Sour Poems

Dreams Turn Sour -TSF

     Princess
     does not
     meet prince,
     never
     happy
     ever
     after

     Perhaps
     a frog
     is kissed,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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

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

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

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

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

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