Long Gutteral Poems
Long Gutteral Poems. Below are the most popular long Gutteral by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Gutteral poems by poem length and keyword.
Bhami
Slow down take a run
Wobbly—?dribble?— dabble addled eye balls gawking at.. what is that? First encounter of the second kind
Clanging?—?clinging?—?cloistering—?changin colours in daytime
Running lights off on subway hell
Foil coil toil boil the beef stock until sober
Heat draws itself up?—from the toes?—to the feet?— up up in to— (glands bulge) your inner organs?—liver slowly dying?tangled?—?triangle?— shaped kidneys?—?tingling?—?ringing ears?—?wet hands burning
‘Hot in here, isn’t it’ I say to whoever is near
My partner in this crime of non reasoning
For a squeeze of lemon?— top of the class?— cherry pop given freely without rates
Norman Bates-- scary film!--rhymes with times--dimes--pines--grimes
Steinmann Gloria Gaynor born to be alive pal gal mal Quel?
Slattery lids opening wide with ferocity
Gutteral gluten?— free galloping for horses
Productive?—?creative?—?tired up in addled mind
Hole drilled into a cavity in the brain?—?chemicals floating around point blank?—?blood constricted to a ball of ice-peaked at Antarctica poles apart
Taking the time
Like the wind takes sheath from sword?—?points blank
Shooting fast?— slowing down
Run?— sun?— pun?—?drum for your life?—
Because there’s not much of it left after this
The End
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.
Kneeling, rainsoaked in the Garden
Begging for Gods pardon
A low gutteral moan
Emerges from his soul
No longer whole
Mankind stripped of his presence
Because of his offence
No more walks in the cool of the evening
No more blessings from above,
No more bathing in his love
One apple
One bite
Doomed to walk alone at night
Creation removed from glory's light.
He feels his body in decay
For letting temptation have its way
Oh how he wishes it could all go away
He sees the future thats now paved
He wonders if his world can be saved
This guilt he cradles to the grave
But he sees a saviour in another age
Who will rewrite mankinds page
The single hope his kind will live
He hopes one day they can forgive.
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
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
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
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
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
"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
Bhami
Slow down take a run
Wobbly—?dribble?— dabble addled eye balls gawking at.. what is that? First encounter of the second kind
Clanging?—?clinging?—?cloistering—?changin colours in daytime
Running lights off on subway hell
Foil coil toil boil the beef stock until sober
Heat draws itself up?—from the toes?—to the feet?— up up in to— (glands bulge) your inner organs?—liver slowly dying?tangled?—?triangle?— shaped kidneys?—?tingling?—?ringing ears?—?wet hands burning
‘Hot in here, isn’t it’ I say to whoever is near
My partner in this crime of non reasoning
For a squeeze of lemon?— top of the class?— cherry pop given freely without rates
Norman Bates-- scary film!--rhymes with times--dimes--pines--grimes
Steinmann Gloria Gaynor born to be alive pal gal mal Quel?
Slattery lids opening wide with ferocity
Gutteral gluten?— free galloping for horses
Productive?—?creative?—?tired up in addled mind
Hole drilled into a cavity in the brain?—?chemicals floating around point blank?—?blood constricted to a ball of ice-peaked at Antarctica poles apart
Taking the time
Like the wind takes sheath from sword?—?points blank
Shooting fast?— slowing down
Run?— sun?— pun?—?drum for your life?—
Because there’s not much of it left after this
The End