"saccharin" poems
Are you sound of mind?
Addicted to dandelions
like the ocean is to ice.
Wait outside the blood bank,
learn how to write dialogue
and make saccharin spines.
My journal is a tangle of spines,
keep an open mind
help me box up my ****** dialogue.
I’ve always been a fan of dandelions
etching paths along the river bank,
streams within the winter ice.
Buckets of camphor ice
relax the notches in spines
as we wait in line at the food bank.
Thoughts of jawbones on my mind,
the taste of dandelions
and organized pre-scripted dialogue.
Backhanded blue dialogue,
counting the vanilla crystals of ice
blowing the smell of cinnamon into floating dandelions.
My hands handle happiness spines
with the peace of mind
of money in the piggy bank.
Let's rob a bank
shooting quiet malleable dialogue
through an altered state of mind.
Your ribs are two sheets of ice
ivy wrapping around our intertwined spines
crumbly blowing breaths of dandelions.
Second hand dandelions
build up in the river bank
muddy trenches around spines
whisper outspoken blue green dialogue.
Three pounds of dry ice,
warm water vapour at the back of my mind
Store buy your dandelions, bear in mind
that the West Bank is covered in ice
and that spines speak their own muted dialogue.
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 1:08 AM UTC
Of all vice in the world under discipline
Laziness – a Curse - is like a Saccharin.
Sweet as pipe, sonorous as violin
Wicked as a snake, ill-mannered as Bedouin;
Laziness creeps in secretly body within
And remains there undisturbed and akin.
It is seen when duty or slog does spin
Grinds us till in others found Lenin.
But that is a bad time as made us thin.
Hence precaution must be taken, O Kin!
Laziness, a Bad King, should not reign
Over us from beginning to let out jinn.
Of all vice in the world under discipline
Laziness – a Curse - is like a Saccharin.
Aug 13, 2017
Aug 13, 2017 at 8:40 AM UTC
Do not let me trust your
Mouth full of lies
Kisses of saccharin-sweet hemlock
Eyes of angelic innocence
And heart of iron, forged in Hell
Set me free before you hurt me
Let me go and fair thee well
Feb 23, 2014
Feb 23, 2014 at 12:19 AM UTC
This saccharin seeps into me,
Liquid recompense trickling,
Trickling,
Into my bloodstream.
This ichor, sweeter than the morphine
I fiend for.
A ****** hungering for a hit.
So I pray to you,
Somnus, please don't send me away.
Night looming behind you,
Death in the wings.
Everyone knows that they have a sweet tooth
And I'm all sugar.
Feb 7, 2018
Feb 7, 2018 at 11:39 PM UTC
Coco is sitting on my lap as she adamant about that
When she is sweet, she is saccharin
With black, velvet fur over her perfectly shaped head
The one with the bat-shaped ears -
She even looks like Batman from behind
Armani, he doesn't like his name very much
For if he did, he'd come more when he is called.
I'm not sure I really like it for him either.
He is truly a pygmy lion and his demeanor is his roar
He let me hold him earlier - but jealous Coco had to interfere
They are both beautiful - in the stereotypical cat way
Individual in their personalities though
Unique in their expressions of themselves as frisky felines
They demand attention -
especially when they have something "important" to say
They will tear up the apartment in one fell swoop
And I refer to their claws as weapons of mass destruction
Seems their claws provide them a means of revenge
A means of recreation as well as means of diffusing stress
Cats stress? Oh, my but yes!
Don't be tardy with the food and certainly,
Don't be ***** when they've pood
If so, you will know their wrath as described above
Cleaning up another mess can cause YOU some great distress
Which will all melt away as they purr at your caress
I don't think that I've found a more rewarding position
Than caring for a cat, despite their disposition
Of Mice and Men, though a great, great tale
Has nothing on Coco and Armani or their magnificent tails
I acquiesce that I am their guest and so, will behave in part
To give love and affection, some discipline or direction
To know just how I will behave
This is "how you train your human"
The way of the master, the feline brigade!
Nov 21, 2014
Nov 21, 2014 at 11:43 PM UTC
Her steaming kettle
window into wetness of what was
whistling jets conjuring self-precipitation
There, go memories
dewy laden long gone
Vexing saturation making tea time’s solitude
weep childhood, weep marriage, weep motherhood
ululating swirls in her cup
No amount of saccharin can sweeten
sipping whimper’s brew
Her hour of orange pekoe empties
Sep 21, 2018
Sep 21, 2018 at 9:14 PM UTC
slightest of her sight
was such it's gravity's might
wholly my heart shook
such was that compelling look
left me utterly sired
tangled like a tainted wire
heart crumbling
feet stumbling
blind by her aura's light
such was it's bright
my heart melodiously sings
trapped by her angelic wings
like she came from pretty moon
for me was she a boon
her rolling eyes something they meant
for I was hypnotized by her saccharin scent
wore exquisite crimson dress
that showered roses with zest
I knew one thing for sure
this love was veritably pure
no dream no fantasy this was
to aquire you my only devoted cause..
May 29, 2013
May 29, 2013 at 7:34 AM UTC
Saccharin
( lay it on me Spanish queen)
Jun 12, 2015
Jun 12, 2015 at 1:01 PM UTC
the defense of your legacy manifested into strings of saccharin
and phrases like ‘Come on in from the rain. We all need a torrent to own the storm, just- take off your clothes, don’t mind Kierkegaard.’
your sincerity is a cipher
you’re something of a conversation piece between good friends
who were artfully made of pre-engineered steel on a day Jove tremored in his bed
you’re something postured beneath a javelin
and likewise- something propelled for decorum
blackguard, black coffee and a birthmark turned into a running joke.
inevitable.
you searched the bottoms of summer pools
and found no discernible trace of your history
her sable crown whips back and forth in your head
and you maintain the chaos with aureate cries of preservation
it’s a halcyon boom, a lonely and sexless halcyon boom
it makes every yellow and red dress chimerical
it makes your neck unassailable
drugstore cowboy
they got close enough
to see you sweat
to note that heat and her magnificence could purge as quick as they reinstate
and you still beat
like they do
stubbornly.
Oct 17, 2011
Oct 17, 2011 at 10:20 AM UTC
Smoked salmon lightly charred,
Sweetness in air like
Saccharin infused with mulch and cedar.
Barking of sled hounds
Benign touch of the dry, cold wind to
Bland your nerves
Temperatures below zero
Still welcoming
The sun peeking out from grey clouds
The beginning of a new day,
In the arms of Alaska.
Jul 3, 2013
Jul 3, 2013 at 1:29 PM UTC
There was sweetness far too savage
In the sweat of your embrace
A window reflection all too simplified
For the flesh we bite just to taste
There was piquancy in saccharin tea
Spiked within promises we chase
A line confined within passion’s poison
Cursively articulated in voided space
There was a wholesome serenity in anticipation
Diluted with the sins that desires trace
A confessional ridden with dishonesty and hellfire
Fueled with the shadows in the sunlight’s wake
Passion will be as
Passion does
We will **** each other
Like the other does
And all will be
What never was
Jan 28, 2013
Jan 28, 2013 at 10:27 PM UTC
I know that I will spend the rest of my life with you, for you.
I know that we will spend many nights, both sleepless and slumbering, together.
I know that I will spend every day of my life thinking about you and wanting to care for you.
Society may never accept us and I might never tell my family about you, but if what we feel isn't marriage then I don't want it.
I know what we have is much sweeter than the most saccharin nectars of heaven. I don't care if Satan is my roommate, if that means I got to live with you.
Sep 18, 2023
Sep 18, 2023 at 12:26 PM UTC
To my mate Stevo....with love
‘Tis perilous, Sir, to write our thoughts to paper,
To commit our living words to those unknown,
For regardless of the flair expressed in writing all with care
The interpretation’s different to each clone.
What may be black and white and clear as crystal,
To others may diffuse as shades of grey
And the message, though succinct, may be read as challenge brink-ed
To confuse and collapse in disarray.
Oh the agony and the ecstasy of we writers
Is best captured in the rolling of the dice
For to script all saccharin sweet may be interpreted as… effete?
But a dour approach won’t be observed as nice!
Yet to lay about with broadsword is defeatist
And collapsing belly up implies a lie,
So perhaps the best refrain is to abstain from all the pain
And leave the ****** prose to fools who don’t care… why?
Marshalg
In absentia….again!
18 October 2013
Oct 18, 2013
Oct 18, 2013 at 2:38 AM UTC
they sometimes say
yes the taste of
poison cloys
but in the end it kills its host
in wickedness
destroys
the sweet and saccharin flavor
that revenge imparts
is nothing to the honey
the milk of kindness
brings the
HEART
SoulSurvivor
2/3/2016
Feb 3, 2016
Feb 3, 2016 at 8:09 AM UTC
I ripped out your insides from the outside,
and I hung them out to dry.
I tore your outside to spill your insides,
and I stood and watched you cry.
I fed you lies for every meal,
and watched you eat them up.
I watched as you grew sick and sicker,
but even that was not enough.
I heard you cry and laughed out loud,
but you refused to see,
That even though you told me "never,"
you did all this to me.
You ripped me open and ate me up,
as my cheeks kept getting wetter.
I did to you what you did to me,
Only..baby, I did it better.
Aug 17, 2011
Aug 17, 2011 at 7:00 PM UTC
***** Miss Whint took a flight on a Saturday night
***** Miss Whint showed the world her insides
If science can’t show her a number
She’ll take despair to a mystical side
And the world will be her child
If you can find a path to the sea
I’ll call you a human being
If that’s worth believing
Faces articulate so cantankerously
And lose any intention for their mind
While we grow, yet still coagulate
Perhaps we’ll see, her cruelty’s bound to time
And we’ll be fine
In her broken home is where she dominates
And hates her own cherry tree
Who screamed immensely
***** Miss Whint, she took a flight
***** Miss Whint was despair at first sight
She lost emotionality
When she confided in reality
***** Miss Whint has the look of a saccharin knife
***** Miss Whint made it hard to live a life
When we’re all strangers to the sun
The working man’s light is the muzzle flash of a gun
But we’re just having fun
She sweeps the open road with love
And a diamond compartment
Twisting the road-bent
Indignant children are the fodder of her highway
That leads to a city in the wane
While she eats the air and lives another day
Deep lines accentuate her mighty wake
And that’s okay
The fools are left to smiles and opulence
She makes them find sense in their own pretence
Preaching, “there’s no end”
***** Miss Whint, she took a flight
***** Miss Whint was despair at first sight
You lost emotionality
When you confided in reality
If her mouth was wider when she began
Maybe we could have had some fun
But how could she care for what happened minutes ago?
There is an open vent to useless things to sow
If her eyes were brighter when we lost our lives
Maybe we could be satisfied
But typewriters stay their hand to the climate’s cold command
And we’re left to indulge in what still stands
So, as I wrote this like a letter
To a lady of vicious weather
Someone then caught me and said,
“Swallow those words or I’ll have your head”
So I said,
“This note has no point, so go count your coins”
***** Miss Whint has the look of the fourth of July
***** Miss Whint took a ruler to the human life
When we’re all frightened by the sun
The working man’s light is the masquerade of a gun
But we’d all rather run
Jun 28, 2019
Jun 28, 2019 at 1:07 PM UTC
Memories grow whisper thin as autumn's gold on winter wind,
the leaves have turned
a brittle brown,
the memories
fade away.
Without the whispered words within, without the gilded saccharin,
this little now -
this moment
still
remains.
Oct 29, 2013
Oct 29, 2013 at 5:51 AM UTC
no sir. so sir
you didn't catch me hesitating
it's inhuman
for me to leave you waiting
let's see...
eyes are dull and morose
it won't take the usual dose
of saccharin and vitamins
to blanket the symptoms
no wait, it should give up
this is a hopeless case
sir, you have a shifting fiction
with a pretty girl's face
this wasn't in my job description
i didn't sign up for my condition
i won't doll it up with lily lace
i've got a fractured case
i've got an unstoppable case
Sep 5, 2013
Sep 5, 2013 at 11:26 AM UTC
Remote area where there is no screen
Timidity rules alone trying to save skin.
Of all evils in the creation under discipline
Timidity – a curse – is like a Saccharin.
Sugary as tweet, booming as a violin
Wicked as a fox, ill-mannered as Bedouin;
Timidity sneaks secretly physique within
And remains there undisturbed and akin.
When obligatory duty or slog is seen
Sharpens us, whet us till found Lenin.
This makes us skinny, lanky and thin.
Living timid for me is no than a sin.
Hence precaution must be taken, O Kin!
Timidity, a severe knight, should not reign
Over us from beginning to let out jinn.
Aug 13, 2017
Aug 13, 2017 at 11:24 PM UTC
*Insect soloist of enormous color brushstroke
the given day
Cobalt- silver windows laced with
mountains of billowing steam , coveys
of timid Quail spark an afternoon of vivid dreams
A whisper of hope to awaiting ear , the
saccharin flavor of love filling warm air
The living day of Wren , Sparrow and Chickadee
The very hour of Live Oak , Sugar Pine and Mulberry
Fertile , vivacious stream beds on course for Gulf waters
Rainbow infused land of Cherokee Fathers* ...
Apr 26, 2016
Apr 26, 2016 at 4:47 PM UTC
Sometimes I feel the dry air on my parched heart feel the faith in hope and love streaming out from the delta the fingers crossed timbers lost in the hurricane of hail Marys and weak end roller coasters, so many saccharin socials and UN I'd ent if ied flights sauce erd threw the night what will it take to cure me right? Fallow friend and hallowed brother dreams are where we reunite but I wish that fog would clear and I fear that rest just might your mother seems young at gaze but those bones are weary from the fight and I am weary too so I said all that just to say where the havens are you?
Mar 4, 2016
Mar 4, 2016 at 9:46 AM UTC
Not the one to sound saccharin
I put a tear in Cupid’s eye
High expectations.
More likely a fear of rejection...
Losing imaginary infatuation.
Jan 22, 2014
Jan 22, 2014 at 12:27 PM UTC
I don’t care
About your perception of my
Saccharin sentimentality
But I know
That on the day
That humanity kills the last Tiger
That the beauty in the world
Will have gone
Our science-fiction
Will start to be fact
And magnificence
Will be only ours to create
Melancholy though it will be
If we are to be Gods
And make this world our concrete
Functional costed playground
Then the poetry will need
to be **** good
The music
Better
And we will need to
Reconnect with something
That will make it all
bearable
forgiveable
and worthwhile
Apr 5, 2013
Apr 5, 2013 at 9:23 AM UTC
I am the kind of person
To write love poems for someone I just met
Thinking that maybe words can make up for my lack of confidence
My quirkiness
My overwhelming insecurities
And that awkward laugh that often escapes my mouth without warning
Phrases eager to leave my lips
I compose sonnets without thinking
Sew them on to jean pockets so that
Everytime you get undressed
You think of me
I don't know if that's socially acceptable
But I'm willing to take the risk
See
I am the person
Who fears coming off as creepy
Yet still hands out lines of poetry like candy on street corners
I swear my purpose
Is not
To reel you in
Capture you between spiderwebs spun from my fingertips
My intentions are honest
I am not looking for one night stand
Meaningless
Not on a constant hunt for momentary happiness
I want something that will last longer than sweetness
Longer than saccharin
Hit harder than whiskey
Won't leave a bitter aftertaste on my tongue
I have drowned too many times in salty waters
To know that I am more likely to sink than float
I have not yet learned how to swim in the deep end
I do not know how many attempts it will take to get to the center of me
There is no sweet middle
Waiting to be divulged
I have blocked off the pathways to myself
Not very often do I open them back up
I have a sign tied around my body stating
Warning
Do not enter
You might get stuck
I have a heart that is filled with quicksand and duct tape
The longer you stay around the harder it is
For me to let go
I am not trying to trap people
But everytime they leave,
A part stays with me
I have a photo albums on the insides of my skin
Sometimes the memories flowing through my veins pile up
And it is too much
All at once
I am the kind of person
Who runs towards sharp edges of opportunity with open arms
And then complains about the bleeding
I am the kind of person
Who can't help but repeat
Repeat
Everything I feel
Until I don't feel it anymore
I have promised myself
That I will stop falling at first sight
I have hit my head relentlessly
With severity
Too many times
But has never been enough for me to stop
None of this
Has ever been enough for me to stop
I am the kind of person
To write love letters
And never send them
Keeping them behind locked doors
Keeping them
For myself
To remember every detail
I am the kind of person
That may never know
How exactly
To love
I am still learning
How to love
Myself.
Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 4:18 AM UTC