"pharmaceutical" poems
Sleepmonger,
deathmonger,
with capsules in my palms each night,
eight at a time from sweet pharmaceutical bottles
I make arrangements for a pint-sized journey.
I'm the queen of this condition.
I'm an expert on making the trip
and now they say I'm an addict.
Now they ask why.
WHY!
Don't they know that I promised to die!
I'm keeping in practice.
I'm merely staying in shape.
The pills are a mother, but better,
every color and as good as sour *****
I'm on a diet from death.
Yes, I admit
it has gotten to be a bit of a habit-
blows eight at a time, socked in the eye,
hauled away by the pink, the orange,
the green and the white goodnights.
I'm becoming something of a chemical
mixture.
that's it!
My supply
of tablets
has got to last for years and years.
I like them more than I like me.
It's a kind of marriage.
It's a kind of war where I plant bombs inside
of myself.
Yes
I try
to **** myself in small amounts,
an innocuous occupatin.
Actually I'm hung up on it.
But remember I don't make too much noise.
And frankly no one has to lug me out
and I don't stand there in my winding sheet.
I'm a little buttercup in my yellow nightie
eating my eight loaves in a row
and in a certain order as in
the laying on of hands
or the black sacrament.
It's a ceremony
but like any other sport
it's full of rules.
It's like a musical tennis match where
my mouth keeps catching the ball.
Then I lie on; my altar
elevated by the eight chemical kisses.
What a lay me down this is
with two pink, two orange,
two green, two white goodnights.
Fee-fi-fo-fum-
Now I'm borrowed.
Now I'm numb.
12.3k
Lithe, pharmaceutical muscles regulating microfiber hairs
Draw from the primitive neglect and sin
A clarinet changes the chemistry of champagne
Inside Humanity again
A stock infection of planets and galaxies
and their debris
Small enough to be e coli
and atomic dreams
Beading with the warmth of breath, persisting,
Naming dragons and archers in the infinity,
The cocktails brew people at the seams
Their sentences clapping the breeze
Into a day, or a season,
or her hand leading
Sep 5, 2018
Sep 5, 2018 at 9:50 AM UTC
multimedia macramé
sloshing propaganda sewage
on the unsuspecting public
***** lice infest ****** hill folk
west Virginia outbreak threatening the world
as we know it
flesh altering nonsense explicitly graphed
charting movement of microbes
on air, land, and/ or sea
global currents the new deliverer of death –
infected immigrants sit smiling
internment camps providing nutrition
never before experienced
as non-natives negotiate freedom
by submitting to vaccinations baths
and the standard delousing powder –
paranoid hand-sanitizer users
glued to the **** tube
spray their shoes with disinfectant
praying to an absent GOD for health
while shoveling GMO corn chips into ever widening
mouth holes
pharmaceutical companies lick lifeless lips
as Congress recognizes their humanity
while rejecting the concerns of the poor
…..no money in it –
outlandish claims of outbreaking Ebola
flood the mainstream outlets
fear: version – infinity
one more plague plan to stimulate new legislation
more law
no touching
even looking at the infirm can be cause for isolation
radiation treatments
courtesy of Fukushima, reactors 1-4 –
new found focus on fracturing the shale
releasing new oil reserves
and old bacteria
dinosaur killers
free-radicals
radically changing the genetic code
humanity altered
once again –
Oct 14, 2014
Oct 14, 2014 at 12:16 PM UTC
Walgreens pharmacy girl
your upturned nose and your hair pulled back
here to pick up my prescription and a snack
Walgreens pharmacy girl
Ive been coming here for years
and every time I leave the drive-thru I'm in tears
Walgreens pharmacy girl
For so long, I've loved you from afar
yet still I have no idea who you are
That's Berger, B-E-R-G-E-R
Walgreens pharmacy girl
My date of birth again? I would have already memorized yours
I'd remember our anniversary, put the toilet seat down and do chores
Walgreens pharmacy girl
Am I anything to you besides another bottle of pills?
I have to know now because not knowing just kills
Walgreens pharmacy girl
Will you refill my prescription for love?
Basking in a pharmaceutical moonlight, under the stars above
Walgreens pharmacy girl
I need a cure for what ails me
You've given me a fever and I'm feeling a bit dizzy
Walgreens pharmacy girl
No, I don't have any questions for the doctor, but I have two for you
What time do you get off? And what time would you like to?
Jul 9, 2011
Jul 9, 2011 at 9:00 PM UTC
Orange capsules of condensed vitamin C
Tumble out onto my cracked,
Outstretched palm,
As I arch my spine towards the bathroom sink,
Scooping lukewarm water from the faucet
Into my half closed mouth-
The tiny pills clog my upturned throat:
Just two of the numerous solutions
To a world too numb
To contest.
I've never felt more alive,
Than when I'm drowning my body
With handfuls of tap water
And magic remedies bottled up and
Marketed to a world
Afraid of growing old.
Lining the wall of local drug stores,
One isle over from office supplies
And scented laundry detergent.
Multicolored, multipurpose-
Labels proclaim the fountain of youth
To anyone alive enough to fear it.
There's never enough of reality
To reach our depleted veins
Through the ever present forms
Of the world. Enough isn't
Enough, until we've convoluted it into a tiny
Plastic oval, and forced it down the throats
Of those well enough to swallow it.
Pharmaceutical companies proclaim their
Daily gospel in the linoleum streets
Of hospital waiting rooms
And local grocery stores,
As I cross my heart and count the
Hours until my next prescribed dose
Of complacency. Who knew happiness
Could have the bitter after taste of
Vitamin B or
The credibility of Zoloft.
The sandman has been replaced by Benadryl,
While creativity lies stagnant
Beneath adderall's indifferent thumb.
Obsession is a 26 letter alphabet,
Strung together by a bunch of deficiencies,
Incoherently droning on
To the burden of Man,
And flickering neon light
Of a drive-thru pharmacy.
Sep 26, 2013
Sep 26, 2013 at 1:41 AM UTC
People say they want to try
to fix the World's problems,
yet few do more than simply imply
that the Symptoms are the problem;
We need to stop simply treating Symptoms
and begin again to seek the Source;
only then can we begin to progress
and begin again to Harmonize.
But they don't really want that;
you see, they like the World's problems:
Perhaps they see it as Vindication
for propagating their vitriolic Dogmas.
Perhaps they seek to seize control
of Earth and her Inhabitants,
or perhaps they seek to establish
lucrative business contracts.
In any case, it seems to me to be the case
that they'd have stopped some problems, just in case;
that is, if the case was that they truly and earnestly sought to:
The World's Problems ensure future Business
for the Military-Industrial Complex.
The World's Problems enure future Business
for the Pharmaceutical-Industrial Complex.
The World's Problems ensure future Business
for the Disedification-Industrial Complex.
The World's Problems ensure future Business
for Banks, Demagogues, Tyrants, Corporations and Thieves
(sometimes all are one in the same!)
-
We need to stop dwelling upon the Symptoms
and do something about the ******* Source;
It's about time we, as Humans, stood up to this; our Wretched System,
for precisely the same ideals it so facetiously claims:
Justice, Equality,
Freedom, Liberty,
Tranquility, Solidarity,
Opportunity, Prosperity;
We have strayed.
We have been betrayed.
We are being played:
We should be ******* irate.
Irate, and yet Calm.
Non-violent, yet resisting:
Civil Disobedience is a Virtue
in a World such as This.
Civil Disobedience is a Symptom
of a World such as This.
Jun 26, 2013
Jun 26, 2013 at 10:01 PM UTC
perfunctory actions
zombie habits
sheep normalcy
blindly following the cud chewers
lemmings fall to their deaths
slowly
genetically engineered crops
dusted with pharmaceutical poison
laced with irradiated petroleum pesticides
fed to the babies of the poor –
wealthy voyeurs eagerly tune-in
as the impoverished masses rot
for viewing pleasure
leisurely strolling across manicured lawns
those in power scoff at the growing spectacle
unaware that the cake is stale
and the masses smell blood –
hurriedly, accountants shuffle tax rates
mix those with interest credit
season it with mortgage fees
and serve it on wall street
place mats
taking stock of stock market gains
gamblers do double gainers off high rises
adding to the flesh being consumed by the under class
under classed –
underclassmen, underpaid, stretch under ware elastic
as waistlines expand with the debt ceiling
both symbolizing the slow decline of
the American dream
screaming into the sewer
fewer eyes look back as disease dulls the iris
loss of the inner shine
glowing reflection of living organisms
fading as the day
slips into the blue-black –
night falls on a nation of imbeciles
brain dead patients
broken by depression and weight-loss scams
hearts crying out for care
personal and compassionate
instead are met with sterile robotics
and sanitary “C” students dressed in white
fearful of lawsuits
and spiders
they prescribe to symptoms
without knowing insurance number 87319A23-S1
is a human being, just like them
also living in fear
of the same establishment –
Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 1:33 PM UTC
The inverse of error
A metaphorical math
Because I rhyme so sick in season
You can call men Sylvia Plath
You can call me Sylvia Plath
Spilling verses accidental
Spilling blood like pen and paper
Give me rock paper, scissors—construction
Philosophy of metaphors—the reciprocal of destruction
Creation in deviation
Multiplication in meditation and mesmerizing memorization
Mad in the head, but I’m a mat-hatter for love
'A zombie by neuroses
A zombie by drugs
But on those pharmaceutical
Cause cut **** is for thugs
(3% probability
Is in the margin of error
How many times have we ******
And would you even care?
Oh, despair. The plague of a woman-
Slick wit like slick ****
And you can call these rhymes grimy
Because I’m cleaning your eyes with it.)
Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 8:43 AM UTC
i sit here and overdose in my imagination for the fifth time today
too poor to **** myself with a pharmaceutical fantasy no pain just sleep
it's a matter of time before i'm found swinging in my basement necrotic windchime
i'm not so much a poet as a sad kid rambling who can only write inebriated
this one time life thing is getting me sick and i just don't..
**** me i thought i was stronger than this yet years with a **** job
no girl and 5 weeks a night of left hand ************ while i choke down
another bottle bottle bottled my emotions in a seven dollar anesthetic
i've been romanticizing a wished for **** addiction at least that would be an
excuse for why i'm a wasted wasting waste of life doomed to insecurity
i can't even remember half the words i learned in school
you're probably sick of my self loathing and every poem i write is
just another narcissistic cry for help because i'm to proud to ball up and cry
don't even bother this time i don't want your reason for why i can't top myself
kick my bucket, burn my farm, pluck out my eyes and puke till i die
i'm ******* done i'm just too tired to try
to all those girls i never kissed - i love you
to all those ******** i never hit - i love you
to that boy that i might have found myself with - i love you
to my best best best friends the few that i have - i love you
i was never comfortable in my skin
maybe i'll be comfortable in my grave
Sep 10, 2013
Sep 10, 2013 at 3:59 PM UTC
Pharmaceutical angels hover
in the space above my sleeping head
chanting slogans
they have been paid
to whisper in my ear.
“Keep it clean with Terbenafine.”
“You can fly on Abilify.”
“Everyone’s lean on Levothyroxine.”
“Go on a roll with Anastrazole.”
“You’ll get a thrill from Lisinopril.”
“There ain’t no reputin’ the bliss of Welbutrin.”
“Don’t be a geek. Take Pristiq.”
“Go far on Adderall XR.”
“if you want to rate, take Cypionate.”
I wake with a jolt
the neurons of my prefrontal cortex
already firing like machine guns of craving
for the treasure in my medicine chest
and I know everything is going to be fine,
just fine.
May 4, 2013
May 4, 2013 at 4:48 AM UTC
It's a perfect day
Yeah it's made just to play an acoustic
But the first one
With roots with the frame of a huge stick
And it's just for
You it's ingrained oh with the name of The One and straight from
An unpolished and untamed platonic love so here it comes
A song prior to the Vinaccian fame because baby I'm
A pharmaceutical part-time musical carpenter of the heart and the
The first verse in reverse comes words we've never heard
Like a message from the best and it's a version for the birds
Where infancy's re-lived
To speak of infantry's a kid
And the reviver speaks Malayalam-sans and baby then he says
"It's the way I am and it's my way man"
Maybe you hear it
Girl I humor and I do it when I want you
Maybe incoherent
But I'm fluent in the music to taunt you
To be your pioneer
Oh it's like fuses to my ears 'cause
I'm deaf with nothing left
But yeah the music you can hear and
I lose it when I'm with you my dear so
Maybe you hear it
I humor and I do it when I want you
Baby incoherent
'Cause I'm fluent in your music to flaunt you
Oh you hear it
Girl I humor and I do it when I want you
So incoherent
But I'm fluent in the music to taunt you
May 12, 2014
May 12, 2014 at 8:41 PM UTC
I found out the hard way
Love is not
a miracle cure
pharmaceutical antidote
or herbal healing.
Love does not
guarantee happiness
deliver peacefulness
or reciprocal feelings
Love will only
confound beliefs
bastardize truth
and beguile dealings
Love is
an incessant languish
an immobile reality
and repentantly appealing
Love is a trap
With you.
Feb 22, 2012
Feb 22, 2012 at 2:54 PM UTC
Jack and Jill were two mentally ill verbally armed cannibals
Doing there best to switch their diet to farm animals
They found this rough, like eating crackers with cotton mouth, this task proved to be little more than tough
They promised each other no more cadavers, but a month after this, they called each others bluff
Jack ended up addicted to crack, dope, and smack
Cause the supply of bodies was beginning to lack, spinning more off track
He began to look at Jill more like a tasty snack
Jill took the pharmaceutical cryptic approach
A pill could **** her flesh craving will and keep her from feeling like a post apocalyptic roach
She too was starting to drool and think of Jack like a snack bar,
and couldn't help but remember her first taste when she bit the arm of that high school track star
One night when Jack was asleep, Jill began to slowly creep
Into his room she crept as he slept stuck the knife in and drained the blood from his neck
Jack was gonna be her tastiest snack yet
Jill always seems to forget
Jack is always playing games and putting her to the test
She ends up paying, for Jack knew their growing hunger would soon cause a mess
Jack stepped out of the closet
Jill pulled back the covers to see she just killed her own niece
Jack said "Haven't you ever seen "Hannibal?". "If your gonna be a cannibal, you gotta be smarter than Clarice".
-J.A.M
Aug 4, 2013
Aug 4, 2013 at 2:32 PM UTC
vyvanse, at last, my chance to be
alive, to do, to finish all my
projects, **** I love this job,
I want to dig it all day long
ritalin, my only friend, you'll be
there till the very end, I know
that I am happy now, I
think that I have meaning now,
I wish you wouldn't bring me down, I wish I weren't
running out
adderall, yeah that's my ****
when addie's there, agree with it,
I'll never stop this addie binge, I know that
I don't have to quit,
my doctor tells me "this is it",
my dealer tells me "this the ****
I'm happy now it's safe to say the
war on drugs will end today,
amphetamine's the bread we break, the
wedding band that's been exchanged
between this government-sanctioned
pharmaceutical cartel
and the DEA
May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 8:43 PM UTC
And so as a man, a job,
a cactus wearing a business suit sharing relations with the hydrant down the street.
A ***** strapped to a baby carriage with plastic baggie cellphones
yelling "run away now"
to the grass at his feet.
A man devoid of water, rather.
These are the times
A well, emptied.
Rather death
find waves of spilled milk and
all the fat people, skinny.
A dry mouth desert, kneeling
In either breath of a living feeling
or the one that talks of so much
for only the wealth of his screaming.
Some tiny furniture talked all night about running through wheat,
ebbing and flowing against the end tables,
then falling short as crumbling tree leaves.
An ottoman as recycle bin holding stem
from stem of watermelon children
and vine-ripened acetaminophen.
Some odd truth told the blowing wind that
God does cartwheels with Lucifer at random.
It then billowed out about
his ***** underwear and holy fodder for memorandum.
I would say a man, a vision,
A little girl using a GPS to calculate the distance from the rest her teething.
Instead, she found a funny barbeque ***** playing hog-tied pharmaceutical reps into neoprene
mud-flapping pigeons.
I would say the sinking plastic six-pack islands revealing trash limbs,
sunken,
honest,
grim.
Life, itself, must move in tandem to only fleeting geese.
Though in plan, the artisan-picking fruit of word must be depicted.
Live in sin and ignorance much like the
breaking news walking on broken record.
And so as a man; a fear.
He looked down, staring at no one
with bare feet and shaken, coconut flavored palm trees.
Jan 28, 2013
Jan 28, 2013 at 4:27 PM UTC
We just swallow & stitch on
flimsy pharmaceutical feathers,
with gobs of spit and wax.
We circle the sun
hoping this simulacrum,
weighs more than a hedon
We practice ephemeral mechanics,
only with bridges on the river Styx,
then wonder why winter never seems to end.
Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 8:15 AM UTC
Electrical Ghosts.
I'm glad that you
didn't have to fade
out of life
on support.
I feel sorry,
for all the new technologic ghosts.
Electrically wired into a circuit board of uncertainty and doubt.
That represent you in a series of
up
down,
up,
down,
down lines
that pace about
the pixilated to pharmaceutical perfection,
screened monitor
above your hospitol bed.
Mar 29, 2012
Mar 29, 2012 at 10:52 AM UTC
you of pharmaceutical lens,
Concrete handed
sharp edges rounded,
colours slandered,
you womb-safe,
blanketed,
bleeting sounds
non-threatening,
Shadow individual
Deodorant mojo,
the man-made park,
well governed hair
lips are moist and plumped up,
a conveyor belt human,
bowel movements and idle chatter are corporate losses,
Neglect that which is outside this Kingdom,
the office must remain hermetically sealed to ensure maximum shareholder profits
breathing in sand and time,
this here void of monotony,
numbly dispirited
poor food and no discipline (that's you),
face is sallow
sagging,
you are nothing,
not really,
your bonus will be paid at the end of this month.
Oct 19, 2018
Oct 19, 2018 at 7:00 AM UTC
What dream are you dreaming?
What are you missing, seams tearing
Bearing the weight, hungry children haven’t ate
Picket fence, just a gate
Locking you in, a stagnate state
American dream, American dream
Seams tearing, weight bearing
Tick tock alarm clock blaring
Swearing up and down
That you will be more
more than what you are around
But equality is only ideology
Reality is brutality
Suburbia only exists
On top of working class fists, stress
Test, testing schools underfunded
Mothers gone, and fathers drunk loving
Lies, corruption
Deceived by our own government
Monsanto’s sits on the top of the hill
Selling people food, that only kills
Pharmaceutical companies with overpriced pills
Poverty at a rate
That is sending chills
What dream are we dreaming?
Aug 21, 2013
Aug 21, 2013 at 12:40 AM UTC
Fiending for a reason I've seen,
Shrouded by a pharmaceutical haze,
I pick up the phone,
hear the message,
what did you say I forget,
nabbed and cuffed,
thrown in their net.
Nov 17, 2012
Nov 17, 2012 at 7:52 AM UTC
Pharmaceutical Commercial
A senior serene woman
with blissful eyes
lays down in a garden of dandelions and kale
spreads her legs to the warming sun.
"Lack of desire? Ask your doctor about Libidothan.
Side effects may include:
Nose bleeds
liver damage
heart failure
marry your daughter
make you touch your toes
stand on your nose
Grows hair on your head
Gives you *****
Grows hair there too
Makes you feel so funny
like a long neck goose
make you shout out
baby that's a what I like!
Inform your doctor
if it cures you or kills you"
Phone Tree
"Please listen carefully for our menu has changed. Your business is very important to us.
Press one to speak with the universal complaint department.
Press two to find out the exact moment and cause of your death.
Press three to find out who your lover is having an affair with.
Four to speak directly to god or Santa
Five to speak to satan.
Please leave a message.
This voice mail is not monitored.
Have a nice day!"
Pastoral Chic
(On the label of chicken parts)
The McDougal family farm
set in the rolling green hills,
Petaluma California,
Where small towns know how to live,
And neighbors take care of each other,
Our family farm,
Five thousand square feet
of slaughtered chickens
feeling the love of what it means
To be in a family farmers tender care,
From our ****** floors
to your dining room table,
From our family to yours
with tender loving care.
(No antibiotics/gluten free/humanely destroyed)
May 20, 2015
May 20, 2015 at 10:18 AM UTC
These little blue pills;
spheres labeled:
"A-215"
pharmaceutical-
synthetic heroine
cross w/ *****
Well.. they ripped
a new *******
in the youth.
Some say,
"they make
you feel
like...
Superman"
Some say,
"Nah man,
I don't
mess with
that ****
I didn't ever
get involved
with it
But I still
got to see
what they did
A few kids I know
went to rehab
and back
The smart druggies
say, "it's the rich
kids' crack"
Once you in,
you are in,
there is no hope
Once you broke,
no pills,
just straight to dope
My good friend
from home
is starting to use
Now all he
thinks of is
snorting them Blues
Sep 9, 2012
Sep 9, 2012 at 12:21 PM UTC
Staring downward
Listening intently to the next curse
Intent on you
Wailing
Reverse peristalsis
Rugurgitation of a steel keg
Incurred by you
Swallowed
Eyes dilated
Fixed by an insatiable mind
Allowed by you
Clarity
Senses ******
Pharmaceutical entities flood the brain
I love you
Baby
May 13, 2010
May 13, 2010 at 8:46 PM UTC