"mainlined" poems
I mainlined your love
And became hooked on the spot
You're too powerful a feeling
For just one shot
I fell into being high from every available source
When I ran out of drugs I ransacked the lives of people i'd known before
Kisses became my ******
Touching is now *******
Making love is like making ****
The process all the same
May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 10:48 AM UTC
I’ve O’D’d on Glucosamine Sulphate, so much I’m mentally scarred.
It’s escalated now I’m 70… I’ve mainlined on my Senior Railcard…
I bow down to the Norse God Voltarol… He eases all my pains…
and there’s Deep Heat, Germaloids, even Anusol for the other stresses and strains.
The wondrous Winter Fuel Allowance! That’s what lights our lamp these dark days - ahh, those twilight hours!
But after the logs, it’s not Leccy or Gas we crave? No! We buy ***** with ours…
the Whisky, Gin, ***** Wine, a drop of Brandy too. It all helps us numb the cold
whilst memories of happier times gone by - brighten up this ****** growing old.
Supplements, sterols, statins, aspirin, beta blockers… All the heart meds - life’s a battle.
In the 60s it was *** and Drugs and Rock ’n’ Roll… Now there’s less *** and a lot more rattle!
****** fails to make it now - “no more”, after the last time - she said!
These days the only thing it does is stop me rolling out of bed!
The bus pass lets me roam the world… from John O’Groats to Land’s End.
But these days I travel locally Southwick, Lancing, Steyning; oh yeh and a cousin in far Gravesend.
Further afield; abroad perhaps? Well no…Back then it was Newhaven for the Continent.
But now I’m over 70, well, it’ll just be Worthing for the INCONTINENT!
And… did I say? Not that I was ever in the habit of measuring it you understand - or straightening out the kinks
I’m pretty sure that these days - and ’no’ it’s NOT just the cold… but, your once adequate **** - it shrinks!
I'm sorry...Your ******* It ain't so long!
Dec 28, 2018
Dec 28, 2018 at 4:15 PM UTC
Ivory towers like third appendages flipping of the sky. Profane.
Rivers run cris-cross beetles in the bog.Traffic logjam.
Instant grats. Gratis time bomb ticking.
Age is an obstruction. mindless pursuits of Material security blankets.
Thumb suckers rule. Knuckleheads telling tales out of school. Glass house myopia.
A cornucopia a chorus of jabbernows. Verbal diarrhea on wax. passes for reason.
Sin-taxes pay the way
Syntax gone astray. What the @**# did she just say ?
Novocaine mainlined. Numb all over talking heads on the hill.
Need a few meg-volts to jolt flat-lined hearts to do the people's will.
War is raging, storms are raging. Quiet storms.
Oil. Fuels from long dead fossils. Habit handcuffs.
Cant get enough. Lites out soon.
Powers that be.
Juggernauts...Battlebots... Taking giant steps backwards.
Chaos is local until in your locality.Doomsayer.
The Giant slayer kneels to place his head in the guillotine. Appease the ruthless.
Know it when you feel it. Babylon is falling.
Oct 14, 2013
Oct 14, 2013 at 10:20 AM UTC
Sidereal gaze enriches casual lays beneath the shimmering firmament
Glorified passions is the indignity of benighted scars and brandished armaments
Scour with the owls proctoring over the night for signs that penetrate the tight
That ooze new light and wage an epigamic fight
Temptress like a mainlined ecstasy enlivening a heightened empathy
Our love towers above suburban muses and urban ruses
It showers with meteoric power and consummate flowers that it chooses
The misfortune of star-crossed affections
Is the serendipity of empowering but inclement afflictions
Impenetrably vast like a cavernous space
To make us tremble in insignificance at the petty rats that race
Our lambent passions erupt with paroxysms immune to an unbuttoned snooze
Oneiromancy glistens with prophetic eternities dreamed awake with inordinate *****
Playful jostles and succulent pretended jilts lionize our blessed fates
We reckon with eternity by adducing modernity at its current rate
We disavow transient objections just like gravity impounds its own weight
Jan 4, 2016
Jan 4, 2016 at 7:47 PM UTC
Abscess blockade burrowed
to the jawbone
dream ruptures
infectious screeches
threats of gangrene
mainlined syringe residue
drawn back-blow back-cross bow-shot across the bow
racing thought
restless night shade swollen eyes
mud caked dispossession
broken promise treatment
crack in
the pavement
things fall apart
lies upon lies upon lies
and
she says
'While I'm at it,
I don't really want to talk about it.
Can't I just use you,
to only tell me nice things? '
Jan 16, 2014
Jan 16, 2014 at 9:54 AM UTC
My only regret
Is that my muse can't be mainlined
Or that you projectile ***** words
When you don't sleep 3 days
Or maybe that I don't sweep scraps
From the orange candy's factory floor
Straight into my mouth
If I could I'd never sleep again
I'd call it fixer
And keep it at an hour's call
To trump my teacher's bluff
Stacking aces in the hole
It's the doctor's orders
The doctor said
"An Adderall a day keeps distraction away"
Orange candy keeps the apathy at bay
The doctor called the brain stupid
For not making Adderall a neurotransmitter
And I'll talk about him when they call me a child prodigy for all the work I've done
And the pharm reps make me a posterboy
I'll tell the whole world
how they called me failure to thrive after two years treatment
I'll tell them "look at me now!"
Ruminating on that last perfect fire
Snapped between synapses
Anxiously plunging forward
Look at me
Feb 9, 2014
Feb 9, 2014 at 2:54 PM UTC
What may it be? A critic or mass or both sown together
within a sphere explosives around threatening?
An angry oceans of heavy neutrons imploding, or, tell me,
is it the amount of money for the majority
to nuke the minorities from here to eternity?
Is, critical, for now, (I am densely packed), a moral majority erupting to take all of our freedoms?
Is Uranium or Plutonium being sold ;
by my drug dealer?
I mainlined something. Saw a trillion explosive stars,
or was that just you,
walking into the room?
Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 7:35 PM UTC
kneeled on tile floor
there's no sense
of pride
anymore
the blood won't
stop
cough after
godforsaken cough
no idea where you are
and you come to realize
you don't even know
who
you are anymore
or how you got there
scared out of your mind
unable to move
praying someone
doesn't walk in
--wipe your
******* mouth, son,
you're a ******* disgrace--
look at me
all of this is wrong
but it doesn't stem the blood
try a sip of water
and your stomach
turns inside out
burning up your throat
torn by convulsions
broken down man
broken down and useless
and all you can bear to think
about as you
cough and cough again
wiping all that **** away
is just how badly
you need one more hit
Feb 12, 2013
Feb 12, 2013 at 1:51 AM UTC
When the cold rain enters
it makes me remember
lifetimes of past Decembers
and their nasty embers.
Each drop a designer
momentary reminder
of a recreational resigner's
unchecked timer.
I am not reborn
in the rain's misty scorn
I see Satan's horns
in rain clouds formed.
Sensory recall
makes me fall
into the needle
of a lifestyle fetal
crying for my mommy
of a ****** haunting
my past life is flaunting
through raindrops upon me
their ripples are bombing
my mentality modeling
of the unguarded godly.
Inclement
in descent
in cement
mixed with saline
so I may dream
maiming Maybelline
makes me made to scream
drowning in memory
separating what's ahead of me
with the possible death of me
after a moment of leveling
water brings devil's wings.
I guess I'm like this forever
mainlined or severed
would've been much better
than stuck in the nether
between order and chaos
mortars of raindrops
show where my aim lost
and the insane cost
of the water in the syringe
raining into my veins
so I cry and I cringe
when it rains all the same.
Feb 4, 2021
Feb 4, 2021 at 9:24 PM UTC
She mainlined the drug of love
Till it eventually collapsed her veins
Burning a trail from one love deal to another
Never able to find that feeling again
Walking life's lonely streets
Just waiting for the man
Who will help her to find that burning need
The best way that he can
That's the ally in which she sleeps
When she could not buy love at home
Back then the same as it is of late
She's still out here all alone on her on
She is the worst of her only friends
The only prize she's ever won
Is that of being a ******
All for the drug of love
She craves the pounding in her veins
After years of heartfelt neglect
There's no way to be free of the hunger and need
Of all that she has left
Aug 24, 2014
Aug 24, 2014 at 8:01 AM UTC