Gobbling Poems | Examples

This turn

My eyes swerved to someone
magnified my attention,
mesmerized in hyponsis,
felt like popping of faries bubbles down my mind,
couple of ladders to my comprehension, 
I'm sliding smooth but hasty, 
like adrenalin,
caught off guard.
Smelting of this cold layers on my motion, 
lays softness to my curiosity 

Thought future was fate determined, 
yet this here shreded my expectations, 
I don't know whether 
I'm falling or drowning,
just can't seem to be landing, 
I'm gobbling on gusts of my breath, 
choking but in looping sequences, 
sudden sinking to my understanding.

Can someone turn off this heat, 
this wave burning and 
pealing only in my presence, 
just way beyond for me to contain.
Wish I could paint this image for the universe eye 
but I'm without paint and brush,
in me is just some catastrophic 
of epic proportions
#Poetic_Ink

AoTEARoa aka New Zealand

Spine chilling velocity
Willing feverish ferocity
Pollution spilling atrocity
Pushes our buttons
Top billing forging
Fiendish drilling pomposity
Gluttons gorging in the isles of muttons

Coining the term “purloining”
Plunder even here down under
Cast asunder..can hear the thunder
In the proud land of 
The long white cloud

Scold from the fold to heal
But won’t listen..do a deal
Gaudy gems appeal..glisten
History sold for pieces of gold

Cower to phoney crony power
Dour Parasites roll the dice
Show pony baloney hour

Off their heads...now divining 
Mining our whining sea beds..

Palaver of scour..devour and sour
Splice our shining slice of paradise
Vice rather than stories of glories told

Voraciously gobbling veracity
Audaciously hobbling precocity
Generosity wobbling even in the home
Of lengthy Cumulus Curiosity…

Not being funny
In this Land of Milk & Honey
Won’t kowtow to the cash cow

Getting out of hand
Because the answer forever
Whatever will never ever
Be just money!

She fits in everywhere she goes

She is a child of the mountains, of meadows, lakes, and seas.
A pirate queen, faerie princess, ninja warrior, consultant to a king.
Sliding into crevices others might not understand; only herself to please.
She fits in with so many; her plethora of talents of which others sing.

A bit of a pyromania, loving the reds and oranges of a gobbling fire.
A loner, and yet, with many friends. Others cannot tear themselves away
She follows her muses, writing and painting, in comfortable attire.
Her days are filled with joy, for she knows the therapeutic use of play.

She is a child of God, but not the one that hides behind a church steeple.
A spiritualist, she believes in the beauty of mystics and esoteric art
She is followed by a multitude of adoring friends, strangers, people.
A marvelous friend, a fine citizen, with a generous glowing heart.

Gobbling for Gobbledygook

Swallowing songs 
Help the hungry bluebirds sing 
Gulping gasps of air 
With nothing there but Spring 
Time faeries with magic wands 
Go backwards to bury treasure 
Into the grey matter of my brain 
Where poems are locked up like gold 
Only later to be discovered 
At the end of rainbows
They go

Math

Oh, what a hideous subject to cross my path,
Addition, subtraction, division, multiplication,
Percentages and fractions, those I can grasp,
But the rest, oh, I wish to throw you in the pit,
I can’t see your point of view no matter what you do.

To me, you're the dragon that bites off my head,
A vicious lion, while I’m the innocent bunny that is caught in your claws.
You're the shark, and I am the fish you are gobbling up,
So don’t pretend that you're a friend to me.

I truly dislike you,
When you appear on my screen.
I imagine a million ways to get rid of you,
I'd toss you in a garbage disposal,
Watch you grind up into a million different pieces.
I'd throw you into the deepest part of the ocean's,
I wouldn’t be sad as I watch you sink.
Oh, if only I could launch you into space,
So fast that NASA would think you’re a UFO.
I wouldn’t regret your departure,
So far that you crash-land on Jupiter's third moon.

But in the end, it’s all just fantasy,
For it’s clear you’ll most likely be the death of me,
Before my school years are through.

The End of November

I remember the end of one November
When my urge 
To see the forest trees
Was unbreakable.
The leaves and the trees
Were still lively and red
But still and half way dead.
Discovering fallen trees
Ancient mounds
And new paths with distant sounds.
It was hard to carry on home
Where my other soul
Laid on my chest
Like the still winter trees
Deemed to rest.

I remember the end of that November
When his string
Seemed unbreakable.
Maybe in a few years or so
But not today or tomorrow or ever.

I remember the ends of November
When he went over yonder
Swimming in our streams
Lying in the summer’s heat
Tugging on the leash
Gobbling on nature’s sweets
Galloping to wherever we may meet
Again.

Scavenger Hunt

                      Their feathered shields
                      like steel, shimmer in sunlight.

                     Gobbling, wobbling  on thorny feet
                     without flight;
 
                      foraging through leathered leaves
                      that autumn left behind,

                      acorns lay abundant, 
                      for hungry turkey's to find.

hungry deer

deer take over fields 
gobbling up farmers scraps 
then fade into woods

Mickey-Dees

I'm gonna have some dees and I'm not talking bout mickey-dees but some d-E's..divine enablements and when them needs come out to breathe..I'm ready wit some d-E's.
in fact this year with current unsettling events that keep happening consistently,i pray for ah pocket full of divine enablements that let's me not get overwhelmed with them..negative events that is. you can keep gobbling up mickey dees if you wont to!

The old apple tree

It was pruned in Autumn  
now we can see new growth, 
New buds replacing old ones
Its too early for it to flower yet.

For the time being it will grow
and form new spurs to bear apples.
Leaves will appear in brilliant green
hiding from sight the robins nest.

There will be baby robins once more
with their blue breasts at first.
Gobbling up grubs hungrily
also fat balls and seeds.

Now the apple blossom spring's into life
delicate sprays of high perfume.
Vibrant colours decorate branches
once more life has come back.

The old tree will bear abundant fruits
in September fat large apples 
will be ready to harvest and
the old brambly tree has fulfilled expectations

Prologue Post Treason

      LizPiggo began gobbling up the bodies of the four Cartel members. "What"! Her newly aware look at her comrades, questioned in a somewhat hurt and astonished manner, their judgmental attitudes. "We have to get rid of the evidence!" She whipped out a bottle of Uncle Ray's barbecue sauce and a salt and pepper combo shaker,
some Country Crock (churn style),
a napkin wrapped utensil set, a kids pool plastic makeshift toilet, (which she was going to hand to Shroomer, because he was full of hot air, but remembered he was now an assailant/fugitive in their circle), instead she french kissed Rosie Odonut and said, "if you blow up this beach and get your lips warmed up I will split the last two with you", while winking. When she fashioned her table cloth bib in place (so she wouldn't stain her beautiful Sunday dress) she was rock em sock em-and ready to go.

Gus shook his head and began pairing everyone up in teams...Then, WailersWitch walked in...

Ramassery Idli

It blooms 
in the steam,
white and velvety. 
What makes it unique 
is its shape and taste. True 
culinary art is created in the heart.
Ajinomoto is never sprinkled for a harmful 
delight. The old purity prevails in the batter of rice, 
black gram, fenugreek, and salt, challenging time. The 
idli brings a hamlet into the limelight. Like a ballad, its recipe 
and cuisine have been passed down. I goggle at it before gobbling.
No gripe. Eupeptic. My fatigue does vanish in the relish. It’s not the  
painted wall, but the warm air and the delicious dish that linger in my soul.


First published in The Literary Hatchet

The First Temptation

Beautiful things in life have to do with taste
But who can tame those taste buds that seem to never waste

Has anyone been so careful in his eating habits
Today we are constantly nibbling like bunny rabbits

It is through eating that our first parents were tempted
And it is in through eating (the eucharist) that our sins get exempted

Yet food has been the greatest battle in my life
Greater than even those which I have with my wife

Monday to Fridays we are over our laptops, slouched
Come weekends-endless are the walks between the refrigerator and couch

And what of today, burgers, fries and other fast foods 
Swiggy, Zomato and other food deliveries  get us in right mood

At the swipe of our cell phone everything made so easy
We want to tempt those taste buds even when the thought makes us queasy

At the rate at which we are gobbling
I’m afraid in the mirror one day I will be spooked by an ugly fat goblin

Tale of a Skipping Stone

"My dear skipping stone," I gently asked.
"What tales lie within your flitting flight,
As you tippy-toe skip over the water so fast?"
What lessons can you tell us, Oh shiny one so bright?"

"Well firstly, it's in the shape of stone."
The skipper's learned response began.
"Choose a flat smooth one, from the wet river zone,
Where smooth stones have collected in the skidpan."

"The next trick is the way you grip the disk."
"Curl your index finger around it, lock it with your thumb."
"Then you're ready for the deft wrist flick,
which will ensure a skip, skip, skip outcome."

"Like everything, it takes practice to get it right."
"A smooth calm water surface helps a lot,
as waves can smite your stone with such delight."
"Gobbling stones is the wave's unfair, cheap shot"

"Life is like a skipping stone's pace."
"A clutch of fleeting moments, a flip of flings in the sun."
"Embrace each leap with joy and grace."
"For skipping time, like ripples, is all too soon done."

With that, the skipping stone grew still,
Its wisdom etched within my being.
The stone sank gently into the water with all its skill,
Revealed to everyone and given true meaning.

Quiet Riot

There once lived a huge, black bear named quiet
In the forest, he ate a bland diet
Never one to roar
He was such a bore
‘Til gobbling a troll, rousing a riot



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May 2, 2023

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