Best Gulps Poems


Premium Member Beauty and the Beast

Beauty and the Beast

In the deep core of her skin
I feel a human who is no saint  
Cutting out her heart, ripping everything to shreds
Leaving my prey gutless, in every form of sin    (HUSBAND) 
Watch the last beat of her heart as I slowly slaughter your (WIFE)
Thank you for participating as I slowly kill her in every way

Stripping her down, enjoying her birthday suit
Watch as I slice her throat,
enjoy the color red pumping out her neck
She gasp, she gulps on her blood
Gently I reach in and remove her silent tongue
I devour her deepness, for all the beauty you mistook 
Detaching all her limbs before she gave God her grace

I gave her no pity while she gave one last breath
Look at the empty emotions I left behind in her eye
Staring right back, as I  pound a new cavity in her chest
Laughing at her brutal cry!
Confessing, it was time to satisfy the demons within
Chuckle at the  thought, how beauty up and left
Trapped by God's given darkness, 
Depressing abyss no one will miss

Her mind such a waste, a hunger she left behind only I can taste 
Her eyes, I will cut and burn, for allowing him to blind her way-
Her red plum lips, I have sewn shut,  for never speaking up-
Her tongue I swallowed completely
I could not stand the crying of the soon to be slaughtered sheep
Bathing naked in her guts for not defending herself
Plunging out her spine, pricking my finger on her hip
My blood gushing out thick while hers flows thin
Analyzing while mutilating, myself reflected twin

A mistake was to lurk, trapping the beauty within 
Putting her in a coffin, knowing this will dry up the tears
I'm holding up a guard with an unbreakable shell
My prisoner in this body of lust, forgetting the meaning of hell

The women inside is dead, I murdered her long ago
The front I put upon is colder than snow
How can I let her find her Beauty-----------(WIFE)
When she still lives with the beast----------(HUSBAND)

I know her only secret,
That will give her life and brighten her glow
Give her a delicate rose and you will see!
The ugliness will melt, and reveal her true identity 

*Thank you Beast, 
*For reminding me what killed the Beauty 

~5/20/2010~
© Skat A   Create an image from this poem.
Categories: gulps, abuse, beauty, dark, emo,
Form: Epic

Premium Member The Peach Tree

They would ripen all at once
under a hot sun and hang
in a sugary glut only for a day 
or two before starting to spoil. 
I had to be quick and when
the time came, 
I hurried home
from school to clamber up
the tree and seize 
the fruit. Each was a warm, 
engorged globe of flesh 
with just a hint of give 
when a finger was pressed 
into skin.
No command, 
not even from God,
could have held back a bite.

Mouthfuls of sweet peach
sent every pleasure bud
on the tongue into a spasm 
and spilt the overload 
oozing out of the corners
of stretched lips. 
Great gulps 
were hurried down the throat 
to make room for another bite. 
No savoring restraint held
me back, this was volume.
All afternoon
my face and hands 
dripped a sticky syrup,
coating my shirt.

Finally I would have my fill
and sit bloated beneath
the tree surrounded 
by peachstones some still
encased in leftovers 
of pinkish flesh. Sorry evidence
to convict. Afterwards, 
a terrible remorse always
took hold. Next day 
I thought my stomach ache
was punishment from above.
Every year of my childhood,
in the heat of late summer, 
I repeated the same sin,
suffered the same consequence,
hoped for forgiveness 
from a wrathful God.
Categories: gulps, child, god, nostalgia, sin,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member addicted to you -

you course in my veins with prurience, wild
          immersing my marrow in urge, recompiled
               teceptors abducted the instant you smiled
     love's effigy flaming, my sinews defiled
all virtue forsaken, as tears from a child
          fidelity's prospects are henceforth reviled

     I inject you, narcotic - my opiate, pure
a caustic and carnal contingency's cure
          delectably dressed with diabolic allure
               such dermal sublimity, surface demure
     I taste of your shapes, corporeal contour

          skin softly savored, goosebumped and bare
               your tang on my tongue, the nectar I share
     our sugar rush potion for ravishment, rare
mixed in a kiss with the strands of your hair

               your ecstatic delirium inculcates my core
     I'm lost to a lust that's not lasted before
tinged with an aching that day would abhor

               velvet and warm are the walls of your fire
     addicted to you with a crave to be higher

          you are my medicine, the tonic I chug

     I am infected, lubricious and riled
lavished in sensual senses so sure
          imbibing the essence of you without care
               mixed in like poison, I stir you and pour
     swallow in gulps, the consequence, dire
you are my opiate ... you are my drug.

               addicted to you.






~ 1st Place ~  in the "Strand Choice M, Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.

( This is a new form I created named "Minuanetta", with a rhyme scheme of aaaaaa, bbbbb, cccc, ddd, ee, f, abcdef g (title) ).
Categories: gulps, analogy, drug, love, metaphor,
Form: Rhyme

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member Merchant Ship

A swallow swoops for flitting flies
While Johnny rubs exhausted eyes
(As morning clasps the rising sun)
Confirming Captain’s day’s begun:
Slow streams emerge from melting snows -
The Merchant Ship’s in stark repose...

As Johnny frets with tingling tongue
A Vulture fleeces fields far-flung
 (Beneath a bleeding sun above),
And Captain culls the dead with love:
Yes, while the silent water flows,
The Merchant Ship just gulps and grows...

A serpent weaves amongst the weeds
As Johnny dares audacious deeds
(When evening drains the dying day)
To stop the Captain, come what may:
And while the raging rivers grow
The Merchant Ship rocks to and fro...

An owl, a’ branch, has teacup eyes
That glimmer dark as Johnny dies
(Now sown inside the future’s womb)
When flushing Captain to his doom:
Trapped in titanic undertow
The Merchant Ship’s swept down below...

A fledgling bird sprays morning dew
As Johnny Junior’s born anew
(He’s baptised in the dawn ablaze)
To rectify the former days: 
Raw rills arise from melting snow
And virgin rivers start to flow...
Categories: gulps, allegory, morning,
Form: Ballad

Premium Member Hang Over

Just beneath the throat is a hot porridge
the body knocks down but still operate
heat all over, jump into the nearest fridge
sight shivers in its domain so temperate
morning light is covered by one big ridge
aches and weariness don't want to separate
from the stomach to the mouth is a bridge
for a crazy out pour to generate
since last sweet night, the mind is in a flop
quick and short morbidity from its groove
sips and gulps in an interplay nonstop
require the next coffee to disapprove
long consciousness puts the being back on top
back to normal and Life is on the move.
Categories: gulps, abuse, addiction, adventure, art,
Form: Sonnet

Neverthless, Angel of the Night

Her face was the oasis i needed to see
the sands of time draining
when i went to drink
She was gone
mirages of love filled me till i came upon the final dune
on the horizon i found abundant seas of water 
turned foul with the sins of man
yet i drank nevertheless
filling me with the illusion of fulfillment
only to be depleted
tearing away pieces of my mind
yet i drank nevertheless
visions of an Angel graced me as i slept 
She was all too familiar
and yet foreign 
the day brought pain 
wishing to see my angel
so i drank nevertheless
stumbling about the shoreline
i drank
it never filled my thirst
always fleeting
meaningless gulps graced my throat
smoke billowing from my lungs
i drank nevertheless
the Angel returned in moments of passing
time tortured me with temptations
of Her love in the night
i drank nevertheless
sins corrupting my body
as logs bearing mites
corroding, fragile segments fell away in my trails
i could see her coming
the Angel
She fled as our eyes met
leading me from the water
i tried to follow
i tried to chase
nevertheless all for waste
i drank from the water
telling myself i didn’t need Her
Her beauty welded to my eyes
i couldn't leave the shore
as my feet were stuck in shallow sands of sinking
with no rope to reach for 
no help coming
nevertheless
i extended my cupped hand to the now red sea of tempt
and drank
She stopped visiting in my dreams
the songs of Her voice abandoned my ears
alone in despair
i drank nevertheless
the water like a drug
i was now dependent
Life was not the same without this nectar of satan
it ripped out my insides
nevertheless with no stomach to bare it i drank
gulps so large the sea depleted feet at a time
out of reach the water receded 
only kissing the tips of my finger with the presence of a full moon 
so i suckled my fingers as a babe
nevertheless
till my days fled like the sea
abandoned by the pleasure of sin
all my mind came to was the Angel
and nevertheless She was gone.
Categories: gulps, 11th grade, absence, addiction,
Form: Free verse


Premium Member A Smidgeon Too Much Rum

shhhh...please don't tell Jan I tattled on her.

Did you hear 'bout Jan's custard a-la-plum
While making it she drank far too much rum
while on her wobbly legs
put mustard in the eggs
It was wretched and tasted like pond scum

Her hubby asked her for a large serving
But the rum made Jan wiggle while swerving
'Twas a messy mishap
She dropped it on his lap
Jan laughed but hubby found it unnerving

He asked why she thought that was so funny
Jan sipped more rum then said, "Sorry, honey"
She sat upon the floor
and drank a few gulps more
then slurred, "It wath a smidgeon too runny"
© Lin Lane  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: gulps, drink, silly,
Form: Limerick

Best Friends

Lovely books here and there, hug them all
Throw away the digital monster that gulps your brain
and burns you under its harmful rays.
Lovely books here and there, hug them all
To learn with fun, there are so many ways
Adventures, fantasies, histories, comics and many such friends
Lovely books here and there, hug them all.
Neither loss nor pain, they give you only gain.



P.S. : I have never tried new forms of poetry till date and this is my first ever experiment on a Triolet. My humble thanks to Cecelia Crasto for encouraging me to try different forms of poetry. Thank you so much for all your encouragement and support Nana.(as I lovingly call her). This is for you.
Categories: gulps, abortion, books,
Form: Triolet

Premium Member A Haunting Spot

Pearl
rapids
steam cascade 
haunting  canvass 
a red dawn smoulder 
to prise sluggish eyelids 
of zestful bright mood  riser 
who gulps in  rapt awestruck spoonfuls 
of mosaic zone enthralled  enclave 
awash with random sun drenched blue pool plops 
Where giddy children cast green hue pebbles
 as dulcet birds tweet from gaunt elm twigs
and rainbow trouts skim silver streams
wet grass clumps sag on mud banks
a grey fleck morning haze
that scene shift migrant
a spring usher’s
mint leaf scent
in faint,
gust
Categories: gulps, beautiful, beauty, environment, feelings,
Form: Etheree

Premium Member I Smell So Good

They scoop me up, I smell so good.  Others come, and stand in line. People shifting, impatiently.
They pay money, as cash registers sing happily.  Wide pleasing smiles appear when they reach for us.
One starts eating me before she returns to her seat.  She sets me on the ground in a stall for a bit.
Picks me up, washes her hands, and dives in again. Her hands are cooler now, but I do not care.
It feels wonderful to be appreciated. My smell has permeated the theater now. Others are running
Toward the cash registers, eager to give their money, so they can begin diving into my relatives.
I hear my brothers and sisters laughing as they happily crack and pop. My dad smells so tasty!
My mother is smacking in delight as someone gulps her down.  Ugh! A kernel one says.
I watch him spit my kernel cousin Jake onto the carpet. I feel sad as I watch a dustpan get him.
It would feel terrible, rejected like that.  My family is a proud bunch. We are excited that
We are more popular than the stars and shows that brought this crowd here in the first place.
Categories: gulps, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form: Personification

Hard-Work Pays Off

My mother worked hard in bed. She would dig herself out of men’s pockets like a miner. 
Every man was a mine shaft; she always knew what she was looking for. My mother 
always managed to pay for my school fieldtrips just like all the other mothers. I liked her 
for this. The night before the zoo my mother told me to lie quietly and fall asleep. I 
listened. I slept on the edge of our bed like a wrinkled quilt. 		I could hear them: 
thick gulps of sweat pounding like a galloping horse. I remember the bed quaking like 
the broken engine of an old car, the sound of grinding wood and chipped teeth. The 
room started to smell of burning wax. Shadows of two bodies melting into each other. I 
would close one eye. My mother’s legs stretched above his shadow like the reins of a 
horse. I could smell her unknotting her lungs under this cowboy sweat, gripping his 
knees on her hips for support. 		It reminded me of the movies, how cowboys 
ride horses. I could hear their bones echoing through the mattress: frenetic, resilient, 
and faceless. Their bodies tangling like grapevine. The next morning, the sheets were 
damp like wet grass after a shower. And my mother wore her purse like a saddle
Categories: gulps, childhoodmother, me, mother,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member The Kitchenette Motel

Sometimes an
Obsolete 
Old bulb inside him 
Flickers on 
And dimly lights 
His woozy thoughts 
And thirst to write
A song. 

Recall he's human, 
That's to say, he
Thinks he 
Still adheres, 
Not just a washed-up
Singer, missing
Schedules to
Appear. 

The stained and
Scribbled rhymes 
Of scattered nonsense 
On the floor, 
Three gulps of Vodka, 
Bring applause,
Adoring fans,
Encore.



Gene Bourne
06-01-14



.
Categories: gulps, addiction, allusion, analogy, angst,
Form: Dramatic Verse

Archetype

The rock has  iris rainbow  overtones
with pins and needles on our wandering feet
and irradiates flowers and trees that absorb
radio clear  and light-dark energies 


The hummingbird sucks them
the insect pricks them
the cow gulps them down in its grass factory

Insects don´t understand brainy birds…
Who are these giants that fly like them?

Multicolored birds land on cows…
Who are these quadrupeds that emanate milk?
Better to fly, to look at the world below
round and covered with pollen and pollution

The equine understands not , the knowledge of his master
Where to , does he take him riding and riding?
He trusts his affection, strong , warm and secure…
and at the end to rest placidly in the horse feed stable

Humans don´t understand being and thinking…
The All created life, who created the All?
Beyond the universe, rotates an  infinite space…

What a pleasure to sleep and not exist !
Categories: gulps, animals, philosophy, universe,
Form: Imagism

Haiku 8 - Pier Sentinel

aqua water swirls

salt sprayed air licks dry sea oats

quick pelican gulps

Copyright, September 18, 2014
Faye Lanham Gibson
Categories: gulps, bird, sea,
Form: Haiku

Premium Member Crazy

It's five o'clock, she checks her watch, at last the work day's done
Her forehead pounds, a coke is found, she gulps two aspirin down
Walking through the parking lot, a cell phone to her ear
Three calls to make, six texts must wait, until she reaches home

A dreadful day, is worsened now, by a cocktail shade of smog
Too dazed by crazy sitcoms that seem to fill her life,
on an escalator going up or down, to nowhere in the strife

A contrail stream of traffic noise, is brandished against her ears
The snail-paced freeway travelogue, a prequel to the dialogue
that sails into her blue-tooth buds, enhances all that aches
The modem in her deep-fried brain is  in a dismal state.  
Just blogs of malware, here and there, is skyjacked by the haze.

She fails to see a taxicab, in the multiplex of cars
A screech of brakes, a near escape, it's not her first mistake
The rushing, crushing motorcade, can't stop to see her scars

The escapade, the glitzy parade, no shelter from the beat
The drum that pounds, the sounds that come, awake or fast asleep
The docudrama of her life has muddied up her brain
Dumbfounded, by the life she leads, is lost before it's found

Some think, perhaps the gods are crazy, (at least that's what some say)
I think, instead, it's not the gods, but folks who've lost the way 


________________________________________________________
1/6/15
For Contest: "The Gods Must Be Crazy"  Sponsor: John Lawless
Categories: gulps, angst, anxiety,
Form: Free verse
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