Long Gurgled Poems

Long Gurgled Poems. Below are the most popular long Gurgled by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Gurgled poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Pushing Fingers---Erotica Contest

I sit next to her
Dreaming my boyhood fantasies
The side of my hand touches her thigh
Wishing I could reach between her legs
Push my fingers into her softness
Feel the dampness of her need 
Hear that wanting sigh
Her calling out
"ohhhhh, you're my guy
push deeper
I want to fly"

I look down her top
see the delicate curve of her breast
imagine what it would be like
to see her undressed
Within my minds eye
every part of her caressed

Me her master
In control
Her desiring me to fill each hole
together intertwined on the floor we role
I dive deep
like a submarine
As I push forward she grinds and leans
Me taking her places she's never been

From my mouth a gurgled sigh
Wetness creates a dark stain near my fly
She turns towards me 
my throat goes dry

I silently pray 
"please don't look at my pants."
If she sees it 
I won't have a chance 
She smiles a knowing smile and says
"Don't worry young man, 
it's time for him to come out and play!"




Charlotte's Scorchers Contest
Written November 18th, 2013


Premium Member Confronting Shadows- POTD

On a dusky evening long time ago,
When shadows huddled at every corner, 
When rain had gone and birds had roosted,
You held me close and whispered in my ear;

“In your eyes I see, the blue of the sky,
In your soul, you hold the depth of the seas, 
Love swells, like tides on rise,
My life, I vow, by Jove, never to part” 

Your voice, like a tremulous rivulet gurgled,
We stood staring at each other in a warm embrace. 
With passion sweet, your eyes glowed.
Like a blue lagoon, they were deep and peaceful.

On your dimpled cheek, a kiss I planted,
A gesture warm with abiding love.
Crisscross lain as warp and weft,
We hoped to weave the garb of life.

Words and deeds that served as balm to the soul!
Still, they repeat, gushing a flurry of thoughts,
But alas! To a far unknown land you fled,
‘From whose bourn, no traveler returns’,

My life has moldered and mildew grown,
Where my Love! Whither have you gone?
Who bid you slink into death’s secret hide?
Why left me to languish in a world of shadows?

Seasons roll and years glide,
Youth has withered and memory fails,
Now I wander through a dim shadowy world.
I feel so trapped and lonely, as twilight grips.

Like embers flickering low, yet stocked by the breath of fire,
I hope, we shall meet one day at the Golden gate,
Where no shadows shall lurk and time shall stay eternal
And silence sparks the language, the ears want to hear.
_______     _____________      _______
 
When rain is gone and sky gets clear,
When night turns deeper and silence creeps,
I transverse back to that dusky eve,
To retrieve those moments, I sadly cherish!

The Vicar and the Alien

I'm sure the creature fell from outer space;
I found a crater with its capsule in -
it crawled towards me then, devoid of kin,
with tentacles and multi-coloured face.
I shouted, 'Welcome to the human race'
and thought the waving movements of its limbs 
responded to my idea: singing hymns.
I sang in tenor, baritone and bass,
and said, 'Perhaps you'd like to join my choir?'
It seemed to think, but then it gurgled, 'No',
and spinning round and round, it flew.
The capsule revving up appeared on fire -
my alien was surely set to go,
and off it went with smoke and sparks of blue...

written 21st October for Brian's contest
© Jack Horne  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member That Salad Went Right Through Me

That Salad Went Right Through Me


I've always wanted to write a poem called
“That Salad Went Right Through Me”.
And I would wager upon its best destiny:

To begin with, there is the Universal Theme--
For who has not gurgled around a conference table
at half past the last radish scrap?

Who, once stalled, has not
persistently punched the flusher
to muffle the borborygmus din?

But on a loftier note, I prefer 
to think of my paean emblazoned
in the annals of first line indexes, 
where, as one wanders lonely as a cloud 

over dactyls and tropes,
“That salad went right through me”
trots right off the page 
demanding a fervid flip to its leaf.

And future discourse plied at workshops, 
and other such rarefied privies of poesy
might thusly include:

 "Did you write a poem for the class today?"

	Yes...“That Salad Went Right Through Me”

 "Well then, you should consider the cheesecake."
© Craig Sipe  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member The Ballad of Sandcastle Jane


     This is the Ballad of Sandcastle Jane
     Who went to the seaside in the pouring rain
     Where she built sandcastles on the seashore
     At first there was one, then there were more.

     Then, far away she espied Seashore Bill
     A renowned mud larker of considerable skill
     Bill and Jane had crossed buckets before
     On a distant un-named and rainy seashore,

     Now Jane was busy on the rain dampened sand
     Making a castle with spade and bucket in hand
     When up came Bill, a frown on his face,
     “You cannot build here, there’s finds in this place.”

     Bill swept his metal detector over the strand
     Excavating the moats Jane for her castles had planned
     “Stop that!”, Jane cried as Bill sounded the ground
     Picking up possible treasure he’d found.

     They fought bucket and spade for their sandy domain
     Amid the wind and the tide and the down pouring rain
     Until Jane dug a hole under Bill’s feet,
     Her victory now was nearly complete.

     As Bill gurgled his last as he sank in the sand
     Jane repented and grasped Seashore Bill by the hand
     She struggled to lift the considerable weight
     Up came Bill and Pieces of Eight	

     Now Bill and Jane are happily wed
     With Dubloons and Silver stashed under their bed
     Jane and Bill never went to the seashore again
     So ends the Ballad of Sandcastle Jane.
Form: Ballad


Poets

POETS


Desert dust before the rain hampered our walk
                       on the Oregon  floor
             boards creaked with late afternoon lore
                 
Dry gin in a glass waiting
                       it wanted to bubble like champagne 
               but there was nothing to babble about 
                   
A rake for an unworked farm
                            listened for fractals
                Tesla said he was not available 
                              today

 Ears with a mop of white hair 
                  detective with his magnifying glass
                         he thought of making love to a
                               young African maiden
  she came for the cheese and drinks 
              not the poetry 
                              he changed his mind
in case she wanted his property too
                          
             A thick skinned peach arrives
                                 nourishing seed
                            sugar salt and cinnamon sticks
                                she was not about to offer anybody lifts

To hell with this poetry thing
             I want to be rich oozed from her brain stem
                 
                   
Wooden baton
           rich gravied marrow
gurgled a verse through throttled container


One-eyed pond
              there were mosquitoes to be uncovered
                           or a tadpole or two
Maybe
the mud was sufficiently thin

           Such strange creatures, these poets

              
Gingerbread woman
                               hot from the oven
offering the sanctity of materiality
      she appeased our hunger
with a jaunty hat

What do I think, the ego asked the ego
                      No thoughts arrived

What do you think, the ego asked Soul
                      
                        I do not think
                              I feel oceanic passion
                                  as the rain mutes the dust
                                          beneath the poets’ feet

 
    
©GhairoDanielsPoetry2017

It Was One of Those Mornings

I rose early for a change,
  these days I am not subject to the madness on the highway range.
Today though I had many assigned to do tasks
  and hurried to start the car as others passed.
There in that moment of anticipation
  the car expressed gurgled intense hesitation
and all the lights came on in a flicker of warnings
  this was not a great start to my morning.

There I stood outside the door
  frustrated and discouraged with the chore
and you pulled in the driveway just behind me
  with a cup of coffee and the mechanical know how tree.
You jiggled this and tweaked that
  knowing just where everything was at.
Then as quickly as the rising dawn
  I was on my way and you were gone.
Thank you, friend, you forgot your coffee.
© DM Babbit  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Donkey

Donkey 

Pin back your ears
Settle down for the ride
And you'll find a warm feeling
Somewhere way deep inside.. 

Here is a story
That has often been told
It's full of excitement 
and never gets old 

It starts with a journey
You've heard it before..
There's Joseph, Mary and baby
And donkey makes four.

They travelled from far
To Bethlehem's Inn
Where a bed for the night..
..well it wasn't a thing 

So the Inn Keeper showed them
A place round the side
With a shed and some straw
And a manger to hide 

And here at the stable
As all gather around
The new baby gurgled
a heavenly sound 

And the star of the show?
Not the one high above
It's this baby right here
The one swaddled in love 

So here is the thing
As our story unfolds..
The star in the sky 
Sends a message so bold... 

Like a beacon to signal
To nations and races
That this King has been born 
To put smiles on our faces

"I'm here for this child
so all people can see
There's a star up in heaven
So much brighter than me."

So to ears that can hear
And to eyes that can see..
A message of joy
Tells of all that can be..

But one creature here
Knowing more than the rest..
Having carried the baby
Having passed every test 

Knowingly munches
By the crib filled with hay
That this baby will save us
From bad things one day 

He knows that this child.. 
Is far more than enough.
The reason we celebrate 
All this Christmassy stuff 

The greatest of gifts
With the lowliest start
For the baby is coming
To reclaim your heart 

So pin back your ears
Settle down for the ride
And try not to deny
That warm feeling inside.. 


@jinjagoliath
December 18th 2021 

@jenna.mckell.creates
Image: With the Animals
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Whiskey Talk

me and my friend in a bar,
with whiskey as referee!
debating the true answer,
to chicken and egg theory!

with slow slurred speech I said
look here my friend,”chicken first,
she grew and cockerel wed,
then came egg, you know the rest!”

he gurgled a laugh and shook,
“imagine the work involved,
feathers, beak, two eyes to look,
egg is easy! problem solved!”

Chef was amused at our plight,
he said “ one free of that came first!”
we quickly agreed I was right,
won free piece of chicken breast!!

Honourable mention
Written 19/10/2021
Difference in Opinion contest
Shreya LN sponsored
7 to 8 syllables each line
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Hungarian Night Wish

Our little family was together
.......for now
Daddy was asleep on the couch
and I was here sharing your bed
in your little student flat

tomorrow our togetherness would unravel
We'd be forced to travel
leaving you behind
in this enchanting Hungarian city
to make your dream come true 
you'd be a physiotherapy guru
one day

As I struggled with the heaviness in my heart,
a heaviness I knew
you would come to know
when the fullness of motherhood you'd show,
you turned to me and gurgled a laugh
the unfettered kind 
that only comes in dreamland

I gazed at your face in wonder
then it came to me again
another girlish giggle
and just as quickly...it was gone
for your dream carried you
and I was left holding on
desperately wanting this moment to last

I let out a sigh
Looking out of your window
up at the Hungarian sky
my eyes focused on a star 
as my heart breathed a wish
that your laugh would come as readily 
in your wakeful hours
as it did in your dream
that you'd always be cognizant
how blessed you are
My life, my star

I closed my eyes
as I felt the burden slowly shift from my heart
though separation would come in the morning
nothing could steal the memory of that sound
that magical dulcet chime
of my daughter in her prime
blooming with love
for her true mother...
LIFE!

Yes, my sleeping angel
though goodbyes will be said
I know that everything...
Yes, everything
will be alright
for I heard you laugh
in your dreams tonight

Eileen Manassian Ghali

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