"lozenge" poems
Paint the veil so the pale might wear off
Let this rhyme be the lozenge to your cough
Scoff and listen as words glisten shiny and new
Heavenly time in a rhyme can clear the blues
Make them red in your head and fuel the fire
Stand with your heart in your hand, push the desire
Mouths for hire and the perspiration comes down
As the words become verbs to pick you off the ground
Lost and found as that old becomes bigger better
The rhyme's cold like winter day, so wear a sweater
Oct 21, 2013
Oct 21, 2013 at 10:01 AM UTC
I hovered down my cursor
Towards the Facebook icon
My senses were in fervor
For one notification.
I clicked the drop down button
That was drenched in crimson red
My mind had an implosion
As I decoded what it said.
Someone sent a game request
To me when time was lush
My day embarks another quest
In the game of candy crush.
A ticket, life, or power-up
Could be the thing I need
To clear the way and reach the top
And in the ranks I'll lead.
A move that swaps a jelly bean
Perhaps could form an "L"
A wrapper bomb then could be seen
Explosion it would spell.
Maybe an orange lozenge
Could pile in lines of four
A striped bomb could come in revenge
And wipe out lanes for score.
A bunch of yellow lemon drops
I'll surely link to five
In time a color bomb would pop
And clear the candy hive.
Heaps of lollipop heads in blue
And purple cluster sweets
Could get swept out in a row or two
By coco wheels or jelly fish.
How lovely it would be to see
A medley of combination
Bombs and power-ups in spree
To a rainbow candy motion.
Two wrapper bombs would be enough
To blast two groupings clean
Two striped ones make a checker stuff
Where blocks have ever been.
A wrapper and a color bomb
Blast off a certain hue
A color bomb and a stripe in clump
Stripe out some colors too.
Perhaps of all the tricks I've seen
The one that serves me great
A duo of color bombs would mean
The end of all the slate.
The sun may rise, the moon may set
I'll be there to sit and play
A sweet treat is all I need to get
And I'll complete my day.
Jun 12, 2013
Jun 12, 2013 at 9:09 AM UTC
Pharmacist with the funny face
I’m not sure how the lines were etched
and set in place across a severe brow
like storms had raged and winters chill
had set the frozen expression
into an acid dipped contour.
Each time I went with a prescription
to collect remedies for a cough and cold
a limp here
a sore there
some racing bp charts
an erring heart muscle.
His face remained stoic.
His face alone would frighten me
as pale as death he looked at me
over the rimmed glasses
and just that one second longer
than necessary.
My guilt soared. I felt like an addict
come into store to fetch
a high kick of something
suspicion hidden under the GPs scrawl.
I dared to look back
flushing red at his store.
It became a battle of the blush.
Twice I won
And never went back for a whole six months
Is he the guy that protects our streets
from the throaty lozenge
that may contain crack *******
hidden in its entrails? I dont know
but I always felt he had a secret sleeve
from where he pulled out those potions!
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 2 months ago
Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 5:21 PM UTC
******* on the lozenge of illogical orbit, we whirl like intergalactic pinwheels.
Metamorphosed , we are Martians—caring not for mortal notions.
Celestial beings with curt dispositions,
Making men the cynics that they are.
For that which exists is doomed to be doubted.
So it seems our duet is the demise of devout humanity, my dear.
Us, in artless cotton blankets,
Inhaling the infectious essence of
Eros.
Dec 25, 2011
Dec 25, 2011 at 1:13 PM UTC
Opulent expatriate of mine vision's,
I delayed for thee on a timeclock not known to terrestrial creature's...
I hath seen thy feature's
Whence I was perched upon the lozenge conduit,
Henceforth knowing it was thee,
Mine other half....
Mine anodyne of high godly class.....
Mine spirit without thee is halfed,
Like a split down mine center.....
For thou hath entered me
Through the eye's
And into mine conscience!!!!
For thou feeleth as if thyself hath no worth,
But I remembered thee at ourn spiritual birth
From whence we were covered in blankets!!!
Warmed by eachother's skin...
Jul 2, 2015
Jul 2, 2015 at 6:30 PM UTC
The old man tempts smoke down
The throat of green beer bottles
From the night before.
Cigarette a tool of precision,
Smoke falls like a lozenge
Until the bottom is occluded; endless.
When viewing art he takes to the moor,
Emergent properties of flocking birds,
Overhead patterns he can understand
Without knowing what it means.
Creation is ongoing, cumulative.
Bone upon bone, centuries of death
To build a monument for living.
The old man paints fissures on the foundations
That cultivate famous skylines,
Smoked windows interrupt sunlight;
No one is looking out for him.
The flocking birds circle the air;
Static black on the page - angry, restless.
When making art he suspends disbelief,
Essence of life locked in time,
No beauty in the fault-lines of a face
If no one has seen it smile.
Empires are falling, unknowing submission-
Tower of Babel, Interstate Highway;
All roads lead to terminal erosion.
The old man bites the skin
Around his weathered fingernails,
Fear is his mantra.
Cigarette a tool for soothing,
Smoke falls like a lozenge,
His hunger is permanent; endless.
Dec 13, 2015
Dec 13, 2015 at 10:25 AM UTC
He is a hurricane in my throat. A burning in my chest. A sickness in my stomach.
You are the lozenge that soothes my torn up throat, the aloe vera for my singed heart, the calm my nervous belly.
You are cool waves that sway me back to safety after his harsh waves of words have carried me so far out.
You teach me how to sing again without being afraid of my own voice.
You do this by showing me that you are afraid of your own as well,
but you still sing above everyone else.
And for that, I love you.
Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 12:55 AM UTC
I sit down in tweak town
To jot down a new noun,
A nice verb, a poetic sound,
But all that comes out
Is blah blahs, and doubt.
There’s not enough coffee,
To help satisfy me,
As long as I compare myself,
To everybody else.
So here in caffeine city,
The poetry is witty.
Every verse excites me.
Every line invites me,
To be better.
Speed is my muse,
As long as I let her.
A nicotine lozenge,
Four milligram a piece,
Helps me stay awake,
Until, I am allowed to sleep;
Helps me to stay alert,
Helps me write this verse,
But in the end
The zzzz will hit me worse.
I guess, I should have just gone to bed
Instead.
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 12:18 PM UTC
Once sun rose on his collar
with baubles of champagne
light twisting above his head,
those cherry earlobes, tug tug
seizing forearms, rippling
So he turns his head, and
the world tastes like a
grapefruit lozenge.
I feel like I have been
seen.
Jan 26, 2013
Jan 26, 2013 at 6:38 PM UTC
Potluck of paramour
Rivulets of auric
Lozenge Paragon's of tarot
As in this all
A freedom from mine own tenement!!!
Jun 7, 2015
Jun 7, 2015 at 6:06 PM UTC
your new short arriving
lustrous clinging body
;musk snugly arousing
quartered in filaments
pale, sallow rush with
instantly finger tips
linger and brush the
wane of day tenderly
)star(you're pert lozenge
is sugar thick minute
dreamfull bursting with
whispers electric; fall so
quietly, into the parted
mystery of night your
spangled nonsense and
two wrists'
2 hands
to palms flicker
with white fire infinitely
, which doesn't burn
yields to my touch , and
whom i fill dripping
with my illuminate
hush
Aug 12, 2012
Aug 12, 2012 at 8:46 PM UTC
*I was scared, lost
I felt anxious
Happiness betrayed me
And I felt nauseous
I looked into the mirror
Displeasure owned me
I walked out of my home
Demons cloned me
All my life
I was never at ease
I had to take drugs
And little anti-depressant pills
With nobody to share
I felt lonely and unnoticed
Nobody knew my secrets
As I built my anxiety hills
They judged me
Called me someone I never was
I wish,I wished
That they could know my past
And here I am
Its just another night
My heart craves to swallow drugs,
Just so I can finally feel alright*
Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 12:42 PM UTC
Lozenge
by Michael R. Burch
When I was closest to love, it did not seem
real at all, but a thing of such tenuous sweetness
it might dissolve in my mouth
like a lozenge of sugar.
When I held you in my arms, I did not feel
our lack of completeness,
knowing how easy it was
for us to cling to each other.
And there were nights when the clouds
sped across the moon’s face,
exposing such rarified brightness
we did not witness
so much as embrace
love’s human appearance.
Keywords/Tags: Love, sweet, sweetness, sugar, melt, melting, dissolve, dissolving, candy, lozenge, confection, tablet, pill, cough drop, capsule, confit, bonbon, honey, sweetie, chocolate
Apr 8, 2020
Apr 8, 2020 at 12:34 AM UTC
Beach Glass
Wrap your hand around
beach glass in your pocket
seafaring meteorite washed
up from another galaxy
cool lozenge squeezed
by degrees from deep
within the shoulder of a wave
eased glistening onto sand
glint of sunlight driving
a splinter through your eye
the hollow of your palm
exquisitely matched
sculpted seed ordained
sea vast on your tongue
in holy communion
body and the blood bottled
in blown green glass
a sign cast up
from the belly of a whale
or nothing more
than a world weary
vagabond drawn
to this lightning kissed beach
fused skeletons of sand
writhe in recognition.
Oct 19, 2016
Oct 19, 2016 at 7:22 AM UTC
With blistered determination
We cling to the life-giving ***
Bending double on wobbling hope
We scrap on the bored earth
Begging for a mouthful.
A gift bestowed upon us
Like King Solomon with many wives
To multiply and fill the world
Is to fill the world with smiles and flowers
The rainbow family
The best out of the worst
The blest to school the rest.
Like a stamp and a letter
We stick together
Bleating and bleeding together
Looking in the eyes of the foe
We sit huddled round the dying fire
The embers bequeathed from our past -
The spirits in the wind chanting songs
Of love and peace.
Our eyes have gone numb
Gawking and hawking without cease
The sullen skies of old hope
That invisible palm outstretching
From the melting clouds of distress
''O ye get this vital itaal''
Mannah from your sleepy gods(dogs?)
The pendulum knocks
Against the walls of our minds
Reminding us of our covenant
With the gods of belief
To live our lives as an explanation
The story of the plaintive shadows
From the land of black and white rainbows
And rusting sunrises and sunsets.
Look into the splintered mirror
And you see the dream
A frosty webbed apparition
On the misted glass
Disbelief?
Then scrap on the ***** lozenge
On your underwear and sniff!
Till death do us party
We will always declare our presence
Beaten on one cheek
Donate another cheek
Once beaten twice shine
Do not let your bitterness glow by night
For one day for all this
Toiling and drowning in sweat and blood
Someone will pay.
-dougwa-
Mar 3, 2012
Mar 3, 2012 at 2:32 AM UTC
sometimes i pretend
that the scratchy feeling in my throat
is you,
trying to claw your way out;
and when that happens
i slip another lozenge into my mouth
and grin.
Apr 6, 2013
Apr 6, 2013 at 8:47 PM UTC
She called me mister peppermint
& told me,
whenever she was down,
she could count on me
to have all the answers,
a perfect soothing lozenge.
O her eyes,
her beautiful eyes,
when she did those things,
she blew me away.
Aug 16, 2014
Aug 16, 2014 at 8:56 AM UTC
I sit down in tweak town
To jot down a new noun,
A nice verb, a poetic sound,
But all that comes out
Is blah blahs, and doubt.
There’s not enough coffee,
To help satisfy me,
As long as I compare myself,
To everybody else.
So here in caffeine city,
The poetry is witty.
Every verse excites me.
Ever line invites me,
To be better.
Speed is my muse,
As long as I let her.
A nicotine lozenge,
Four milligram a piece,
Helps me stay awake,
Until, I am allowed to sleep;
Helps me to stay alert,
Helps me write this verse,
But in the end
The zzzz will hit me worse.
I guess, I should have just gone to bed
Instead.
Feb 12, 2017
Feb 12, 2017 at 6:09 PM UTC
rests on your tongue and melts all the while
even your eyes' movements make me feel like a child
sickly sweet, the salt tears I try to quell
mistake this youthful paradise with loveless hell
and i'll keep waiting for you
you know I will
I can't **** these restless bouts within me
nor can you
swallowing squinting hinting at kissing, all alive
-cj
Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 8:44 PM UTC
The number 7
is a yellow lozenge.
He rolls around my brain with tumbleweed joy,
leaving an after-taste of citrus
and conviction.
Aug 20, 2018
Aug 20, 2018 at 10:18 AM UTC
Lawrence Hall, HSG
[email protected]
Election Night 2024: Dry Bones
“All we are, basically, are monkeys with car keys”
-Grandma Woody in Northern Exposure, “Animals R Us,” 1991
An early dusk falls under clouds from the Gulf
Yellow houselights wink on as daylight winks off
Supper in greasy bags from fast-fooderies
That everyone argues they can’t afford
Then like the lozenge in A Space Odyssey
A screen appears and dominates all
And family groupings center themselves around it
In excited cavortings before the images
Of brightly-colored cultic election scores
As fists swinging dry bones crush enemy skulls
Nov 5, 2024
Nov 5, 2024 at 8:38 AM UTC
Raw garlic as a throat lozenge
tucked into my cheeks
biting down and gaging at the bitter taste
it was starting to grow green
still alive despite sitting on a shelf
a tea of cayenne pepper
and honey
and apple-cider vinegar
and some more garlic for good measure
this is disgusting
and it goes down harder than cheap malt liquor
like going slow
when my nature is to jump in
shouting i love you from roof tops
i dance around it now
because though my nature has been
openness in the past
the pain has closed me up
getting better is an odd thing
its unpleasant
it takes time
Nov 14, 2016
Nov 14, 2016 at 10:05 PM UTC
I saw that crow one misting morn
scrabbling low with beakish scorn
his tailored coat splat dappled grey
the beading eye he cast my way
The plumage pale yet marks him out
no brother to the dark and stout
for mourning coat he'd gladly trade
the stabs and pecks of darkling babes
'gainst weathered rug of autumn mush
this feathered lozenge amidst the brush
knows his place at margins bare
without a friend, without a care
Sep 27, 2014
Sep 27, 2014 at 4:53 AM UTC
she is porous and kempt
underneath seven layers of tunneling veins
the first chronicles birth to end birth
her cycle
regular load
warm rinse
tumble dry
the second spoons out perverses
honey drizzle on her sacred bell
all for a man to dine and dash
Christ died for her sinful pleasures
the third cultivates fear of yellows
caution, wet floor
your father's skin three days before expiration
lemon lozenge in baby's gorge
the fourth is paralysis
in sleep in speech
in speep in sleech
in in in
in slurry sleep in
in snory speech
the fifth tickles her eyelashes
soft legs soon to amputate
wishes many a wishes
self-ful sacrifices
the sixth weighs a wagon and a mule
which will carry better?
her only baggage is a clove of garlic
a wooden axe
and birthday twine
the seventh encases in a web
a black button estranged from mothercoat
she is beneath this button coin
a porous sponge-doll
gowned in sheer satin night
she is kempt after all
Dec 18, 2016
Dec 18, 2016 at 1:16 AM UTC