There’s a lash implanted in deep
Bound to the nature that drives me
It’s not the scourge itself that stings the most,
it’s the knowledge of why the flicks fall
Knowing the satiety of extinct flesh
Knowing the saccharinity of bygone honor:
The honor of being the only exception
And knowing the omnipresent void they leave behind
Now I only know hunger
There’s martyrdom in surrendering to the abject draw of the scourge
There’s Christ-like pain in adoration beyond station and beyond forethought
I’ve been marred, somehow without death and without cure
Left to live a life afflicted by the idea there’s more I’ll never be
I know the loss more familiarly than the lash
So, when the taste of loss still lingers on my lips,
you have to understand the nature of it
Categories:
saccharinity, longing, loss, poetry, self,
Form: Free verse
Boo, hiss, spare me the phony sentimentality
Like you really think anyone gives a damn,
And, while you’re at it I say, sarcastically,
Get your side-glancing, eye-rolling response
Nothing so disgusts me as false gooeyness
That syrupy froth that freezes on demand,
Accompanied by raw, unbridled saccharinity
Just one touch of your pure, unavoidable grace.
Written May 22, 2022
For “Sentimentality” Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Julia Ward
Categories:
saccharinity, feelings,
Form: Free verse
In my ultimate unnatural timidity,
I must admit a bit of vulgar sublimity
In my blatant disregard for femininity
And my propensity for despising fake saccharinity
Categories:
saccharinity, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form: Rhyme