Sanitized Poems | Examples

In Praise of the Euphemism

Of that body part men activate
to urinate or procreate –
as the case or need may be –
it’s clinical terminology
is still considered by many
as off limits in polite society
whereas its vulgar substitutes
still more than ever constitute 
the norm, though by the puritanical
are condemned as inexcusable.
And, therefore, to circumvent
their use and avoid embarrassment
they’ve been discreetly sanitized
and inoffensively euphemized
or camouflaged, whichever term
will spare you to least squirm –
like peepee, whatchamacallit,
skin faucet, little man, or whatsit.
Whereas using even the proper
or vulgar words will cause a shudder
leading to outbreaks of friction
by those who abhor such diction.
Even a French menu word like “coq”
(rooster, as in “coq au vin”) will shock,
and unless it’s correctly vocalized,
please leave that one unanglicized!

Hospital Walls

hospital walls close in on my fears
sanitized stench of inevitable demise
dreadful trek of dissipating years
hospital walls close in on my fears
smothered by woozy breaths of tears
lanolium as white as overcast skies
hospital walls close in on my fears
sanitized stench of inevitable demise

hospital walls close in on my fears
dreadful trek of dissipating years
smothered by woozy breaths of tears
sanitized stench of inevitable demise
lanolium as white as overcast skies
shouding the hope of eternal ties

When Lizzie was

When Lizzie was the lizzard queen? There were trumpets
And a jubilee..' A word from the Bible (by the way) you see?the
Tree was gilded in a 'night for day' the scenario was quite schematic..' As in royalty were indulging;  in satanic antics.'
andrew was hidden in her wings 'as sanitized artists had
Their sings' That tree of knowledge shimmered so cold ' it
Was about (genetic alteration should you have not been
Told?)  The firm that crafted it have a 'dark old name' yet
Ever from creation its been the same..A sad whey pale king waits
Out all the rains' as heaven is opened o'er humanity's pains.'

First Day

I wonder who’s in charge of our section.
The anxiety about who will lead me,
brings on a cold sweat.

Her sweater is tight.
I turtle-neck,
over my sanitized cubical.

Small breasts, tiny and hard in the frigid light.
Her spectacles add no color to the sterility.

“Are you numb?” She asks?
‘Not quite yet.”

"It’s the white precision
that examines us." She says distractedly.

"Yes."

Have you figured out how to fit in?”

“No, please tell me,
is there a password, a special name tag?
I am sure the one they gave me isn't working.
Should I frown as if concentrating?"

“Yes that might help.”

“Can you give me any advice?’

“Your crotch needs to be tighter.”

A chime goes off forever.

I wonder....
did we clock in or out?

Witches Choose Their Familiars

We witches in training all chose a familiar.
It was the rule at the School of the Transvillar.
I chose a gray bat with a broken wing.
Taylor selected a crawdad that could sing.

Molly picked a toad with an enormous toe.
I switched out the bat for a broken mule from Idaho.
Samantha chose a taxidermied man from Kalamazoo.
He had been stuffed by his nasty wife Little Lu.

But he’s stuffed, we argued. What can he do?
The stuffed guy said “I can out-sing and dance most of you.”
Apparently he had been motorized.
But asked Taylor “has he also been sanitized?”

Weaselly

Weaselly words deftly ply their sly stench,
As they undo the truth nut with a wrench,
With half-truths, errors and fake news woven
Into a spider's web of lies, stolen.

The cloak of vagueness and doubt created,
Is stained, defaced with deceit, dictated.
To veil intentions with twisted meaning,
Camouflaged in patch-ups so demeaning.

Weaselly words, so cunningly devised,
Mask the truth so despised, with lies disguised,
With watered down and sanitized version,
Of what is real, not a perversion.

The half-truths and straight-faced lies dance and sway,
Twisting meanings in a cunning display,
Masking true intentions, shrouding what's right,
In a cloak of wry words, tainted with spite.

Lost and Found Doll

Cuddly Paulette Doll with sweet smiling zest
Has found herself a gracious home that's blest
In our orphanage of compassion’s nest
Where she became my great gift, indeed best.

Paulette Doll was once lost to dirt-filled pest
Yet was recovered toward cleansing quest
Purified, sanitized to the fullest
For restoration’s glow, freshly purest.

In me as new owner, she feels safest
Since I call her, “My Darling Doll, dearest”
Now, Paulette Doll always wears pretty vest
While we both meet the Lord in prayer crest. 

Paulette Doll and I rejoice* with the rest
Along orphans who hold dolls to our breast
Thanking God for fellowship bonding fest 
Making us belong midst love so warmest!

*Philippians 3:1 Finally, my brethren, rejoice in the Lord...
July 2, 2023

2nd place, "The Lost Doll" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Charles Messina; judged on 7/16/2023.

Vermin Decamp

Rats and cockroaches
have moved to the country.

The city is overrun with unsanitary humans,
it needs a clean cloth to thrive upon,
not the dishcloth grime
of much degraded minds.

It is a disgrace, a black mark
upon an already uncivil civilization,
however, the rats and cockroaches
are vacationing and will not return
to the metropolis

until the trash in the streets
is sanitized of mankind's
indifference and lack of interest.

Great Poetry

How does one define
great poetry? The best
rhyme in time? A musical
phrase that stays, reverberates
within the catacombs of a Devotee's
celestial sign, lubricating his every thought
as a priest's wine, sipping while he prays, 
saturating his blood with the effervescence
of an all loving, redeeming deity; who knows 
well His creation's need for affirmation, the urge 
to write; so invented He, neat words in sympathy 
to both inspire and delight – 
                                      Or is great poetry 
more antithetical?~ no conscious effort 
to unseal, for never prescriptively hermetical – 
a sacrilege if sanitized like something 
contrived for medically medical; enters the lull 
like a masked virus in the night, awakening soundly
sleeping hands to their inherent flight~ a light
clicked on to feverishly, tappingly, divinely compose; 
such all powerful driving might, pouring
out of every orifice I suppose: from one's mind,
eyes, lips, punctuating backside and
imperfect often grossly ventilating nose....

My Wayward Thought

MY WAYWARD THOUGHT

My wayward thought
It streams into my heart…
Uncontrollably,
Like a turbulent sea,
Tossing back and forth.


My wayward thought visit me
Even at the Church!
Right there on the altar!
Even when I lift my voice to God
In worship…
I just couldn’t help it!
My heart is greatly deceitful.

I have been transformed…
I have been sanctified
Washed and purified
The HolySpirit bears me witness!
So why couldn’t I hold my wayward thoughts  into captive?

A ray of light…
Seeped into my heart,
Gently as the dawn of a new day.
And at the glimpse of the light,
The darkness evaporated!
Then it dawn on me…
Exactly what my heart needed…
Sanctification of the WORD!
My heart needed to be sanitized…
Only by the Word!



Daily renewal of the Word
Gave me power over imaginations,
Power over arguments…
That exalt itself against
The knowledge of Christ!
Then the Word became a shield,
For my fragile heart.

Fierce arrows of wayward thoughts,
Shot angrily at my heart!
It couldn’t penetrate!
My  heart has been shielded
By the Word!
Oh yes, shielded and protected,
Only by the Word.

©Ayeni Oluwatosin

Wish It Made Sense But

Rendezvous renaissance respects Rembrandt’s recollection
I ignore illustrious ingenuity integrated in intelligent ignorance
Jupiter’s juxtaposition jumbles jiggly jamboree’s juices
Collective creativity colorfully collects catnip corridors
But does it make sense? To part of me yes.
The rest of me is waiting for a sanitized explanation.
Unfortunately, the same personalities do not return a second time.

The Euthanized Pet

a sanitized death 
      no blood guts pain even sweat 
            that’s life said the vet
       shaking his head with regret
   poor dog wagged his tail ~ we wept

By 
David Kavanagh 

Reflecting on our 
old dog Casper 
was euthanized 
and died in 2013

Progeny

Some years ago,
having more than I needed
and time on my hands,
I deposited funds from
one side of the country 
to the other.
Private, closet sized rooms,
sanitized for my protection,
visual stimulations upon request.
Today my progeny are everywhere, 
and not once in all those years
so much as a father's day card
from the ungrateful little rug-rats.

Suzanna Selfish

"Don't bother me with emails or calls."
Alas, she broke both legs in an unfortunate fall.

How she cried,like a martyr, being burnt at the stake.
She got her just deserts, as with others, she would not 
socially partake.

Her alligator tears splashing on the sanitized, marble, 
hospital shiny floor.
She deserved her loneliness and oh, so much more!




               Moral of this poem
" Do unto others, as you would have them do unto you."


                   10-28-2020
                       #3

Sin Was My Fish

Sin Was My Fish
Written: by Miracle Man
September 14, 2020

No longer I desired to live life carefree,
and from my great fish’s belly God rescued me.
He redeemed me that day and I was made whole,
He had washed me clean and sanitized my soul.
That Born again encounter I won't forget,
and fifty years later I have no regret.

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