Figured that I would use this forum as a platform to help people who are struggling and for getting the word out about my poetry. I started doing poetry while I was in prison last year; and I am relatively new to it, so please be gentle. All the poems that I will be sharing are originals, written by me for a book of addiction poetry that I am writing called, “Amphetamine Psychosis: Poems And Poetry About The Struggles Of Addiction And The Random Thoughts And Ramblings Of The Addict Who Wrote Them”. Feel free to share them amongst other addicts, all I ask is the courtesy of being credited when shared. I can also be found on YouTube doing poetry readings @ The Addicted Poet and have both a discord server for poetry discussion ( https:/discord.gg/A5wJZ6E )and this platform as well.
I date all of my poetry when the final draft is completed, so I will include dates with the poems that I share here. As a side note, only one poem appears in the book that I am working on out of chronological order, and that is the opening poem which I am going to include with this first post. I hope you enjoy reading these as much as I enjoy sharing them.
Opening Poem 29 Oct 2019
Sobriety, kicked off in me; abrand new addiction…
To write poetry, and tell stories, with art that is non-fiction…
If you take the time, and are of the mind to read everything in this book;
I’ll bet you, that it all rings true, so go on take a look…
As you read, I’m sure you’ll see, my soul laid out before you…
It’s my hope, this book helps you cope and not once does it bore you…
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This is the first poem I ever wrote. I wrote it in jail, as I think you will be able to see.
“Escape From Hell, With a Cell” 3 Oct 2019
I awaken to confusion,
I’ve no memories of sleeping here.
These harsh white lights, and concrete walls,
Are inching closer, drawing near.
I rub my eyes to right myself,
The dream wears off, the Truth sets in.
In prison now I fimd myself,
Incarcerated for my Sin.
My only crime was chasing Death;
My only victim, my own health.
They locked me up to punish me,
Slammed the door closed, and turned the key.
In doing so they set me Free,
By bringing me, sobriety.
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Regarding my alcoholic father…
“Daddy’s little girl turned daddy doesn’t know you. Wasted away at the bottom of a bottle. Greedy grim reaper has you in his grip. Please take my hand, not another sip.”
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I like the implied reference to another slip ending in death. Got use of metaphor. Keep at it. I find poetry a very freeing and rewarding outlet for my feelings.
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Here’s another early poem.
“Dreaming Of Addiction” 06 Oct 2019
Long dark nights, with lucid dreams,
No Freedom there, or so it seems.
The Darkness seems to covet me;
No future plans to set me Free.
Death and Drug Use, waters deep;
Addiction plagues me in my sleep.
Dreams of Drug Use, dreams of loss,
Nightmares where, the Dopes the boss…
In suffering, I’m not alone.
The Cross to bear, not just my own.
Too many people, just like me,
Are fighting for Recovery.
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Something short I never had the guts to send to a former partner
You know that I love you, I always have
When you first told me you would change I believed you
I would wait patiently for you
Waiting for you to find God
Waiting for you to remember that you had me
But you don’t anymore
I couldn’t wait for a man with empty promises anymore
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Trigger warning !
Creepy Crawlies
The creepy crawlies just wont leave me alone
They come up from under my bed when yu tuck my hair behind my ear
They start working their way up my body when you caress my skin
They dig their way into my pores when you lay up against me
They collapse my lungs when you press your lips against mine
They never go away
And I don’t know if I want them to
They only go away when I drown them in alcohol
So much that I cant see straight
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“The Spark” 06 Oct 2019
The Will to chamge, it lives in me…
Yearning loudly, to be set free.
Ignite the Spark, and fan the flame.
My Darkness deep; myself to blame.
This flame is young, and tending needs;
Watch it closely, make sure it feeds.
It feeds on Love, and understanding;
Remain patient, and undemanding.
From Spark to ember, when tended right
A fire becomes an inferno, burning bright.
Though far from finished, I may be;
Now in Darkness, I’ve light to see.
Who would have thought, a Spark could be,
The roaring blaze, that sets me Free.
1 Like