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Pain Pills
I took too many pain pills
To see what it would do
I took too many pain pills
Now i'm thinking about you
I took too many pain pills
My body's shutting down
I took too many pain pills
I'm lying on the ground
I took too many pain pills
I'm wishing you were here
I took too many pain pills
My death is drawing near
I took too many pain pills
It's messing with my head
I took too many pain pills......
And I think i'm finnaly dead....
poem by Jessi lucas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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She looked for all pills
She looked for all pills
that she could get hold of,
in a hurry
arranged them
on the cabinet next to the bed.
Perplexed from crying
counted the pills
and half ironically
tried to arrange them in a kind of order
while she tried
to lay her life down.
She almost choked
from the first mouth full
and chewed the pills like Smarties
and it tasted almost vomit arousing.
There were Syndol, Tegratol, Prozak,
Sleep Eeze and who knows what
that she took hands full of
and drank down with brandy
to try and forget
the jamming pain
and how pathetic
she had become in her own eyes.
For long moments she stared
and looked at her own life,
at dreams that were smashed
to pieces
and like a record
that jams
she played messages on her cellular phone
over and over again,
but suddenly she became unstoppable nauseas
and vomited right over the bed
until she was empty
tasting gall
and cried out
and the stench
rose in her nose
and she took all the sheets
to the washing machine.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Overdose
As I overdose these pills,
Watch me die,
Bring me back to life if you can,
Pump these pills out of me,
Save me,
Can you save yourself,
Overdo on things,
Watch me as I overdose,
Watch as these doctors pump these pills out of me,
Go up on the hill,
Go scream your heart out,
I might hear you but I might be dead,
Poison leading through my body,
As I lay dying on floor,
Overdose these pills,
As I sleep,
Sleeping forever,
For know one knows what had happen to me,
The story of my life will end soon,
As soon as I overdose these pills,
Remember me when I am done,
Just one memory of me,
As I overdose on these pills that will end my life,
Thinking why should I end my life or how I should I get it,
I guess it natural for me to think these thoughts,
But someday soon I will overdose.
poem by Jennifer Rondeau
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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As you read these lines
As you read these lines
Another toothpick
Is chewed by my teeth
Something is wrong
With my tongue and
Teeth, how they compete
For recognition, the teeth
Claiming it chewed the
Words the tongue claiming
It approved the taste,
I am listening how they
Argued and quarreled,
And in the chaos I bit the
Toothpick chewed it
And spit it out,
How choppy have I
Become, how some
Of my parts have been
So disjoined, and how
Have I become
So disengaged, divided,
Like the tongue &
Teeth, in their bickering.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pills for Pain. Blood for hurt
How much can a person endure
Before realising pills make the pain stop
They numb all feeling and leave you cold
Cold and dead inside
Pills for pain blood for hurt
It trickles slowly out
The harder you push the faster the hurt escapes
How can a person hurt themselves
When all they do is hurt
When you hurt emotionally physically is easier
Pills for pain blood for hurt
To be nobody to no one
To be unloved and unknown
I am know by the pills
They know me
They make me a someone
Pills for pain blood for hurt
To have a heart broken
Shattered and screaming for less hurt
To feel so much love and the next day non
Pills for pain blood for hurt
Love leads to pain
Caring leads to hurt
Pills for pain
Blood for hurt
Nobody to save me
poem by Maxine Isherwood
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Vicodin
Pills, Pills, Pills
Pills I do adore
Pills, Pills, Pills
Yes, that's right-
Give me more!
'Look at her!
She's such a fien'd! '
'No, I'm not! '
-I try to scream
But, I know the truth
And, so do they
I'v got no chance
In them believing what I say
I'm addicted now
Completely hooked
It's not only my life
But, my sanity they took
All of my pain
All of my frustration
My pills took away
My fantasies of self mutilation
They make feel great
They make me complete
My neurosis they erase
My paranoia they delete
So I eat them for breakfast
For lunch, and for dinner
And, I no longer care whether
I'm a loser or a winner
I eat them all day
Shovel in one right after another
As I try to erase the pained faces
Of my Father and my Mother
And, it's like everybody watches
Yes, they just sit and they listen
As my eyes are tear streaked
So shiny they glisten
It is my pills that I love
It is my pills that I need
It is my pills that I live off of-
Live off of and feed
They make me feel happy
When I'm feeling sad
They make me feel good
When I'm feeling bad
They stop all the thoughts
They seem to flood through my brain
And, they make me feel normal
Even though we all know I'm not sane
Yummy.
I ate them again.
You know its funny?
They have become my only friend
All of this I explain
I scream and I shout
I just want my pills!
I don't care what anything else is about!
You can't have my pills
Give me them back
Give me ten more
Hell-give me a stack!
'Cause I'll die on these things
And, I'll do it in vain!
Because they feel so fu*kin' good
Painkillers really do kill all the pain.
© Copyright 2003 Nicole Settimi/Dark Lyric Poetry
Dark Lyric Poetry by The Dark Artist Nicole Settimi
poem by Nicole Settimi
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Bolted in and bolted out
To be humble is not to be slave
Though outwardly they may look same.
To be in the cell with doors bolted in
Is not being in it with doors bolted out.
28.02.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Purple Pills
Purple pills
cure all ills.
Keep them close
to mop up spills.
Fractured temple,
Cursed mind,
Not unstable,
Not unkind,
Not instructive.
Understood,
Purple pills
for greater good.
Take them first,
Take them last,
Take them always,
Take them fast.
Lesser evil,
Greater score.
Purple pills
will give you more.
Purple pills
cure all ills.
Take them quickly,
fill our tills.
Bolted Deep In It
Bolted deep in it.
With a tightened grip that fits...
To make sure no loose ends would dangle,
From a knit to slip!
Bolted deep in it.
With a tightened grip that fits.
And bolted deeper just to keep,
Mouths closed with silenced lips!
An upper hand is now commanding,
Everyone to take a stand.
And those who choose to bicker and moan,
Are left with their antics alone!
An upper hand is now commanding,
With no loop holes to excuse.
Or those denying they've been framed...
As all their gains go down the drain.
They've been bolted deep in it.
With a tightened grip that fits.
With no loop holes to excuse.
To accuse they've been abused.
Bolted deep in it.
With a tightened grip that fits...
To make sure no loose ends would dangle,
From a knit to slip!
And bolted deeper just to keep,
Mouths closed with silenced lips!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Door is the key
With the door bolted in, you feel secure;
When it is bolted out, you feel imprisoned.
With the door kept open, you feel free.
The third one ensures the freeness of mind.
02.01.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Conversations Angels And Demons (Part Four)
standing in the middle of a parking
lot, talking to an old man...
he said: 'i've never seen it
this bad... everybody on edge,
struggling, scared...
nobody knows what's going to
happen...
and hell, half of everybody you
meet, or more, taking them damn
pills...'
'yea, they come in here all the
time, middle of the day, whacked out...'
'pills and poverty go together... you
cant make it, cant stand the pressure,
they prescribe you the pills.'
'i think the medical profession got it
started, and it's mushroomed... into
some kind of evil disease.'
'i know a man, worked with him for twenty
years... him and his wife used to come over
and eat with us, play cards... they were
like family.
him and her got to having problems, he started
beating her... found out he was on the pills.'
'what happened to them? '
'well, he lost his job. they lost the house,
pretty much all they had. she left him. he tried
to kill her, but the law stopped him.
i tried to talk to him the other day. he told
me 'he couldnt live without her'...
i told him, 'no, he couldnt live without the
pills'...
tried to talk him into getting some help...
but he wouldnt listen...'
'yea, it's tough. you cant help somebody
that wont admit they need help... the woman
all right? '
'she's working, trying to start over... it's
hard for her...'
i shook his hand, and walked away. pills...
another weapon of ignorance!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Bubble gum
Mary had some bubble gum, bubble gum, bubble gum
Mary had some bubble gum
she chewed it long and slow.
Everywhere that Mary went, Mary went, Mary went
everywhere that Mary went
her gum was sure to blow.
She chewed the gum in school one day, school one day, school one day
She chewed the gum in school one day,
which was against the rule.
The teacher took her pack away, pack away, pack away
The teacher took her pack away
and chewed it after school.
poem by Lee Toballs
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Where's Mo?
Three meerkats stood on tippy-toes,
Eeeney, Meeney, Miney...
And yet, where's Mo? Nobody knows!
Where could that rascal be?
They thought that he was hiding near,
That's why they stretched so high,
In hopes the scamp would soon appear,
So they could ask him why...
But Mo was chewing chocolate fast
And wouldn't share one bite!
At such a thought, he felt aghast,
He chewed with all his might!
They'll all want some, there's not much left!
And so he chewed and chewed...
When it was gone, he felt bereft,
It was his favourite food!
His whiskers had to be licked clean
To hide the damning truth,
The awful fact that he was mean,
With chocolate as the proof!
When he returned, he burped aloud!
The meerkats gathered round...
But Mo was silent with head bowed...
And while he smiled, they frowned!
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Where's Mo? '.
poem by Denis Martindale
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I Used To Be Fat
I used to be fat,
Just like one spoilt brat,
As fat as a brat could be...
I could squash you flat,
Just as quick as that...
No-one stood too close to me...
Started a diet,
No need to fry it
And my weight began to fall!
One book! Just buy it!
You've got to try it!
And here's the number to call...
Just chew, chew, chew it!
Then loo, loo, loo it!
And soon, you'll be on the mend!
How do you do it?
Continue through it!
Persevere, my fat, fat friend!
I chewed like a cow,
Yes, I chewed and how
And I exercised each day...
Ta-da! Take a bow!
Just look at me now!
Admit it! I look O.K.!
poem by Denis Martindale
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A happy couple
A man and a woman,
Hitherto unknown, were made known
By a hand pollination,
More by convention than conviction.
The hungry wolf was on the prey
As the cage was bolted in.
The cage was bolted out too
When they yielded their calves.
Lured by the identity
They endured the differences
And preserved the unity.
They remained like that
For the need of companionship
And the want of dependence.
People brand them a loving couple.
04.03 2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Well, I think every now and again, some people deserve to get their butts chewed. Every now and again some people deserve a pat on the back. What I try and do is compliment folk who deserve a compliment, and chew folks out who deserve to be chewed out.
quote by Judge Mills Lane
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Vitamin C
How I love you, Vitamin C
bouncer of the body's toxicity
firming up the skin, we see
speeding neural signals over
synapses..
so that we more quickly see
*********
(It's better to get Vitamin C in
uncooked fruit than in pills, but
if one purchases pills know that
stearate, glycerine, whey, MSG,
and natural flavor are terms for
animal products and other toxins
added to pills.
No animal product has vitamin C and
it is destroyed by cooking heat.
Linus Pauling, only person to win Nobel
Prizes both in peace and biochemistry..
studied vitamin C.)
poem by O. Anna Niemus
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Why does marriage count?
Marriage gets better with time.
Live-in gets worse with time.
Marriage is the cell bolted outside.
Live-in is the cell bolted inside.
13.12.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Purple Pill Palarver
I take my little purple pills each morning and each night.
My Doctor says I need them and he thinks that he is right.
But I don't really think i need them I just wanted you to know
I take 'em, 'cause I like 'em and they really make me go...
They make me hop and skip and jump and do the things I please.
They make me walk on water and talk to birds and trees.
I love my little purple pills and what they do for me.
They fill me with the feeling of pure ecstasy...
Though I'm really not addicted I can stop 'em if I must
But why take drastic measures my purple pills I trust
My Doctor called me in last week and said 'You'll have to stop.'
But I jumped up on his shiny desk in one tremendous hop.
I said 'Listen you old geezer, and listen very close.
You write a script out here and now and double up me dose.
Try to think about the suffering, try to think about the pain,
When my fingers wrap around ya' throat and strangle off your brain.'
I love my little purple pills and what they do for me.
They keep me calm and regular as you can plainly see.
If my Doctors say they're needed then who am I to doubt them.
But I'm really not addicted I just can't seem to live without 'em.
poem by Bridgid Patrick
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What's My Name Again
Heads a mess, can't think straight,
mental status is up for debate.
Constant state of delusion,
eyes only see optical illusion.
Inner voices cloud the mind,
can't deal with the daily grind.
Popping pills helps to think,
otherwise would be driven to drink.
Pills in the morning, pills in the night,
without warning, could start a fight.
One minute Jekyll, one minute Hyde,
split personality standing side by side.
Sometimes country, sometimes rock,
sometimes pussy, sometimes cock.
Sometimes naughty, sometimes nice,
sometimes fire, sometimes ice.
Pills must not be working,
more personalities are slowly lurking.
Every day is something new,
remembering the days of just a few.
Not alone in this padded cell,
its very obvious I'm not well.
Sometimes Mike, sometimes Dave,
both of them to young to shave.
Sometimes John, sometimes Frank,
together their plotting to rob a bank.
Sometimes Mary, sometimes Beth,
Sam shoots heroin, Amy smokes meth.
What's my name again?
Maybe Gary, maybe Glen,
can't remember way back when.
poem by Allen Wilbert
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