Sapid Poems | Examples


List of Member Poems

A Familial Condition

Disgruntled, they come to me as bit-parts
ripped from black and white movies.
Mad aunt Anastasia, who should have been a nun,
one of her hands would refrain from touching her,
the other has been long carried off
by wolfish priests.
The Holy Ghost has pickled her in a jar,
she now floats between worlds.

Uncle Sean, the iniquitous Maître D'
looming above a meaty cleavage,
he who flambéed Steak Diane
with a slyly sapid leer,
poured cognac,
then after the salacious hunt,
triumphantly decanted his thirsty+ lusts
into any grateful woman
whomever.

Cousin Tommy died early,
but not before he had burnt through
the Old Testament.
A brimstone disorder gnawed his innards,
left him lacking normal human kapok,
kept him bubbling until a self-inflicted wound,
blew out his brains.

There are cousins removed and living,
who disassemble themselves, with zealotry,
or ennui. None took the middle way,
none quietly settled-in
to live a life of unremarkable normality,
trysting the nights away
with damp-stained regrets.

Like larks’ tongues, they sing in the invisible.
They reside in the far reaches,
until dark angels flame out
in their berserker eyes.

Where Do Poets Go

Poets may pen to pine, preach, praise and proclaim
sapient and sapid some stir the soul,
some leave us high and dry and try to maim,
wonder what is their design and their goal?

On modernity and mythology  
poets may write and fight for our civil rights,
and inspire us with ideals to be
in socially sane, safe societies. 

Wherever they tread and traverse they touch 
and transform us with their words, warmth and wit,
on the question, where poets go should I clutch?
as I lavish love - laud them for hearts lit.

Where can poets go, for sure they are secure
in our hearts plays their prayerful words so pure.


27-Nov-2020
Where do we poets go? Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Silent One
10 Syllables per line. Poetry Soup Syllable Counter

Reserata Carcerem Liii

Quoth felon fate t' nosy nature -
savoring sapid strays punctured.
Worn winds for eerie eavesdrop tarr':
"Why oft does thou nurse salty scars?"

Nosy nature hewn smooth visage
'to a sassy smirk - crushed chins' sway.
Ergo writ she ñ plagued papyrus,
torn tallies acumen smothers.

Fate anon her equipage husked 
a" h' nosy nature's lured lotion gulped.
Ergo went h' with th' eerie empress,
t' apt agora leased b' swoon's interest.

Athwart dangled tamed twain 'cross track,
'n' fate hith'to ñ nature's lackey manned.
      '20:07:22:08:46

Note:
a) of nature and fate.
b) Written apace with Middle English lexis:
i) Quoth - said
ii) Tarr' (tarry) - waited
iii) Oft - often
iv) Visage - face
v) Ergo - then/consequently
vi) Writ - wrote
vii) Anon - immediately
viii) Equipage - Military dress
ix) Husked - undressed
x) Agora - a place of gathering
xi) Swoon - infatuation
xii) Athwart - from side to side
xiii) hith'to (hitherto) - till now
xiv) lackey - manservant
c) The following are used with no syllabic consequences:
i) t' - to
ii) 'to - into
iii) ñ - on
iv) a" - as
v) h' - he
vi) th' - the
vii) b' - by
viii) 'n' - and


A Familial Condition

Disgruntled, they come to me as bit-parts
ripped from black and white movies. 
Mad aunt Anastasia, who should have been a nun.
One of her hands will not touch her,
the other has been carried off
by wolfish priests.
The Holy Ghost has pickled her in a jar;
she floats now between worlds. 

Uncle Sean, the satyric commis-waiter,
looming above a meaty cleavage,
flambéed Steak Diane with a sapid leer,
poured cognac and butter,
commingled shallots at the table.
Then after the hunt, he’d triumphantly decant
into whomever. 

Cousin Tommy died early,
but not before he had burnt through
the Old Testament.
A brimstone disorder gnawed his innards,
left him lacking normal human kapok,
kept him bubbling until a self-inflicted wound
blew out his brains.

There are cousins removed and living
who disassemble themselves, with zealotry
or ennui. None took the middle way,
none quietly settled-in
to live among damp-stained regrets.  

Like larks’ tongues, they sing in the invisible.
They reside in the far reaches,
until dark angels flame out
in their berserker eyes.

Premium Member On the Wall

On the wall standing

Amidst the danger encroaching

Mirrors the alligator’s razors

Securely entrenched in mud waiting

A boa slides into the deep...

The seconds tick amicably.

A table for two served yet again

Another tango about to be untangled

Periodic busts of water

Jet from the sighing sea...

A canoe capsizes

In this noonday medley

A suckling amidst the troubled current

Heads gaily for the sea’s bed...

Another scene, the serene sea

Running a sapid gold hue

Allows a fluttering dove above admiringly

To the nonchalant glare

In the distant horizon

Of the setting sun.

Afar the mongrels howl

At grotesque elements from hade...

Suddenly Andromeda hurtles through the sky

In search of her Medusa-defeated lover

Provoking Hercules into a riotous laughter

As its echoes furious might does Atlantis in...

Love Divine

Love so pure, so holy, earthly and divinely bound
Sweet radiance of ecstatic flow of bliss in thee I found 
Drowned in the larvishing citadel of thy immortal love 
As in the parlance of a mighty ocean in a torrential move 

Love so perfect, love so genuine 
(Finding thee was not easy at all)
Love I longed to have from my juvenile
Melodious love radiantly shining bright 
As the exceptional effulgence of the moon light 

My love for now, my precious love for eternity 
My fervent solemn love bounded by purity and unity 
Defending thee a clarion call to be heeded unwittingly 
As my love is bound to you ever sure and permanently 

Unwavering in the presence of transient uncertainty 
Ever flowing in harmonious holiness and sanctity 
Sweet love, anodyne love, love sapid and innocuous 
Wetting thy succulent lips a deed that constantly binds us

In the moment of momentary immortality 
As the transitory passage  of every mortality 
I shalt whisper thy tender love unequivocally 
To great pilgrims of love who reign eternally


Solitary Wanderer

I'm a solitary wanderer
Guided by the winds and the sol rays 
I roam through lonely valleys
Sipping from streams to streams 
Riding on cascade , up and down 
Sleeping under stars and silver moons 
Night’s canopy as tent
Wandering in the verdant fields
Rolling on soft grass 
Swimming in colossal oceans
Climbing onto the mountain cap 
Motleying acme of the sky 
Drowning into the heavenly showers 
Lay supine, dreaming
Of the sparkling stars
Holding them in the eyes
Life sparkles with glee and  gaity 
Solitary wanderer is I 
Accosted  from the crowd and streets 
Blancbec meadows  and gardens 
I encounter with four seasons:
Frigid,blood-Warm,green ,and mahogany
Salutes  and welcome me,a solitary wanderer.
Desertation  is beatitude 
I  find meaning in myself 
Meaning to sojourn in sole calmness 
To  sapid the sap of serenity and composure 
That's how I turn myself away from crowd,
Wandering as  long  as meandering ogins. 

__19/06/2018.

The Madmans Midnight

The Madman’s Midnight


Tis death again, that flutters in my macrocosmic mind
We may know not when, but it is easy to feloniously find
We wait with flourishing fear for the madman’s midnight
We adjust to a nourishing sphere of a fetal fervent freight

All hope, distant dawns; love may not help us to escape
We are only pawns, incoherent of all recrudescent rape
Shadows fill the room, smoke the abominable abulic air
The hands of doom approaching the midnight sapid snare

~~~

No fixes for the crucifixes all must come to an egregious end
Triploids thru empty voids we all must accumulatively ascend
Our affinity questions divinity before the final hematic hour
There are no signs in the callow confines as we scurry to scour

No more time as we climb the stairways to heavens or hells
We decide where we hide and thus form secret schizoid shells.






Feb.14.2018
The doomsday clock 2 minutes to midnight 
Sponsored by: Emile Pinet

Liselle

Locks of heaven carefully etched in stone
Lore and lure of purified grace shall atone
The radiance of beauty and frilly lace
Shared towards me by her beautiful face
Liselle my dear, grant me life again

Persephone only granted your sapid tears
Twirling in your longing and fears
Twisting in your rhythm of blissful motion
Rather tumultuous entwining notion

Cut off those locks dear and I'll kiss your cheek
Forever to protect you from those too meek
Dear Liselle, you are mine forever now
God's gift, his divinity, heavenly endowed
Breathe

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