Submissions by rainbow_sunshine (Wendy)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
My goal: be worthy of the attentive ear and open mind
DRUGS POEM
Published
5th Apr 2011 8:53pm
5th Apr 2011 8:53pm
Choosing
A serious contemplation
of temptation
and obsession
an unnatural raw aggression
as I relapse on my actions
and decide
Is this a blessing
or a curse?
am I in last?
or is this first?
and all that's come to pass
before my eyes
is this ever raging battle
to stay sober
or get high.
of temptation
and obsession
an unnatural raw aggression
as I relapse on my actions
and decide
Is this a blessing
or a curse?
am I in last?
or is this first?
and all that's come to pass
before my eyes
is this ever raging battle
to stay sober
or get high.
1022 reads
3 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
1st Apr 2011 4:32am
1st Apr 2011 4:32am
Mind Bloom
On mushrooms your mind wanders
recklessly in synch
with the wavering of the room
reality clarity intuition motion and emotion
all blend together seamlessly
and from the shimmering edge
of my hallucination
I sense a rarity of moment
in which everything is clear
recklessly in synch
with the wavering of the room
reality clarity intuition motion and emotion
all blend together seamlessly
and from the shimmering edge
of my hallucination
I sense a rarity of moment
in which everything is clear
771 reads
3 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
31st Mar 2011 5:40pm
31st Mar 2011 5:40pm
Speeding
Our atmosphere is different here
We see in different ways
It's turbulence, it's brilliance
And I just can't stay away
The ecstasy is calling me
There's water on the table
I resist it for a moment
Just to see if I am able
The electric vibes start pulsing
In my brain and in my feet
I crave an empty dance floor
Where the feeling can't be beat
Our atmosphere is different here
the nights blend into days
The chemicals envelop us
we see in different ways
We see in different ways
It's turbulence, it's brilliance
And I just can't stay away
The ecstasy is calling me
There's water on the table
I resist it for a moment
Just to see if I am able
The electric vibes start pulsing
In my brain and in my feet
I crave an empty dance floor
Where the feeling can't be beat
Our atmosphere is different here
the nights blend into days
The chemicals envelop us
we see in different ways
865 reads
1 Comment
DRUGS POEM
Published
30th Mar 2011 6:39pm
30th Mar 2011 6:39pm
The Colour Green
Green, to me
is a million little sniffs of scent
hidden behind the lips of ziploc bags
and often followed by eyes rolled back
smiles of satisfaction
and a quick second whiff
for good measure.
Green, to me
is a craving for a tingling
inexistence, a taste my tongue will
savour
as the smoke slips past
and Green ignites
my taste buds.
is a million little sniffs of scent
hidden behind the lips of ziploc bags
and often followed by eyes rolled back
smiles of satisfaction
and a quick second whiff
for good measure.
Green, to me
is a craving for a tingling
inexistence, a taste my tongue will
savour
as the smoke slips past
and Green ignites
my taste buds.
845 reads
5 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
30th Mar 2011 5:36pm
30th Mar 2011 5:36pm
The Habit
When we speak of it,
do we know what we are saying?
Be it a pleasure cruise
or the long dank corridor
to hell
childish musings
and teenage invinciblity
brought us
to try.
We grew up
too fast,
simply trying all the while
to kill the pain
to end the fury
and perhaps
have a little fun
along the way,
but we always knew
in the back of blacked out
minds
this habit
could become a lifestyle.
do we know what we are saying?
Be it a pleasure cruise
or the long dank corridor
to hell
childish musings
and teenage invinciblity
brought us
to try.
We grew up
too fast,
simply trying all the while
to kill the pain
to end the fury
and perhaps
have a little fun
along the way,
but we always knew
in the back of blacked out
minds
this habit
could become a lifestyle.
1644 reads
1 Comment
LOVE POEM
Published
28th Mar 2011 5:57am
28th Mar 2011 5:57am
no fairytale ending
there is
only
stony silence
between us
and a much blacker plague
than the one in my lungs
in his eyes
he fed his vigilant attention
and affections
to fantasy and fiction
and I knew
I could not fuel
this storm cloud of deception
any longer
and so I cried
and I cried
and I cried
and when I...
only
stony silence
between us
and a much blacker plague
than the one in my lungs
in his eyes
he fed his vigilant attention
and affections
to fantasy and fiction
and I knew
I could not fuel
this storm cloud of deception
any longer
and so I cried
and I cried
and I cried
and when I...
818 reads
1 Comment
SELF POEM
Published
23rd Mar 2011 7:34pm
23rd Mar 2011 7:34pm
Shadows come from light
I have tattoos
on the insides
of my fingers
I have my ears
stretched enough
to fit straws
I have a union jack
shaved into
my Mohawk
but I still love
my hippy skirts
and acid dresses
I am a weird combination
of sentimental hardcore
fluff
on the insides
of my fingers
I have my ears
stretched enough
to fit straws
I have a union jack
shaved into
my Mohawk
but I still love
my hippy skirts
and acid dresses
I am a weird combination
of sentimental hardcore
fluff
755 reads
0 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
23rd Mar 2011 6:42pm
23rd Mar 2011 6:42pm
90's
What defines a nineties child?
For me
it was Saturday morning cartoons
actually worth waking up for
the rising popularity
of enviromemtal issues
video games
George Bush parodies
green day
and
weed
the nineties
were good to me
For me
it was Saturday morning cartoons
actually worth waking up for
the rising popularity
of enviromemtal issues
video games
George Bush parodies
green day
and
weed
the nineties
were good to me
1110 reads
1 Comment
DRUGS POEM
Published
23rd Mar 2011 3:45am
23rd Mar 2011 3:45am
Weed made us sisters and brothers
I love it
when the boys notice
I take
bigger tokes
than them
I love it
when the buds are
leafy green and
succulent
I love it
when the bong cloud
covers the room
and dulls our
senses
I love it
when the bounty
of life is
apparent
potheads you say?
perhaps-
but happy ones at that
when the boys notice
I take
bigger tokes
than them
I love it
when the buds are
leafy green and
succulent
I love it
when the bong cloud
covers the room
and dulls our
senses
I love it
when the bounty
of life is
apparent
potheads you say?
perhaps-
but happy ones at that
866 reads
1 Comment
DRUGS POEM
Published
22nd Mar 2011 7:00pm
22nd Mar 2011 7:00pm
Alphabet soup (and other things I eat)
Acid
Booze
Cocaine
DMT
Ecstasy
Fungus
GHB
Hash
Injections
Jello shots
Ketamin
LSD
MDMA
Nitris
Oxycotin
Perks
Questionable substances
Robitussin
Salvia
Tabs
Uppers
Vials of oil
Weed
XTC
Yachts
Zoomers
Booze
Cocaine
DMT
Ecstasy
Fungus
GHB
Hash
Injections
Jello shots
Ketamin
LSD
MDMA
Nitris
Oxycotin
Perks
Questionable substances
Robitussin
Salvia
Tabs
Uppers
Vials of oil
Weed
XTC
Yachts
Zoomers
1148 reads
8 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
22nd Mar 2011 6:33pm
22nd Mar 2011 6:33pm
The last cigarette in the pack
Would you like to share
my last cigarette?
It's always been
my favorite one.
The flame eagerly licking
it's bottom
gets us going,
and as the invasion of my lungs
begins
I take is slow.
Utterly indulging
this ten minute break
from the world,
I choose to use it
to take a minute or two
off my life
in exhange for the feeling
of sublime satisfaction-
the last
long cool drag
from the last cigarette
in the pack.
my last cigarette?
It's always been
my favorite one.
The flame eagerly licking
it's bottom
gets us going,
and as the invasion of my lungs
begins
I take is slow.
Utterly indulging
this ten minute break
from the world,
I choose to use it
to take a minute or two
off my life
in exhange for the feeling
of sublime satisfaction-
the last
long cool drag
from the last cigarette
in the pack.
2544 reads
4 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
21st Mar 2011 5:42pm
21st Mar 2011 5:42pm
The morning after a party
We all wake up
at eleven a.m.
and immediately count
the roaches,
happily finding
we blazed enough
last night
to make leftovers last us
this morning.
A second generation joint
before breakfast
and nothing better
than that
and a cigarette
to cure
the hangover
at eleven a.m.
and immediately count
the roaches,
happily finding
we blazed enough
last night
to make leftovers last us
this morning.
A second generation joint
before breakfast
and nothing better
than that
and a cigarette
to cure
the hangover
1009 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by rainbow_sunshine (Wendy)
