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

The walks of life has layers of past Some of my own and some unknown Few conquered truths amassed Many a battles lost and thrown. Scars of wreckage and circle of life Oh, those angel with heavy wings, still flies

I don’t have everything, for once I have nothing; But a dream for a better day, and for you to help me find my way… I am a man, sure to make mistakes, but to keep you, I’ll do all

1916. Rossetti and Taberlet. Those are the first two names we read on the memorial, The captured soldier breaking for freedom, stood silently upon the delicately quiet letters that form lost names. There for decades, in sleepy Morzine. The thick

During the time before television came to our home, My dad sat there in his car on a dark Southern night. And I was somewhere close by, enjoying a wonderful Game of Major League Baseball on the radio. O, there

There once was a perfect world. The future will yield yet another world of perfection. We shall not presently bother with the former perfect world, Nor even shall we engage ourselves with a future one. Moreover, in a perfect world,

A look to behold A passion to fulfill A life to live An obligation to creed love, loss and the futility of it all… Buckle up still, while you can meandering valley of sorrowful loath sunrise of purpose and lost

Attending your classes, completed a bit syllabus of this subject, Surprising test gives shock in every project Attracting your lecture, impressing of your confidence, Growing of love, console you to be dominance Director of this film, say to never fall,

Will stand alone, challenging time. In the world, which never seems to be mine- Fake people, shallow souls, Sometimes, even my shadow was not mine. Betrayal and breaking trust, Was a routine and was absolutely fine. Playing with people’s emotions-

Remains busy from dusk to dawn, Giving his soul to Satan’s pawn. Keeping all the tricks buttons on, Man is nothing but a chameleon. Cheats all for his lust and greed- Third rate creature he is indeed. Sows contempt and

Don’t fuss, give me two thumbs up. No one’s flawless, we all mess up. I’ll get it, don’t give up. Like the sun that shines in the day, moon at night, there’ll be a time when I’ll shine too. We

A river was frozen in my chest, O God – I choose a burning boat to reach you. My planet has become a broken bridge. Voiceless hymns are haunting me. Standing in a remote village of words, my poetry beside

I find my evenings on the sombre side , I don’t know how to put them right , It’s just like the flying time comes to a stand still , which I cannot fight !! I find my evenings on

Lighter than a feather, when weighed on you though, never heavier, Rain in the storm, blown away I’m torn, open up, it’s not like the norm Adored but not shown, praises that become worn, Show me the love, where’s the

The wait is finally over Time to experience a complete makeover Amidst the thunder raindrops will be drippin’ Turning dusty leaves fresh and green ”I’m the sole power”, thought the summer heat Through tiny drops of water it faced defeat

Imagine our world without grass and trees at the hill, Will you be able to find fresh waters to sip and to kneel? Imagine our world without waters, Will you be able to swim, ride in a boat or cross

I He caged a raven thereby saddening a sufi gentleman ,who thought none of the fraternity of man incompetent to do something so absurd . Actually ,when consulting the mirror of his mind and the one in his bedroom, he

In the labyrinth of your eyes, He wanna be lost and die, Don’t you see his outer cries, Don’t you feel his inner demise, You are the one for which he tries, You are the one for which he lies,

To find a safe god he traveled inside the books to develop the tradecraft of winning the world. Fog squinted from the sky and elite sun waited in the lobby. Steel-pellets, flesh and body parts will follow, to nip the