Overdose Awareness Poems

I can’t see through every lie The only truth I know is dying Isn’t that a sad thing to say But anything is hard to believe When everything isn’t what it seems what I used to know doesn’t matter anymore

Abstraction has become a constant routine. Contemplating not knowing what to do or who to become, had became a life’s affair. Coming up with disparate possibilities on what to do in life, I came up with: Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Zippo.

In this timeless ethereality where silences build converted assonances and gravitational elapses, I breath your unspoken space within my pollinated reflections… Petalled essences of your insights swing the Eternity on the edge of my second… Echoed Time graciously bleeds rainbows

They are money hungry actors Greed has them all backwards They get richer every time your back hurts They are ruthless heartless bastards So they disregard all the hazards Gain money, power, and control is their mission In hopes that

To entice by charm – Princess Ana, My teenage beauty. Never meant harm – singing Hosanna, She really is a cutie. Both met in a church – In her fairness, I wished her for a mate. She was in search

The Sun on my hands a shaft of light from somewhere. I first felt the warmth then the heat, the hands perspire the ray lights up countless jewels Diamond crusted gloves on moulded clay. Hands caressed each other, for time’s

” If you wish to make an apple pie from scratch, you must first create the universe.” —Carl Sagan It’s all in there, waiting, just waiting in the time before time, the universe, our universe, packed unimaginably tight, indistinguishably tight,

This morning at the town square, little orphaned children gathered to listen to stories and lies left behind by last night’s lovers. On one of the benches by the fountain, one of the children, a little girl with a clogged

Atop our heads, we place a special hat, We pull it off and that’s where verse is found. We look to Sklyark’s flight if we fall flat, Then link our words to pictures that resound. The muses visit us and

Their fingers gently interlocking, each clasped the other’s hand. In silence whilst they slowly walked, on the soft, warm, evening sand. Just an occasional inquiring glance, into the other’s eyes. Spirits in a romantic waltz, such depth of feeling a

I fell asleep at the wheel of my life In somnolent slumber I slid Cruising on blindly my eyes off the road While I from reality hid Days had no meaning, events left no mark Each breath unconsciously taken Smiling

It’s the basics man Blue car with a spider lawyer Lights on a swimming pool at night She speaks French when she cheats Green chiffon ghetto lit with blow Orange face on a palm tree Have you quit looking for

It was that wicked drug, Not some contagious bug, That caused a goodbye without a hug. We certainly cried when you died, And our tears eventually just dried, Because your potential to shine was denied. Even though you are dead,

I write beautiful poems in my quiet times, Sign that the universe delivers in silence – Great inspirations about love and crimes – With a poetic virtuoso ,I build my intelligence- Which I use to extract imaginative awareness- For the

Shedding the wholeness of negation you arrive: fear was sweeping the floor when smoke screen of love was hung on blue morning, you groped for a hidden coin, lost in the woods of mania. Distinguishing a chaste word, without thought,

Words have power to light fires of passion in the soul, making unsaid words waltz in unison of the hearts. Words are breath of life, a narrow line between, the real and declared, within one’s awareness of subtle meanings. Words

Life’s daily cycles: Mind thinks, feels, dreams. Intellect reasons; Heart craves; The “I” deluded, thinks it acts, It enjoys, it suffers; Waking, dreaming, sleeping cycles. Each in Cycle their own, revel; In the dim background; The silent ever Wakeful Awareness,

An idea aroused again In the very hope to become li’l sane An idea has aroused again As a solution to this disordered mind or brain the plan is to write some rhyming line with figure of speeches just quite

Repentance of things past and presence, and anticipated misdoings shall be of utmost importance. I shall be more open and vulnerable, being more willing to “Be Wrong”. Evils that are both subtle and also blatant shall be exposed, fought against,

Let your voice be your chosen weapon. Not guns that cause destruction. Pursue objective through negotiations, Sorrow’s not a solution. Speak, do not become destructive. Stop destroying and burning buildings. Respect life; don’t take it from others. Drop your weapons;

The snow fell quietly on the little hill with the softness of swan feathers, blanketing the ground around the tiny log cabin. Wispy drifts cascaded down the roof and gathered around the windowsills as if to cradle the tiny abode

Whirling discus thrower controlled precision, spinning presence concentrated energy coiled awareness for that one release Watcher sees and knows at the moment of letting go this one will be good same dynamic for shot putter, javelin thrower conscious complex actions

A look past the glass I can see my past Now freed from the disbelieve One can start to relive Though what can I gain? Still I am in pain Maybe with just a wish I’d change my accomplished dish

I told-told you, I-I want y-you The sunshine blinded me but I thought an angel was talking to me So I started to, to stutter, because of your, your nice little voice And I didn’t care where I was, I

Sleep becomes an enemy, Sadness a close friend. Hiding pain so eagerly, Trying to see this till the end. Sorrow builds in her chest, Pain is left in her bed. Her nights so restless, Sad girl left for dead. What

My friend I look at you My friend I know what you do Inviting all to come and see Living free in simplicity Flying through the sky unbound Envy of those on the ground Swiftly soaring eager wings Enticing song

“Before the Sun rose today I woke up feeling heavy in an unusual way Aware of the date and its significance No time to ponder, had to prep for work, don’t wanna be late As I clocked in at the

There once was a time when I wished on a falling star It seemed not to long after you came into my life From that time on you started giving me reasons to believe Now because of you i believe

They say, “You miss someone when you lose that one”; I’ve lost some electricity this morning, and I already miss my hot shower. The washing machine just forgot her daily round, while the purifier has peed not in his earthen

It was in you, the beast. Reading your private thoughts: tribal instincts to gather tools. Dwindling belief. You are left high and dry after the deluge receded. A big fire erupted in your house to burn you alive. Footfalls of

Journey of life, highs and lows Treading on with smiles or woes Love, laughter, scares and screams All in tow we pursue dreams Disillusioned, hope we seek Keep faith, when prospects seem bleak Often life seems a battle without a

She smiles in your face so pretty,   But her intentions are dirty,   Because behind your back it’s another story,   And she talks out your business like it was history,   So stop telling her things about you

Sounds of the highway; so peaceful to me Warm cool breeze ; smell of the country air Mountain views; snow covered mountain peak Turkey’s talking; eating their feed loving the country Life; country air in the breeze. This is where

Let me bequeath my fond memories to you Before I depart for the vermilion horizon Beyond the deep blue blur where the birds return at dusk… Memories of lazy winter afternoons beneath clear blue skies Rummaging through curious branches of

Champagne bubbles , Glasses tingles I hear cheers of joyful mingles, Toasting to they who lives for gingle . Dance with me under the moon light, Fall on my lips your crystal drizzles , molten in your arms as I’m

They are treated as mere numbers of human consequence, dotted ubiquitously on the front pages of tabloids and newspapers. They are figures that scatter my article weekly- seemingly just another number that the eyes will so casually scan over. Sometime

Emotional states of a neurosciencE Match another person’s spectruM Personal feeling as soft as snowdroP Associated with individual’s utopiA Teacher and learner both altruisT Home for those homeless, a flourisH Yarn of compassion and sympathY

Out of my heart run many questions Questions that can only be answered with another question Questions that can only be reasoned with love Because what is this life without love Once upon a time in the land of man

Oh, please give me a break! I don’t speak the language That divide and categorize I don’t take pride in belonging to the groups It’s a sheer hypocrisy to which I won’t stoop I speak the language – the language

Pillage started, when there were anti-answers. The trapped light- wanted to be released, from brutalism. When you were nearly drowned, in the multitude of questions, joining the palms, you collect the moments of solitude. You drop a key in the

I want to say thank you mama I want to say thank you papa For having me born in this time So i could meet this woman and Make her my Valentine Now it’s up to me to be Tender,

You let me in But I don’t let go I tell too many secrets There’s things you won’t show I hide in your capillaries Yet demand of you, all I chip at your fortress But build up my own walls

Crooks of elbows Squared in pegs Cream coloured walls The cool between your legs Closed buttoned eyelids Cloudy skies Web of fingers Your beautiful lies Tucked away neatly Amongst bits of red Metal staples Running though your head Yet a