A sweetness so sour

Oh what a tantalizing little world this is;

How the brittle, pretty face stares at the succulent sugars

And the bingers, binge and bend and hover over porcelain bowls, emptying their stomachs of figure-dementing contents

Just as the preachers perfect daughter throbs from somewhere deep beneath conservative fabric

And the relentless adolescent boys’ heated urges emerge

 

Oh, for it all cannot be stifled

 

Like when the thief’s fervent fingertips tickle at the touch of new material; neatly lined-up upon silvery shelves

And how the naïve girls’ tear ducts  drain into her dirty palms, gleaming with something lethal

And the smokers respiratory-system aches for nicotine’s kind attention

Just as the twitching fists of a fighter long to mutilate

And the failing student cannot force his eyes away from the page that lies on an adjacent desk

A life where the idea of consequences melt away as the white little pill slides down your tongue and into the black hole of your throat

 

 

For everything tastes sweet until you get a lick of what ensues behind closed doors .

Author's Note

Sorry about odd the lines, I'm pretty technologically challenged and had no idea how to get them away.

Reviews

[Takeshi Yamada]

Hi Lexyeff, your poem was recommended to me, so thought I would review it!

I really liked your word choice. You use words that are evocative, yet do not go "over the top" or push too hard, which is something that is often a problem for young writers who delve into topics that are "angsty". You seem to be able to select the "right word" with natural skill.

This is a steamy piece...the images of church and conservatism and "perfect preacher's daughter" aside words like "throbs" and "heated urges emerge". This is definitely raising my blood pressure here. ;)

So many lines here that I like, but this one was notable: "how the naïve girls’ tear ducts drain into her dirty palms". I like the expression you used of the tears draining into her palms, dirtied, and the naïveness of her.

Lastly, I think you wrap this piece up nicely with a bit of wisdom for the reader to take away - that behind all sweet things awaits a sour experience "behind closed doors".

Have you heard of the artist Tom Waits? Many of your phrases are reminiscent of a style similar his. In particular, your poem made me thing of this song/poem "Small Change" by Tom:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CKhGmD80xoI

The written word can take us places that audio or video cannot - into the minds of people, as you do here, each indulging in a "guilty" pleasure with the desire for fulfillment, though the pleasure may be short-lived.

Last suggestion, if you want to get rid of that gray formatting issue, you can select all the text in the textbox and paste it into the Notepad app (if you use windows). That will remove all the formatting when its pasted to Notepad. Then copy it all again and paste again into the poem's textbox and save your poem. It should have all the grayness removed. Let me know if that didn't make sense. lol

Really great poem! PLease keep reading and writing. It is a gift to share what you have inside with the world!