Best Gagging Poems
God allowed him to see through their eyes,
feel their cries,
understand their plight,
with his body, but with their sight,
the alley way shimmered,
the night stars glimmered,
and the man found himself standing in a dark alley,
the stench of decaying rats,
discovered by hungry cats,
raw sewage, old smoke,
could lead anyone to choke,
as the less savory smells
hit him like a blow,
gagging, as he sensed hell,
displaying its best in show,
he steadied himself against a dirty red brick wall,
hearing the hungry call,
as he tried to keep himself from the fall,
his eyes grew accustomed to the dimness,
he glided up the alley as a shadow,
meaningless, but there,
ignored, but here,
if his shadow haven’t been silhouetted on the wall against the light,
he would have been another soul lost in the night.
People passed the alley without so much of a glance,
life gave him no chance,
as he was just another vague outline in society,
just like the abandoned crates and garbage bins all around,
he was just like garbage tossed on the ground,
his silhouette gave no clue on who he was,
just a flickering light,
from time to time just plain out of sight,
God’s strong hands seized his shoulders to steady him,
made him look at the people he once ignored,
made him understand,
that once in a while, people may need a loving hand.
A nobody
Scared by the sound of his own voice
Following the girl home from school
In his mind this is normal
Stalking girls
He grabs her jacket
Pulling her backwards unto the ground
Placing a cloth around her nose and mouth
Gagging her until she sleeps for a while
He drags her through the woods
Branches hitting her every which way he turns
Dragging her along until he reaches the cabin
Picking her up over his shoulders opening the door to the cellar
Locking the door behind him he walks down the stairs slowly
He places her on a chair and ties her wrist to the handles
Tying her feet to the legs of the chair
Tightening the rope around her neck to the back of the chair
He undresses her waiting for her to wake up
Several hours pass
She wakes up
Sweating and screaming
Crying and yelling at him
He places duct tape around her mouth
Placing a knife against her stomach
She groans and yelps
He takes the knife away and looks at her
Grabbing her face and telling her shes beautiful
He turns around and stands with his back towards her
As he starts to say
But its the beautiful people that need fixing
He takes the tape off her face and holds her chin tightly
He carves a smile on her face
Cutting her mouth from ear to ear
Telling her
Smile dear it makes you adorable
He grins and sits the knife down
Laughing as she bleeds
She tries to move her mouth
It just drops open
He looks at her smiling
Now that makes you truly beautiful
He leaves her there for a while
Later returning
Placing a needle with a string attached to it
Sticking it into the skin around her mouth that is hanging open
He stitches her back together
Cant make up his mind
He slaps her and leaves her there for another few days
She sits with her eyes peeled wide open
A tear falling as she tries wiggling her hand free from the rope
As she frees her hand she runs her fingers over her stitches
Only to find out her whole mouth has been stitched together
She cant speak
She can only mumble
She frees the rest of her limbs
Trying to stand up and walk but she's to weak and falls
He runs down the stairs
Yelling at her to get up
She doesn't move
He kicks her in the stomach
She doesn't budge
He picks her up and uses her as a puppet
For his own needs
He then buries her beside his other victims
Only to find out shes still alive
Her hand slips through the dirty old mud
5-28-2013
On sleepless nights I am led
To creep and kneel by your bed
To pray for your mother and me
But grief comes calling you see
Gurgling from its endless base
It explodes out of my face
I shower your pillow with tears
Gagging on primal fears
Barking and spitting his rage
The monster howls from its cage
Backing me out to the edge
Of insanity's slippery ledge
The cord is severed I think
That unseen biological link
Has ripped loose down at the loins
And the wound bleeds from my groin
Like frayed rope snapping on a boat
The mangled end quivers and floats
Out in an endless abyss
Where my demons cackle and hiss
I rant, I plead and I pray
Still you keep drifting away
Hold on, I am with you my son
So tired, let go, it is done
I'm a firm believer
In limerick fever
(This isn't news)
"It'll cure the blues!"
Says Jan (who is no deceiver)
Written by Jan Allison:
Writing limericks is a fine art
Yes I write about poop or a fart
But show me someone
Whose not dropped a ‘bomb’
then from poetry soup I’d depart!
Written by Lim'rik Flats:
Does art mimic life or life mimic art?
Don't ask me, I'm not too smart.
It seems the soup
Has the same poop
As watching the news (or a fart).
Drama and trauma, factions and foes,
Smiting and fighting, (hard on the nose),
Saves me the trouble
Of viewing double
Saves time, and less grief I suppose.
Written by Ray Gridley:
Raise a toast to this collaboration
Whatever your race or your nation
Just write on a whim
Lim'rick Flat's bound to grin
They are all going to be a sensation!
Written by Daniel Turner:
I know a guy called Lim'rick Flats
Writes limericks at the drop of a hat
Jan is his pal
She's quite a gal
They met in a laundry mat
Jan makes jokes about poop
he puts them in alphabet soop
drinks from the bowl
with no self control
which makes him a nincompoop
Also written by Daniel Turner:
Write all the limericks you want
but don't fart in a restaurant
people will laugh
call you riffraff
even if you're a debutante
Written by John Lawless:
oh the limerick it ain’t quite a sonnet
and the learned, they look down upon it
for they cannot grasp
its head or its ass
nor the cleansing effect of its tonic
Written by Terry Reeves:
Late for work she flew out the door
Took an express elevator to the 29th floor
Let some discreet killer farts
Nearly stopped all their hearts
Left them gagging; she'd evened the score
Written by Tim Smith:
Nonsense is here found out in the alley
Five funny lines we'll add to the tally
a smile or two
we laught till we're blue
so put out your best and join in our rally
Written by Alexis Y:
Hey what's going on in the soup?
Lim'rik Flats I want the scoop
What do you have to say?
You got poem of the day
Congrats, I shouldn't have flown the coop
Written by Jean Murray:
John is always fun.
His poems and their puns.
If you need a lift.
He has the gift.
Lim'rik Flats is number one.
psst. How could I not add this to the string? ~ john
It’s sticky and it’s sweet
Limp but I’m sure I could get it to peek
I will linger on it and give you that sweet release
But all in due time, let’s play hide and go seek
I fumble around searching for my prize
I wanted to play but please don’t run and hide
I pout and stick my dewy lip out
You chuckle enjoying the ruse
But never forget you’re the one that got me to sing the blues
I start to search for that impeccable throb
Finding it hiding deep like a cob
I gleam with might
Licking my lips with anticipation and delight
Resting my hands on your thighs
I lean in retrieving my sort after prize
Soft and sleek at first working my way up your peeking birch
A hiss seeps from your clenched teeth
Giving my tongue the accolade it seeks
To run it up and down from thick base to throbbing tip
I let my teeth come out and play
Grinding them up and down your intrepid bay
Feeling you throb and pulse with pleasure
Pushes me on until your length is all I can measure
Gagging on the sheer size, feeling your hands weave and pull with surprise
Pushing and pulling me back and forth
Feeling you quiver yearning for what only I can fulfil
I let you have it and give you the drill
Yelling out my name like it’s pure ecstasy
You let go and pour out your sweet yearning for me
Letting me lick my lips and swallow with glee.
Pungent scent plays on the breeze ~ what a stink!
One I think, makes me sneeze
Gagging with each breath, I wheeze
Because of that moldy cheese!
The swings you go through with a child
Are not unlike a coaster wild.
The terror, stark, when they arrive:
“How do I keep this kid alive?”
“What idiot allowed discharge,
And placed with me a care so large?”
When you have lost all hope of sleep,
And dark depression settles deep,
Then you will wonder in despair,
“How long, O Lord, too much to bear!”
But then, when first she smiles at you,
And suddenly dawn’s light breaks through!
Until the day you feed her meats
And gagging, retching, white as sheets,
You’re sorely pressed by toxic waste,
And all that fondness fades, erased
By thoughts you banish from your mind,
“How could I ever been so blind
To think this nasty little brute
Was a delight, a darling, cute?”
But then she talks, she says your name;
You’re launching to the moon again!
This surely is the pinnacle,
Parental heights you’ve scaled in full.
But comes the dark night of the soul;
Your daughter’s now thirteen years old.
Who is this alien life form?
When will your days resemble norm?
The slightest thing; all hell breaks loose:
A train that’s led by its caboose!
Back on the tracks, to wreck again,
Of late, you pray, “Why, God?” and “When,
When will this horrid phase be through?”
Completely unbeknownst to you,
This phase, designed, the needed fuel
To send her, gladly, off to school.
And then you sit, an empty home,
Berate yourself in brooding gloam
As night falls on parental days
And you imagine all the ways
that trouble will befall your child,
How by the world she’ll be defiled
And grieve and want her in your arms
In safe protection from all harm.
And after school, she needs you less
Until it’s time to buy the dress.
For her, elation and much joy!
For you, “And just who is this boy?”
But as you learn, she’s picked a man,
All goes according to the plan,
And you have this to comfort you,
For it is clear he loves her too.
So for a time, you are at peace;
The cycling has much decreased.
And yet, when they have fully grown,
Then suddenly you want them home.
You yearn for time spent with their kids
At intervals the miles forbid.
And if you’re being honest, too,
You’re hoping they’ll take care of you.
But looking back, it’s all a win;
You’d gladly take this ride again.
"When yesterdays became devoid of compassion",
you became the reflection in my mirror—
the darkness that cast its shadows upon my walls,
the screams that woke me in the dead of night.
Reaching out, silhouettes dissipated into thin air.
When the clock approached the witching hour.
Nothing but my demons were there to keep me company.
Forked tongues whispered insecurities,
poison-dipped lies into bleeding ears,
twisting and contorting what remained
of a false saviour's psyche.
You see, I could not save you from the depths of pain you swam through.
It was pulling us both down, drowning us in murky waters,
choking and gagging on your sins—we kept sinking faster.
The blackness became heavier
until light could not pierce the veil.
Begging me, you pleaded, "Hold on to me just a little longer."
But the weight became unbearable.
I had to untie the rope around our fragile souls.
I had to let you go.
And now I drown in my own guilt
every time I take a tainted breath
in this distorted world.
Percival Tucker rose at noon, then wept,
He ate and then at dusk again he slept,
It matters not what he thought or did say
But where his frail body to rest did lay.
I did not know him well, nor did many;
Yet he was there for all to see:
Pinned by gagging mouths and rolling eyes,
Beaten and bound by subtle sighs.
In the air his voice could be heard
To those that saw the grass draw breath,
But not to us who turned our heads
Whenever his gold tears were shed.
How his eyes did gleam with burning grace,
And how his heart did pulse with fiery love
For the swatted flies and the ants forlorn
That trekked with fear across his dark, cracked floor.
Yet his heart did ache those few long months
Whilst he sat down, beside his phone.
Knees tucked into his bare, gaunt chest,
Listening to the dialling tone.
And the anger he caused that day
To dare delay the ride of Mrs Hayne!
And the horror he caused those kids
As he flung his soul before that train.
The scoffs and groans and sighs
And tuts of dismayed ties
Will amount his bright life
To the eight-minute delay he caused that day.
So Percival will burn with all the rest.
No crowds will weep, nor child protest,
And someone somewhere, yawning at their desk,
Will mark a tally and file another number.
Like cold marble statues
stiff as vague mixtures
of alcohol that stings of spirits,
cheap as famished souls.
Once were unique and proud,
now the vanishing isles!
A struggle to keep adrift
to face the blue sky vast
and unyielding, matching
that deep Pacific Ocean.
Hear us now gagging on
driftwood and rising waters.
Peaceful seas of dreams
where dancing bonitos circle
canoes,surfing freely cruising
with yellow fins in oceans of fun.
Now hear chokes of sinking feelings
and sirens lamenting restless souls.
As sea sprays watered eyes in contrition
someone changed the climate in Iceland
and desert storms rampaged our islands.
Rumblings of constipated volcanoes
longing for release but now stifled by
solar shields torn by man's greed.
As I float amongst the beaches of ghostly
Polynesian islands, the reefs cry out in
protest as navigation comes full circle,
back to 'hawaiki' our 'once was seen'
home of origin, a failed quest reiterating
the original theme of a people that "once
upon a time" existed now once again
A no man's islands.
There’s this
Rotten orange smell
I can’t see the orange, mind you
But it’s somewhere behind
The television screen
I know because
We smell it
We know it is there
Always
I cannot breathe without
Remembering that rotten orange
That hidden somewhere
Moldy fruit
And honestly we were fine before it
We argued over other things and we didn’t
Complain
About fruit
Now I can’t watch tv
Without screwing up my nose
Or gagging at the smell
Without complaint after complaint
Because there’s nothing I can do
And no one knows how he got there
Too far out of reach
And it smells
So
Bad
Over the pine trees the ball I threw
Neighbor’s bay window the ball went through
My neighbor asked me if I would?
Come over to his house, split a cord of wood
In the woodpile see the chipmunk pray
I do not want to be the Bald Eagle’s prey
From the woodpile a gagging scent
A payment my neighbor’s skunk had sent
The first time she saw him was at the coffee shop,
He was staring at her with deep, dark fathomless eyes;
Dressed entirely in black and with movie star looks,
He made her uncomfortable like he could see her soul.
Then one day walking to the store there he was again,
Walking towards her, they passed, he touched her hand;
Electric sparks were shooting up her arm to her brain,
She turned to look at him but he never even turned around.
Then one day on a park bench reading a book, she saw him,
Approaching, she felt like running away but she didn't;
He sat down smiling and introduced himself; he was nice,
They talked for a long time and made a date for that evening.
They had a good time, supper and drinks, she invited him in,
Would you like coffee, she remembers saying;
She was making the coffee and he was standing behind her,
He brushed her hair away and was breathing on her neck.
Kissing her hair, whispering things, his hands on her waist,
Turning her around, their lips met, gently then deeply;
His hands were strong and demanding, pulling at her clothing,
He pressed his desire against her skin, his hands possessing.
Soft bites became urgent and rough, painful; she was afraid,
She was being lowered to the floor, his hands on her wrists;
Gagging her mouth with his kisses, quenching his hunger,
She was a captive, unable to resist; he was in control of her.
His passion was uninhibited, and his words so cruel,
There was no love or sweetness; it was evil obsession;
He was brutal, sadistic, heartless, merciless and savage,
And looking down at her those dark eyes were stone cold.
She never saw him again except in her nightmares.
_________________________
September 8, 2015
Narrative - Fiction
For the contest, Controversial, sponsor, Charlotte Jade Puddifoot
Seventh Place
I always was a fool for you
Eating your lies with a silver spoon
Now I’m on a diet
But you still try it
Gagging me with a new ruse
"The End of America"
remember
when
we danced
our fingers
mapping
velvet secrets
across scorched
skin whispering
smiles encouraging
a little lovely
wanton sin
like we were
playing keys
turning our
worlds over
for words
unlocking
hearts
you could
taste the
salt pools
satin tongues
like book marks
parked in life
tidal pulsing
swelling over
into musky curves
bittersweet
like toffee
we melted
into double helix
spoons
shuffling sides
bending
over like
music sybaritic
needle piercing
into groove
deep stirred
we thought
we could
write
the whole thing
like a never-ending
sticky noir romance
tasting honey
in each other
we burned
like a forest fire
fathoms deep
into what
was encased
in our bodies
our truth
torched
like Liberty
falling
then our world
changed
war soft shoed
it’s blood dripping
lips around the
throbbing dreams
of our forgotten youth
we swallowed
gagging
on the truth
over all too soon
pass the tissues
wiped clean
and senseless
we left the room
before what slept
opened its eyes
rudely waking
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)