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

Tilted lips on the wet eyes. Below the lids was floating an island in a lake. Latched to a full moon I was trotting with snowshoes, trekking with stars. A volatile virginity rebounds ticking in your heart, spiteful. And I,

You pass through the prism of the Time, Thy life is a segment of it. Amid the dense woods, elder bushes and high pines You constantly strive to exist. Your feathers are odd among others – They’re lucent and white,

Water pouring inside the fence of beyond ten feet above the surf waves climbed higher as the tide was coming in at the usual hour Rocks mixed with shells colored brightly like a bright morning sunlight oranges, gray, blue and

Each time I fall Every moment that I find myself broken Wallowing in sordid pain of yore Tempted to flee, desperate for refuge And fear I’ve reached the end of the tunnel You come to me then, like an angel

Rains- smells Of dampness and chill, mother’s crispies, grandma’s tea Of coming home, all wet and cold, little pools flooding the floor Of dosas on the stove, day-darkness, drying clothes, A thunder bolt from the darkened skies, Wet feathers and

But to fully know love you must love yourself. And that is one of the hardest loves to know. To love ourselves is to find ourselves worthy, worthy of being a part. Worthy of being connected. To love is fully

I am smiling simply for the joy of being here with you; my heart could laugh about it but a smile has much more of a story to tell. The sun is warm on my face and the music begins

The night that breeds dark clouds of rankling dolour Within azure sky of my mind’s great earth, Delusive affection of thine enlivened fervour, Of joy of life and lustre triggers dearth. Thou rememb’rest those fragrant ways trodden, Back i’th’ longest

At first I mistook you for my own shadow under the shroud Of the horizon, in a pale early morning, when a burst of misty blue Words –spilling out of your eyes –made me wake up:        

Hi Daniel, There once was a man living high on a mountain whose name was Harry Mt. St. Helen was threatening to blow its top, and everyone started to worry Harry had been there 60 years and thought he would

Before you Know and in despair Humankind do hear my prayer As deep within my mind I scream In witnessing this nightmare dream Humanity it seems is blind Forgetting that to love is kind When did decay begin to start?

Wearily wandering, silently by The dreams and the wishes of yesterday’s sky, Remembering far away promises made Just pieces of flotsam adrift in the shade, Like explorers of truthfulness they travel on, Until every connection with yesterday is gone, And

Four on the fold; Turned within: Coil and Pyramid An eye for an eye makes No world deaf No love held No life had Not a moment here Or a road in sight […] Once upon a time, when you,

Oh my dear wife, the light in my life I argue with you without provocation but you calm me down with adulation I agree to disagree with you for no reason but your smile makes me agree to you in

You can learn a lot about a person watching them eat an apple even watching them in the supermarket give them a five dollar bill and tell them pick out any apple you want, it’s on me those store aisles

The mother of mothers Your statue remains a reminder A memory that penetrates through all The more you are seen, the much more Your love is felt and judicious dreams are built. Brevity is not for the lions only, In

Valley was vast View was the best Sun was about to set For prey, birds search to get Breeze was pleasant Passers were complacent Boys bath at a pool Crows fight like a fool Sun became a lamp Returning home

I wonder how the pyramid was made People were amazed because of its shape It looks so perfect, I wanna see it Oh! Pyramids of Egypt Why so rich in history? Its structure remains a mystery What I can see