Short Guttural Poems

mother’s milk all gone 
 starved polar bear cubs alone
       faint guttural drones


By
David Kavanagh...

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chirping thunderstorms
dawn’s fog thick, jags asunder —
guttural midday


2/11/2021...

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Eyes
burning
in the night;
guttural growls.
Steer clear of the woods
or you may be
dinner for
hungry
wolves!

...

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In the darkness, glowing tiny green lamps.  No, that is not thunder; 

a guttural intonation echoes.  Crispy crunching dead twigs, 

reveal black cougar; frozen I cannot run!
...

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Guttural interval
Buzzing in falls
I don't buzz
I am in bus
What is that mom?
Who are you mom?

Nocturnal removal
Tweeting in walls
I don't reuse
I am in my dose
Where are you mom?
Which one mom?...

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Growl
Grasp at life
Flushed out in full flight
Wind's wild moaning warmth
Frisks it, whisked
Up
From fist clench
Fingers curled tense- tight
Unfurl hurts
Gasps
Of air rasped
Hoarse sounds break from husk
Gutted heart
Thumps

Posted 2017....

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For years she ironed and starched all his clothes  
she was haunted by demons like Emily Rose    
when put to the test  
who would have guest  
that guttural sound sent the waves to her toes. 


 
July 15, 2022 
Sponsor	Lisa YY
Contest Name	Limerick...

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Whispered, sweet nothings,
Skin caressed,
Sheen of sweat,
Barely dressed.
Laboured breaths,
Closed eyes,
Featherlight touches, 
Quiet sighs.
Guttural groans,
A devilish tease,
Animalistic passion,
Begging pleas.
Strong arms,
Heated kiss,
Pure lust,
Discovered bliss....

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Rising tall
in the thicket,
cresting with
force nestled
behind matted
fur and eight
fresh gashes
scabbing
firm,
the elder
intimidates
with rattling
force only
guttural
pronouncements
designed to
instill fear

or 
spark
resolve,
pivoting
an element
of battle that
shatters poise....

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I'm writing too many words
About the frightening experience
Of losing it - guttural cries
Out of body/trapped in body
Simultaneously
I'm numb now
My throat hurts
I don't know what will help me
Instinct is giving me nothing I can work with
Maybe I can sleep
See how I am tomorrow
I don't have much choice...

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My regrets are speaking softly,
Guttural sounds too low for me to hear
And in a tongue strange to my ear
But ominous as a black cloud,
And I fear that one day
The Tower of Babel will lean in,
Grinding on ancient stones,
And unlock those odious words for me,
Revealing everything I already knew
Was wrong
But refused to accept....

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winter
greetings
on a breeze
straight from
North Pole

cordial 
hellos
and 
jolly tidings

deep from
within
the heart
warmest
wishes
for 
joyful
merriment

cheerful
guttural
wholesome
belly laughs

come on
over
for
cookies
and
hot chocolate



AP:  Honorable Mention 2020

Posted on December 11, 2019...

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Listen to poem:

Murmurs and mumbles
are sounds mimpathic.
Uttered with sympathetic feelings,
but without the guttural loud utterings
that empathy with heart-felt solidarity
and compassion demands.
Mimpathy falls short of full-throated emotional support.
Mimpathy is standoffish aloof and half-hearted.
Murmurings with mimpathy
are rather pathetic....

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Dedicated to a Nun that was raped by a Hindu gang in Orrisa in India.

Bondage dawdles but dauntless rambler.
Glimmers as goblin a goblet gambler.
A heartburn glory chalks a chandelier.
A granite lineage outdistanced gondolier.

Responsive restitution a splitter sponger,
Guttural estuary grumbles bounded cavalier.
A bony strangled receptacle receiver,
Keynote bolted storm violate believer....

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Fado 
What do we do with Fado, this guitar sound and 
guttural Portuguese voice that has a twang of
Arabia in its heart and is pure poesy.

Life, loss longing and the finality of death, is in 
songs that celebrate love’s unbearable sweetness, 
our tragedy and the unobtainable.  

Yes, sing me a Fado, let me hear the guitar and
I will close my eyes float in a sea of melancholy
and remember you....

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this isn't you
 not your style
 guttural rasps
 that barely scratch the surface;
this isn't you
 not your style at all
 too many remnants of memory
 when time held you in place;
I see your dark shadows
 walking close behind you
 small, minuscule and demure
 but still walking are the ghosts of you;
this isn't you
 not the pseudo images, well-formed
 from the very heartbeat
 of which you were born....

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Whenever programs are cultural,
Zatu's thin voice richly cultural,
All his speech pauses the junctural:
Not what hearers might term The Natural...

But should it not be unnatural:
Sessions with The Supernatural?
Zatu's clear words soon esoteric,
Strange attacks by The Enteric
Bla - Bla - Bla: a final Uric
Prayer for oil-wells with derrick...

After culture Thin Voice is back:
The Guttural he starts to lack!...

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Weekend Commute

I dissolved into grey crowds
Flooding Londons underground,
Loosing my identity in the flow,
Swimming with currents,
Counter cultural, guttural,
Warmed by the sight,
Of many travellers,
Taking their luggage,
For constitutional walks.

@Andrew Carnegie, Post Paddington, 7th Jan 2017


If you would like to know a bit about me and my poetry please click this link below:
https://youtu.be/Ic_V7aX4xbk...

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I thought today I could make it work

it wasn’t so much the sadness

as lightness

as bottled crocodiles and persimmon fungi

as broken arrows across the ascended 

the ascended ones I shan’t recall 

as they won't allow it

today I make this work

as tears turn to conserved weapons

that ignite and sting every limb

as guttural music I can’t quite grasp

drips down my moldy walls

today

i thought

today reacts...

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Here my guttural wombat cry
I'm envisioning a life without you...
This ridiculous school bus pandering-
Let the mafia emerge from underground
Shell the streets down
To choke this gasoline vibe

What were you hoping this time around?
Let the karma ferris wheel fly off the boardwalk
And skittles pepsi cola families
Hit the rebound
Your sucking the atmosphere dry

I'd rather dig a grave than participate
I'll be a carpenter bee
To your massive unparalleled stupidity...

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Nimbus gather above, racing swiftly upon the wind
With face lifted to the darkening tendrils of her skies,
my breath crashes like thunder hammering a loud din
as her twin scepters of lightning flash before my eyes

I behold the majesty of the siren's long pent release
She touches the deepest roots of my stimulated soul
In guttural voice she commands the storm to cease
Captivated, I am enslaved by the tempest in control


July 15th, 2017...

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Her putrid tree limbs
hold the glass in magnetic swain
Her Latin chants and mumbles
Drawing power from the shadows
that wear her like a shroud
As her chant crescendos
Mirrored mist moves within its
twisted silver frame
Darkness stumbles into light
Images punch and falter
Grasping tendrils
trail the mirror
from the other side
tasting for a way through
Her voice now guttural
Scream and grunts
Shes dead now
No more excuse
Tell me
Who is the fairest of them all?...

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Burning eyes pierce the darkest night;
injecting fear into black air.
Their power lends, so much fright,
To anyone who ventures there.

Swirling shadows play about 
and whispers through the plants.
Trees bend and bow, to call straight out,
the warning in advance.

The darkest shadow walks nearby; 
it watches everything.
Sight unseen, a guttural cry, 
from the jungle, rings.

Beware the Panther’s hunger pains;
just run before you end up maimed.
...

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