Short Sickened Poems

slick oil spills to sea

a sickened beast rises up. . . 

Heaven can't help us...

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Used as healing sanctuary.
Great sunshine and very airy.
Sickened children priests did carry.
Lives were so dear.
Made the natives bright and cheery.
Souls were saved here....

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George judged 'the classics' pretty slim pickins
Reading them, his mood soured and sickened
   George much preferred trash
   Which cost little cash
Then he tried Shakespeare ~ said, 'What the Dickens!'...

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She Succumbs Ever So Slightly She Surrenders 
Letting Life's Lessons Linger
Slowly Sinking 
Lusting 
Softly Spoken Secrets Sold To Her Soul
Left Lifeless Lonely And Low
Suddenly Slipping 
Losing
She Savagely Shared Her Sickened Sorrows Savoring Every Seductive Scar...

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the merchant beguile
sat not sanded, miracle mile
what went where whence
was their way, around the fence
in American fen
gators and crossbow
sickened accosted
absolutely aware
awed without care
float and flutter
your way through this life
see me clear
back to my wife...

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Screws in my head
Turned by what you said
Burned inside my cage
By heat of screaming rage

Unfair is your life
Sickened by the wife
Quickend by the friend
That you still pretend, to be

Chase after the skin
Learning where I have been
Turning to get the kiss
Take it all back, you wish...

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The controlled pageantry
The longing; natural, pure
She waits, wondering
When will he know?
Maybe, on his own
The truth revealed as he lay, breathless
Undeniable fear
He remains sickened by her truth
Wanting purity, hes a glimmer
Engorged, filthy she sighs
In the end, bella......

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Screws in my head
Turned by what you said
Burned inside my cage
Heat of the screaming rage

Unfair is your life
Sickened by the wife
Quickend by the friend
That you still pretend, to be

Chase after the skin
Learning where I have been
Turning to get the kiss
Take it all back, you wish...

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TRANQUILITY

Totally abandoned
Reaching out
Against the wind
No one is there.  A
Quickening heartbeat that is
Useless to calming me down.
Instead, I am sickened because
Love is not there and
Is buried in the rubble of 
Tanks of tarnished memories.  A
Yolk around my neck that drags me along....

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That which thought wrought yesterday
may befuddle us now

but with the coming of a good day 
lives can survive the morrow

though the mind be confused
and heart sickened

the sun will rise still 
and some beleaguered souls

in their final resting place will lie
and greet the dark with peace....

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Who are you?-Shared curse.
Marked in malice as vengence burns.
Lost eyes creep the stare of stone.
Breathe fire to speak words that shatter glass.
Let forbidden truth emerge.
Your wicked silence tells the tale of a hollow soul.
You are a product of sickened disgrace.
I need only forget your face.
Bring ease to this wrench I hold....

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Sadness
—————

Ignorance is bliss so I hear, sadness fills the room mixed with fear, my time here is shallow, from the sickened words they hear, I can't figure out for the life of me how, in the world they believe is now, thoughts can pass by me, all the lies they tell blinding, so sadness seeps, creeps, hears peeps, and defies me...

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So many destructive

So much destruction

So many lost ones

So many lost

So many deaths

So many dying

So many sick

So many sickened

Again I cry

And I can heed their cries

But is there hope?

They- 

They Lack The hope!

The trees heard birds

Falling 

Then they awake

To see the day light


... &  Hope...

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A man I knew once,
A man I knew as friend.

Within his indenture he turned on us,
Fed up, we no longer could contend.

A man who asked so much from us,
Our support, so little we lend.

We weren’t there when he called on us,
We weren’t there to help him mend.

Left with guilt as vile as puss,
For we were negligent and dilatory in his sickened end.



04/20/13...

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Bastardizations of a good night;
Sullen moonlight pours recklessly through blinds,
Sickened stomach turns,
Eyes rill and flutter egg-white visions.

Shuffle:
I am a joint rolled from Bible paper,
A blood blister in a hemopheliacs mouth. 
Deal:
You are an inkstain of poetical nonsense,
A burst pipe running lengthwise through brain matter:

The entire ****ing world....

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Vengeful man sics dog
on neighbor, pats pet on head, 
smiles, saying “Bad dog”!




After writing multiple versions, I decided I needed only seventeen syllables to convey my symbolic message! (written after being sickened by reports on riots at the Capitol)


January 8, 2021
entered in the Crumpled Thoughts Poetry Contest
Sponsor: John Lawless...

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strange kind of fashion

you were my forever passion

there a wrong and a right

no more fighting in the dead of night

the trees that blow to the sweet winds push

my sickened day has come

my mind thinks of you only you

my heart so ever blue

the passion or just the fashion of you keeps my dreams alive
for another day

so please stay
  

the nightwalker...

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I was sickened stricken breathing obscured 
O' so losing time failing mine
 I have became blind to my injuries becoming me 
I need to see the time for there's only seconds left 
Before my last breath I must hurry, hurry and run 
For if I were to pass not being saved 
I will be suffering the worst at last eternal death


9/18/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021...

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The child that hides in the forest
Is crying
She is sickened
She is dying
You have poisoned her
Her heart, it barely beats
The poor dear
Is crying
Of course she knows
She is dying
The pull of death is just too strong
For her, life shall close early
The babe
Is crying
Too late to change her fate
She is dying
She slips, slips away
The question left is this
Am I lying?
Am I lying?...

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My return to the earth
Once slow, now quickened
And what have I accomplished
For I have wasted my existence
Thinking that I had an eternity
And for this now I am sickened
All the battles have been fought, save one
And for this, I have no weapons
And yet if I am to count for naught
And have no sword to carry into the darkness
I can take with me one last thought
The battle scars will hurt no more...

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The venomous bite
Distant, but ever so bright
A nerve doth stricken
A heart so sickened

Melanoma like stature
A rapture like creature
Ruthless and mean
Cunning and keen

Held back three years
No cause full tears
Beatings and bruises
His torture confuses

The light now breaks
From what the bully takes
Fought back with friends
Now the bully defends


*comments welcomed and appreciated*...

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(This is a fictional poem)

My wife fed me baloney sandwiches three times a day, seven days a week.
After five years of eating nothing but baloney, it really reeked.
When people said that I was full of baloney, they meant it literally.
After eating over five thousand baloney sandwiches, it sickened me.
I divorced her and married somebody else but all she ever serves is peas.
Someone shoot me please....

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In everyday I live in 
Is everyday I fight in 
Fight the urges and the desires 
Fight the illnesses and the suffers
Prevent myself from doing the forbidden, the sinful
In everyday I fight in
Is everyday I grow greater, and stronger
To bear my sickened stomach
In everyday I grow greater
I become unforgettable
In everyday I live in 
The closer to death I will become The closer to death I will become...

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The gypsy moth’s nest 
clung like cotton candy, spun sugar;
wet and weighty to the pendulous boughs,
of white birch and maple
a deadly adornment shrouding the forest
in an air of decay.

A miasma of atmosphere
Muffled the morn;
dampening the resolve
mystifying the mundane
multiplying the cloying scent
of fallen leafs;
solidifying the webs of moth and man
unifying the monochrome scene....

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hey you

i'm not me
because 
... because
there was never a puppy
wagging a tail
instead
there were fishes
slippery red ones
herrings 
i think you know
that you kept feeding me
till i was sickened
on my darkest days
... that hurt 
being played on
like i was your spin toy
when all i wanted
is nothing from you now
it hurts being 
the ferris wheel of all
next to your merry-go-round

connie pachecho

2/7/2017...

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