"intravenously" poems
Cold Diet Coke
Administered intravenously
Injected into my veins
And fueling my anxiety.
First, it was only a few
Drops to keep me ready,
But now it's full gallons
And even that's not quenching.
People always ask me,
"Why push milligrams and ounces
Of cold Diet Coke?
It'll make you choke.
After time, you'll croak.
You're such a stupid bloke,
Pushing Diet Coke."
To this I have to say that you
Are quite mistaken, sir.
I only do it because I am
Addicted to the tiny bubbles
In my fizzy bloodstream.
I know it's very dangerous,
But I haven't died quite yet.
I might just try some other kind
To fix my upset stomach.
"Zero calorie soda,
Amazing as it is,
Though it tastes delicious to you,
Isn't healthy food.
It's gonna cause an issue.
You're still depressed and blue.
Your face is green in hue."
Again I must say you lie
To steal my fleeting happiness.
I need the drip, drip, dropping through
My swiftly closing arteries.
I don't have much time left,
And I'm at Death's bright doorstep.
I'm taking my final breaths,
And I'm on my deathbed.
I just want to tell you
You made me do this.
It's your fault.
You're to blame.
Yours is the shame.
You outlive yet another son.
You could've saved this one.
My chances are slim to none.
I approach the glistening sun
As the fungus and rot outrun
The weight of death o'er a ton.
May 10, 2021
May 10, 2021 at 3:14 PM UTC
Drink up the radiation
Subhuman viral nation
That or starve in skeleton cars
Chewin' on lettuce and candy bars
It's a caper world but there's no dancing
Skippin' like a child? Prepare for the violins
An interlude of electric tubes
Pushin' you closer to the cube
Tinted windows beg for bullets
And she makes *** feel like school
I've climbed the mountains, crawled in the caves
Still can't tell the veins from the beige
Still don't know if I'm better off in Nod's nowhere
Or Pan's wonderland of the living dead
Don't talk much except to my shaky fingers
Nibble nimble, spin a spindle, see the symbols, give a little
I've got a man who lives under my tongue
He fixes all my cavities
And when the paycheck comes
He sits atop the pink carpet-
His anti-gravity
I had a dream-weaver
But now he's vacationing
Somewhere in Himalayan Mountain territory
He's been there for two moons
And I doubt he'll ever leave
He sends me postcards and fancy little things
I put em' in a cigar box, hoping one day I'll see wings
****** was eaten by maggots
Before he took the helm
Insanity breeds anti-gravity
Life breeds cruel leaders
Forget divide and conquer
It's swarm and swallow
Tools of the revolution
Intravenously protrude you
Same In Nazarene
Spit In the Name of me
Go limping with a tishbite in the Cherith
Stating the obvious facts of Sin
Livin' only for lunar limbs
And Bailey's beads
Screaming,
"My God!
It's full of stars!"
Nov 25, 2011
Nov 25, 2011 at 9:37 PM UTC
You're my drug fueled fantasy
And all i want is you to dance with me
I'm never coming down
Rather overdose than have a peak
Will you intravenously love me for the right price?
I need your high tonight.
And i just might do anything to feel your bite
Jul 7, 2015
Jul 7, 2015 at 12:16 PM UTC
They pull the strings behind the scenes, they think themselves queens and kings controlling everything.
And we're the poor pawns that fawn on and on and on, day to day, from dusk til dawn.
We need to stop the cycle. No, we HAVE to stop this cycle. Get off the bike, though, we might not like to, Because we're prisoners and though we're lacking actual shackles, our rights are *** backwards, and the rulers are money-hungry psychos.
We the people pay the price,
The price for living paid in pain and constant suffering,
Nothing's really what it Seems,
And no one Sees because We numb ourselves through drugs and Vicodins,
Pill-poppers, downers, uppers,
Blunt-puffers, paint huffers,
Wrist cutters, coke snuffers,
Methamphetamine intravenously-injecting stupid *************
Drug smugglers, crack stuffers,
Mother struggles, baby suffers,
Speed lovers, glass crushers,
We numb it all so no one bothers.
but sitting comfy at the summit,
Watching the planet plummet,
Are the ones pulling the strings behind the show.
The ones without a soul.
The ones behind it all, yet few of us do know.
It's time we all wake up, stop confirming to the rules, it's time we cut these strings and put the people in control.
Dec 19, 2012
Dec 19, 2012 at 8:05 PM UTC
sleepless under that blanket of monsters,
trembling in the heat.
the medications you're taking are helping her sleep,
when the night comes and your heart-shaped hit
flows through space time
to pursed lips behind which jagged ivories grind.
01101100011011110111011001100101
flowing freely across
a woven circuit board of smiles and wires.
words surfing along radio waves,
slow and gentle, strong and deep
a lullaby to which finally sleep
can take a hold across stiff shoulders.
relaxing the pace at which she runs through the slew of
gunfire and ****** and fear;
intravenously
pumping clouds
across
her closed eyes
fields of vision turning from broken glass to meadows,
thoughts from lost kittens to the same warm blankets
under which she curls.
hum a lullaby, so she'll sing a lullaby, the buzz of noise
in her mind so clear yet so far away;
dancing on clouds to keep you smiling.
dancing with this glow
illuminating everything she touches,
let light lead this lovely lullaby tonight.
sweet sugar rains send sticky waves
from the clouds,
now everything is sweet
and the songs on the radio waves
send waves of peace flowing through aching bones.
slow and gentle, strong and deep.
a lullaby to which finally sleep
can take a hold across stiff shoulders
Jan 22, 2011
Jan 22, 2011 at 7:40 PM UTC
He's nervous to meet me, he must be.
It's been twenty-one years.
Twenty-one years absent from the beat of my heart where his blood runs through-
I let him enter intravenously,
Because God told me to.
May 28, 2013
May 28, 2013 at 11:18 PM UTC
Coming down from my volcanic wave
Sheet music jukebox requiem
Rides down the road
Feverish dreams outlast psychedelic trees
In the owls and squirrels of light
Picking at the vultures of dawn
Violent winds of the subatomic youth
Puncture through the face of Mona Lisa
Take me to the South
Pulsating rocket ship boom
Left scabs on my eyelids
Shifting in the dark to get to the light
Killing mr. Grawkus through crucified madness
Suffer at the hands of large Industry men
Give your money in exchange for life
Dream queen pre-madonna smoothie mix
Shove down the stones from your funneral pyre
Throw off your ***** neon soaked clothes
Dowse yourself in the electronic fumes
Pulsed beat hammers in the tunnels of consciousness
Through the catacombs of breath
Inhale deeply the sonic sun light
Exhale zombie dust glass shards
Dare to call me electric
Throw down this scepter of deceit
Release yourself from the robes of conceit
Never let the sun mock your wiring breath
Lightning whiskers pierce the skull
Left her tied to the tracks
Electronic pumps intravenously
Junk sets into the brain
Sell your soul for an electro fix
Satellites fit themselves into my subconscious
Fried blank and numb, gone mad with electricity
Show off your bruised face to the sunshine
Plastered, baked, and cratered with disgust
Do you see how the light bulb strikes on?
Where are you with your ravaged home?
Peeled back with mechanical angst
She cries aloud to the moon
Mar 2, 2011
Mar 2, 2011 at 3:51 PM UTC
Ebony and Ivory
Living Separate but Equal
Without harmony.
Side by side.
To die.
Military.
Not in life.
Not in jobs or money.
Oh, Lord...why don't we?
We live to earn.
We earn to live.
They must learn to live...
On what we give.
Poor and deprived.
Barely survive.
We all know people are different...
Wherever we go.
We are good.
They are bad.
Unlike us.
We will drive.
You will go to the...
Back of the bus.
Ebony and poverty...
With out human dignity.
Ivory and opportunity's...
The Seven Seas and shopping sprees...
Together in perfect harmony.
Ebony and poverty...
Diabetes and Heart Disease.
Ivory and opportunity's...
Ivy League...
College degrees.
Together in perfect harmony.
Ebony and poverty...
Drugs shot up....intravenously.
Ivory and opportunity's...
Ph,D's and VIP's.
Together in perfect harmony.
Ebony and poverty...
****** in the first degree.
Ivory and opportunity's...
A red convertible...
Mercedes.
Together in perfect harmony.
May 3, 2018
May 3, 2018 at 8:26 AM UTC
I wish inspiration could be injected
intravenously, without delay. That
I could wrap a rubber band around
my arm and pull it tight with my
teeth. Then give myself several swi-
ft slaps with my middle and index
fingers to the inside crook of my arm
to pop the vein. Then without look-
ing, (because I am afraid of needles)
slowly insert the thin metal spear in
my skin and puncture the vein. Draw
back a bit of blood and watch it mix
with my concoction. Then voila: ins-
tant inspiration.
If only I could buy words by the bot-
tle, so I could guzzle them down by
the quart. And they could mix and
swirl, swash and stir, with all my
other ****** fluids. They could seep
into my veins, via my stomach lining,
and warm my body with a toxic glow.
The words would blur my vision, mu-
ddy my senses, and stumble my step.
Then, after I consume more words th-
an I can handle, I would projectile vo-
mit and spew the words all over the
page. Then the next morning I could
rearrange the words into something
remotely coherent.
But there is no such luck.
Instead I have to go toe-to-toe with
each word, each syllable, with the
utmost precision and vigilance.
And let me tell you, these word “St-
ing like a butterfly and float like a
bee”. I give a left jab, a right hook,
a shot to the kidneys, but it does
no good. Most of the time I am on
my heels; forced to be on the defense
But of course I take a hit, or twenty-
two. Until I am punch drunk,
and everything is brilliant to me.
Feb 24, 2013
Feb 24, 2013 at 12:54 PM UTC
*You know it's just Mischief,
whispering his own feather
tipped voice through your lips,
setting you inside a bushel of roses
testing your thought process
and waiting for you to get pricked?
You know that right- Hey, kid!
Hop down from that fence
We can't have you acting like this
Don't you know want to know the feeling of home?*
**Yes, I'll go.
I'll know.**
Maybe soon but not now.
In my imagination of perpetual rhythm,
They administer poems intravenously
We are a part of our own systems, shouting
I've no need for your Thorazine!
In my imagination of perpetual rhythm
She needs three ccs of words unfinished
And yet hopeful remedies, more like prisons,
Leave my hands from the rebellion
With no choice but to idle.
Nov 18, 2011
Nov 18, 2011 at 12:04 PM UTC
One nation under god
Father grasps the shoulder of the son
Who listens to American music
They're growing beets in the garden
One nation under water
Trance grabs the shoulders of the sun
Who glistens over drunk, dazed revelers
They're growing cancer in the eye
Drink a beer, wear a silk batik
Drive a truck, and keep your mystique
They're just tools to use
In the long walk of
Finding the real thing
And if you do, be sure to
Inject it intravenously
(Just kidding)
Nov 25, 2011
Nov 25, 2011 at 7:16 PM UTC
Tremendous afflictions await the unexpected.
As if ignorance was Olympic worthy.
Tears fall.
A sea of desperate pleas.
Evaporate.
Slowly exstinguishing the sun.
Deaths melody is on the wind.
A wake that consumes.
Dragging a deranged animal to the surface.
Clawing through flesh and steel alike.
For there is little difference.
Cast off.
The fear sets in.
Panic injected intravenously.
Rushing and beating with every tide.
A whirling.
Integrating.
Manifestation of self.
Lost.
And beyond.
Pitch..
Black.
Jun 4, 2016
Jun 4, 2016 at 9:31 AM UTC
Give me love intravenously,
Love is my drug,
Injected by fairies,
Helping cupid on his rounds,
Me thinks his arrows went astray,
Somehow!
Punctured my heart,
She lies bleeding,
In muddles puddle,
Fractured dreams,
Encased in rose-hips hard,
Wrapped in shell of silver,
Tinged in green,
Rosebuds open,
Love blooms again,
Magnificent technicolour,
Dreams stated,
In this land,
Bereft, berated,
Jesus wept,
This thing called love is over-rated,
Really isn't all that great !
By ladylivvi1
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Aug 26, 2013
Aug 26, 2013 at 5:31 AM UTC
An open mind is an open vein.
Insane thoughts convey into Cain intravenously then pour out vicariously through Ables brain like a river created from fruitful rain.
I don't want to be like Cain or end up like Able, to live disabled and brittle or serve a god and live as a biblical *******
Realism on a canvas of skin and bone painted by a hand led by sin and the unknown, a brothers keeper estranged with the blood of his own
kept in a state of strife and decay with only dead crops and his thoughts, hes cursed with the lasting of life.
Jan 4, 2016
Jan 4, 2016 at 3:16 PM UTC
I heard
that the darkness
finally blinded you
With the
temptation
of permanent
bliss
You kept running
through that garden
looking to get
your fix
So wickedly
seduced into
rebirth
Do you finally
see just like
a child?
Without eyes
you let
the truth
weigh in
intravenously
and burn
your garden
down
Jul 18, 2016
Jul 18, 2016 at 5:20 PM UTC
In the name of blood, for it is the source of life itself,
Plasma's crimson essence of liquid infusion, to the undead's
Pulsating heart.
Intravenously feeding cravings passion, through the carotid
Artery at the throat of humanity, thou'st not love, suffer
The pleasure indulge the pain, the out come shall be the same,
To be embraced by the black ebony arch angel of death,
Release thy darker side, let the instinctual behavior of the beast,
Know freedoms unshackling at last.
Become one of his sacred disciples, a creature of his dark dimension,
A kindred being, unto the legion of the night.
In the moon's elliptical light, shadows thus move from
Left to right, shifting as transparent figures, phantoms of
Illusions, taking winged flight, soaring on the currents
Of air mingling with their ancestral brethren, the vampire bat.
Run does not the lone wolf, along the side path next to man,
As we do so walk amongst them, yet never attempting to belong.
Oh are we not the a shunned, the accursed, by a God known
For his forgiveness, to love all living things under
Heaven, but for us this mightiest of lords, turns
His gaze away, not acknowledging our existence.
Our we not his lost sheep, missing from his flock, why
Does not this Sheppard seek this black lamb’s wool,
Is it too coarse for weaving's wheel, as it spins thus
And is it not said that he created all life within his image.
Nay I pray this vamperic prayer, why has he abandon
Us, the darker of his creations.
Behold the unascended, begging to enter beyond the gates
Of light, children of the lost are we, seeking a father blind
To his responsibility.
Harvesting, by the basic instincts given unto us,
Taking only what we need to survive, for this he has turned
Against us, and thus taking the light of day with him.
So my father of damnation's hell, has offered salvation's
Darker domain as a sheltering harbor of comfort, I will not
Abstain his patronage.
For I am the ashunned, living by the moonlight's haunting glow,
Yet yearning to see one last horizons sunset, but the Holy Father,
Hears not my humble vamperic prayer.
May 20, 2015
May 20, 2015 at 11:13 AM UTC
Protecting the carcinogen
God bless this anomaly
Who they choose to protect
Intravenously a sight to see
Saving this misstep
Blight of justice, repetition
Six million people left to vet
Each one with tunnel vision
That's the view
Who
Is right
Wrong
Death and disorder
Tagging
The walls
Of the holy manor
Then **** them all
Inside and out
Violent, volition
No one truly knows self doubt
Ventricle technicians
Each coat of paint
Is closing the space between the walls
Halls closing in
How much longer before you fall?
---------------------
Oh god, I'm still alive
Please, someone **** me
I shouldn't have to go through this
---------------------
It's funny, ain't it
Fancy feast for the whole congregation
My words aren't an open book
A buffet for crooks run amok
On ground up horse hooves
Frowning down I pout
I'd **** my ******* self to put their fire out
A brisk shower of intuition
Intention of slowing mass emissions
Eating ***** in
Filtration organs
Go vegan
Aug 14, 2017
Aug 14, 2017 at 1:19 AM UTC
course and stubbly moustache whiskers brush against my forehead
sending uncontrollable shivers of discontent
through my narcotic addled body
beginning to rouse from my ****** induced slumber
I catch out of my periphery the chubby cheeks
and balding dome of the man who pays to **** my **** –
days to weeks to months…
18 long, despair filled terror
never a moments rest
or a minute of peaceful sleep
despite half a gram a day black tar
intravenously gifted to a bleak and melancholy
man-whore –
blue eyes following my every movement
ready to pounce like a rascally kitten
except this is not cute
and boarders on ****
as a sleeping / drug induced coma victim
is really unable to say yes –
the mirror holds no lie
and I see the truth each day as I wash my face
no amount of soap
can ever clean away the filth…
guilt and addiction
what a terrible combination for this poor ole chappy –
Aug 17, 2015
Aug 17, 2015 at 5:19 PM UTC
I was given bad cards to deal with
so don't ask why im a misfit?
suckas on the biscuit quick to scheme
Triple beam
floatin' in the mainstream enemies on the same team
as you me and we
can't do nothin' about it gotdamn Uncle Sam
takin' everythang from food water to pestilences
im straddlin' the fence
barely can get over these challenges big as boulder
death peepin' over my shoulder been told ya
times is runnin' before we awakin' the red dragon
stabbin' deep in ya intellect bleed through knowledge
as i hit ya intravenously it ain't no mystery
thangs aint where they suppose to be puffin' greenery
to eas my mind and soul losin' control
cuz media allegories got us in fold celebrities sold
out there lives for gold made of sand
and silvers made of clay can't find no brighter days
cuz darkness lurkin' everywhere i stare
deep into the heaven
askin' why we all gotta die? seems easier to sin then
live righteous i might just adjust my mind
but i can't
feedin' bird off crumbs government scums o how come?
none of us start a gun bust rivals always get the best of us
while we steadily fightin' over petty aggression
i think to myself while we blastin' at each other
theyre signing' the cession big recession really a mild depression
so when we gone get together and change the scene
they takin' everything but too many love floatin' in the mainstream
thats why!!!!
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 9:33 AM UTC
you make me laugh
and I smile at your words
my heart is lifted
and my soul is fed
your words flow
intravenously
into my blood
like I need you to survive
to keep me alive
pictures painted
with consonants and vowels
a string of words
that bind my wrists
my heart
and I am there with you
for every step you take
my feet
my heart
will follow you
where ever you lead
you make me cry
tears of anger and loss
tears shed at your plight
I hoped and prayed
that this time
when I read your story again
that this time
maybe you wouldn't die.
Mar 30, 2016
Mar 30, 2016 at 3:04 AM UTC
Find me
inhaling the smoke of summer dreams
blown in from somewhere far afield
breathe deep
exhale
deliberately
observing the mountains of ash
dust on the periphery
recently undisturbed
from the beasts ever lessening visits
once, they were ravenous
a force unbound
now bound by force
consummately conquered
intravenously consumed
tamed
with cold inattention
Find me
immovable, unmoving
as artificial flowers in spring
copy of a copy of a copy of
a
delusion of heart
where wistful winds
erase the path once tread
breathe deep
exhume
inexorably
the ghost of slanted seasons
here, in the autumn of all things
where the dead come to rest
you'll find me
still
and still
Mar 22, 2020
Mar 22, 2020 at 5:29 PM UTC
Didn't want to make a splash
In those days when we were
Strapped for cash
And we lay indolently
Took things intravenously
Don't want to make a splash
As I skip stones on your lake
But If I leave a wake
Then baby ride the waves I make
Apr 28, 2014
Apr 28, 2014 at 12:45 PM UTC
The anxiety is cutting me deep
Yet intravenously they can put me to sleep
The idea of a needle in my hands makes me ill
Nothing seems to help anymore, no prescription nor pill
My body aches, longs for numbness, for real rest and ease
My mind is constantly racing and leaping, worsened by this disease
The affliction, a full circle, bringing me back to square one
Could I take back all I've started, undo who I've become?
Is this really making stronger for I've never felt so weak?
God please see me, because I know, blessed are meek.
May 17, 2016
May 17, 2016 at 3:38 AM UTC
My camera, filled with flowers too shiny and cold to grasp, the feel of a baseball bat, sitting on canvas alongside your brothers and friends. You ask too much of me I said, you ask too much to be watered and bathed and fed to me intravenously. The more pictures I take the sadder I get, one more little flash and I think I might spit. I leave you alone in your white box, I hop on the road of a thousand ripped papers, I thought it was enough to forget the bad taste, I thought it was enough to just leave with much haste. But no. It's not I don't care anymore. I'd rather be there than sitting alone, with a camera on a chair. I'd rather eat yards of purple raw flesh and squeeze pulp from a lung through fine mesh, than sit one more time here with that tone and play with a button tied to a phone. Driving alongside the repeating roadside thought I might see you, and sitting there I thought why not see you. I never thought it was glutton I really was eager, to see, and feel, and want to be either, at home or in love, or one in between. But that doesn't matter- it's not great there. I went alone, with a truck full of ether and a patch on my arm where on my skin was a lever, to crawl, to open and see her at once, i collapsed and saw nothing it was a dead end. I'd still do it again, and I don't know why. But I can't stop. It's deep in my thigh, The needle of water you pumped in my vein, to erase all my thoughts of ever escaping my brain. Now I'm alone, and I really won't need you. But seeing as I do, I might as well feed you. Being sick, that makes you disgusting, feeling no anger makes you worth trusting, I hope. I don't. Ever See. your stupid flower. again.
Jul 25, 2015
Jul 25, 2015 at 11:34 AM UTC
i touch you, running my fingers through your hair
and see god behind my eyelids
the fragile shadow of your lashes onto your cheek
more beautiful than the moon
how many alternate realities
we had to sidestep to get to each other
the magnificence in the stars aligning
cosmic accident springing from a primordial goop
you reached for my hand like a sunday morning
and held it like a saturday night
next thing i know
i’m having thoughts of taking in your laughter intravenously
gazing at you like you were the pacific
and i was desperate to drown
nothing to give
but my furiously delicate heart
your eyes remind me of tinted windows
you could see out, but i could never see in
you imagine the way i haven’t changed
the same as i imagine the ways you have
is it harder to explain what it was like
to have known you or to have known your absence?
but i found my home in the place
where my neck met your shoulder
of those three words you said to me
which one do you think of the most?
the memory fades,
i’m left hanging on to the ghost of your words
you made each skeleton in your closet feel special
before they were thrown back in your ***** clothes pile,
the used and forgotten,
i am only one of them
i saw it coming but at the same time i didn’t
because i didn’t believe you could possibly be that ******* cruel
a difficult truth to conceptualise
but i guess some people are only capable of loving the idea of you
it hurt, loving you, but angelica still feels the pain was worth it
every time your hand touched hers, she was reborn
she may be left for dead in your mistakes
but she cannot bear to say she ever regrets you
Apr 27, 2018
Apr 27, 2018 at 12:58 AM UTC