Posts Tagged ‘recovery’

Give me back
who I was
because times
got tough going
got rough &
I can no
longer tumble
allowing truth to be
pinned to me
when I folded
down my sleeves.

Toys they break
from too many games
played for glue
same type of fixed
different tricks
never new.

Never knew
it ain/t true
this isn/t you
thought you through
you will not be
happy until
your lips turn blue.

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Sit & finger
things that are
left behind
that I find
cause to remind
me of you
touch of scent
intoxicates
reintegrates
permeates
every moment
reality manifesting
memory reshaping
destiny
it is all in
the timing
of hurting

when it counts
do not think
nothing is special
different loves
at different times
I could tell
you that your smile
is a sun
following me

a dying star
illuminating
the dark day/ze
lightening between
pouring rains
heat making water
evaporate
I could say
that we are
sacred flesh
 imprisoning bones
clay of the earth
decayed
here to give birth
to what remains
of our pasts
I could scream

to hold on tight
while it lasts
because time
it moves forward
in a straight line
yet,
here we are now
struggling
with forever
wrestling
with each other
leaving us
with never
knowing we can
do much better
 dying to try
  to remember
our souls before
they were sold
down the river.

For if I change,
who here will change
their opinion of me?

The changing state’s
most difficult aspect
that sits heavily
upon this chest.

Forces
the shallowest breaths.

Weighs
upon decisions.

Cuts to bone
with surgical precision.

Further the blade
continues to sink,
to ease the pain
I like to think,
it never measures
against the sadness,
the broken promises
amid the madness,
I spread through
my bruised world.

Guilt from which
leaves one unfurled.

One way or another,
before we/re through;
we all with blood
will pay our dues.

The Moon At Night Shines Like A Sun

Posted: September 20, 2013 in Poetry
Tags: ,

SLOW

this morphine drip
her scent
comes through
in wisps
& time
stinks like a
coffin, the
red satin
fabric folded

ALL IN THE NOW

SO

from the past
we can flee
but when we
run we run
into the
future yet
again confront
the past
there exists

NO PAST PERFECT

THOUGH

this tangled
web we weave
will entangle
& seize
our right to
have a soul
have hope
stay changed
/till you can

ONE DAY BREAK FREE

 

Paid for the ticket

Did any body show?

We were far too busy

Casting out the first stone

Acting as if we know

Whether we’re alone

Like we’re not spinning

In a child’s snow globe

An abandoned exhibit

Overgrown thorn thicket

Where plastic flowers grow

Animated pin cushions

Terminally collapsed

Scar tissue…still pushin/

We all re-lapsed

Down, we all fall

Come one, come all

Claw & crawl

For the mysteriously ambiguous

Pretending to be pretentious

Poetic inventions

Of rationalized intentions

Too old to be precocious

Loose,

are the ends,
of the ties,
that we found.

 

Truth,

becomes scarce,
the further,
we abscond.

 

Sail,

with no wind,
can’t begin,
without fare.

 

Drift,

& just past,
the dead last,
in nowhere.

 

Smile,

stale crying,
just passing,
empty times.

 

Die,

for more life,
as we vie,
with these rhymes.

 

Birds,

when we fly,
staying high,
levitate.

 

Herds,

as we pair,
just to bear,
through the straights.

©2012 zenspeak9 publications un/incorporated

After getting the old,

You’re a really good writer. It’s just, your stuff is too dark. When are you going to write something happy?

for the millionth time, I decided to address this preoccupation with sadness.

I never had the words to articulate what I was trying to do as an artist, until I ran across an Aldous Huxley interview on YouTube. He was talking about how a person psychologically broken-down is in their most vulnerable state of suggestion and could therefore be more susceptible to having a new paradigm placed into their head.

Wow. Some inception shit.

So this got me thinking about drug addicts.

Stuff like:

How people fall so hard into AA/NA (good or bad).

Addicts that reintegrate back into society are doomed to some type of medical/psychological treatment for the rest of their lives.

The system is failing them. Rehabs and prisons are profiting from their agendas.

They are being given a false paradigm.

I stand at the bottom of this dark pit for a reason.

When my people hit the ground, the first face I want them to see is a friendly one.

Ya/ follow me?