Posts Tagged ‘up’

Trio

Posted: October 13, 2017 in poetry
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

iggy

The holy trio of Iggy, Bowie and Reed

Now just Iggy

But Iggy just keeps on going

Causing trouble in a spectacular manner

Just imagine Iggy at the Big Day Out

Iggy swings the microphone around his head

Then it hits him the face

Then he says

‘Let’s fuck this shit up’

And starts pulling down the curtains around the stage

So let us fuck shit up

Just like Iggy

Every day

As everything is fucked anyway

Let us try to fuck it further and deeper

 

 

methy

If I had a methy girlfriend

Crazy motherfuckers would always be coming over trying to recover drug debts

And we’d be up all night fucking while she was wizzing off her head

If I had a methy girlfriend

She’d keep the place really clean and I could act like a pig

But she might get abscesses from shooting up to much and end up in hospital

If I had a methy girlfriend

I’d encourage her to smoke it

Or to give it up

But she’d probably just run off with her drug dealer

Or start hocking her ass

And leave me all alone in a clean house

 

stonedcharlie

Overcome, she lowers her tear-soaked eyes
Her painful soul is in shadows
Her hooligan heart hurts as if wounded physically
‘You’re always fucked up on drugs’ she says
‘I don’t know who you are anymore’ she says
‘I’m me. Just chemically enhanced’
He replies with a grin
‘Well I’ve had enough of it’ she says
‘You’re never really there,
You’re always out of your head.
I don’t want to see you anymore.’
His words stumble like a creek over rocks
‘But I love you’ he says
‘I don’t love you’ she replies
‘You’re just another stoner freak’
An image full of feeling flashes on his mental screen of her naked and curled up against his body.
The swell of her buttocks against his loins
Gone all gone
He is day-dreaming of that feeling of safeness and synergy, not sex
She glares then turns on her heel and exits the room slamming the door behind her
A tear runs down his cheek.
But he can’t show her what he feels
He can’t show himself what he feels
So he hides his love away
And gets stoned

heroinspoon

Jack Mack loves his smack
Dream juice is his poison
Sinks into his wasted splendour
Like a warm inviting bath of angels’ tears
Seven times a day
Needle and spoon are his intimate friends
He’s fucked up every vein in his arms
And every one in his legs
He’d even fucked up the one in his cock
So he shoots up in the jugular vein in his neck
His blood is corrupted by Hepatitis C and his liver slowly rots
And every day is catalyzed by the alchemy of need
To take a break from hanging out, he sometimes smokes some weed
And benzos, codeine cough mixture, anything just to take the edge off pain
Of hanging out for opiates- nothing else matters
His habit is huge- a monk in the order of our Lady Perpetual Decadence
Track marks crucify him on every single vein
He’ll shoot up anything called dope then he’ll shoot again
His whole personality reduced to machinery to score
So he’ll keep on shooting skag, always wanting more.