Sour Poems | Examples

Premium Member Dreams Turn Sour -TSF

     Princess
     does not
     meet prince,
     never
     happy
     ever
     after

     Perhaps
     a frog
     is kissed,
     perhaps
     a fool
     with his
     laughter.

     Ruby
     slippers
     cannot
     take you 
     home sweet
     home; dreams
     turn sour.

     The hour
     getting
     late, late!
     Shelter 
     now in 
     your strong 
     tower.

Premium Member The Archive for Sour Sorrows

In the vault of sorrows, the lights are dim,
Memories dangle stiff, stark, cold and grim.
In glass-fronted vaults of remains half-dead,
Haunting to avenge losses, regrets and dread.

Bitterness is grit, dust and rust—
Metal relics wrapped in tempered crust.
Too sharp to hold, too old to appeal,
Scars embalmed, behind bars of steel.

Fur skins and feathered bones, long dead.
Eyes once bright, are now glass instead.
Stuffed with pride, stitched in despair,
They rage within riles, gasping for air.

Old garments show arguments, long of old,
With threadbare cuffs, and buttons of gold.
They're sour of fit, and hung too tight,
To ever again leave shadows in bright sunlight.

Such bitterness belongs in museum displays.
Where you can visit it on sad, rainy rue days.
To see such hateful feeling-disheveled, dismembered.
Covered in dust, to be forgotten, not remembered.

Lock it up, behind the glass, don’t let it breathe,
Bitterness will bloom, when we fail to believe.
It should be kept under lock and key.
Where all such sour sorrows, are meant to be.

Meant to be, Meant to be-!
That's the key, That's the key!


WHEN SWEET TURNS SOUR

It hits the tongue without warning
Burns the throat where it once soothed
Makes breathing feel like drowning
You gasp but nothing moves.

Like love
When it shifts without a sign
Leaves two hearts beating strangely
Out of sync & out of time.

The light that once felt certain
Starts to flicker & then to fade
And every step you take alone
Feels colder than the shade.

When a heart slips out of reach
Memories build what truth can’t cross
A bridge that leads to nowhere
Not quite on path, not yet lost.

Premium Member Sour Pickles From New Orleans


His  smelled of semi-soft cheese 
with a low moldy blue undertone 
I had no tolerance for his smell 
for compared to gym socks,
ammonia, 
or barnyards,  
it was pure Eau de Toilet ! 

After a game of indoor soccer   
he'd break wind 
while holding up one leg.  
He smelled of rotten egg 
formaldehyde, 
and sour pickles,  
from New Orleans....

While they chased after him 
with bottles of perfume 
He'd do the armpit fart 
then run away.   
Leaving behind,  
a skunky smell of Cannabis.

Premium Member Sweet And Sour Notes Trimeric

Sweet and sour notes taste just like us,
branded in the lilt of your love language;
From slow jam to that bouncy pick up, 
dissonance is the core of our essence;

Branded in the lilt of your love language
is a heartbeat I haven’t felt before;
Our rhythm's unbalanced yet complete;

From slow jam to that bouncy pick up, 
a whirlwind of world class clamoring;
We push and pull that forte interlude;

Dissonance is the core of our essence,
monotony lacks any dramatic melody;
Fireworks, our combustible crescendo.


Premium Member a 'tyrant-a-sour-ass' rump

be...
in charge
of...the playground now...

and...cries "it's my ball"...
threats
to...

all...
in range
of...a spoiled childs cries...

any good job i ever worked had its
applicant tests for such as relevant
personality and intellectual traits,
technical experience and knowledge

t-rumps's only test was of his greed and bull levels


len

Premium Member Getting Even

Getting Even

Vengeance is sweet.
Is it really?
It tastes pretty sour to me.

An eye for an eye.
Ok, so now both of you have only one eye.
What does that prove.

Revenge is like eating poison and waiting for the other person to die.
This is the best way to describe getting even.
It can be sheer suicide.

Vengeance is a dish best served cold.
I don’t like my food cold in most cases.
So, it doesn’t sound good to me.

With age comes wisdom.
I am old, so I hope I have enough
wisdom not to eat poison or cold food
or lose an eye taking an eye.

Premium Member Sour Milk Gospel

A paper carton 
bloats in the fridge,
its manufactured nutrients 
stretched thin as a lie. 
I pour it down the drain.

The disposal gurgles 
back its curdled skin,
a sour hymn rising 
through the pipes,
fumes of expiration 
smelling like post-partum 
nightmares. 

Amen.

Premium Member Dragonfly Sour at Angel Flower

Hey Alice! Have you,
been smoking the grub's brew?
Think you are a butterfly,
perched on a flower?
Cop the glower,
of livid fire-breathing dragonfly!

Sour Drinks

She'll be the queen of my decrepit ridgeline,
Her crown, heavy with my wasted want.
Never knows best, a fault of design.

Her tensions a dagger, a cunning divine,
A soul-bleeder, god as a vaunt.
She'll be the queen of my decrepit ridgeline.

The arson of anger will never confine,
For the plaid that’s been woven, I a gaunt
Never knows best, a fault of design.

I check the guest list for a name I can’t find,
A ghost of a promise, a lingering taunt.
She'll be the queen of my decrepit ridgeline.

I hate sour drinks, but I chug it all in time—
A golden apple; a jaunt.
Never knows best, a fault in design.

As the season passes, with its cruel incline,
I swallow one more time; her shadows daunt.
She'll be the queen of my decrepit ridgeline,
But never knows best, a faulty design.

8-8-2024

Memories tell lies, 
“Behind enemy lines” is getting caught in my mind.
But “two twos” overslept, 
Behind glossed over eyes the secrets are kept. 

So memories tell lies, 
That you already know. 
My youth kept inside hides, 
That’s something I just couldn’t let go. 
That self supremacy just wouldn’t die, 
Why, 
Oh why shouldn’t I just forget my woes? 

Over obsessively weighing cons against pros, 
The case only gets closed whenever the answers are known. 
Heart beats keep pace, 
Decaying on the longer blood flows. 
Sour and tart, 
Life’s an acquired taste, 
Some don’t mind waiting as the cancer just grows. 
But hearts need to race, 
Down roads with no clue wherever it goes. 

I’m chasing being alive, 
I just know that I’m close. 
I’m chasing down my life, 
To see the “Ro” I miss most. 

Memories tell lies, 
Sincerely yours, 
One of the guys.

Sour Soup Dish

Sour soup dish taste
Better with rice
Add ingredients
To seasoned it.

Sour Milk and Parque Bicentenario

If only we hadn’t been so different
It was so right until it turned wrong
Like milk gone sour
That we had left out the fridge for far too long

Maybe that was what it came down to
Is that we left our milk on a bench
In Parque Bicentenario where we first met
No one else existed, everything made sense
At least that’s what I said to the nightmares that I dreamt

So here I sit writing this
With the milk of our relationship long ago thrown out
And I think about Parque Bicentenario
When I had much, much fewer doubts

Jabbers

Voices ringing with the same story 
Like they did long time ago 
For it's the only thing they know 
It's the only thing they can do
To jabber behind someone's shadow 

Vilifying day and night
They're like parrots jabbering 
About how sour a grape is 
For they failed to plant their own
Or they themselves don't have that kind of value 

They hate beautiful things 
Because they simply can't see beauty in themselves
They only like doing and saying foolish things
Because it's the only thing they know 
Like it brings them ultimate self satisfaction

Love Harder

If loving you harder allowed you to stay then my goal remained the same
All because letting you go was a story words would formulate
It was detriment to my brain
Alter of reality 
To see you leave 
It was the disappearing of what could have been
The end to my timetable of forever and then
A memory to hold 
As our stories unfold
Praying to keep you closer to home
Allowing you to leave, without giving up hope 
Speaking words to the universe adding words to our verse
As pages were written and vows held doubt 
Where those once, roses, dried up in drought
Where our love grew distant and our time ran out
Because loving you harder
Brought continuous showers 
As we drowned in rumored hour 
With eyes on other desires 
Setting souls on fire 
Entered temptation, and
Our love grown sour.

Related Poems

Get a Premium Membership
Get more exposure for your poetry and more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry

Member Area

My Admin
Profile and Settings
Edit My Poems
Edit My Quotes
Edit My Short Stories
Edit My Articles
My Comments Inboxes
My Comments Outboxes
Soup Mail
Poetry Contests
Contest Results/Status
Followers
Poems of Poets I Follow
Friend Builder

Soup Social

Poetry Forum
New/Upcoming Features
The Wall
Soup Facebook Page
Who is Online
Link to Us

Member Poems

Poems - Top 100 New
Poems - Top 100 All-Time
Poems - Best
Poems - by Topic
Poems - New (All)
Poems - New (PM)
Poems - New by Poet
Poems - Read
Poems - Unread

Member Poets

Poets - Best New
Poets - New
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems Recent
Poets - Top 100 Community
Poets - Top 100 Contest

Famous Poems

Famous Poems - African American
Famous Poems - Best
Famous Poems - Classical
Famous Poems - English
Famous Poems - Haiku
Famous Poems - Love
Famous Poems - Short
Famous Poems - Top 100

Famous Poets

Famous Poets - Living
Famous Poets - Most Popular
Famous Poets - Top 100
Famous Poets - Best
Famous Poets - Women
Famous Poets - African American
Famous Poets - Beat
Famous Poets - Cinquain
Famous Poets - Classical
Famous Poets - English
Famous Poets - Haiku
Famous Poets - Hindi
Famous Poets - Jewish
Famous Poets - Love
Famous Poets - Metaphysical
Famous Poets - Modern
Famous Poets - Punjabi
Famous Poets - Romantic
Famous Poets - Spanish
Famous Poets - Suicidal
Famous Poets - Urdu
Famous Poets - War

Poetry Resources

Anagrams
Bible
Book Store
Character Counter
Cliché Finder
Poetry Clichés
Common Words
Copyright Information
Grammar
Grammar Checker
Homonym
Homophones
How to Write a Poem
Lyrics
Love Poem Generator
New Poetic Forms
Plagiarism Checker
Poetry Art
Publishing
Random Word Generator
Spell Checker
What is Good Poetry?
Word Counter