Gargled Poems | Examples

some days

the floorboard that gasps when stepped on
the blue bulb pulsing in an amber-lit room
the coffee stain colonizing your blue shirt—
some days, we’re nothing but
a tiny inconvenience

sharpen a pencil too far—it snaps
gargled too long, you swallow by accident
sending flowers too early—
some days, we’re nothing but
the clock that limps or leaps

some days, we are
the red shirt always missing—
until we bleed into everything

Black Ice Snake

The morning was painted with a frigid brush
The car gargled up a February moon
I had the early A.M road all to myself
almost
A death wish was gaining ground in large chunks
together we entered the throat of the black ice snake
after a few side-by-side terrorized seconds
the red eyes disappeared over an asphalt bluff. 
I looked for death wish in the ditches
On the commute home the ice was seduced by salt
I continued looking for death wish
as far as I could tell there were none.

I made it home safely...only slightly disappointed.

Shuffling Through

Inspired by the Onomatopoeia Contest (2024), sponsored by Emile Pinet.

Mid-day invaded my spirits with blah. 
I sauntered the path to the coffee shop
and heard my friends blabbing on endlessly,
astir with the recent barista flop.

I swallowed a mouthful of latte,
gagged and gargled with an unwanted flush
of caramel nut crème tickling my throat.
It made my gustatory senses gush.

After much gurgling, I gulped and groaned,
spilling the foamy froth with a loud plop.
My spirits sizzled and snapped 
with the luscious last loud drop.

Having quenched my fraudulent thirst 
I selfishly, yet successfully, bashed
the doleful doldrums that attended me.
I hiccupped along home and crashed.

Leave It Out Judge

The judge told the man, “You’re accused
By all of those that you abused.
You’re too touchy feely,
You touch and feel freely
And all of them feel they’ve been used.”

The man cleared his throat, then he spoke
But all that came out was a croak
He coughed and he spluttered
But nothing got muttered
It sounded as though he might choke

The judge said, “Are there mitigations
For your regular deviations
For touching two teachers
And one or two preachers
And, with my wife, having relations?”

The man cleared his throat once again
His voice cackled like an old hen
He just couldn’t speak
It could take a week
His lawyer requested a pen

The judge said, “It only gets worse,
You fondled a man in a hearse
It’s really quite shoddy
To grope a dead body
To decency you are a curse.”

The man tried to write a quick note
He coughed and he wheezed as he wrote 
He struggled for breath
Like he was near death
Or had a bullfrog in his throat 

The judge said, “Speak up at the double
You sound like you’ve gargled with rubble
As a means to an end
Suck a Fisherman’s Friend.”
The man said,,, “I’M IN ENOUGH TROUBLE!”

Close Harmony

CLOSE HARMONY

When young, I’d had an ambition
To join a close harmony group.
But, alas, as soon as I open my mouth,
I sound like an infant with croup

But I went for the audition,
Having gargled with TCP
And practiced my scales religiously,
From A right up to G

They listened quite politely
As I went through my repertoire.
Though I knew from their pained expressions,
I wasn’t going far

They said they’d never heard a voice
With quite so much vibrato.
But the only vacancy they had
Was for something called a castrato.

I looked it up on Google,
Before I went to bed,
And immediately decided
To be a poet instead

7th September 2021
"H" contest - new or old poems
Sponsor - Constance Le France

Summer Hell In a Day

like the feel of wood swooning to seas touch
the scrape of knife on plate
slow mo clouds on breeze unsure
hushing trees
gargled chuckles of seagull pass
acetically addictive
glass alps projectile vomit
from misunderstood sand
sea murmurs of deeps untook
plastic bag schooners
seaweed popping pimples
and tears
i remember the tears

Bean and Queen

I secured my car with Yale lock and key,

And merrily sauntered up the hotel lobby,

stuck my tongue out with a smile obscene,

I was rehearsing my role to play Mr. Bean!

The suit was perfect and so was the walk,

I gargled my words as Mr. Bean would talk,

laughter was stolen by an old lady, who imitated the Queen and winked at me!

18/06/2020
Contest: It is only make belief
Sponsor Regina Riddle

Chaff

Canine teeth that glimmer with the moonlights gaze
Open mouthed to taste unsalted tears of dripping clouds
Howls are gargled as they swallow the forlorn
Straw men sit and sift the spaces
that make their shifting frame
Wheat whips splash across the backs
as yelping oil dogs
turn to puddles black
Straw men slowly hack
at chaff offspring
that seem to laugh
Obsidian flame burning in the acid rain
as shadow ghost murmur
their stolen names

I Have Gargled On a Rainbow

I have gargled on a rainbow
Played hide and seek
with light
Used a day in one night
I have laughed at all the wrong times
cried when it is write
the way that i have choose
to pick at every loose stand
if you are made to crawl
Scaring fear into the wall
Do my words speak my voice
or do you
make that choice
Never leave me by big button red
or the sound of ping
last thing Herd
may follow
but i step off the ledge

Villanelle: Everything Takes Time: Take Not Time By the Forelock

Villanelle:  Everything takes time: take not time by the forelock

Everything takes time: take not time by the forelock
Whether in deference to the past’s foiled efforts
The tingling ergot fires our desires do unlock

Rye clavicus purpurea our joints dislock
Till the soil of our conscience deeper than roots
Everything takes time: take not time by the forelock

Eastern sky pyrotechnics rude rockets won’t mock
In deference to witches’ brews sharp mandrake roots
The tingling ergot fires our desires do unlock

Infernal fires rage on in limbs of mad rock
Gargled warnings in the larvae spouting cheroots 
Everything takes time: take not time by the forelock

Is that Bosch who will St Anthony’s fall not baulk
Memories of charred instant byres turned to soots
The tingling ergot fires our desires do unlock

Took thirteen point eight billion years to make a lark
How many to buy back twenty-one eight trillion debts
Everything takes time: take not time by the forelock
The tingling ergot fires our desires do unlock

(c) T. Wignesan - Paris,  2017

Ever Again Get Sick

Ever Again Get Sick

There are both experience and inspiration
That may be mixed with much perspiration
Sometimes have feelings of pure desperation
Packed bags and went on pleasurable vacation.

Other day heard sermon from my preacher
Experience with no exception is best teacher
If by sore throat found things to be disturbn'
Have shot with honey mixed with bourbon.

Do gargle down throat to heart's content
Spend more time in bed which was well spent
And if you will cough and continue to sputter
Should east jelly sandwich with peanut butter.

After it was gargled and down would swallow
Through throat and vocal cords always hollow
Being what you had swallowed was so thick
No longer will you ever again start to get sick.

James Thesarious Hilarious Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet

Six, Six, Six

Daubed and menacing
In "Technically"-Colour;
Words, regret-gargled.

What's Sacred

Truculent trucks advert young minds; raging down roads breeding new gods as pompous, glitter covered idols carved from primordial blades of fear. Meanwhile pious pieces of magnesium stone get chiseled out of focus, branded by labels of complex empirical realities, numerically based shrines too impenetrable to worship. Help! Is the cry of objective cynics still rumbling in earthenware, readily retracing faint footsteps of Diogenes. Jumping in a wormhole of subjective garments to escape an ill-fitting, elementary pipe dream of unified ideals, gargled then spat from archetypal lips. Blowing away the dandelion fluff to catch a glimpse of act 1, scene 1; unrevised. Before curtains close the gap, leaving a thinning tightrope walk between me and we. Strutting back inside homes where a novelty Christ hangs on drywall masking punched holes of pain, wagging fingers pointing to his prescribed solvent, waiting for tomorrow to unlock today’s faith. When will they point at the mirror wading in dark nooks of conscience’s blurry frame? For he who searches, will seldom find peace beyond arms reach.

A Child's Concern

A CHILD’S CONCERN

Guess he was ninety years old
Had a cat that died, so we were told
Accordin to dad, his name was Ralph
And old Ralph liked to talk to his self
He sat on the porch every day
Watchin people pass along the way
Old Ralph was so old his wrinkled skin
I would swear was fallin off of him
One day I got close enough to hear
Some gargled talk, “Oh, my Tabby dear.”
My Tabby dear was his old dead cat
I’m smart enough to figer out that
I spose he talked to others too
But no one that my daddy knew
People listened then hurried along
Shakin their head at the old ding dong
Postman told me old Ralph’s day was past
Even dead old Tabby gone at last
No one left for this lonsome old coot
I guess no one really give a hoot
Porch now is empty, sign on the door
Ralph won’t be freakin people no more
Dad says he’s up in heaven somewhere
Hope lonesome old Ralph finds Tabby there

Dave Austin

I'Ve Gargled Anyway

I've gargled anyway                                                                                                                                              And splashed Joan on the right spots of my countenance                                                                                Now then before going out again                                                                                                        There is time for plant talk around the coffee pot                                                                            I've told them my life story now at least three times                                                                        And last week the philodendrons died                                                                                           So now I tell them nursery rhymes and lies

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