L. B. Mek

Blue Pills, Stolen Dreams


It’s blue pills, blue pills, blue pills

to keep away reality’s tears

awaiting, in all those stolen dreams.


Meat, on fleshly lust

sandwiched, like Velcro disgust

peeled back, in mirror-less showers

no toothpaste for our selfish life choices

of bleeding-gum, trumpeting Blues regrets.


Just young, having fun - no crime, they shriek proud

losing tethers to those tattered ethical seatbelts, of self

in absurdity mirages: titled, self-portrait’s collages.


It’s everything greed and festering gan$green

popularised, with zealotry

of those futureless, nihilistic dogmatics

with dollar store of belt buckle, self-worth

dropping pants at every passing ~ sway.


Acting like restraint, is a forgotten myth

and respect, a sinister - plot twist

of satyriasis warped: vivacity objectification.


As all-things fake, argued - into distorted lies

denouncing, societies pill-mill shopping malls

offering discount rates

for painkillers and Viagra, pop-up stall religions

as faddish copping methods: of cyclical abyss.


Faultless pharmaceuticals with inked assertions

dripping blood; and tax hungry governments, acquiring 

holly water redemption, on wholesome Sundays.


So, they’re free to perverse a generation 

in their working week. Stingy too

gotta get that concentrated Blue, to last

deep - into next morning’s: blue flames of scarlet hue

and greet, that dawning furnace of consequence.


Blue skies, strain to stay merciful

in all, but that final surge of decimation:

hurricane sighs, typhoon tears - streaking 

Nature’s fury, through every season.

Now, comes the real hypocrisy, as think-tanks

announce addiction and divorce rates, aside

STD stat lines, with their government fabricated

aesthetic level, deep-dive’s.



What of Chemistry?

What of Sensuality?

What of Intimacy?

What of Integrity?

What of Romance?

What of Trust?

and for mercy’s: sake

What, of Love!


What, are we teaching?

What legacy do we expect to bequeath?

What - oh what, must happen for us to realise

all that meaningless f’cking, serves only to repress

our potential for creating, something beautiful

that can last more than a night.  

When there’s only a letter of difference, to save us

from fashion trends influence of friend, or fiend…


Why not take it easy and enjoy life, of course we Must

but while embracing: that potential: in All, of life!

Why hide behind short term, self-gratification

in sinister seconds of ejaculation’s, wilful ignorance

to birth stillborn hours of wasteful self-indulgence; when

dog paddling our self-thwarting, debased mindset’s

yields naught, but that mass eruption of self-hate

and its pitiful finale of all-things: pathetically sans.


Still, for some - at least 

it’s not too late, to choose freely

insuring we imbue our choices, with severity

allow questioned logic to steer us away

from immoral fashion’s, conveyor belt - wastefulness 

of this, our one and only opportunity - to savour

those hard earned, diversely entheogenic-fruits

of majestic existence’s: experience platter of life.



© L. B. Mek

July 2021



  • aDarkerMind

    when i can find the words to praise such a write...I will;
    until then.

    • L. B. Mek

      one of those scribbles, singed
      by that molten ink of frustration,
      appreciate you reading with an open mind, dear Poet
      and your kind words/gesture of support/encouragement
      more than you can imagine, thank you!

    • Teddy.15

      Dear Mek, a true masterpiece my friend. A standing ovation from me 🤗

      • L. B. Mek

        lol, thank you..
        knowing what you were going through
        and the much more important concerns
        you were dealing with, while writing your comment
        makes my admiration for your generosity and kindness
        rise, even more
        how undeservedly lucky I am, to call you a friend..

      • Marie

        Wow! What an epic write in this amazing poem, dear poet. The things we do when we are young which seem fun at the time, return later as ghosts to haunt us. We have to acknowledge those ghosts, that is the secret to killing them and letting them go rest in their graves, so we can move on and away from them. Those joys of youth are short lived, they have no place in our lives as we move on in years, but they certainly are an experience good/bad at the time. I don't believe any experience we have in life is time wasted. Every experience is an event which we can learn from, it makes us wiser so we don't repeat the event again, so really, we learn a lot. We have free will, so the choices we make are our choices regardless and only we, ourselves are responsible for them and their results. Hhhhhmmmm!!!! Extremely thought provoking, so much to think about in this superbly penned poem, dear poet. The words have come from very deep within you, they are meant to heal, not just you, dear poet, but everybody who reads too. A privilege to read! I, thank you for sharing! Superb inking, wondrous write... Bless you always, dear poet...

        • L. B. Mek

          I'm sorry, if I was overtly judgemental in my wording
          admittedly, I unloaded a lot of burgeoning concerns
          in this overtly opinionated rant of a scribble,
          thank you for being open minded enough
          to pick out and highlight, its redeeming elements

          • Marie

            Most welcome, always, dear L. B...

          • spilleronsheet

            A plethora of emotions
            That hold
            The beautiful insights
            That join together
            Giving us the guiding lines
            It ends with a charming smile
            Whatever our emotions be
            They are priceless
            Experiences are the best teachers

            • L. B. Mek

              indeed, but we can't help
              trying to warn people, from experiencing
              the more unfavourable aspects
              in our life choices..
              thank you for your insightful comments

              • spilleronsheet

                I could be aware of the thorns
                When I touched the rose
                The beauty stored the thorn
                How careless I am
                to be unknown

              • Neville

                It probably has not quite all, already been said, but I have no doubt, it wont be long, before it has ...

                Therefore and under such circumstances, I shall respectfully allow all those who came both before me and those who will no doubt follow, serve as my mouthpiece ................. Neville

                • L. B. Mek

                  you have no idea, how humbling it always is
                  just to see your name in my comments, dear Poet
                  with the utmost sincerity, I thank you!

                • PrEm Ji

                  Blue skies, strain to stay merciful

                  in all, but that final surge of decimation:

                  hurricane sighs, typhoon tears - streaking

                  Nature’s fury, through every season.

                  We are facing the worst rainfalls in Kerala from 2018 onward... We must learn to live in tandem with nature... Laotzu told it long back...


                  • L. B. Mek

                    indeed, our accumulation of selfish, bad choices and decisions
                    has meant we now face the wrath of Nature, regularly
                    I find it exceptionally insightful of you to make the connection
                    between my feeble words and Laozi's wisdom
                    '“He who controls others may be powerful, but
                    he who has mastered himself is mightier still.”
                    (this quote from Taoism's guiding father
                    best summarises what I was trying to convey
                    not only in this write
                    but in my previous one, titled 'If choice remains...'),
                    self-restraint, and self-governance
                    are so murky and frustratingly complicated
                    due to how much, our choices are intertwined,
                    while in contrast, how much
                    our reactions and choices - differ, from moment
                    to incident and from person to person...
                    still, we must try!
                    (thank you, wise Poet
                    for contributing such a meaningful comment)

                  • Meg

                    This is beyond what writing is. A true pleasure to read, thank you

                    • L. B. Mek

                      I'm so glad you could connect to this write
                      and I humbly thank you, for your generous
                      words of encouragement

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