"stimulant" poems
An innovative, creative, calm serenity
A spirit of togetherness and humanism
A patient, peaceful, joyful emotion
Independence
Different shades of Turquoise
A new, fresh, hopeful place of rest
Healing
Natural
Growth and development
Success
Vitality
A joyful, happy warming effect
Energetic
Sunshine
Arousal of cheerful feelings and freshness
Great mental stimulant
A classy, luxury glitz of glamour
A confident, generous, self-work
A victorious , royal, happy-to-go-look
An abundant, shiny, excess extrovert
Sophisticated
Written By; Esther Esuga
An innovative, creative, calm serenity
A spirit of togetherness and humanism
A patient, peaceful, joyful emotion
Independence
Different shades of Turquoise
A new, fresh, hopeful place of rest
Healing
Natural
Growth and development
Success
Vitality
A joyful, happy warming effect
Energetic
Sunshine
Arousal of cheerful feelings and freshness
Great mental stimulant
A classy, luxury glitz of glamour
A confident, generous, self-work
A victorious , royal, happy-to-go-look
An abundant, shiny, excess extrovert
Sophisticated
Written By; Esther Esuga
An innovative, creative, calm serenity
A spirit of togetherness and humanism
A patient, peaceful, joyful emotion
Independence
Different shades of Turquoise
A new, fresh, hopeful place of rest
Healing
Natural
Growth and development
Success
Vitality
A joyful, happy warming effect
Energetic
Sunshine
Arousal of cheerful feelings and freshness
Great mental stimulant
A classy, luxury glitz of glamour
A confident, generous, self-work
A victorious , royal, happy-to-go-look
An abundant, shiny, excess extrovert
Sophisticated
Written By; Esther Esuga
A sweet , young , pretty , subtle-charm
A girly, warm, bright sense of appeal
A cute, Fun, attractive, soft touch of feminity
A spark of warmth and tenderness with friends and family
An unconditional love, friendship and care.
An elegant pink
A royal, noble, selfless form of leadership
An enlightened, balanced state of maturity
A mixture of the feminine and masculine energies
An alluring, luxury of mystic fantasy
A beautiful, calm , calculated sense of wisdom
A color of heat, love, power and hot-passion
A vibrant, provoking, brave sense of will power
A seductive, romantic list of appetite
An attention grabbing, sharp rhythm of excitement
A color of signs
A calm, loyal, productive and conservative effect on humanity
A strong connection with masculinity
A rich, hopeful, desiring-lucky-go charm
A color of intuition and the sixth sense
Mostly heavenly and soothing to the mind and body
A friendly, stable , sincere, expertise of understanding
A cheerful, creative,bright-sunshine
A warm, happy, joyful, energetic summer
A spirit of optimism and success
Shades of orange
Angelic
A meek, peaceful note of simplicity
Pure, heavenly and gentle
An innocent, good act of precision
Positive
A powerful, bold, confident elegance
Wealth
A formal, classy sense of sophistication
Sexuality
Proudly black and beautiful
A color that absorbs
A strong, honest form of endurance
A stable, warm, comfortable, sense of maturity
A friendly note of earthly attitude
A bond with earth and its nature
A mediator between black and white
A neutral, reserved and modest aura
A solid, elegant form of maturity
A reliable, formal dignified class
A shiny, wealthy glitz of glamour
A modern sense of creativity
A gentle , graceful, kind touch of femininity
Sensitive
An innovative, creative, calm serenity
A spirit of togetherness and humanism
A patient, peaceful, joyful emotion
Independence
Different shades of Turquoise
A new, fresh, hopeful place of rest
Healing
Natural
Growth and development
Success
Vitality
A joyful, happy warming effect
Energetic
Sunshine
Arousal of cheerful feelings and freshness
Great mental stimulant
A classy, luxury glitz of glamour
A confident, generous, self-work
A victorious , royal, happy-to-go-look
An abundant, shiny, excess extrovert
Sophisticated
Written By; Esther Esuga
Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 3:58 AM UTC
iN & Out Of Rehab
iRelapse
Then Collapse
iNever
Commited To Sober Living So Why Are People Tripping?
Drug Programs
Are A Waste According To My Case.
im Never Going to Stop
unless i O.D And Drop
But Even iN Heaven Thats iF iRise.
With the Angel
imma Continue Tweaking Cause iM A ****** Tweaker
Or iN Hell With Fallen Angels.
It'll Be Better,
Since iSold My Soul To The Devil.
He Never Asked
iJust Gave iT Up.
iFell iN Love With A stimulant Drug made up Of Chemicals ****** Poison But idgaf il Keep Dosing.
Went From Snorting To Smoking
Methamphetamine
iLet iT Get The Best Of Me.
Part 2
Out & iN
2014 iTs Krazie
iM Back To This Dope ****
Its been Already 4 years and
Im still Addicted.
In & Out
Of Rehabs, Different Drug Programs and Sad That iStill
Havnt learned ****
Got Out November 19 2014 For The 3rd Time
And im Still Twisting, Getting Lit
Ilove Living Twisted
Im on a comedown
Im irrated right now wanting to take
Another hit.
Sep 6, 2014
Sep 6, 2014 at 2:21 PM UTC
Never Had iThought
Id Actually Be Or Fall inlove.
A Mutual Desire
Something iFeel And People
Dont Call Me insane
Cause iTs A Human Being
Not A Chemical
Substance.
iRealistically Feel, How iKnow
iTs Real.
He's Better Than Drugs
A Fullfilling
Natural Stimulant dose
My Happiness my
everything, 1st love of my life
Sep 6, 2014
Sep 6, 2014 at 8:18 PM UTC
*Yeah, I'm at a point where I'm handicaped by fear
When stimulant sadness clogs my eyes but can't shed a tear
A point when I'm afraid of both the future and my past
Feeling tethered to bad karma,feeling cursed
Stuck in this minute with the clock ice paused
On the fringes of life where all doors are closed
And heated so that not even opportunity can dare knock
Seated in the quiet of the noisy silence watching the clock
Frozen to a single moment yet seasons are ticking
And there're signals that rest of the world's moving on I'm picking
I'm living like a ghost that died a million years ago
One whose owner ailed of an incurable syndrome pride
A disease born of a blood ******* vector called ego
One from which the wondering soul's holder died
I'm at a point when I ask myself why I was born
When It's clear I have to work my fingers to the bone
But not even myself can get me to my feet to start the journey
I'm at crossroads, and I know I have to choose
Because I've got rest of my life at stake, everything to lose
At now, and thing about now is knowing the actual value of having money
I'm at a point when a have to make the big calls, hold or move on
Keep being a cry baby or put the badass pants on
Looking back to the age when I was afraid of Gekkos
And it's how I feel calling out and feedback's my own echoes
I'm at a point where I don't need spectacles to see my mistakes
Yet it still feels like I'm not ready and haven't what it takes*
Sep 24, 2015
Sep 24, 2015 at 10:22 AM UTC
I ain’t got no intimate, ain’t got no stiletto heels
Ain’t got no Lsd, ain’t got no smack
Ain’t got no partners, ain’t got no drill
Ain’t got no slapstick, ain’t got no hanky—panky
Ain’t got no Lsd, no slot to mount
Ain’t got no castrato, ain’t got no crumpet
Ain’t got no conjoined twins, ain’t got no nuns or eunuchs
Ain’t got no whipcord, ain’t got no adoration
Ain’t got no ******** ain’t got no stimulant
Ain’t got no ******
Ain’t got no oscillation, no shags
No uniform, no parts
No smack, no drill
No partners, no peccadillo
Ain’t got no stimulant
Ain’t got no whipcord, no propagators
No titbits, no intimate
I jabbered, I ain’t got no uniform, no hanky—panky
No peccadillo, ain’t copulated till one is blue in the face to have a funny feeling
And I ain’t got no ******
Oh, but what have I copulated, oh, what have I copulated
Let me tell what I copulated and nobody’s going to enlarge telescopic
I got my ***** on my face
My extra—sensory perceptions, my knobs
My ****** peckers and my ********
I got my stuck—out tongue
I got my tentacle, my proboscis
My ***** my *******
My thingummies, my cockles of the heart and my posterior
I got my ***********
I got my thingummies, my talons
My ball and socket joints, my forelegs
My hooves, my pincers and my snorker
Got my crest
I got ***** I’ve inseminated cheerleaders
I’ve got bottomgremlins and hacksawhoodoo
And Mephistophelian juggernauts too like you
I got my ***** my pistil
My ESP, my knobs
My vaginas, my peckers and my ********
I got my stuck-out tongue
I got my tentacle, my proboscis
My ***** and my *******
My ***** my ***** and my posterior
I inseminated my ****** sorbet
I got my thingummies, my talons
My ball and socket joints, my forelegs
My hooves, my pincers and my snorker
Got my crest
I got my ***** I got my slipperiness, my *****
I got *****
Mar 23, 2010
Mar 23, 2010 at 4:29 PM UTC
iNever Been iN A Relationship With A Human Being.
Only With My Drug,
Crystal ****
IConsidered iT My Lover.
My Baby, My World My Everything. iFell inlove With A Substance,
Felt So Real.
Created A Strong Bond
That Seemed unbreakable We Were unseperable.
This Stimulant Kept Me Away From Reality And Everything in it.
Blocked Me
From Having An Actual Boyfriend and Catching
True Loving Feeling.
iWas Blinded By These False Euphoric Feelings.
A Rush Like iF ive Accomplished A Hundred Things.
iWas Concentrated And Focused On Getting High And
Just living The Addict life.
That iHad No intrest At 16 Towards Boys or having a love life.
My Mind Was Just Set On The Streets And Dope Game,
Riskful Missions And Hanging With Friends. Guys Would Holler,
But id Give No interest.
Just Me And My Drug iS All That Mattered.
Throughout My 3rd Time iN Rehab, My Neighbor Would Call.
A Guy Friend.
Daily Conversations, Laughs And giggls, something so rare and unexperienced.
As iBegan To Recover & Emotions Started To Untie,
iBegan To Feel Some Strange feelings ive never experienced 1st hand.
Once iGraduated My program. We Communicated More,
I liked This, i liked him.
Was Hard To believe that after all he knew about me?
He was into me to.
My supporter, My Friend This Guy Became My 1st Boyfriend <3
041314
Sep 19, 2014
Sep 19, 2014 at 9:52 AM UTC
How do you tell someone that you’re tired of existing?
No one has done anything wrong, and by all normal standards this day has been quite nice, but something in me
can’t
handle
that.
Something in me can’t stand this constant standard of
“surviving”
Being exhausted of simply being is draining and no amount of stimulant can correct this.
How do you tell someone that it takes all of you to simply wake up in the morning? To wake, to breathe. How do you tell them that it’s nothing they’ve done, but you just can’t do it anymore.
How do you say **** like this?
How do I think **** like this?
Where could I go?
France?
Scotland?
How far would I have to run for these hounds to stop their pursuit of me?
Will they stop this chase?
The answer is no. No, I don’t think they will.
I think they’ll keep ******* chasing me.
They’ll keep coming. They’ll keep
this race no matter how run-ragged I may be. They’ll keep pace, keep biting at my ankles, keep snarling, snuffling, tearing the ground with their paws. They’ll hunt me until the end— no matter how many rivers or oceans I cross. Or maybe the river Styx will clog their all-knowing-noses….I shouldn’t have given them my scent. But they know it now. They know it and they want more.
I’m living off jolts of too much caffeine right now. What way is that to live? Living, though is an overstatement.
I’m not living— I’m just taking up space.
Taking up space and filling up volumes with these hollow words— as if I don’t know how stale I sound.
So where can I go? What do I do?
What the hell do I do when I can’t even decide if I want to be Alive?
What do I WANT to do?
I WANT a house in the mountains.
I want an herb garden planted in the shape of a sacred spiral. I want a river to bathe in, a fire place to cast into,
a cat to hate and watch suspiciously,
a dog to keep the hounds at bay,
a kitchen to make magick and medicine in, and a bed warmed by someone else.
I want cold nights and mornings warm
only because there is skin against my back.
I
want not to be a prisoner of my own words.
I want to stop dreading the day that I run out of words-- because the day I run out of words will be the day I let the hounds catch up to me.
I want moonlight&moonshine.;
I want sunlight and dizzy sun spots.
I want trees and the sound of a roaring tuck.
I want sweat and the smell of Wood.
I want woods and warm skin at my back.
Nov 12, 2012
Nov 12, 2012 at 5:26 PM UTC
Finally someone different,
someone beautiful focused and confident,
Has an elegance and a magical aura,
Saw her first passing by when I was reading quora.
Her face is a delicious treat,
Whenever I see her my heart skips a beat,
She looks pure, she looks innocent
kinda shy, her smile is my stimulant.
she loves writing, what a coincident,
Has a decent sense of fashion,
discovered writing blogs is her passion.
She smiles less often,
Looks pretty worried most of the time,
Maybe because it's a new place for her,
or maybe something else,
Yeah, She does speak less,
She seems like a mystery,
Wish we match a great chemistry.
I want to know her more,
I want her to know me as well,
I am interested I wanna tell,
For now, I just wish she is single as well.
On her, my <3 got stuck,
gonna give it a try, Wish me luck! ;)
Nov 6, 2018
Nov 6, 2018 at 2:58 PM UTC
Sarin –
An organic molecule
Used for inorganic purposes
Showering civilians
Effectively icing their insides
Contorting the human form into forced frozen sculptures
Acting as if torture was an art of the highest caliber
An acquired taste reserved for society’s finest
And this was the Michelangelo masterpiece.
Atropine –
The organic antidote,
Shoot up the stimulant to hurdle your paralysis,
Relax the respiratory muscles caught in your throat,
Your eyes team with tears because you’re allowed to melt,
Your eyes team with tears out of profound shock,
Your eyes team with tears because humans forgot humanity.
Sep 9, 2013
Sep 9, 2013 at 9:41 PM UTC
tick-tock
they must not sleep
tick-tock
now they talk about their broken dreams
tick-tock
now one of them screams
tick-tock
they are turning violent!
tick-tock
can they not survive the gas stimulant?
tick-tock
his vocal cords are torn!
tick-tock
God forbid, if one of them becomes his clone!
tick-tock
The others don't react
tick-tock
They know they are getting monitored, they don't wanna go back
tick-tock
We don't want to be freed, they said
tick-tock
On their own skins they fed
tick-tock
they killed soldiers six
tick-tock
the doctors do not have a fix
tick-tock
All 5 of them seemed pleasured by the pain
tick-tock
For this mystery, who was to be blamed?
tick-tock
few of them died on the operation table
tick-tock
they were all our monsters
covered by the illusion
Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 2:05 PM UTC
If you’re feeling sinister
Have your mom call the minister
Nail you to your splintered cross
Let him purify your thoughts
Regurgitate old bible verses
To further rid you of your curses
Leave your woes and your coven
Take your head out of the oven
Swear, kick, bite, and scream
Just like Linda on the screen
Put down your crucifix
Get off your cross of sticks
There are pills they can administer
If you’re feeling sinister
Florescent coats, fluorescent lighting
Padded walls to stop the fighting
You’re words and tasks become repetitive
You needed a stimulant, they gave you a sedative
Tell them the truth, they’ll correct it
You won't get better looking for an exit
So turn off the TV.
You with your poison-filled i.v.
Swap your identity
For some medical remedy
Don’t you know they’ll take you out of school
If you’re feeling a little cruel?
Keep your head down in the halls
Ignore the writing on the walls
Don’t listen to the slamming doors
They can’t live here anymore
No, the room hasn’t gotten colder
You’re just simply growing older
Ignore your phantom visitors
If you’re feeling sinister
Dec 7, 2024
Dec 7, 2024 at 7:07 PM UTC
This is the Genesis.
Incentives to diminish menaces.
Endlessness.
Will I finish this?
Infinite questions of aggression, are expressed when the deception of obsessions are a progression.
Infinite diligent stimulant from an incident, but im innocent.
And still I vent...
Sep 17, 2013
Sep 17, 2013 at 8:40 PM UTC
The horizon of the city shadowed the stars
arrayed across the windshield in the calm of the evening.
His lips grazed my shoulder when he spoke
his breath was warm on my neck.
He enveloped my whole body
though his arms were sprawled along the seat.
Words exchanged while the eyes relinquished their talents in the darkness
enhancing the touch
the whispers
"kiss my neck."
It was as if the music was from within our souls
pounding through each movement
like the blood pumping ardently through our systems.
Every impulse was impregnated with dubstep
the heat of our bodies was the friction of the melody.
**We were the music
a drug, a stimulant.
Ecstasy**
Rapt in the haze,
the world dissolved
smearing florid patterns over the windows.
When,
in a kaleidoscopic prism,
he was tangible
yet abstract
in the euphoria,
when we were both present
and far gone,
when
the music
and our bodies
were the only reality,
thats when I understood
absolute
untainted
blissful
happiness.
Jul 24, 2013
Jul 24, 2013 at 12:49 AM UTC
Ever since you started following me I realised you are a husk of a soul.
Your mere presence is irritating.
The fact that you're being an irritation bolsters my assessment that you are actually an irritating being.
What's it like to be an irritant?
Not sure.
I know you're being a stimulant.
Jul 6, 2015
Jul 6, 2015 at 3:37 PM UTC
Love is a drug.
It's a depressant, stimulant & hallucinagen.
Love is an anxiolytic & antipsychotic,
It's a mood stabilizer & antidepressant.
Love is the treatment for my instability.
So where is my psycho-pharmacologist?
Where's my script for rose-colored glasses?
Doesn't he see that I need my Klonopin;
My Zoloft is running low.
My Haldol is depleted & my Adderal is out.
I'm shaking with anxiety
My depression's dragging my down
To the depths I just escaped.
I'm seeing things that shouldn't be.
And I'm running in circles, too afraid to stop.
Where is my psycho-pharmacologist?
Why won't he give me my daily dose,
One simple touch to give me sanity?
Jan 15, 2012
Jan 15, 2012 at 12:25 PM UTC
We started with Jesus,
ripping him to pieces.
And that's not where it ceases,
the violence, it increase.
Life.
Death.
We ****
the best.
Jesus died,
Judas lied.
"Free Barabbas",
the people cried.
Jesus died,
Judas lied.
"Free Barabbas",
the people cried.
The people killed Jesus Christ,
they killed Mr. King.
The people killed Kennedy,
they **** everything.
Then there was King,
just doing his thing.
But his life was stopped short,
due to a killing.
Poor Mr. King,
just doing his thing.
Innocent man, dead,
due to a killing.
The people killed Jesus Christ,
they killed Mr. King.
The people killed Kennedy,
they **** everything.
Mr. Kennedy,
best president to be.
His term didn't last long,
killed while on T.V.
John F. Kennedy,
the president to be,
never got the chance to change,
the shape of our country.
The people killed Jesus Christ,
they killed Mr. King.
The people killed Kennedy,
they **** everything.
Killing is their stimulant.
So they **** the innocent.
How can they live with it?
Knowing they **** the innocent.
The people killed Jesus Christ,
they killed Mr. King.
The people killed Kennedy,
they **** everything.
The people killed Jesus Christ,
they killed Mr. King.
The people killed Kennedy,
we **** everything.
Jan 9, 2011
Jan 9, 2011 at 2:27 PM UTC
Beware the addictive properties of our own negative emotions.
Anxiety is a stronger stimulant than a quarter ounce of the highest grade of *******
Anger as intoxicating as a fifth of precisely aged whiskey.
Sorrow as mind numbing as fourty cc's of premium China White.
Denial masks pain like an eighty miligram oxycontin.
Fear can paralyze like propofol.
Ignorance more dangerous than a speed ball served in a ***** needle at a Hepatitis C support group.
Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 2:47 AM UTC
I do it to myself.
stirring and creating the pain
letting tears fall like a gentle rain.
My mind should be set,
on the goals that need to be met.
a university experience, no regrets.
But, the city and you drift together.
Los Angeles concrete heat, the sunny weather.
tearing me away from the clouded haze
of my darkened Vancouver days.
Your mind is a remedy, a stimulant to my own.
your environment entices me.
like a small mouse in the jungle all alone.
or an arctic fox in a desert far from home.
your hands tickle with my backbone,
they melt the strength away.
they weave and loop a canopy of comfort.
your arms a cocoon from the obligations of today.
Its an attraction that cannot be explained.
split seconds, that I rapidly try to frame.
Its the one week stays and the thankfulness I came.
its the feelings we share that are the same.
But, I don't want to be a second thought.
that unwanted, suffocating knot.
tying you down, a struggle to unravel.
whats best for me, is not this, I know.
your my happiness on a book loan.
waiting for the due date, paying out the fines.
memories and words solely on rewind.
Is it so wrong?
to want you when I have for so long?
To say I honestly don't give a ****
about the differences and this sad luck.
to keep the book for as long as I can,
to silence their voices, yes he's my man.
to return once more to the california sands.
and to have those quiet evenings holding hands.
Mr. Chavez, why don't you call?
I'm coming back to you, even if I fall.
I told you I loved you, please just wait.
because I will always be your best mate.
Mar 30, 2013
Mar 30, 2013 at 2:00 AM UTC
I'm quitting you cause you're a drug,
And drugs are bad (I learned that in school.)
You're a stimulant in the way that you make my heart race
And my pupils dilate, and my palms sweat.
You're a depressant because you blur my brain
And lower my inhibitions to the floor.
You're a problem.
You're an addiction that I'd like to be rid of.
But the withdrawals are Hell,
And drive me back to you every single time I throw you away.
Nov 27, 2012
Nov 27, 2012 at 12:27 AM UTC
The stench of battery acid in the morning
The slippery lubricant of littered snakeskin on the floor
Trash that once found liberation, salvation in the motion of its use
Now limp, lifeless, devoid
Abandoned without muscle.
The shadow of our wicked forms, braced against the balcony edge
Nerves alight, take fire. The steepest bet, a wager of the deranged sense
And that smell. It hangs in the air, still
Engulfs you as the animal sense is heightened. Without reason, all is pleasure,
All is primitive.
Out on the veranda, Diana dances. Part impulse, part stimulant. Her dimples stretching wider, farther apart as continents. Her hips convulsing
Man with the long hair, "You burn you burn"
Oh mother, we were created equally. Together in one cruel, carbonate mass of malcontent motives, of wicked intent. Selfishness attracts selfishness.
We are but a refrigerator door full of strange magnets, gleaming. Your southern fingers,
Dancing a slow tango down my spine. Your grip, lowering, sweaty and deliberate
Oh viper.
The texture of freshly cut grass and ***** crusted over bare toes. All smells of peppermint,
Bitter citrus flower.
Woke up in the morning, dowsed in kerosene
Rose petals sticking to the roof of my mouth
"There is no heaven, no hell," he said. Only us.
Jul 11, 2011
Jul 11, 2011 at 1:27 PM UTC
Uplifted from within my own
empty cavity of
jaded teen angst and apathy
apropos of nothing
but pure want for something.
It isn't something that strikes
my nerves.
But the nothing that hits me after
like a train that provides stimulant
more twisted than any cut *******
I seek through this
nothing.
Beyond
for Something but
not anything, it cannot be anything
else I would have Everything.
And I don't want everything
I want something.
But more likely than not,
that illusion, expectation, prediction of
something.
Dwindles down to nothing.
And still my synapse fire like
glistening pistons, kicking up passion
and biblical transgression
to steal their eye
and upon the apex of this nervous mess
and on the back of what I want to see
I see nothing and fail my own sense of
Anticipation.
And again I am left tense and uneasy
Walking alone. Trying to seek my something
always finding nothing.
Sep 17, 2012
Sep 17, 2012 at 11:14 PM UTC
Subtle, soft and infinite
Rising, falling, so intricate
These shattered love instruments
Beat in discordant dissonance
Your pain is a shared stimulant
Empathically articulate
I relive the incident
That made you feel insignificant
Such emotion, but you're falling into it
Sweet one, won't you look in the mirror
See the being that is unlimited
Don't look away
Heal the shame
I want to stay
But never the same
I will run my hand through your hair
Tell you this pain isn't
As real as your strength
Which is magnificent
Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 1:29 AM UTC