Short Grunting Poems

Blank lines
The palate stairs
Back at me 
Grunting as I fill it up
Like an old staircase 
It groans under the weight
Of the human in the words...

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There was a young man from New York
He daily used to eat roast pork.
But  when someone gave him a fig
He began grunting like a pig
And then he went sadly to work....

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Tired as weary,and ancient and old,
Aching as grunting,and psychologically
bold!
Kicked down,and raised up,and kicked down
again,
Bent over and steadily wilted,like flowers
of the sin!...

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Warily watching, panning.
One meercat sharply scanning,
Gallantly guarding buddies
From all the big bad hoodies.
Falcons flying, cats hunting,
sneaky snakes, wild boars grunting.
Duty done, feeding time fun!...

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honking and grunting from
the gutbucket of hell,
angry as a burning parrot,
crazy as ju-ju,mad as the third eye,
divine and terrible,beyond all sense
a tenor sax that spikes your heart...

you got it man, you got it.......

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A grotesque gamer gobbles gummies grunting gleefully at his game. 
Sounds of slaughter spewing from the surround sound speakers.
The cunning commando combats a clearing 'cross countless cretins.
Validating his victory only after violently vanquishing the virtual villains....

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He tread the path                
Trudging and grunting 
Toward a deadened hope 

Vesting on his armour 
While taking off
His own honour 

Unsheathing his sight 
As his trusted sword 
He doubled his drag

Then with a  song
Sounding his faith
He made a silent plead...

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The coats are falling all over each other
We have tried to separate them
But they like being close and chummy
Pickpocketing each other's pockets
Rubbing their collars upside
Each other's necks
Sniffing and snorting
Grunting sometimes
This is when it is not easy
to be a coat check girl...

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Roast beef was fabulous!
I ate it so fast I could barely swallow.
Unfortunately it was insanely hot.
I am now suffering from burnt tongue.
This is day three. Almost thirty-seven hours later.
Why am I such a pig? I ask myself.
Grunting begins, and berating.
Louder and louder.
I laugh.
Shame no
longer works
on myself....

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I eat like a pig, scarfing, grunting, chewing, not tasting.
I want to blame my metabolism for my corpulent gluttony.
I am planning my next meal as I scarf down this one.
A giant bowl of ham, beans and cornbread.
Thinking about it makes me happy as a fat sow in a garbage truck.
I need to take a little nap to get ready for my next feeding....

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Men grunting 
Mothers sighing 
All wailing 
for the willing soul
With a lamenting pitch 
As he renders 
a resounding call 
With a rising Crescendo 
Prising into every heart
Wriggling while thrusting away
 from this wanton emptiness 
Seeking relief amidst his mortal folks
Hailing his willingness to abide 
As they rove around 
Daring fate to his face....

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Manual labor, sweating, straining, backs sore
Obnoxious and stubborn behaviors, family upset
Violent screaming, threats, tears, 
Irritability, tiredness, insomnia
Nasty moods and attitudes
Grumping, griping, grunting, gripping,
Disappointment, disillusionment, despair, 
Anger that we left our family and our real home
Yearning to believe things will be better here...

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The reading skills of many men
it’s said, would improve significantly
in the “reading room” when seated 
with the printed page, and facilitate
that daily regularity most needed
to prevent stubborn constipation
with an easy smooth evacuation
much less improve or alleviate
a halting grunting vocabulary.
To what extent he has success
that is anyone's guess.

...

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Taking a handful of their hair amid my palm I began to drag they
Screaming unto the cliff's edge while Bobby, held their prince at bay....
Grunting like a sow in heat his little horn gasping, for another days breath
While as her banshee queen pleads for just one more kiss; these waterfalls waiting
Melting skies poetic time seems ? Reverberating love's tears he cries heaven sighs, goodbye....

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The farther along life's road I go
I'm losing ground, moving slow
I huff and puff, grunting as though
I'm putting on a one-woman show

Still, it's comforting to know
Our Heavenly Father will bestow
blessings abundant here below
and grant us time to grow

But since the date of my birth
The largest expansion is my girth
Thereby lessening my worth
To other creatures here on earth...

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Obese,
and grunting,
sweating,
and munting,
trudging the kids off to school.

Puffing,
and panting,
raging and ranting,
You gotta stop eating, you fool.

Stop stuffing ya hodgers,
you fat lardy podgers,
you're eating far more than your share.
Your ass is immense,
like beach balls in tents,
what ya doin' just doesn't seem fair.

What about the Africans?

They ain't having any laugh-ricans....

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When she
bounces as
goat...
when she speaks
with aplomb
language I don't understand,
when she answers
grunting at what
I ask...
she laughs loose
with the grimaces
that I invent...
when with
much effort
she calls me fluffy...
I understand that she
  loves me then
I'm glad
  I understand perfectly
the mission to sow
the world...for her!
I feel a little
creator of
life in these
moments...!...

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Bury me in pity.
I constantly feel so shitty.
My fingers point to higher 
ground.
I try to speak, without a sound.

Grunting and growling.
I'm drowning.
The voices of my aching faces.
It's tiring, inspiring.
Just how long I endure.
My faces, they're jaded.
My soul, has faded.
It's goodbye, I'm sure.

Dig up my brittle bones.
The deeper, the stones.
I start to turn to dust.
This coffin,
I lay in,
is rust....

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Black beyond frozen shores,
Stellar winds blowing spawn.
Pocked lunar lithic pores,
Barren buds blooming dawn.
Shiny crust over mossed,
A young garden’s dew.
Moldy peach luster lost,
Glow spiders hazy blue.
Spores pulsate swelling nodes,
Shrieking howls grunting sounds.
Shrooms lactate yelling toads,
Shadow wolves' hunting grounds.
Silken silvered moon beams,
Silent short sanguine screams.

*iambic trimeter tetralexic sonnet...

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NOR COULD I FORETELL YOU

Before I leave I could see
Bated hoods ofTrials
Of love and life .
Protruding stuffed pocktes
Of havesack
Moth eaten trails and judgements
Of our love and life .

Heaving I left the terrain
Seeing not wayside brooks and inns
Exiles glaring and grunting
Nor could I foretell you for good.

Cab moved disinterestedly
Before I could hear
A deep moan fading out
That rose from our soul
Inside the embalmed body
Of our life....

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NOR I FORETELL YOU

Before I leave I could'nt see you
Bated hoods of trials
Of life and love .
Protruding stuffed pockets
Of havesack,
Moth eaten trails and judgments
Of our love and life.

Heaving I left the terrain
Seeing not wayside brooks and inns
Exiles glaring and grunting
Nor could I faretell your for good.

Cab moved disinterestedly
Before I could hear
A deep moan fading out
That rose from our soul
Inside the embalmed body
Of our life....

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My house is quiet,
kids have gone to sleep.
Don't want to make a sound,
as time to myself is now a treat.

I can hear my clock ticking,
the t.v playing music.
My fridge is also grunting,
my phone i will not use it.

As much as i love,
all three kids of mine.
There all ganging up on me,
But these walls i will not climb.

It's three against one,
and that's not really fair.
I'm waiting for the day,
when i get my first grey hair.

16/11/2015...

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When he's chalking trouble deep,

He'll be talking in his sleep,

If you peep, then you will find 

The fear that creeps in his mind;



Grunting and groaning in pain,

You'll hear him moaning again,

Those mutterings won't be clear,

His stutterings seem severe; 



He pours out his dreadful dreams,

A sudden shout, as he screams,

That cry of shock wakes him up,

His sleepy talk shakes him up.




(7 syllables per line) 


01/18/17...

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agitating and grunting sounds in my ears
hurt, but holding back my tears
will they ever grow?
many are the seeds we cultivate
but non grow nor even germinate
where do they go l wonder?


come thunder, come rain
rooted to the ground they remain
open wounds of unbearable pain
sorrow our hearts can't contain
is there hope of seeing,
each other again?
haunting pictures of you in our minds,
ti's beyond the understanding of human kind.
where do they go l wonder?...

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What instrument of fear larks?
What loss or pain?
What grunting black fancy yells?

You look into that hailstorm,
And feel, you are wounded with lumps of ice-piece
Stuck in your throat.

You feel, you are swallowing as if you were
As helpless as a snake,
Taking a food, heavier then it can afford.

Digestion leaves you no choice --
You need a powerful stomach.

Fear the food you take,
Fear the blank pain lives in you.

Fear, none but yourself
That, at the end, haunts your shadow....

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