Monday, April 25, 2011

Pull the trigger

I said in my last post that I would post two short poems. These are my poems from my adult life, not my teenage angst days. I'm not sure where my parents stored those poems. I would have to rifle through a lot of stuff to find them, so your left to read my shit. I mean they are truly shitty poems. Pure rubbish.

Opiate Cat Tails(has nothing to do with opiates)

Little monsters in the details
looking in the mirror I see no reflections
I lost my words, they have no inflection.

Meaningless love fights for death
A loveless dove takes its first breath
My favorite whore is dead
My favorite whore always in my head.
If you go I will surely die
If you stay I will surely lie
Lay dead in my bed.

Take the knife kill your wife
The man is a lady, the lady is a man
said the man to the lady.
A whores in my bed.


Sixteen Marigolds

16 magrigolds 12 of them are dead
I haven't the heart to look at them
My heart is a black bird flying away to sit on my perch and die

16 merigolds 12 are dead all those merigolds bloom in the frost
My tears freeze on my face in the cold
Thoughts wander off to the needle and I miss my works

16 Merigolds 12 are dead
I smoke my camel cigarettes without looking and my 12 dead merigolds
my poor dead merigolds.

I'm a half dead merigold 16 of me are alive 12 are dead
So there is some bad poetry for you to suck on. Only I know what they are truly about.

Aside from that, I woke up not sick, not sad, just normal. I could have gone without dope, but it was there waiting for me, calling me, and I fixed. I shouldn't use the word fix, because I wasn't fixing anything I was just getting myself closer to being fully strung out. My life is ruled by addiction, such a sad thought. My life is ruined by my addiction. Who knows what I'd have become had I taken the straight road. Lived in the straight world. I've lost 11 years to a needle.

When your not high you glorify that high in your mind, then you get high for the first time in a while, and it feels great, then you stay high, and you wonder why.

I guess I don't have anything good to say. I'm waiting on a friend to get me some Methadone to hold me over until I can afford to buy some more gear. Which will hopefully be a long time away. I wish that now, but when I'm out I'll be craving it, and calling around for it. Paying too high a price for it. Change that line of thought. I will not use anymore. Its a waste of time, money and a life. God grant me the serenity.

2 comments:

Gledwood said...

I prefer the first one more. It's almost like a song.

I could have done with gear today but it was because I felt scratchy and grouchy from lack of sleep. I still feel that way now. I know heroin would take that feeling away but it would also make me sleep and I'm not supposed to do that till later........

Sarcastic Bastard said...

I like your poems. You have talent, but I knew that already.