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  • The 12 Steps
  • Calendar
  • The Poetry of Addiction

THE POETRY OF ADDICTION

Believe

  

Do you believe in the lies that we painted on these plain white walls?

Hand in hand together, like children, drawing scrawls?

When our mothers came too late we picked up the pieces of our past.

We never thought the echoes of our laughter would be our last.

When we see the painted walls at which the older we became.

The noise became too much.

The pain became a game.

The lies upon these walls they are painted on with red.

The scrawls symbolize the tears.

The blood the fears we bred.

Welcome to this homely place where nothing van escape.

It’s you and me forever.

In this living masquerade. 

Do you believe in lies that are painted on these walls.

Painted on as children.

We grew up now it falls.

The older that we get the more it fades away.

The longer I’m awake.

The more I feel astray.

Believe in what we must.

That I may see.

That all these scars will heal.

Bout our wounds were meant to bleed.

Believe.


By 'Soul to Keep'

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THE POETRY OF ADDICTION

Beware the Ides of March

  

The origin of every fortune is a crime.
The ides of March are a dangerous time.

The ideas of March originate in wind.
Madness may spring from a mind that hasn’t sinned.

The guides of March have scary stories to tell.
The family money came from a corpse and an oil well.

The editors of March fly to the moon and bring back April.
The original sinner has learned to shave and say “I will.”

You can trace each legacy back to the day
when the ides of March exposed the ego’s feet of clay.

The dice of March roll on the green felt tabletop.
The suicides of March drive past the octagonal sign: Stop!

On the dais of March sit the deceased father and mother.
Every happy family is different from every other.


David Lehman, 

The Atlantic. March 2011

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The poetry of addiction

Metamorphosis: Someday this pain will be useful to you

  

To my Achilles Heel


One river leads to heaven or hell,
meandering like a path into Wonderworld
Swearing upon a smile worth dying for,
we dived head first into the river Styx with hearts like a lion's
Our fears washed away
 

Temerarious …
 

You and me against the world
Invincible
Our aegis spread his arms to shield us from the wars raging above
Thunder bolts roared and howled,
but we were bulletproof,
safely tucked away in the far end of the galaxy
 

Oblivious …
 

A flaw in my armor
Pierced by one fatal blow,
my corpse cried its last tear into the Styx
The voice of Cassandra ringed in my ears
Gone with my breath was my soul
 

You are my Achilles heel.



Steph Cheng, 2018

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the poetry of addiction

International Earth Hour - from darkness comes light

It's better when the lights are off,
you shine brighter like the stars.
I feel you nearer, I see you clearer,
when we close our eyes in the dark.
to breathe in the scent of you and the countryside,
to leave our fears in the metropolis and city lights,
makes me love you and nature in its simplest form,
from it you came, that I could have sworn. 


Lunar, March 2016

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THE POETRY OF ADDICTION

Addiction Is Addiction Is Addiction Is Addiction

  

Addiction is addiction is addiction is addiction
3 parts fantasy and 3 parts fiction
Something which should be served a notice of eviction
Because all that it is, is a freeloading friction
It's a pariah parasitical
A conning, conniving disease of level critical
That turns people into puppets pitiful
No longer complete individuals


  

Alessandra Liverani, 2005

Sydney Australia

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THE POETRY OF ADDICTION

An Ode to An Addict from The Drug

  

I am coming to get you, yes I am,
and I will get you however I can,
burning like lava through your eager viens.
I am free to damage you, I have no reigns. 

I will take you to heaven for a 2 minute trip,
then after that my darkness shall let rip,
I will leave you with clouded eyes,
and shaking hands,
all plans of the future will be put on hold,
there you will sit alone and cold.
you will feel so sick you cannot think,
you will neglect yourself and begin to stink,
I will rob you of all your friends,
you will lose interest in all todays trends,
I will be on your mind every second of the day,
your life will lose direction,
and become a tragic timeless play,
and knowing all this you still come to me,
to receive the kiss of short term bliss.
it’s ironic to say the least,
that to find a little escape,
you have to release the beast,
I do not pity you,
I survive on people like you.


Not Long Left, 2005

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The poetry of ADDICTION

The Two Roads

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.


Robert Frost

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THE POETRY OF ADDICTION

Missing I am, the leaves Your Light did shine

Missing I am, the leaves

As they change to match the lovely color of your hair

Missing I am, your arm around me as we walk through the crisp fall air 

Missing the trees, evergreen your favorite

And missing the green color in your eyes

Missing the lips that when they took me

I couldn’t even kiss goodbye

In me your light did shine with me even in my darkest times

Your encouraging words echoed in my mind

And flowed right through this hand of mine 


Kelsey Youst, 2020

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THE POETRY OF ADDICTION

Icy Hell

Looking forward with fear I stare.
I face the mirror to see there.
I've lost my family, my friends are few.
You've controlled my life but now I'm through.
I'm finally strong enough to fight.
By myself I'll make this right.
I've lived in Hell with my demon.
I've done your deeds a life of scheming.
All I've loved I've lost no hope.
All that's left is you and dope.
Seeing life smoked through a glass.
To erase the memories from my past.
With every hit I kept you strong.
I've stayed weak for far too long.
I'm taking back all you stole.
My life, my love, my world, my soul.
Today's the day I leave this jail.
So take your demon and go to Hell.    


S. Raine 2008

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the poetry of addiction

To try to speak, and miss the way

 To try to speak, and miss the way
And ask it of the Tears,
Is Gratitude’s sweet poverty,
The Tatters that he wears—

A better Coat if he possessed
Would help him to conceal,
Not subjugate, the Mutineer
Whose title is “the Soul.” 


Emily Dickinson, 1830-1886

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THE POETRY OF ADDICTION

brick by brick

 

Brick by brick

I built this wall

My wall of protection 

Is what it was called

Safe and guarded

No one could get inside

Too afraid and unsure

Behind my wall I did hide

But this sense of loneliness 

Became so strong overtime

So brick by brick 

I started to climb

To escape this prison

I myself created

Where I wasn’t protected

Instead isolated

Behind my wall

I couldn’t possible live

And through this wall

None of myself could I possibly give

So now it is life

That I choose to pick 

I will tear down this wall

Brick by brick.


Kelsey Yost, October 2010

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the poetry of addiction

That Bottle's shame

 

I'm watching that bottle in shame

Crouched over in physical pain

I want it to eradicate what I feel

I swallow as much as I can

And suddenly all is ok

Its okay you two fell out of love

and that you broke my heart at a tender age

its okay if you leave and we go our separate ways

Because I'm numb to whatever comes next

Some may say I am dancing with the devil

And so I am; but I will never fall in love

I know his evil ways

I've been down that lonely path

I'm not as naive as you may think

I only let you believe I am weak

This is my game to hide my heart from you

So you can't see all the talent I possess

I can walk away just as fast as I came

And you'll be wishing I never left

You'll be calling out my name

Crouched over in emotional pain

And ill be laughing to myself thinking

Now who wants that bottles shame?


Kim Haslam, 2009

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the poetry of addiction

Life Long Fellowship

 So many things shape what we become
Minute to large influences add up to one sum
Many individuals have touched our paths
From the preachers who preached to our folks who gave baths
And those parents must have shown us a lesson or two
And our teachers often taught us the false and the true
Even neighbors who helped with a requisite loan
Or relatives we'd only met on the phone
Without any we'd be somehow different today
If still present we're thankful for the roles that they play
But it's hard to believe you've touched someone the same
They may not have known you or even your name
But believe that we're significant in this brief life
We help one another through lessons and strife
There's hope and there's friendship with others who care
We're never alone in these lives that we share
So let fellowship grow among women and men
And be blessed with gladness again and again.


Derrick J. Shoemaker, 2007

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the poetry of addiction

invictus

 Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul. 


William Ernest Henley, 1875

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the poetry of ADDICTION

a perfect world does not EXIST

 There was this perfect world

Inside my mind

Where it was okay 

To sometimes run and hide,

To give up hope

I did refuse

On my ability to moderately use

To control myself

And not abuse

So my true self

I would not lose

But the truth in this

I did find

That this paradise 

Inside my mind 

Turned out to be 

The perfect lie.


Kelsey Yost, 2020

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