Best Gutteral Poems
Ohhhhh Electic touch shock my body awake
Arched back and gutteral moans
Shivers sweep my skin like circling tongues
Ohhhhh scream beautiful wild sounds
I can not lie still, nor think
Thoughts escape me and I - I - I - ohhhhhhhh
Ohhh Rapid touch
Torment me till I am begging
No, no, no more I can not take it
I shake my head in mock protest
Unable to contain, control -
I have no control and ohhh
Oh yes, oh yes, yes, yes
yesyesyesyes oh yes, ohhhhhhhhhhhhh
Toes curl and eyes squeeze shut
Tingling body my face is flushed
My head dizzy and I am ohhhhh
Ohhhhh, ohhhhhh, I am high
Inibreiated on your touch
And ohhhhh, ohhhhh you have not yet
Even entered my warmth with your
Ohhhhhh, your touch drives me to the edge
The edge of sanity,
Shattering the world into a jaged blade
And I forget whatever words I am about to say
Ohhhhhhh, mmmmmmmmhhhhhhh, ohhhh I am blabbering
I am ebullient, I am oohhhhhhhh - overflowing
Quickly you slide between spread thighs
Slick and wet with sweet ambrosia
Hard your pelvic hits mine and it is ohhhhhhh
Ohhhhh I am losing my mind
Rapidly I am approaching - approaching - aahhh
Ohhhhh, ohhhh, God yes, God,
Head thrown back, nails pulling your hot skin closer to mine
You ravage my body over and over
Waves flooding my senses - so overwhelming
You pound into me faster and faster
Till it is impossible to tell where one ****** begins and another ends
Ohhhhhhhh, my brain is numb with hot sexual desire
My lips are wide with laughter, sweet bubbily giggling,
Bottomless, Abyssal moans - voluptuous and husky
The squeak of lascivious screams piercing the night
The days are long and unproud, they brood...
and please not the weary soul wearying in its wake;
when gnashing snow and rain bite
cold and bitter nights ---
smite the weary traveler soul
The spray of oceans fierce, the tattered sail
and shattered galleon hulls,
whipping winds above the dead below the waves,
heave torrid warning weeps,
to forgotten realms...
to misty denizens deep,
buried 'neath the seas
Fathom after fated fathom, bugle from mermaids call,
belated beckonings, doom from harp ringing culls;
'ere the storm ends many men;
they sound the trumpet and bugle ---
and sea urchin minstrels again,
'ere the storm ends many men
The masts seem as wooden-braced ghosts;
shackled to grimly merchant (boors) for sailor eyes ---
aghast for Captain Bold and his pickled laugh ---
To the eye! Straight on! Through her gutteral seas we go!
'ere the storm ends many men
The crest of waves rise monolith and mighty,
scolding beam and soul,
lancing forthwith all aboard ---
visions of ill-fated meagre pay;
of wife and child far and away,
forgotten faces...
lost in venomous haze
Terrible is the vanquished soul,
smitten to meaningless display,
needless heroics of Captains Bold,
(summoning water thundered fates)
sleeping seas,
then silence...
sweet silence...
***Dedicated to the sailors who lost their lives at sea***
The river smells like damp cotton this morning,
the weather has been so complimentary to our exertions
frost invades the nights nicely and soft sunshine comforts our faces in daytime,
we have been averaging 26 miles per day for more than a week
which gives us fat optimism that we'll reach the he Mandan villages before November,
our sense of serenity and ease is abruptly shaken by a suspicious sight,
from the boats we notice , not far inland
a settlement abandoned to arid earth and the whispers of sullen fate,
with a detachment of 12 men
this broken place in paradise is searched
with the circumspection of armed archaeologists,
from wood and rock totems
we have surmised that this village belonged to the Arikaras,
evidently, they systematically left here, or were decimated by some terrible force,
a gutteral roar rips into my ears
as I see the most monstrous beast of my life,
it is the great grizzly bear, wicked in temper and simply petrifying in stature,
about 40 yards away Sheilds stumbles out of an Arikara sod lodge
as the grizzly emerges from it's liar, standing upright like a tower of terror
fangs in the air and claws ready to thrash
Sheilds buries a slug right into it's chest from 10 feet away
sounding like a large stone plunging deep into water
white panic stretches his face while the beast stammers for a moment,
there is no time for him to reload
and he starts running to the canoe faster than a fuse
several of us take aim and unleash a crossfire of lead
pegging the bear every which way halting it's chase
and with the speed of a two horse wagon it's running to the brush,
we forgo the hunt and evacuate to the canoes,
enough has been seen here,
J.A.B.
If I suffer from an affliction
If I stutter
If my grammar is gutteral
If the words I utter
Failed English at School
Sorry I am not cool
Pity me or the fool
Who uses education as tool
To dismiss what I write
Because it is not spelt or gramatically correct
As you supersede the common collective
Consciousness up for discussion
My feeble poem tried to address
Your disregarding says it best
Speaks volumes
Look at me
Mother Superior
Administrator of the Interior
Sub Editor for closed book's
That overlooks
And overseas
Conservative committees
In self righteous sicophantic indignation
No correlation can unearth
Or has no worth
For the meek
Who seek
To interject
Blazers and Ties
Ivy institutions for fear of exclusion
Poison classes wood trenches
Desks protect from xenophobic zeitgeists
That conform to questioning
"Alpha Mnemonic"
Word
Image
without the image
no word
Language
a disease
communicable
by mouth
Alpha from brain
Omega passed
on her tongue
to yours
Ancient codex
genetically kissed
dispersed with
music intonation
gutteral
romantic
cerebral
never rehearsed
language
a virus formed
Mnemonic
from where exactly,
Within?
ad lib
ad lucem
ad libitum
from somewhere
other birthed
codex ancient
Alpha alien
genetic
hive driven
we are observed
writhing in our smalls
amphibian brained
we are still
loud embryos
clashing and clinging
unjust
we are
just learning exotic
movements
within our
blue pitri plate
circular in motion
we are agitated
not calm, chasing long versed
pre-recorded, re-rehearsed tales
a breath blown over us
language divides us
in love and belief
a disease
we are
we think
we speak
we spread
our languages
communicable
by eyes that
envision dreams
of others within
we are not knowing
with clandestined
futures and
over-ripe mouths
to succour
we simulate
ad lib
ad lucem
ad libitum
sensual
cold
science
hot and feverish
we lie
in bed
with irreverent
romantic fate
Omega
ohm resistant
high voltage
across the conductor
Always equal
Metaphors of unity
become
the Sequel
Blissfully ignorant
Ripe Red currents
juiced up and
Blue buries itself
warm palmed
on a soft beating breast
Ideology and
Romance
arrive
late
Memory
lost in the
Alpha
Mnemonic
Stuck in
the warm
and sticky
we grow cold
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
"Language is a Virus" / Laurie Anderson
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hIOnODxUTZQ
A new day perhaps, of immeasurable tin, sound of din
A hurricane noise, a thrall of riotous cuts, although thin
The blood-curdle choke of rage from before
Now purchased like plasma from the needle store
Go hump yourself, If you want my schtick, you vampire whore
You’ve had enough since the Garden, Lillith, you’ll not get more
Now the ratio between human, vampire, dragon and other dead
Has been cast with fair radiant echo against the nuclear thread
A shroud sewn with Alcubierre’s hand and Teller’s eye
Will re-write the laws of your time to die
Not forced by the forced prison of your local priest
Or enticed by Babylon to take part in it’s wicked feast
The work that was promised to Adam and re-framed unto Cain
To un-curse the valley, glen and land: to filter Acid from Rain
With thorns o- the rose coming loose from the Bush
And snakes running hither or thither in scintillate Rush
The Oracle of Satan found new charms to spread in perfect Cube
Could be the shape of Sound Maynard or Max’s Cubic Rube
The Time of Orwell Now and Jobs spelling Apple at his Side
And Sting writing programs for the Cops, whom along for the Ride
the Bladerunner checkin for humans among the technical horde
Huxley detected the separate spirit, lobotimized souls, Model T Fords
And Harrison checked again with electric sleep on the Brain
A tear for Summer, or a vision for Canticles, a wave almost Inane
With countless ages past since the Dust of Sumer lent
It’s hell-bound rasp of gutteral destruction spent
The awful wave of gas, a riotous nuclear blast
In the once Green land where sage grew fast
The dim spectre of time has given up the ghost
With markets bazar and material plenty, yet consider the cost
From Alabaster bone the Ocean’s a-shallow
The Mermaids remember the times that were fallow
Year upon year the bi-peds walked without aim or deed
That could count for fullness, even yet upon steed
Even in those ages of lore when upon horse they’d trot
Or with Gasoline chariot to the park like Mel Ot
None could account for the empty space of land
Or like Kieth Stone, bend down and till without turning into sand
The eidolons of time, immemorable: drooping, eternal clocks
An echo of murmurs, drogue and sorrow, indifferent as the rocks
Whom would not cry out, with refusal of price
None could garner their strength or bleed them twice
Soul Sounding
I have felt my soul
Solid
Within me
Lighten,
Ascend
Into God’s focus
Into communion
That all my spirit and being
Be known by Him…
Thus, often I have heard
My soul to coo, to whisper,
To resounging sing “Alleluia!”
But
Many battles have come
So my soul shouted — imploring —
Though wordless, more
— like a fledging’s shrieks
And
In many hours of weakness
I have Felt and Heard my soul’s
g r o a n i n g
that all-being, transcening,
supplicating weeping
Always answered by ABBA’s strengthening
Enfolding.
Then
In this extreme physical pain,
In this recent onslaught of unknowns new
that finds me weak and meek
facing giants who claim rule over my limbs,..
Yesterday,..
Twice
As they were treating me,
I heard my soul — low and constant —
g r o w l i n g
About which I had to seek biblical reference,
because in anger, growling is sinful.
Tho, I say truly and newly within
My soul’s so sounding there was the comforting
No words could speak.
Was the interior presence and noticed warmth
Of a kind of Mother Lioness
Shielding
Which i actually envisioned while I heard
and felt the gutteral sounds;
While I heard people there in the room
say, “Buck-up, Sally. Hush!”
About which I did feel quick anger,
For i could not have been trying any harder
With my tried and weakened strength;
Trying to keep my body still —
All my remaining efforts being spent in prayer,
Repeating, “Lord, have mercy.”
There was in fact
Comfort
Coming
Like a blanket, covering.
My soul’s defending, guarding, audibly
— Growling —
(Interior notes-of my mothering God,
newly known, as never before, consciously within me)
Lion of Judah…Beckoned Lioness
Over the soul, Christ within…
I heard growl…
—————————————————————————————————————
(c) sally you ng eslinger 3/18/23
Thanks be to God,,. ****
For additional info, please see my blog for this date on PSoup blogs.
~OF AN MIDNIGHT BLACK~
'TWAS TH' DARK'ST OF NIGHTS,BOURNE OF AN UN~HOLY EVE...
AS BLACK~FALL SEALED IT'S WOMB,TH' MOURNING SKY HAD SLIT IT'S VEINS
AN VENOMOUS MIST SPAT ASP'LY,'GAINST TH' PANES OF MINE HAUNT
OF NO QUESTION I CONFIRMED,THIS AFFAIR WOULD BE NICHE'D IN ARCANITY
MI'OL GRAN'DAD CHIMED,PROUD N' TRUE~11~12...13!?...AS TIME STOOD STILL...
AN DEATHLY SILENCE SHRIEKED,SPEAR'NG THROUGH MY SKULL'S SOCKETS
TH' PAIN THEN BORED TO BASIS,AS IT LOCKED LEECHLY TO ME IT'S HOST
IN AN SUDDEN STROKE OF TRANCE,MY FEAR WAS FORMED INTO FEROCITY
TH' WALLS WHICH HAD CONFINED ME,BURST AGAPED TO OBLIVION...
APPROACHING FROM TH' DISTANCE,GUTTERAL GROWLS SPLICED TH' STILL
AN JET PENUMBRA LUNGED,STEAMING FROM TH' GRAVE DEPTH'S FRIGIDITY
WITH NONE FEELING FOR FLIGHT,I LEAPT DETERMINED FOR TH' CLASH
GNARLED DIGITS GRASPED FIXLY,TO DENY ME MINE BREATHS...
CRIMSON SPARKS SPEWED,WITH EACH BLOW I SEQUENCED TO IT'S FORM
BLOODY FUME REVEALED MY RIVAL'S IDENTITY...TH' ONE TOO FAMILIAR FOE
AS VISIONS OF HIS PURGED PREY,APPENDED ME AN HATRED SMITHED BLADE
WITH EACH HEW I RENDERED,SOULS GUSHED FROM OPEN WOUNDS...
ADHERING THEMSELVES TO MY BEING,AS ATTENDANTS FOR MINE SCOURGE
AS TH' BEAST'S PATE BECAME SEVERED,HIS CLUTCH WAS THEN RELEASED
OF THAT MIDNIGHT MOST BLACK,I WAS JUSTICE...WELL SERVED
~AZAZA~'09
Something creeps through my room
in the dead of night
hovers in the air
but out of sight
Whispers I hear
a strange gutteral sound
wind swept curtains
swirling 'round and around
is it my imagination
or do they laugh at me
sending chills up my spine
are they coming for me
a shadow I see
out the corner of my eye
disappearing again
when I cringe with a sigh
I dare not move
lest they find me now
can they see the sweat
that slides down my brow
these things that I feel
are they really there
do they want to be friends
or just want to scare
something sweeps thru my room
in the dead of night
hiding away
wiith morning's first light
but tonight when it grows dark
they'll creep back to me
shadows from the past
that I care not to see
©NLB
8/2/07
Face like a smacked bum, is profile challenge no 1
Bland of form, tunnel like mind waddling gait, naff behind
Hidden like cancer in worlds health, there is a very malignant self
schwabing decks with filthy mop, disturbing life and this must stop, stop' this gutteral talking being devoid of any love
Or genuine feelings!
Breath deep,
Close your eyes,
A grown man seldom cries.
Hold it in,
Bow your head,
Before first tear is shed.
Turn around,
Hide your face,
Find an isolated place.
Close the door,
Lock it fast,
Finally, alone at last.
Break down,
Let it out,
Begin with a long shuddering, inward sniffle,
Somehow triggering the nose to run,
As if the tears we're bound to fall.
Open your eyes in pain,
Let the floodgates flow,
Breaths stuttering in and out,
As you begin to ball.
First a whimper,
Moving to a heave,
Then a drawn out moan,
Ending with a gutteral howl.
Pause for a moment,
take your time,
When ready, open the door,
Walk down the hall,
As if nothing happened at all.
10/05/17
Remains of the Day
Sometimes one has to fail: or live with a constant search for a something-someone-somewhere. Then fail. Or take more years dreaming of that old flame or the new hottie you espyed in the bookshop. Sometimes we get at least something before killing it in the sad eyes of your backladder. Or Blackadder. My snake coils through my belly hissing tongue to tail tumbling under my gutteral vertabrae.
The time is here. Of black-clad orphans singing into darkness moon shadow where I kiss the lips and mouth of love found; if not for good but for now. NightDark Witch-her title or the more casual Vampiress- Morgana. She/It meets most of my requirements minus a few unimportant items. Shattering glass with those poisonous green pupils she spooks me and I know it’s deliberate. Only having met her through the window her whispers caress my neck and I feel my throat being held. Really tightly. ‘Hail oh dear Lord you are doomed I will stalk you til your very heady death! Wait your time oh fearful yes fearful not fearless nobody’s friend!’
Chandeliers crash thrashing onto the floorboards opening her entrance the formidable one. We stalk stumbling through the grounds of the church blood-red sunset stays and shadows with lights on my body. She’s a Goddess as well. Coming for the circle of life and me.
I’m tied up and stranded. Come hither my mistress! Holler into the night..as the light remains. Falling star landing in Texas. Missed us by a second. I rest my head on twigs bound like a sack.
Waking up to her kiss and the first bird call who is received by a lover’s coo. A deer runs past the lake. It’s morning in underground hellfire. Hell here or be free over there! Quick make minds up two minutes before choking time.
I shall never believe in one other’s charms. Go forth with your dogma.
I fly out onto roofs swooping across grand hills tree-topped inner forestland I perch.
Grief lasts for a little while.
Its hurt does beguile.
Nightmare’s fog released, ‘where am I’
A torrential fracture of the sky.
Indeed the steps, you can’t deny,
as you’re not ready to say goodbye.
You still feel the hand you held
Now two minds of loved ones meld.
Denial is a named storm,
thunder and lightning forms.
The rain will not abate —
racehorse is out of the gate.
Anger crosswinds erupt.
Sirocco cursings abrupt.
The perpetrator served on a platter.
Onto anyone in the way it will splatter.
Bargaining, a gutteral plea for a sign.
Oft comes from grieved with a deadline,
sans stopping to smell the flowers,
though abounding with blessing’s showers.
Depression though butterflies flit about,
scents and does appear with shouts,
the grieved only wants to hold her or him —
the unending longing for a loved one is grim.
Acceptance, in mind-numbing closure,
can’t think too hard…maintains composure.
One can talk about him or her with smile
The truly hopeful believe in a meanwhile…
Heaven is truly the last step of grief.
It is the only appeasement that brings relief.
12/10/2021
I cant seem to move from this place
The scratching down the hall persists
Its as if the dark thing were inching itself closer
Its blood stained teeth digging themselves into the stone
Dragging itself forward
Its gutteral growl
a deep
droning
rhythm
Screams of promises in exchange for mercy
Bound hands offering up empty deals for either a few more breaths or the sweet embrace of death
Howls of minds
splintering
as madness takes hold
These are the lyrics.
The walls know this twisted lullaby all too well
Death rattles are no stranger
And here I lie
Knees drawn to my chest
Curled up beneath this blanket of sound
Nightmares whispering 'sweet dreams' as shadows tuck me in
I find comfort here
I find peace
I find something stronger than myself to hold onto
Glass shatters
Break me like that bottle
Its contents dripping dark like blood over its jagged edges
"Tear me apart and build me back up."
"Do you know what that means?"
A whisper so cold yet my heart warms
"All I know is that I am ready."
storm, weight of rain sloshes
o’er the sides of the acrylic tub
thunder of strobe, eyes blinking
slashes of screams, disaster —
utterance of lips, gutteral
door jammed, eye to eye contact
with the lion and lamb; the owl
on heights of despair interrogates,
scrutinizes, eyeballs the blood seas,
sees all, inspects your history,
his and his too, talons tapping.
outside the storm-beset sanctuary
enlightenment, smoky decanter,
revolt against rage, mercy seeks
mercy great, dumbo’s ears all wet,
humbling effect, spirit genuflect
running, running, out of breath
entangled in net, unseen drooling
at achilles tendon, heel’s devotion
genuflection at soaked-white tow’r,
emptied of a mother’s call, deliver’d
a newborn once more — water
breaking, agony of childbirth
the ruination of seeds, road rage
— off course; after impregnation
of tumbling weeds, g.p.s turned off
God is greater than all this. Later
it seems frivolous. Weight was great —
shoulder-pounding, tremulous.
But He comforts us
as if we had a boo-boo —
God, great and wonderful
cleanses the germs
thoroughly, applies bandaid,
kisses the wound; also
the forehead
mother’s heart and stomach
patched; her seething brain
restored to sanity
God moved
the husband’s hand to phone
softened hearts of stone
punishment was puny
Three cords intertwined
A fourth runs through and through
Spirit of release and joy
the Lord allows not
the ruination of a mother’s soul;
pulls her close — nose to nose
with the lion, lamb and owl
she can only smile now
8/12/2020
Brian Strand’s contest