Sickeningly Poems | Examples

Achoo

The sickeningly sweet perfume irritated his nose
That flirty scent of fake flowers, imitation rose
Lingered in his nostrils too long, what a tease!
It tickled, he could not help but to sneeze.

Hide of Tyke in Hold

Heartthrob in damsel drag
Belief of human bile
Completely instilling cascading dregs of mechanical flesh, bones and spit
64th avenue 
And coiling deft doom
Winged balls of bulging blood and speckled steel
Merry wails and flutters of moths unsealed 
Fitted upon falling kneel
And reckoned release of rotten roadkill-
Rats and babes and brats
Congealed candy and sickeningly sweet brandy
And hailed light of epiphany to choke, swallow and spit
And strangle without a hand nor handle but grit
Of groil and crevices of menaces heralding honed notes
And a lone liver in fathered infirmary 
Black backed in breachers 
Potted a bulge to indulge the fickle maggots of dissociation 
Emulsification and hearty sniff of 
Whitened slice and slithers of snow
Dregs to drag and hone and throw
Up upon bedded saline laden road
Of rows and rows and pounds 
That drag rotten flesh afresh from the hound
Sutured from spine to fluttered wing
The hide
Plucked apart from rat to brat
And collared collier stepped afresh with new hide and throw 
And stubborn stubbled child with a new mind in tow

5//5//2025

Mother

  welcome this heart,

    congenitally, sickeningly loathed

   not even clothed, leave her threshold.


brought into the world, a radial embrace 

   cradled in the rain, slapped across the face.


scapegoat of the mother, never far from the tree

    saddled in pain, crawling formlessly.



carry this apple, take a crisp bite

  sour and cold, not even ripe.


now welcome this heart, 

   bitter and mindless,

feed on the fright



frigid as marble , scorched as a star

    feed him dirt, never far, never far



arachnid fangs descend, venomous reign

    eat your own infant, drown in the rain;


then do it again, 

                  again, 

                      and again.

Stop the Presses

              My Message to the Media


Brave, staunch Israel, will rise in the end!
After painful losses, victory shines ahead!

You media, laugh and paint Israel all black.
Of moral integrity, you do sickeningly lack.

Have you no shame, as Mother would say?
Do you think a pogrom is a game to play?


                      ~ Poem 1~
                        3/10/2024

Obnoxious

Farewell to torment, wretchedness, and uneasiness

                      The clashing edge is filled with horrendous obscurity

              A depressing and sickeningly feeble nothingness

  That steers us growingly close to looming doom


* This is a form I call "Liberum Divisa", and it's composed of a four-line verse taken from a Free Verse poem of mine called "Trust Dust Withstand Death", written on February 21, 2022. *

Liberum Divisa 8 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Gregory Richard Barden

Abeyance

Flying scorching skies,
Another rescue,
Another promise it so seems.

Used again and again,
Then tossed away each time.
Yet I can’t seem to reason now.

My finger to my lips,
I silence the cries of pain,
Stirring within me,
And tell myself I’m helping.

And in between my lives,
I wander stone-cold, grim,
And wonder if I’ve somehow died,

Repeating the same labors,
Day in and day out forever,
Until I’m called again,
To swear a new honor,
Or a new love to throw out,
Away into the starless night.
And it’s so familiar now,
Sickeningly I admit.
And yet I cannot abide,
In these toils so maddening.

So I wait in suspense
For the next abuse
My wings are folded
I’m falling from the sky
Beneath their eyes, those light-years away

Bleeding into each other,
Separate days no longer are.
Wishing my next vow would come
Despite its future cost

Rent from my passion.
Alas, abeyance,
Is all that’s left for me now.

Jingles

do not simply dawdle and diddle
for life may pass as a twinkle 
hardly any time to drag and dawdle
in life, joy and sorrow may mix and mingle
before your powers diminish and dwindle, 
enjoy it wilful as a child cheerily toying with shingles

for a change, play on the flute or fiddle 
and on your toes, twirl and twiddle
or go for a walk with your funny, furry poodle 
or write a peaceful placid idyll,
could even be a distrait doodle 

life that is a tricky and ticklish  riddle
is never a puddle for you to muddle
but is to clasp, caress and cuddle 
let it ring with a jangle or jingle 

even when you are sickeningly single
smile, showing your dented dimple
as stars in the sky wink, blink and twinkle


Sep.1.2022

First published in 2021
~ Placed Second~
Alliteration- Old or New Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Joseph May

Once Upon a Time

Started a blank canvas for people to stain,
Made to be perfect, sickeningly plain.
Somewhere I started taking my own train,
Trying to go against the grain.
But everything I do is always in vain,
Because they hold me like a chain.
I tried to start over and run from my pain.
Behind jokes and irony, nothing but strain.
Three weeks locked up for being insane,
And they still look down with disdain.


9/27/2019
For the "The Story of My Life in Ten Lines" Contest
Sponsored by Silent One

The Bitter Seed

I fear for you,
much as I fear for me
or for others like me
who may be here
for longer than I’d like to be.
But more than that,
I fear for you
nearly as much as I fear you.
The world so big
and overpowering and cruel,
and you so small
and young and exposed.
We’ve ruined you, I think,
and all that we’ll leave you
is just as badly ruined.
I fear for me
as I fear for those like me,
and I fear for you,
but more than that,
how sickeningly I fear you.

15th Match 2019

Memory Go Round

Memory Go Round

I’m on the Memory Go Round
Repeating every thought and sound
Yet no answer is found
Inside my brain I feel my heart pound
My clock tick talking
Because it’s too tightly wound
On this circular motion I’m bound

Yesterday today and tomorrow 
are bound together by sorrow
Up and down motion quicksand slow
Capitulation inside my brain
Questions to answers I’ll never know
The Memory Go Round horror show
Infusing my being head to toe
Each turn feels like another blow

Riding toy horses with maniacal eyes
Memories sickeningly familiar I despise
Reigns held tightly as I hold on with my thighs
Feeling the fear inside me sink and rise
I smile at distant pretty musical lies
while wondering if pretending is all that wise
Then with each rotation my inner child dies
And no one cares when he cries

It seems that familiar doesn’t provide rest
this Memory Go Round is my test 
Other’s crimes will never be confessed
on these funhouse images I’m obsessed 
Rotating from East back to West
Paint peeled and yellowed, wood splintered
I must get free, time to jump off and be blessed.

Genz

This generation gives me grief
We make jokes to laugh off our pain
And the people that say they’ll be here for us
Are never there when we need them most
We are a generation of giving too much,
Not enough,
And sickeningly poor timing,
Because we are so generous
But need time for ourselves when others need us
We are a generation of living
Too much in our hearts
Or too much in our brains
Parted in the fact that we’ll never think the same
We are a generation of self-love
Laced in with self-hate
“Loving ourselves” when we use bath bombs 
But complaining how ‘fat’ we’ll be
After we talk about what we ate
We talk about people we miss
Even though we were the ones to shed the leaf
I couldn’t make too many examples of why
This generation gives me grief

Her Painting

She once painted a picture of a girl who wanted to fly, 
Jumped right off the canvas and took to the sky.
Her brush nothing fancy just a dull chipped blade, 
nothing more to do now than watch her paint the page. 
She's an artist...
Ink swims through her veins. 
She could paint forever because she controls the pain.
She's a natural, 
watch the way the canvas comes to life. 
peels itself from the fabric as the blood begins to dry..
its beautiful, sickeningly so. 
looks just like water color as the paint starts to flow.
relief crawls over her skin as her painting takes its shape,
blurring at the edges and her hands begin to shake..
She's dizzy now and her painting begins to fade, 
this is her masterpiece and shes no longer afraid.
She's ready,
it all started with a paintbrush, a simple dull chipped blade..
nothing left to do now. 
Just to clean the mess she made.

Face the Shame

I sit enveloped in a fog
That never breaks but for the rain
Of salty tears and oozing blood
I've loosed from yet another vein.

While all around me lovers kiss
And mothers give their babes a change
New love, new clothes, each a fresh start
I see as sickeningly strange.

I crave the putrid and the shunned
The dusty corners webbed and dark
A bottom dweller, fetid form
Cast out from every patriarch.

I am not fit to walk this earth
Indwell this body I sear in
I am ruined, unfit, unclean
My bulging middle screams my sin.

If I had the strength to end it,
But Evil bids me to stay on
And face the shame I cannot speak
Birthing my brother and my son.

8/22/2016
For contest: Five rhyming stanzas and five only

Rhyme scheme:
ABCB

Subconsciousness

Big black room,
 No physical presence around,
 Only shivering cold in the air.
 The scent of fear and anger,
 The lingering feeling of loss,
 Feeling of abandonment and despair,
 The madness floating around.
 Love, there is love in a small corner,
 Devotion pushed against the wall.
 The naive little giggle of the child,
 It can be heard if you listen closely.
 Sweet, sickeningly sweet stench of pleasure,
 Of guilty addictive pleasure lingers,
 Engulfing everything, 
 Its fumes poisoning the air.
 The mortal soul lives in here,
 With all of this it lives.
 It still breathes it all, 
 melts in it.
 Waiting for the end,
 Hoping it will come soon, 
 the eternal rest,
 Till the end will come, will end it all

Oh Younger Self

Oh Younger Self!

Don’t be behind at saying what you want, 
Just because you never did have the font, 
Regression exists in us if we fail to specify, 
Objectifying later, our questions to quantify.

Believe only in the people you trust and obey, 
Don’t quantify because you’re in the minority, 
Remember what you’ve got, media and friends, 
Treasure your relationships to make your own ends. 

Just be short-sighted, only aware of the now, 
Don’t aspire to be godly or sickeningly high-brow, 
Crimp what you like but is wrong multitudinary, 
And don’t equate true morality with the binary.

Exclude yourself to discuss your mind and trueness,
Freshness is in people who flow with goodness,  
Be rejected, make do and accept low facilities, 
Happiness is in your real desires and proclivities.

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