"stimulants" poems
*Pristine dreams of gossamer
in fantasies of white
This is what i hope will guide
my slumber on this night.
Rainbows in a sky of blue
with clouds of grey beyond,
Ripples lapping lilypads,
upon a golden pond,
Butterflies and hummingbirds
in acrobatic arcs,
Shade in grass beneath a tree
with choruses from larks,
A cool breeze on a summer's day,
my love within my arms,
Clouds that block the blazing sun,
a coyish smile that charms,
Stimulants for senses
in a countless, vast array,
Gratitude for blessings
i enjoy most every day,
All these things and more i ask
when sleep mine eyes doth close,
But most of all, a peace within,
and love that always grows.*
Aug 13, 2017
Aug 13, 2017 at 11:56 PM UTC
I bet you never got to know
That I wasn't always depressed
I was always narcoleptic
Every time I told you I didn't feel good and couldn't see you
I wasn't depressed
I was narcoleptic
That message in March
Where you said you even loved when I was so depressed I couldn't get out of bed
I was narcoleptic
I couldn't help it
People never understand, it's like how you feel when you've been up for days
I was narcoleptic
I could sleep 12 hours
And not feel refreshed, because my sleep doesn't heal me, like it heals you and others
I was narcoleptic
I know I took those stimulants
But they made me edgy and nervous, and I turned into a **** so I didn't take them but
I was narcoleptic
You see, those stimulants, Vyvanse
Made me feel like I'd been up for days but running on 2 pots of coffee because
I was narcoleptic
A man who has been up for days
Is not often the most polite and I hated being impolite so I stopped taking them but
I was narcoleptic
So I spent my days sleeping
Sleeping till noon, then needing to sleep at 3 PM, until 10 at night and then until noon because
I was narcoleptic
Your stepdad said he wouldn't stand for that "crap"
But I couldn't help it, I wanted to see you more than anything and I knew it hurt you but
I was narcoleptic
Not only am I narcoleptic
I think I have fibromyalgia just like my grandmother, who loves you too, I think,
I have fibromyalgia.
Today I'm still narcoleptic with fibromyalgia
But I've found a cure, a mix of two pills, one for the narcolepsy and one for the pain
One pill is designed for nothing but narcolepsy (not ADHD) and the other a narcotic for the pain
You'd have no idea how much better I feel than I did before
You'd have no idea because you don't care to learn who I am
Because I'm not who I was, I'm refreshed, something new, I'm normal for once
Not just feeling bad, not just tired and sore and fatigued, not so depressed I can't get out of bed
Just narcolepsy and fibromyalgia.
Nov 26, 2013
Nov 26, 2013 at 2:29 PM UTC
There's an architect designing the world from the skyline downwards, as he believes himself to be a God
The paraffin lamps on Victorian cobbled corners are as dry as the seraph in dust bowls over some arid sea
A portrait exists, of a town covered in mist and the orange cliffs are a thousand bloodied wrists
Somewhere music plays to ghosts, obtuse reverberations of some cave on a mountain... or something
and what a useless skill it is to be a poet, flouting fanciful words as if a single soul cared or could possibly muster anything more than unadulterated apathy
What a lonely life it is, to spend entire days watching *********** and reveling in dissociative stoicism
Watching cam girls for hours on end, swept up in conversation yet never taking part, only watching
They seem as lonely as anybody, holed up in crimson rooms as anonymous DJs play through laptop speakers
Fielding obscene questions with a smile and renting their body in timetables to the highest tipper
and some days the depression becomes so heavy that ************ seems impossible, though it's possible to blame such scarcity on the anti-anxiety meds that have ruined so many-a youthful folly
Is there a more flattering notion, than a story teller being commended for honesty when every word is a lie
Fictional accounts of melancholic lives told in a pulchritudinous verse or a prose of the most regal purples
Using nothing more than psycho-stimulants and a smeared bedroom window for inspiration
There's a writer sat at a desk, typing ridiculous lines of text, as he knows himself to be human
and in that humanity he strives to create a realists interpretation of existence through scattered memories
and derivative styles of his favourite authors whilst using educational texts as footnotes in imaginary diaries
Nov 24, 2013
Nov 24, 2013 at 2:10 PM UTC
My brain is much too foggy
And much too sporadic
To need stimulants,
Much less depressants.
I can dance all night
To the beat of my own rhythm,
And not need a reason
To act so rebellious.
I am a free spirit.
My brain isn't jealous
Of ones that need guidance
To make it see demons
And feel ecstasy, feel high.
I can get that on my own,
It's in my chemistry.
I don't want it to start,
But I'll go for a ride.
But your pills are cute, sweetheart.
Feb 1, 2014
Feb 1, 2014 at 1:17 AM UTC
2AM
I am assaulted with emotion at the notion of closing my eyes
my drunken blackouts are the only peace I seem to find deprived of my liquid therapy I sink into my thoughts
ignoring atrocious reality brings no solace to a villain caught
3AM
paralysed within myself calling out from my empty shell
a stranger inhabits my skeleton but I'm yet to hear alarm bells
my identity's gone missing but all the poles are poster-less
suffocating on small talk I'm lost in exquisite sadness
4AM
do my eyes of infinite tragedy hold the same tone of desperation?
dead detached peepers resemble marbles glossy from sedation
privately frantic for acknowledgment of my internal death
fearful you see my demise but see no value in my breath
5AM
mother dearest placed me on the curb for a foreigners collection unworthy of a garage sale I squat amongst the household rejections
amidst disheveled furniture a crusty mop makes my acquaintance
I suppose the oppression of my despair made it less contagious
6AM
whoever claimed sunrises bring hope never tried stimulants
the ***** smeared sky bears as much nausea as I implement
such is the tacky masochistic cycle of damnation
give me my slice of death and pray I don't awaken
i
grieve
my
whiskey
as
i
grieve
my humanity
Oct 11, 2018
Oct 11, 2018 at 1:48 PM UTC
Rocking my snap back, blowing up like a bellow back, juggling bars like it were a hacky sack. Life tries it’s best to give me set backs, but I just sit back and get back up for a comeback. Underdog from the underground, not here to blunder around for I want to be glory bound. Bound for glory, can’t keep me downed man for this is my heroes story. Story of my life, story that almost ended with a knife. Had enough of being left astray, for I no longer was going let myself be treated like an ashtray. Going into the fray, going in but this time I promise I won’t lose my way. Weighed my options, weighted the choices, and now they come to flourishing motion. I only listen to my own notions, and I will sacrifice anything to succeed even if I end up like the borthans. Death stares through the stars, but I won’t be taken by no Death Star. Starting ground up, for you gotta do what ever it takes to get to the top. Toppled the haters and the fakers, for my bars are like eating a snickers. Keep yawl satisfied and I’m so grateful that my effort has been gratified. Bonified dignified undenied modified undefined went in applied and rallied from a moral guide to tear apart the diseased hide. Government conspiracy, government deemed freedom of speech as heresy. And here I see the flaws, and here I came out of the depths with my claws. Clawed for my dream, dream of attaining cream. Escaped the depths of the Demi-gorgan pit, because it’s all about survival of those who are more fit. Fit to be a decency, but because I’m different I’m deemed a discrepancy. So I’m going in like a ghost doing recon call me Tom Clancy, exposing all these ******* fallacies. Falling down an icy slope, and for the longest time we couldn’t open up because we was introduced to dope which was anything but dope. Dopamine filling my being, neurotransmitters firing so fast that I attain this happy feeling. False perceptions to stimulants, false ideals gotta use discretion’s before I end up in a addiction predicament. Moving fast, moving slow, the ride won’t last, so I always gotta have me mo. Self medicate self evaporate self ********** which leads to self hate and broken fate.Too long since I noticed anything but myself, feel like a ***** villain man so should I arrest my self. I just long for rest myself, and maybe it’s time for someone else to assess myself. Maybe it’s time to visit the mental asylum
Feb 22, 2018
Feb 22, 2018 at 2:45 AM UTC
*Not obvious
Nature's
other dimension..
but with hesitation
there appear
pointers
and similarities
quick vistas of
Singularity..
These glimpses
behind fragments
are new experiences:
slight altered states
of consciousness..
quiet stimulants
of fleeting joy..
In remaining day
expectations rise
for finding more
cracks in that
Conspiracy...*
Sep 16, 2013
Sep 16, 2013 at 10:35 PM UTC
My chest will not stop it
There's like a little baby woodpecker
Thump thump thumping on me
From the inside
Too many stimulants before bed
I watched a video on drugs
But I was listening to music the whole time
They can call me to discipline
As much as their hearts desire
But you'll be at that desk
Only the faces will change
And I'll be at a rock show with
Sharpie on my arm
And a ringing cell phone
That I won't have to answer
May 3, 2013
May 3, 2013 at 2:15 AM UTC
He was there with
me, now he's there
with her. Or him,
them, maybe all alone.
He makes things better
by slipping endorphins and
stimulants of all different
shades down his little-boy throat.
He used to tickle my
sides and put kisses on
my shell, that held my
cerebellum in all nice and snug.
We would go no where;
Never get anything done.
We would make small
talk about growing up.
I would think about him and
think that he wasn't enough.
He was nice and gave
me all that he had got.
All of the lonesomeness, all of
the sad, all of the mad crept about.
Past my hazel irises and
began to erupt, mushing out.
Out of my ears, my pores, some right
out of my mouth. That day in March
my hypothalamus flip-flopped and
resigned from its job.
The boy who was there fell
right out of touch. An automatic
reflex kicked in quicker than
a frog catching a bug.
My legs lay criss-crossed and
bony, unshaven as I picture
him picturing his old best
friend, who he left and lost.
He day dreams of being aged and
playing Go Fish. Crackling at me
to draw, I grab his prune-textured
hand. In real life he starts to cry.
He sets down his room temperature can
of Mountain Dew. Grabs a couple of different
colored pills and goes out to party
in attempt to help him not remember.
Oct 22, 2012
Oct 22, 2012 at 1:21 AM UTC
They must not hear of
things that have gone on,
under this roof,
during these hours,
they would scream at the top of their lungs,
You do not want to know,
pressing intentions
why his waist bulges over his belt,
why his face is so red,
a murky sky,
eyes slits in ebony stone.
she is gone,
someone must know why,
others are left to guess and to gossip,
hens clucking,
you must not know,
what they whisper with thickened tongues,
There is a kind of pride,
in being the one that sees and knows,
nervous,
menaced by petty stimulants,
Events become like a sepsis,
webbed,
sickness multiplying,
years kind pass like temporary paralysis,
fear is a currency,
sometimes.
Oct 17, 2018
Oct 17, 2018 at 11:28 AM UTC
let me intensify the outside for you
to nullify the agony in your head
drink up, shoot up, snort it all
and i'll watch eagerly as your
pupils contract, veins constrict
as it sets in, and then
the concentration, oversaturation
of color and sensation, the distortion
of time and of your entire reality-
isn't this better than dreaming?
on stimulants, everything is wonderful
the bricks are beautiful until you hit them
the bruises are gorgeous until you remember the pain
and even then,
they're just colors blooming upon your skin
pause for a moment of clarity
retreat from waking reverie and rediscover
the mess you're in- an instant
almost-sober and everything rushes
back like a bullet train and
you just want to take that last-
stop
don't think like that
ignore the impulse
enjoy this while it lasts
squeeze every drop of euphoria from this
you'll be back down soon enough
you don't need to jump
sniffle a little now
didn't realize your nose was leaking
substance trying to escape
your voracious appetite
inhale violently, hope there's something left
-stop grinding your teeth
-you didn't even notice you were doing it,
did you
you weren't conscious of your surroundings
until you were knee-deep in this
i've created an addict of you now
as he did to me with that single monday,
that one high- he stopped, but i
couldn't
i was hooked and i don't blame him
he didn't know my history, my tendency
to find escape mechanisms and explore them
until it and i are both desecrated and desolate-
i just want to stop feeling for a while-
for as long as possible-
the future is irrelevant when you're out of your head
it was depressing in there anyways
responsibility doesn't exist when you're up in the clouds
it's only there when you come down,
so why come down at all?
my natural state
was lower than this grave.
Apr 1, 2013
Apr 1, 2013 at 1:53 PM UTC
Like a star, you
are completely unstable.
This is certainly true,
it is no fable.
A constant battle, between
your constant auto-criticism,
crushing your self-esteem...
Lashing out with witticism.
And your thoughts coming together
beautiful yet destructive,
yet it's only when it's them you aim to tether
do they tend to get disruptive.
Although I'm under no illusion
and I realise that your beauty can blind,
you create energy like nuclear fusion
and boggle my mind.
Some will be blinded by your brilliance,
others will never fathom your inner struggles.
You will have to find intrinsic stimulants,
and amaze those who watch you juggle
Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 2:34 PM UTC
consume endless stimulants
anything to get through this
lifeless eyes with sunken souls
tucked away in hidden holes
the hands on the clock do a full rotation
returning then surpassing their first location
alternating breaks between coffee and bogies
i sit on the floor, my effort withholding
breathe in, breathe out, inhale deep
i know not about counting sheep
a few more bodies tough it out
"we are the champions," i want to shout
and i'm delusional, so i just might
tell this empty room about my sleepless night
Dec 9, 2016
Dec 9, 2016 at 8:47 AM UTC
Body still, thoughts wander
Many things left to ponder
Early morning coffee pours
Sleepless nights i do abhor
Day goes by in a trance
Stimulants cant enhance
Space consumed with no soul
Passage of time beyond control
Communication with a nod
No existence just facade
Zombies walking, slowly passed
Hallucinations will outlast
Sleep is distant and crude
Mind and body in a feud
Neither living nor dead
Just a mind full of dread
Jan 15, 2014
Jan 15, 2014 at 11:41 PM UTC
I blame it on the easy things,
my parents,
past relationships,
black holes.
But it's always been me
that's been in
control.
Deciding to stop
when they told me to go.
Screaming out "yes"
as I was choking down "no."
Pressing the pedal
when I should've gone slow.
My actions and my words
never quite match up.
Saying I'm healthy
as smoke fills my lungs.
Calling myself an atheist
but telling it to God.
Sitting here wondering,
When will I stop?
I can blame it on the easy things,
stimulants,
a chemical imbalance,
the doctors white coat.
But it's always been me
that's been in
control.
Oct 6, 2015
Oct 6, 2015 at 1:17 PM UTC
Menthol Madness creeps into my head.
Tattooed Touch fills my mind.
I am not ready for this day to end. I never am - a lover of the night, I blur the lines between sunrise and sunset frequently. I lie on my back and think of skin, smoke, sense. My senses feel deprived. I need stimulation, stimulants....something. No one is awake. I am restless, unable to sleep.
What keeps me awake all of these nights? What occupies my mind during these hours? What keeps me up at night?
Jan 4, 2017
Jan 4, 2017 at 11:01 AM UTC
393
Did Our Best Moment last—
’Twould supersede the Heaven—
A few—and they by Risk—procure—
So this Sort—are not given—
Except as stimulants—in
Cases of Despair—
Or Stupor—The Reserve—
These Heavenly Moments are—
A Grant of the Divine—
That Certain as it Comes—
Withdraws—and leaves the dazzled Soul
In her unfurnished Rooms
1.2k
On the L:
She is simple and frivolous
You are far from chivalrous
She is fueled by fearlessness
You are pumped full of stimulants
She sees the entirety of innocence
You focus on the sombre imminence
She is bright & heavenly but wingless
Your eyes are dark with wickedness
She flicks her hair, always vertiginous
You are both unawarely synchronous
She smiles to her self, radiating magnificence
You feel the bitter grimace of indolence
something is changing, slightly, hardly noticeable
But her light, it shines on you
And you find your self shifting
Glancing at her sun tattoo
She turns to you & smiles
Then everything is changed
Everything floats for a while
As she puts her hand on yours
She scoffs - 'You look gloomy & brooding'
A chuckle escapes, long ago abhorred.
And slowly it'll spread
With the help of this lovely woman
But it'll take awhile for you to get into her head
And you will show her that the glass isn't half empty,
It isn't half full.
It's just a glass of water.
Jan 29, 2013
Jan 29, 2013 at 10:00 AM UTC
high school days I won't forget
all that nights I do regret
spent that time
on tasks and tests
Ignoring all
my cousins and friends
A teacher says tomorrow
another says today
one more exam
won't hurt a way
they teach us
what to be learnt
but in these subjects
you will never concentrate
Biology postulates
with some blood circulates
plus a little concentrate
never knew the simulates
stimulants , depressents
both are drugs components
they increase BAC
and i know my ABC
A doctor , I say?
oh no the other day
Chemistry is full of laws
with some words
I don't know
''Semipenmeable membrance''
haven't i told you so?
chemistry scientist
oh god no !!
i will pass
please go on
high school days
passes like slugs
on a traffic way
sounds not good
geology makes me regret
about all that time I spent
In one two pages my time split
just to know some folds and fualts
let me tell you
about salt domes
they go over
those rocky domes
but for me I don't care
because my hat
is over my hair
Deformation, am not so glad
don't want to know
more than that
Mathematic equations
flips my head
with rates of change
I am depressed
but in limits
I insist
about the sandwich theorem
I am impressed
tangent lines look so good
let's me know the slop, oh good
but an engineer
not that good.....
let me know
if you found my job
high school days
passes like hell
working all day
cramming all night
will my work
finally pay off
all that days
on tasks and tests
high school days
I don't know
if it's one last step
or one more slip ?!
Aug 10, 2014
Aug 10, 2014 at 8:59 AM UTC
Integrate
Simulate
Postulate
Irritate to imitate
Grind stimulants
into my bones and
teeth after making
sure that they
are okay
Imagine the universe
Constituted by my hatred
Space and time running
backwards and beneath
Stuck at an in-between
Bitten nails and
Bloodshot eyes
Never express your suffering
Your sins are forgiven
Aug 6, 2014
Aug 6, 2014 at 8:54 PM UTC
Surely in the distant future historians will find our civilization
Appalling, destructive, gluttony,
Stricken.
Receipts of items that once fulfilled our temporal desires will fill earth
creating a toxic compost for life
To nourish upon
They'll blame us for the decay
And devolution of man
They'll duly note our fascination
With stimulants and violent trends
And most of all, they'll be unable
To comprehend our impotency
our hubris our clemency
They'll construct theories
That moor our cultural malaise
To each recrudescence of tyranny
In essence they will despise our very nature.
Not out of contempt but out of fear that they too will fall
prey to the plague.
Dec 25, 2012
Dec 25, 2012 at 5:27 AM UTC
DARK CIRCLES under my eyes
weary and TIRED
looks like i got high
in reality ive been ************ with tears in my eyes...
your turn
my turn? my eyes burn as well
The demons of hell have turned my back into furniture
each vertebrae is in pain for heavens sake
My own wake will be replaced by someone more important
and my funeral will be postponed due to rain
comth with your *** sith
its the way of the conservative
so shallow, they may as well be illiterate to human sake
the writing on the walls aching for some pertinence
everyone sees the destruction, the wretched police enforcing it
helpless we die in our filthy wealth
until we learn to save our selves
luxurious items are wicked in the way of souls as prizes
what’s the cost of a couple ***** boys from Africa?
just a sheckle over a diamond why not? im buyin it
****** men, Damning all,
To Satan. To the Demon Ruler
*** siths on tongue and lips
drip after drip on the souls of ancestors
They watch you rule, oh slavers
they watch you drool over riches
to you, these beautiful nymphs
they're doomed to be *******
they follow your lead and become what you want
blame them not
for they are a byproduct of your weakness
Innocent hypocrites, diluted of all culture
vultures infused with stimulants
so stifled we cant concentrate on whats important
high after high
going lower and lower
Now we know the new world order
our graves have been dug
now we shovel the dirt back on ourselves
sleeping better than waking up
this society is an atom bomb
and were all dying from the radiation
noise and light pollution is all we know
where did the stars go?
i need to go find home
Sep 12, 2014
Sep 12, 2014 at 1:25 AM UTC
On tv it looks so copper clean
Ringing in naked dreams
Living out those picket fence schemes
To get the American bling
Morality is black and white
There are no heroic black knights
The good guys are just
And they just wear white hats
But life is painful
Like a cancer vampire
******* your life force
Pale skin quivering
Dark bags under your eyes
No hair there because of the chemo
Despair and denial on ivy drips
And reality tv made us ill equipped
To handle it
Sometime I wish the tears would stop
That the empathy would vanish from me
That I couldn’t see what I see
See what this reality has made of me
History is white sheets
Red arm bands, fat ********
Uninformed Loud mouths
A canvass that drips wet with my outrage
I sip the last drops of my stimulants
Drop the anti-depressants in the toilet
Forget my docility
Embrace more than half of my hostility
I don’t think much will change
Despite how hard I clamor
Despite the sparkles and the glamour
How I use the language to entertain and inform
This is therapy
In the form of Poetry
Feb 16, 2017
Feb 16, 2017 at 7:07 PM UTC