Toxic Treacle Poem by Norman F. Santos

Toxic Treacle



The verisimilitude of grandiose
Sprawled in a perfidious repose
On the bassinet of filth
Of infinite clockwork:
A fairytale or drudgery,
And the ephemeral mirth:
Sufficient enough to be grandiosity
Parallel to my atrocious veracity
I need the treacle poison.

I want to touch your face
As everyone else does
But frost bites in your iron mask
Can I graze the quelled sun
Beneath the facile veneer?
Because as much as I despise you
I want your lethal treacle
To meander in my plagued throat
I need the treacle poison.

Because I am so alone
That I hate people for carousing
Whilst I squander in a soliloquy
With my own loneliness
Now abandoning me
As the dawn rouses at four A.M.
And jealousy notched in
In my solitary confinement
I need the treacle poison

I wanted to cradle a poetry
But I never had the facility
I have never been anywhere,
I have never been anyone;
Please, cut the cord of this soliloquy
Because I can be very cold
To my bleak incertitude
Yes, I do abandon myself
For I need the treacle poison.

Friday, December 11, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: poetry
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
Circa December 2011 - Experimental poetry
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