"fentanyl" poems
The head fuckery of societies rules.
The indoctrination in our schools
has led to the homeless on our streets while politicians count their seats.
The privileged few, too rich to mention
fail to reveal their true intention.
The NHS setup to break by psychopaths all on the take.
Big business stripped of all its gold,
no pension funds left for the old.
Big pharma, they don't miss a trick,
they're making you & I feel sick.
They push the pills that ring the tills
even though they know it kills.
With the best advice and greatest will
our kids are on **** & fentanyl.
While we're divided black & white,
we'd never stand up to their might
So take your neighbour, hold their hand and together we'll reclaim our land.
Poetry by Kaydee.
Jun 17, 2018
Jun 17, 2018 at 11:36 PM UTC
****** - Nay!
******* - Nay!
Fentanyl - Nay!!!
I'm addicted to a different one.
***** - Nay!
Smack - Nay!!
Tobacco - Nay!!!
I'm addicted to a unique one.
Mescaline - Nay!
Marijuana - Nay!!
*Ketamine - Klose!!!*
I'm addicted to Poetry ever since I was borm.
Jun 27, 2013
Jun 27, 2013 at 1:58 AM UTC
By: Cedric McClester
Smoke a blunt?
Somebody's gonna!
Though it ain’t
The same marijuana
That they smoked
Back in the day
So what’s inside it anyway?
Truthfully, it’s hard to say
It might be laced with
Fentanyl
Until you smoked it
How could you tell?
Ya see, it’s properties
Don’t ring a bell
So their affects
Could be hell
And now they rush
To legalize
For the dollars
I’d surmise
Whether, or not
That move is wise
See those who object
Are ostracized
Yet all the evidence
Isn’t in
And that alone
Speaks to the sin
The wise go slow
But fools rush in
So John Q Public
Takes it on the chin
Cedric McClester, Copyright (c) 2019. All rights reserved.
Feb 6, 2019
Feb 6, 2019 at 5:02 PM UTC
the ritual is like a dance foreshadowed by the first rush;
a smooth and soothing building block
characterizing my indulgence.
the room brightens and colorful shafts of light
surround my television in waves of heat.
Dec 18, 2019
Dec 18, 2019 at 2:38 PM UTC
Need drugs for my composure just can't seem to stay sober
Need closure to stay sober oh what overexposure
Dilated pupils and blood shot eyes the voices are mean she calls out and cries
Bars of white powder, crisp and cut clean
Coated with fentanyl just not for the eye to see
A band-aid with a bow tie or a fix with a twist
I can't count the days sober
Oh what overexposure
(C)
Jun 16, 2018
Jun 16, 2018 at 7:20 AM UTC
Your rocking chair tip slowly back and forth,
Hair messy and wine stained lips with an all to familiar gaze.
Cold, lifeless, drained.
With your speech slurred and muffled ramblings of:
"Can you bring your dad back?"
We did our best to carry you inside and give you the same care and love that only he could provide.
As you stumble aimlessly around the bathroom floor tuning out the please of your children to simply get up,
What is left of my heart is swept away like sand beneath the tides.
Hours pass, torn apart novels, tipped over tables, and a paper bag tossed into the woods containing every pill and packet of Benson and Hedges in sight,
You finally rest.
Your breathing raspy with the occasional mutter of words and sudden cries of agony and sorrow,
I hear you utter his name.
Those seven letters that still send chills down my spine,
The failed excuse of a replacement for the man that I once knew.
I reassured you it was only me in your bed,
Not the monster who pushed you over the edge.
-C h a r l i e
Aug 22, 2017
Aug 22, 2017 at 4:37 PM UTC
degenerate beauty queen
treasure from the dredge of the Earth
strung up like Christmas lights
white crystal **** aflame
hydrangeas cower from her gaze
pink ribbons stained with age
droop lonesome in soft noir locks
pulled loose from men along the way
she'll be lucky if she doesn't die young
photos on the television
gunned down in some gang's maze
or somewhere in the gutters she calls home
expensive death bought by scratch
she'll be lucky to make it to twenty three
cigarettes and xanax soothe her to sleep
dancing on a silver pole took her hazily
high school diploma left her trailer park bound
never felt love 'less it came from a bottle
kissed only by knuckles since she began
running from ambitions to become no one
just someone's baby mama left shattered
she smiles to the world, for anyone who can see
inside she's full of rage, i see the tear stains
mascara runs black from her bambi eyes
complacent at best, naïve at worst
****** never grew up, she just grew angrier
i pray for you and the person you've become
ring me when you find your head
ring me when you find your way home
there's nothing from you that i wanna take
no matter how insignificant or terrifying
i love you forever and always
Oct 3, 2021
Oct 3, 2021 at 3:22 AM UTC
A smile is knowing
The dark crease of a well-arched spine
The dewy white lotus petals
The sad title of concubine
The blue glass so plainly beautiful
With its cold smooth sides
A blown vase that sits precious
Atop a dead deer's stretched hide
The hallowed slope of a portruding illiac
And the decadent crust of a sweet fruit pie
On a black vinyl stage floor
In a room filled with echoing cries
The reverberance loud and hollow
With ears ringing opened wide
The bends of her young tendons
In her ropey pale limbs
They flex and harshly twitch
How a scared and hooked fish swims
The cyclic orbits of planets and lifetimes
A ballerina's pirouette spins
Now the tarlatan and muslin gets torn to shreds
And the blinding stage lights quickly dim
The wet heat of a hungry tongue
Slaps upon her sweating skin
The audience simply does nothing
Just like the tall plant stalks of the green motel
Or the muddy vines in swamps in Rwanda
Or white wallpaper in the locked rooms of certain hells
The diseases that squirm in tainted waters
Of Liberia's ***** wells
The missing limbs of wartime amputees
Reflected in the golden glint of spent brass shells
Amidst the screams of
NO
STOP
NO
It yells the words
GO
GOD
GO
Through the grinning lips of the manifest destiny
And the arms of Khmer Rouge's killings
Its legs are formed from the many faces of lynch mobs
Its hands are hewn of American prison facilities and county jails
It's dripping deadly doses of fentanyl in local ****** shipments
And ****** dancers
Jul 29, 2017
Jul 29, 2017 at 8:20 PM UTC
i like to write about the way a bag of fentanyl with a big letter "H" on the front tastes like
i like to write about coming home to my wife crying on the steps as the paramedics drag my best friend's body out of my house
i like remembering the way my heart sounded just like 15 cops pounding on my front door
i can't tell if i'm swallowing back bile or guilt anymore
i can't tell if burning all the needles in my drawer was a sign that i'm moving on or denial of what I've done
i hate thinking about my friend with blue lips
last time i saw him he was snorting back three hundred dollars without blinking
he says he doesn't really get out of bed anymore
I know exactly what he means
Jul 13, 2016
Jul 13, 2016 at 3:31 PM UTC
will you promise to
take the pain away
i need a solid yes
i heard you are more
than capable
but....
i hear you are dangerous
an acquired high
an ultimately ferocious ride
i just want to feel the numbness
the euphoria
the bliss
for this feeling
i am more than willing
to gamble
with my life
life always takes a gamble
on me
two can play this game
call me vivica
Jul 23, 2019
Jul 23, 2019 at 1:06 AM UTC
It takes the obvious things like happiness a career,the trust they had in you and the hopes you had for yourself .
Then the girl and in time several girls all of whom tried to live with your madness.
Then you crash the car, lose the house and end up hiding from the world in cheap multi unit apartment building.
And you never answer the door or the telephone unless it's your guy calling to bring you more.
Less light and more fire.
Everything looks less depressing by candle light.
The AC broke down a year ago.
Open windows keep the air free from anxiety.
Your loved ones become bitter at the thought of you while your friends , the real ones now act as if those memories you shared and those fights you fought were all just in passing.
The friendship is no longer there.
Sunshine and social settings are two things
you do all you can to avoid.
Cops know you by your name and street people now call you 'Brother' even though you have a home.
Somewhere in those years your *** life had died and no one ever bothered inviting you to the funeral.
You know it's the Devil when it causes you to forget about having something you spent years lusting over and partaking in at every given chance with just about any given girl .
The poppy I speak of only with respect.
The Dragon and the chasing has almost ran its course.
The lazy Monkey and my aching spine.
The Fentanyl and the Suboxone.
The crying jail cell walls and the ***** on the floor.
The scars and the death of another .
The years all wasted and the girl who no longer thinks of you .
It took all I had I have nothing left to give.
Sep 2, 2017
Sep 2, 2017 at 7:37 PM UTC
"7 to 9 hours of sleep"
You got me thinking in dreams
I'm still working on my mental health journey
I don't know where I'm going but there's a mountain range or an ocean in view
My life is vertical with vertigo and
I need a horizon
It makes me feel small
I like to make myself small and my problems smaller with me
But truth is my problems are too big for my body
They come bursting out in the form of suicidal ramblings or makeshift insomnia
To match my makeshift happiness
Fake it till you make it
I tell my brain to make and bake more dopamine or serotonin
Help me out
I'll take it artificially manufactured
It's the fentanyl of happiness
But there's something about the artificial flavors that is raw and real to myself
The fundip powder stuck to my fingers
I crave childhood and I don't know if it was taken from me
My sweet tooth remains
And I continue to crave
Mar 25, 2019
Mar 25, 2019 at 11:53 AM UTC
Hey, it’s been a while, nice to see yuh,
I didn’t think that due time I’d have to greet yuh,
It’s been three years, 2 months, and a day,
Now I’m feeling speechless and I don’t know what to say,
You came around the corner so ******* fast,
An immediate blow to the head and blast to the ***
I wish you didn’t have the ***** to come back around,
I’d lost you for a while, but now you’ve been found,
Found under the influence, influenced underground,
Away from the police, so I pop at least a pound,
Of fentanyl, morphine, ****** and coke,
I mean, “Please don’t come for me, this is all a joke”,
If they ask if I want some, I always say nope,
Deadliest drug I ever did was dope,
I didn’t even use the **** **** to cope,
I hated the feeling and hated the smoke,
I used the stuff to sit a socialize,
And I despised my girl smoking with other guys,
I am selfish and constantly jealous,
She would be confused, sit me down and say “Tell us...”,
“Tell us why it pains you to see me this way”,
I said, “Girl, it’s destroying your lungs every day”,
So I stopped using and she kept going,
With guys and girls with or without knowing,
If she is safe and indoors or scared and outside,
Either way I’m worrying with fears like the tide,
Not as intense during day, but insane during night,
I was manipulative and stupid one day,
I asked her choose between smoking and me,
She made me cry and chose the ****
So now I’m stuck up high in a tree,
Contemplating suicide and for some reason you’re here,
Meeting me again and telling all my fears,
That I’m a ***** and I dont deserve,
This life and it’s glory, man, you have the nerve,
That I had to ask the stupid question,
That ended it all and let’s not even mention,
That she was attracted to every other guy,
And said it was normal and constantly lied,
Depression is back, that is your name, right?,
Been a while old friend, I don’t think I’ll fight,
I’ll let you take over once again,
I think you and I could be pretty good friends.
Jun 21, 2019
Jun 21, 2019 at 11:20 PM UTC
It's not
the fascists with their guns.
Or the Democrats with their bumper stickers.
Or the boomers with their Facebook.
Or the leftists with their Twitter.
Or the toddlers with their iPads.
It's not
the billionaires with their minimum wage.
Or the landlords with their land.
Or the hospitals with their bills.
It's not
the ocean with its plastic.
Or the forest with its fires;
no....
The worst part of living in this boring
post-modern nightmare dystopia
is that even the god **** drugs
are poisoned now.
Dec 2, 2021
Dec 2, 2021 at 6:25 AM UTC
I've seen them come
I've seen them go
I've seen the needle
Take another soul
I've seen the vacuum
I've seen the hole
I've seen things
I'd rather not know
I've seen them beg
I've seen them cry
I've seen them lose
I've seen them die
I've seen broken mothers
Wonder why
I've seen it all
Through tear-filled eyes
I've seen the needle
I've seen the cost
I've seen it all
Through thickened walls
I've seen men when
They take the fall
Get up again
Then do more
I've seen them do
Without a doubt
I've seen them cut
Their clientele
Treat them worse
Then they would a dog
Send them to hell
With Fentanyl
I've seen them come
I've seen them go
I've seen them beg
For another dose
And when there's nothing
Left to own
I've seen them die
All alone
Nov 10, 2018
Nov 10, 2018 at 10:03 AM UTC
By: Cedric McClester
If not for the pills
Doctors once prescribed
The musician Prince
Might still be alive
Along with others who
Sought similar relief
Because their stories too
Ended in grief
If not for the greed
On Big Pharma’s part
The opioid epidemic
Right from the start
Might not have grown
To epic proportions
Because of ignorance
And outright distortions
If not for the relaxed
Government regulations
We might not now
Be at our battle stations
Trying to reverse
What’s sweeping our nation
Because opioids doesn’t
Go on vacation
If not for the prevalence
Of the fentanyl drug
And its purveyors
Who are typically smug
Then we might not have
Gotten mugged
In the way that we have
By this deadly drug
Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2019. All rights reserved.
Nov 18, 2019
Nov 18, 2019 at 8:25 AM UTC
staying sober is so ******* hard
and i can't ever seem to get clean.
i can go for a week tops and then it's a huge ****** i wish it were easy, i wish i wanted to be clean...but honestly it feels so ******* good and i have zero regards for anyone i hurt in the process. i dont know how to conquer this disease. it's killed me once and it almost killed me a second time and i only used more after. what do i do? rehab ****** 12 steps **** my sponsor ****** **** i wont last forever if i keep using, because i fell in love with fentanyl.
Jan 27, 2021
Jan 27, 2021 at 11:14 AM UTC
The deceased, at the time of his death
Contained fentanyl traces, and ****
Yes, his death was unjust.
Raise a fist, if you must...
for St. George has now breathed his last breath.
Jun 11, 2020
Jun 11, 2020 at 6:30 PM UTC
No fentanyl, midazolam or propofol.
Operation: childhood destruction using
non- sterile gloves.
Removal of parts of the brain and heart,
septic nightmares infect the mind.
The body shivers, loses control.
Gangrene of the soul.
Antiseptic, aromatic soap,
scraping the epidermal dirt.
Scratching so hard, unable
to get rid of the hurt.
Happiness decapitated,
enters the cemetery gates
pointing with her morphine-coated fingers
to her tomb.
Chronic torture and no remorse.
A pre-meditated ****** of dreams and hopes.
Jul 1, 2018
Jul 1, 2018 at 2:54 AM UTC
Cedric McClester
Smoke a blunt?
Somebody's gonna!
Though it ain’t
The same marijuana
That they smoked
Back in the day
So what’s inside of it anyway?
Truthfully, it’s hard to say
It might be laced with
Fentanyl
Until you smoked it
How could you tell?
Ya see, it’s properties
Don’t ring a bell
So their affects
Could be hell
And now they rush
To legalize
For the dollars
I’d surmise
Whether, or not
That move is wise
See those who object
Are criticized
Yet all the evidence
Isn’t in
And that alone
Speaks to the sin
The wise won’t go
But fools rush in
So John Q Public
Takes it on the chin
Cedric McClester, Copyright (c) 2019. All rights reserved.
Jun 30, 2019
Jun 30, 2019 at 6:36 AM UTC
Lawrence Hall, HSG
[email protected]
Never Mind the Guns and the Fentanyl; Seize the Books
By 1938, the Nazis had banned eighteen categories of books,
4,175 titles, and the complete works of 565 authors…
-Molly Guptill Manning, When Books Went to War
Ideologues search libraries for ***** books
Because reading might give people ideas
And encourage them to think for themselves
Tyrants are threatened by words and ideas
Censors search Mary Poppins for ***** words
Because a wide vocabulary might give people ideas
And encourage them to think for themselves
Tyrants are threatened by words and ideas
In an era when even mere literacy is suspicious
Tyrants are threatened by words and ideas
How conservative and liberal book bans differ amid rise in literary restrictions - ABC News (go.com)
The Spread of Book Banning - The New York Times (nytimes.com)
Film censors aren’t protecting children from Mary Poppins – they’re protecting themselves (yahoo.com)
States Tell SCOTUS That Social Media Censors Conservatives : The NPR Politics Podcast : NPR
List of banned films - Wikipedia
https://www.forbes.com/sites/maryroeloffs/2023/12/22/police-officer-searches-middle-school-library-after-complaint-about-concerning-illustrations-in-lgbtq-book/
Someone is cutting down free little libraries in a Chicago suburb and police are searching for the suspect (msn.com)
Over 170 books banned from Florida school libraries following new education reform - CBS News
The police officer who searched for a book in a Great Barrington classroom also used a body camera. The ACLU has ‘deep concerns’ | South Berkshires | berkshireeagle.com
Feb 27, 2024
Feb 27, 2024 at 9:23 PM UTC
They stop me in funerals, in reunions and
say to me, “You did it. You broke the cycle”
My fingers twitch, a deep pit in my belly
A knife twists, the memory of her last words
With fentanyl-stained lips twisted into a smile
she kisses me one last time, a sharing of poison
As her breath leaves, a body with no brain
And I say, “But did she have to die?”
May 17, 2025
May 17, 2025 at 10:53 PM UTC