Gurgle Poems | Examples

Water sings a lilting lullaby

Hear Ye!
the babbles of brook flowing on by.
the fizzy hiss of foam floating on tide.
the howls of a waterfall crying into sky.
the raging roar of waves crashing on beach.
the pitter-patter raps of raindrops on window panes.
the splish and swish of paddles straddling lake.
the tinkle taps of gentle rain showers on rooves.
the guttural gurgle of water sinking down drains.
the blink and plink of dew drops tumbling down leaves.
all singing in cadence, a lulling lilting lullaby,
caressing ye to sleep.
But, Beware Ye, 
lest Ye hear,
the alien tap of 
drip, 
     drip, 
           drip, 
drops in sink!
relentless, incessant, clatter, 
insistent for a fix!

Old Paint in Old Tin Can

I pried with a screw-driver driven into a lid 
sealed with age, and rust, to crack open a 
callous retribution, set aside, tombed over.
I was curious to learn how much remained
and in what condition. Up came the lid with
a gurgle, fizz, hiss, expelled with age smell.
The paint on top, had dried, to a skin, a curd,
a viscous scum of strange foreign color that
did not auger well for its pending redemption.
I poked through the thin skin, scooping it out,
to reveal the paint separated into its primary
colors. Once, thrice stirred, it slowly rejigged
into its original color and form, ready to adorn 
marks on the wall, scraped and sanded ready 
for a fix, now all's done dusted, and forgiven.

ARTIST : 1

{For 5x5x3 Poetry Contest
Sponsor : Miranda Hawley 
Date submitted: 20/4/25}

 ARTIST 

They shone daring green avocado 
in dark adverse period swearing 
guilt ridden heart vanquished free
sacral scrubbed pink and ready
plumed serpent in magnificent bloom

with candles God watched supreme
from blue misty mountain clean
knowing Artist was not insane
two green irises unusually plain
pierced her luminous spine divine

naked Eve eyed painting quiet 
easels of unfinished tired purple 
massaged her throat coloured gurgle 
rooms without curtains collapsing sad
Artist pierced Love bubble mad

Hot Breath

Hot Breath

excited crowd waits impatiently
earthquakes shake the ground
lava heated boiling water
pushes towards the surface
hot steam spews from the vent
anticipation grows, ready for the eruption
a mighty whoosh and the vented steam
reaches for the blue sky
for a duration of ninety seconds
the crowd is awed by natures power
with a gurgle the steam cloud
settles back into the earth to await
another cycle

You don't cry

You don’t cry

Doesn’t, I know, if yes, then it is just a dramatic comedy
only. Feed your cruel soul, gurgle your dark blood
in your heart. Your being grows fat in a suffering fool

This guy loved your dove, she was in disguise, well
I was wrong. I drink the dark clotted blood of my mistake
– cursed price. My blood is dry, a vulture eats my corpse

Don’t cry
Just fly
I was
your victim.

You were
my reaper
Waiting for you
my angel

One Glimpse

     Bare, bony fingers probe
       nature’s naked cupboard
 
     Nary a morsel seen
       nutrition confined to dreams 

     December winds howl o’er barren ground
        January storms muffle all sound

     February thaws gurgle whispers of hope
        Crushed by March, snowdrifts abound

     Bears in hibernation, birds down south
        We humans alone, down in the mouth …

     One glimpse of Robin redbreast
        ~ no longer depressed

In Autumn

In Autumn

In Autumn pumpkins hang out in 
hedge mazes, corn visits wreathes in
Finland, spices go to 
music festivals, photos of 
chestnuts do 
the splits, marsh mellows make 
prank calls, haunted houses tailgate 
tourist buses and 
fire trucks and 
ambulances, porcupines stop 
thinking, umbrellas talk 
24/7, squirrels read 
encyclopaedias, jam people pretend 
to be dead, candle people pretend 
to be deaf, scarves wear 
boots, maple syrup gurgle 
nursery rhymes, hens learn to 
play the 
banjo, chickens lay 
cell phones, cherries chase after 
bunnies, cupcakes plant 
trees, wallets take out 
the garbage, and
mittens dip themselves in 
cream cheese.

Bat Bite

    Stolen from story book disbelief 
    Leather cape swoop, hooks my veins
    Fork prong fangs drink, blood drains
    Bubble in ruby bead eyed thief


    Gurgle as furry gargoyle fills 
    Helicopter hurricane flurry vanishes 
    Clutching my haemorrhage damages
    Explosive throat, dizzying thrills

 
   Attack on this dreaded day, theorise
   Opened as old time, musty pages
   Terror in an unexpected text message 
   Dirty diseased creature in disguise


   Heroic helper - no - unobscured horror 
   Giving me a role in rancid plot 
   Grave digging past reveals rot
   Historic vampiric bombastic bother 




   Haunted Taunted
     Spooks Peek 
    Last of October

Rain

Today I listened to the rain,
its soft fall and trickle down
patter on a metal roof,
its melodic tap tap
on a large leaf and the gurgle
of its spill deep in a downpipe.
My world was distilled to drops
of rainwater clinging like silver beads
to the length of a clothesline,
glistening furiously in a brief 
burst of sunlight.

I gave the moment no rank
or a place in the hierarchy 
of meaningful things,
hardly worth a mention, 
but simply offered the world 
some room and was moved 
to feel the rain wet my face 
and taste it's tears. It shared much 
with me today…..and this
is a thank you.

The thing about Nature is

The thing about Nature is...
By Michelle Morris 
03/10/2024

The thing about Nature is...
She helps slow your pace right down
Your heart beats with Gaia's heartbeat 
And She shows you how it's done

The green spaces in dappled woods
Where sunlight winks at you
Trees reaching for the blue skies
As Nature shows Her Truth 

Where rivers gurgle and giggle in delight 
Playfully running to the sea
Where faeries and mischievous creatures
Show you how magical Life can be 

Here in these Sacred Spaces
Between Time and Humanity
We can reach our own Soul's Spark 
Listen carefully to its Secrets 

For each one of us is born 
To create beauty in this Universe 
No Life was created for Destruction 
We're meant to lift our collective Spirits 

But only when we know ourselves 
Can we walk the best Path for us
To create Magic and Miracles in our own Lives 
Until we return to Nature as Dust

© Michelle Morris, 2024

we love country living

living in the country was the life for me
attracted to no other place; this was my destiny
we bought a meadow with strawberries wild
I became even more in touch with my hippie child

my husband said “This is God’s country”.
I loved knowing he also felt a bended knee.
Cows next door banter and bellow.
wild woodland sunflowers are extremely yellow.

Today a swarm of something came by.
There were hundreds of them in the sky.
Were they wasps? Faeries? Angels or bees?
They came over my head, floating on a breeze.

They were dragonflies, at least fifty or more.
Way up high I saw a long wing-span hawk soar.
we have fox, opossum, raccoon, turtles and deer
Next door is a marsh, the water gurgle we sometimes hear.

Our gentle country life is slow-paced, and feels great.
We are not in a hurry, going nowhere, never late.
My husband and I have loved the country all of our life.
For fifty-three years I have been his happy wife.

I want to believe

I want to believe that my real essence
Is that of a sparkling star;
Made to delight those who watch me from afar
And to inspire them as to want to catch me
In spite of never being able to!

I want to believe that my afterlife
Is well secured, set to be acted out
In some far away land
Well-guarded by the Gods
And by those from whom the source 
Of life gets its energy!

I want to believe that I walk according 
To some sort of pre-ordained fate
Written not by me or by my will
But by a power which shall remain so mighty
That my frail stature shall never decipher it!

I want to believe in magic, in this world's beauty,
In the good will of those who are like me
In the potency of clear streams as they gurgle by
In the brightness of the moon as it shines over me
Why,
In everything that makes my heart skip a beat!

Loud words

In the silence of the night, there comes a slam, 
A door swings wide, a sudden splash of rain, 
The thunder echoes with a mighty bam, 
While rivers babble tales of joy and pain. 

The birds awake and start to warble tunes, 
As streams begin to gurgle in their flow, 
The wind begins to softly mumble runes, 
And trees release a gentle, leafy belch below. 

A distant clang rings out, the night alive, 
As branches crackle underfoot, they thrive.

Revel In A Luscious Glimpse

Deep blood red orange cloud’s,
ethereal dream float,
Satin wind carrier of luscious mint,
green hymnody’s deft transport,
Spring hues random loitering,
between gray peeled branches,
Chirpy echo squeak,
 from red-wing blackbird,
A fragile wafer tin threshold,
Golden stream gurgle,
under marsh reeds, 
Evanescent saline grain haze,
Azure ocean tide aroused,
from still wave slumber,
Clamshell pearl strewn oyster,
 oddments interspersed,
on pockmark sandstone beach, 
Iridescent canopy of nature trail,
Awaits the first blush pilgrim,
who revels in lavish glimpses,
And sumptuous earworm madrigal,
A tantalizing world so close,
Glad tiding raptures,
from the camper awakened,
Coffee caper bean whiff aromatic,
Quencher of dust road harsh throat,
Splatter free rapeseed oil,
daub on an iron pan,
wild howl from prehistoric wolf, 
So quaint in its primal sweep,
hair-raising backdrop to stir fry meal,
Tinplate dollop sated hunger

Daughter-Becoming Mother

Hold each precious moment close, a whispered prayer, for in your heart, a tiny universe takes care. This is a time of magic, a dance with the unknown. 
Embrace the wonder, let your spirit, like a seed, be sown. 

The world slows, bathed in the soft glow of anticipation.
Let intuition be your guide, a compass leading you through this uncharted sea. May every gurgle and flutter be a melody of love, a crescendo of life's sweet symphony. 

This is a time of transformation, a metamorphosis whispered on the wind. 
Embrace the changes, daughter, for within you, a masterpiece is being shaped. You are a vessel of creation, a weaver of dreams, and in your hands, a tiny miracle begins.

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