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

It was a slow day, So, I pondered on the past… Life is not a child’s play, Not all the good things last..! Where I thought I’d be, On the pinnacle of fantasy… But now that I look at me,

The sheer joy, words tumbling, Smiles abound, gestures whirling, And then, when friendship dies, Hesitant steps, mumbled greetings, Quick getaways with glances fleeting. Eyes shining bright, silences rare, So much to say, so much to share, And then, when friendship

my bridge is falling down it is falling down where have I gone i am gone the bridge is gone i am down the wall has gone up it is high up the bridge is down where is the bridge

Dance of the Cobra In the shadow of a Supernova Somewhere in the Mist of the Sea Desire encircling You and me The smell of you is Intoxicating and has me Rising to the occasion Tonight as do Your eye’s

Well and here I go again opening up our book of love to when I was yours and you were mine and I still shed a tear reliving all those sweet summer nights knowing they’ll never come again…how did our

My violet pastel pencil came to a rest after sketching the outline of the natural pond fringed with bamboo, palms, and exotic tropical foliage reflected in the mirrored waters. Standing before the easel I couldn’t get my eyes off the

Illusion! The lost wanderer Where does the path lead? An elegy, Lamentation of the heart A bleeding soul An effete relationship, Creeping desires Alas! Astonished lie all In search of “Sculptor” Lost in the wilderness Self despiciency Slight, a revulsion

Just when I was ready to give up on love You Came Along Just In Time When I didn’t think there was any real Reason to carry on, you put back together The broken pieces of this heart of mine

Looking at you, I realized I was home. No matter how broken I am, or my irrational fear of being alone, Could stave off this hunger I’ve developed deep in my bones. Starving I am, for a piece of you.

I just walk through my day as I stroll through a dream Where all things are as possible as they may seem, Where the moon rides the daytime, the sun rides the night For surely this means that both periods

May God Bless…. The one waiting for a loaf of bread The one wandering aimlessly The one craving for love and support The one who wants to learn in School The one who got drenched in rain The one shivering

Ages ago, story of a girl Dejected for what she looked Thinking just fair and beautiful Had rights to glory booked Did not realize that beauty Lies in the eyes of beholder Always self deprecated Life felt like a boulder

The pain in my brain and eyes, Is nothing compared to the torture of hearing your incessant cries. Nor me having to invent lies to hear your swooning sighs. How depraved I must be to repent this on a keyboard Rather than your holy

From the sneaky shadows and frightful darkness, his saddened soul released terrifying wickedness. Things which had died, arose from deep inside. Perhaps it didn’t really demise, but simply hide. Even he was surprised, but dismissed his pride. Our own heart

Just needle on all of their pain, Is there something that you’d like to gain, But its all amiss when she plants her devilish kiss, After all, somebody’s misfortune is someone’s momentary bliss. Well the Schadenfreuder never sleeps, At least

Cleaned once again, my small, ash-color, brief case, That I used to take with me, on all my voyages. Ash, I liked not, but happened to be the one, I had, As none else, so small and compact, for my

To her once for whom, I soulfully lied, for whose glee then, the whole world was defied…. And when she said, people say ya… they say too, I promised her that, I will stay…. yes I do…. To her with

Standing in a field, Just feeling cool. My mind settles down like a glass of water. See a clear sky, blue above me. A sound I heard like a voice of an angel. It waves into my ears. Looking into