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Down an aisle of every supermarket granulated, powdered and brown sugar
Sucrose, disaccharide of glucose and fructose, or just plain sugar
Jolly Ranchers, Jelly Bellies, Dum Dum lollipops for Halloween
At the circus I'm a child again, face sticky from the pink spun sugar
The riches of the Indies, Alexander, are a honey not from bees
Paradise, the taste of it on my beloved's lips and chin--sugar
Cruise ships white as passing clouds at Canboulay, calypso rhythms born
In genocide and slavery, how bittersweet is Caribbean sugar?
Yet, I and all my lady friends in flowered hats when vicar comes to tea
Smile through our porcelain, say thank you, please, I'd like a cup with milk, one sugar
And what are you, but permanent as juice-stains, rich as syrup, viscous-thick as honey, undefined as sugar?
And who are you, but raw as wound-flesh, curt as cusses, rare and bloody red as carnage, unrefined as sugar?
The church aisle lays upon its back as if a spine-line skeletal with pews for ribs and, so reclined, it shudders.
What lover does it long to hold, whose voice would call back flesh upon its bones to breathe with mercy kind as sugar?
When I — by highest airs anoxic — suffocate in summit-mountain search for you: pray, will you find me, Sherpa?
Dissolve me in your sweet black tea; revive me like its rising steam and melt me like your peace of mind as sugar.
His lavish party: I was underdressed, but no one cared as we on crackers and on biscuits dined with sherry.
Would I be such a gracious host and mercies mine be also cherished, or would mine be but consigned as sugar?
Am I a leper you would also touch and someone you would will to heal, a faithless soul maligned by shingles?
I hold you lovingly as long as I am able — yet within my blood-wet self your loves unwind as sugar.
A sleep-still refugee upon its back took eyelids for its roof and dreamed of what it long had pined for shelter.
What lover does she long to hold, what hunger does his ache embrace — and is it you who fills their kind as sugar?
A lily of the valleys and a rose — like petal rows of countless lives
full peaceably entwined — of Sharon.
Among the brambles, you are, Love, to me like somehow necessary succor
graciously designed as sugar.
I hate that you're part of this war, sugar
And I miss you everyday more, sugar.
Why must people always fight?
So much hate and gore, sugar.
I want you to know that I'm there with you
You're never alone, my poor sugar.
I wish you'd been able to stay here with me,
Why must you settle their score, sugar?
I fear that you won't come back to me,
You'd die for God, country, and corps, sugar.
Without you here I'm a ghost of myself,
I'm neither spice nor sugar.
A child is led by love, honey, crystal sugar,
sunshine smiles — each hook, crystal sugar.
My new neighbor knocks with cup in hand, as if
visiting a thoughtless cook. Crystal sugar.
I searched each page for wisdom, philosophy.
What do I find in this book? Crystal sugar.
The moon passed into winter. Overnight, see
how bright the gutters look — crystal sugar.
When a lover's sweetness dies, what's left
in the heart's dark nook? Crystal sugar.
Grains in your palm, like sifted sand
or salt of life. You shook crystal sugar.
And I, old gray-house lady, stir into this
batter, with stump and crook, crystal sugar.
The sugar cane ripens, burning swaying stalks 'til blackened, it becomes sweet sugar,
The millions in exports overseas perhaps makes the ruined air sweeter, sweet sugar.
I have often tasted a sweet sensation after eating something bitter, it becomes sweet,
Perhaps harvesting cane the quick mindless way makes it seem O.K. — sweet as sugar.
Cute sugarcane train runs on ancient tracks through the cane fields of tall graceful plants,
Toot toot, cheerily throttling along, like us, mindlessly ignoring what is created by sugar.
The sugar mills belch their sweet smoke over the beautiful countryside sickly smelling,
For cakes and sweets to plump an already plump nation, easy on the dollar, ah sugar.
Candy canes, pavlovas, anzac bickies, lamingtons, sweet comfort food names for treats,
Obesity, diabetes, cholesterol, calories, strokes, other names for comfort from sugar.
Cane toads, snakes, frogs, ferels all burning up in that sugarcane sweet fiery stew,
Makes me a little nervous thinking of millions ingesting that toxic soup of enhanced sugar.
I love a good moan and groan as my mind hops into one and all's addiction to desert,
Easier than thinking up romantic notions for a substance so sweet, but deadly like sugar.
Now here is a catch, sweetness is also Prasad and can sweeten the soul and the spirit,
In these times a little sweetening, rather than abusing, maybe we can re-ritualize sugar.
Have sugar as a necessity at the end of each block, to be taken as a 'healing by taste'
Pink crystal healings, cake healings, drink healings, street mandalas at dawn in sugar.
O Raindust; silly. The winds of change will blow it away for increasing is the Kali Yuga,
Just eat it sometimes, keep your thoughts from it's polluting role, sweet innocent sugar.
Ooohh Raindust smells cake cooking, salivating she rushes for her slice of tasty sugar,
Forget heating Earth, burning sugarcane, perhaps eat and have ya cake too. Tasty sugar.