"gobbles" poems
What would you do if you saw a girl spending pennies and pearls on food?
She gobbles it up and then she barfs, which she thinks makes her feel good.
Later that night, with her conscious she'll fight as the guilt eats her for lunch
But she'll never tell of the story where of she went to after brunch.
May 26, 2018
May 26, 2018 at 9:08 PM UTC
A ***** couch rests in the living room,
Like an old green stump.
Worn from too many soap operas and football games
The pillows droop like tired eyelids.
The smell of exhaustion and grime clings to the well-worn skin
That itches if you get too close.
Dog hair is sprinkled across the cushions
Along with mysterious stains and crusty popcorn between seats.
It gobbles up change, remotes and secrets.
Far from a fairy-tale throne
It has as much romance as a sock.
But since the bedroom was off-limits,
It would have to do.
Mar 31, 2014
Mar 31, 2014 at 1:30 PM UTC
I keep on staring at the stars,
Thinking about the days I passed!
Fakeness has filled our place,
As if loyalty doesn't exist.
Rumours has occupied the way,
To make me feel completely lay.
Gobbles up my jovial spirit,
Still a pedestrian gets no merit!
Storms appear to roll me within,
Somehow saved myself from deep drowning.
Flew away even the beam of light,
When in darkness, I searched for thou.
But then from the back held my hand,
The footsteps approaching I heard in my way.
Back I turned to catch the sound,
Another betrayal was waiting around.
I still keep on staring the stars,
Thinking all about the days i passed!
May 1, 2018
May 1, 2018 at 1:44 PM UTC
The screeching sound of the metal tin can,
Pulls up around the corner of desperation.
Hair flying, adulation from fans,
You know its nothing but imagination.
Howls from inside echo through the sheet,
Music to the ears, and she gobbles it like nectar.
The door opens, and you're looking at her feet,
"Don't move, lest it should fester."
She speaks in an exotic tongue,
Like the animals in the wild.
She places a strong hand on your lung,
While your breathing goes mild.
The tool, ah yes, the tool,
She wields it like a paintbrush.
"Sit still, you pretty fool.",
She spouts, with an excited gush.
The lion's face peers at you,
From the far side of the room.
While a peculiar broth begins to brew,
And a dark mist begins to loom.
The rhino looks helpless on the wall,
Its horn standing out in the line.
" Oh, be calm you sweet little doll,
This should do just fine."
You can smell the taste of the wax,
And breathe in its visual splendor.
While her pleasure has reached its max,
Through the willing gifts, you lend her.
At last, its done and dusted,
And your face adorns the wall.
Wondering how on earth she could be trusted,
But alas! You cannot resist the caravan's call.
Jul 7, 2016
Jul 7, 2016 at 8:59 AM UTC
I've walked many places
Many journeys unspoken of
Inner cities of my mind
Underground railroad
The streets of Salem
Marching for the word
A whisper in a city's dream
I looked to see the faces
A look of determination
As their stomach starts caving in
Ribs poking out
Mountains of disire
Watching...
As the white man gobbles food
Grinning for another day
American flag flying high
Confederate sitting beside
Laughing at fallen man
Monsters of the cotton field
Fear nesting in remains
Bullets holes holding on
A home for sin
I am hungry and tired
Melting from the pits of hell
Or the ground of more to come
I'm sick
Needing treatment
Needing king
To help me march
And the true god to help me sing
And we watch
Oh we watch for hope to rain
Needing freedom on our plate
Believe me
We all are starved
Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 2:25 AM UTC
*
/ *
* * \
| \ * *
* * \ *
Fresh snowflakes continue to fall,
in case there'd be no squalls at all,
Let's make slow soundless paces,
and with our well wrapped limbs
we'll tread on vast white spaces
while humming joyful hymns.
Our eyes, we'll let them wander
through sun and serene blue skies.
our feet definitely will go yonder
on grounds soft, immaculate white,
like freezing fields of white cotton.
our shrieks and laughter won't be loud,
we'll go forward with much caution,
as a stillness gobbles up the sounds.
We calculate our steps...we reflect,
overwhelmed by a calming presence,
a break from life's noise...we accept
the peace of a reigning white silence.
sally b
©Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
December 26, 2021
#peace #snow #reflection #whitesilence #sallyb
Jan 17, 2022
Jan 17, 2022 at 8:57 PM UTC
He’s a material man
On a material planet.
Gobbles up money like a gannet.
Seeking status and promotion,
Upwardly mobile is his motion.
At his side is Madonna’s Girl,
In for a diamond, in for a pearl.
This poor creature has no soul,
Making a fortune his only goal.
Grandeur or Greatness is his God,
For the beauty of Nature he don’t give a sod.
This man doesn’t know what he is missing,
Life’s simple pleasures and Love’s real kissing.
Who really needs all those houses and cars,
Or getting seen in swanky bars?
What’s so fine about a designer label?
We seem to have built our Tower of Babel.
This man will be deaf to these words of mine.
The only mine HE wants, is a glittering Gold Mine.
Humanity divided into Rich and Poor,
Anyone sensible knows the score.
Nations chasing seas of oil,
While back at home the slaves they toil.
Waging wars for piles of money,
Everyone knows it isn’t funny.
Any hope for Material Man?
Unless he changes, he’s down the pan.
Please sir will you open your eyes?
Only Love is loved by the wise.
Paul Butters
Feb 15, 2016
Feb 15, 2016 at 5:27 AM UTC
this is a fine morning and the man in the bathroom mirror smiles
though he admittedly isn't the friendliest person but honestly
he seemed genuinely glad to be awake and alive on such an Autumn day
with the birds chirping and the window near the kitchen slightly ajar
allowing safe passage to a nice chill breeze. he finds the cat up as well
meowing "Good morning!" cheerfully and innocently in its tiny cat voice
and he chuckles and meows back in the most accurate manner available.
on the kitchen table there's a mug of coffee, the newspaper rolled like a cigar,
a plate of waffles, bacon, scrambled eggs and powdered happiness which
the man gobbles wholeheartedly while reading the day's fresh headlines:
President Declares Peace on Earth, Local Man Defeats Dog - Gives Too Many Treats,
Cop Buys Medical Lemonade From Child's Lemonade Stand, World Hunger Exterminated...
permitting the felines to rule our existence was truly the best of ideas!
Nov 8, 2015
Nov 8, 2015 at 2:37 PM UTC
Take me back to Chelsea please
Where the flossed and glossed smile at me
And everyone’s kind to an open mind
That’s materialistic in design.
Where locals embrace me all open armed
Whenever I’m crinkling cash in my palms.
So eject me fast from this boorish ******
And take me back to Chelsea please.
Take me back to Chelsea please
Outside the city’s financial squeeze
Where mummy and daddy pay the cheques
For my escargots and Ready Brek.
I’ll wield through the system with the family name
And use all the power of my local fame.
Oh, to live life without la joie de fees
Come take me back to Chelsea please.
Take me back to Chelsea please
To put my social norms at ease.
I miss my measly excuse of friends
Who constantly ***** to make amends
For their failed entrepreneurial careers
Their dialect a hodgepodge of gobbles and sneers.
I long for their monotonous wheeze
So take me back to Chelsea please.
Chelsea, Chelsea you’re all I adore
From the A308 to the A304.
You’re the sole nirvana I can’t bear to depart,
Your femmes fatales know the paths to my heart.
But you will always have the its lock and key
So Chelsea: come and take me back please.
Jan 8, 2017
Jan 8, 2017 at 5:47 PM UTC
The indifference of paper kaleidoscopes
touches the afternoon's stained glass.
Scattered bubbles of blood
repeat the vaporous names of rocks.
The world itself wavers between
straying syllables of books.
A blank moment arrives
staring at secrets made visible.
All day is the stillness of
unchanging light around the temple.
Between 'come' and 'go'
the same motionless theater of rest.
Time gobbles up
the elusively throbbing reflections.
Myself the ghostly transparency
made of circular-turning glass.
Sep 16, 2011
Sep 16, 2011 at 3:09 PM UTC
This sandstone sculpture,
soft, ephemeral, unreal,
we create every moment,
just for ourselves,
fighting the fragile nature
of the material, that
at once, facilitates,
and equally resists,
is both memory
and forgetfulness,
harmony and dissonance.
Tongues of time active ever,
love its taste, than anything else,
gradually gobbles it up
with relish.
Come, stop by,
and appreciate.
It won't be here,
after some more summers,
but it won't be destroyed too.
It would be the grains ,
in any sandstorm,
for ever.
Jan 12, 2013
Jan 12, 2013 at 11:26 AM UTC
My neighbor's dog is very strange
I just wonder if it is deranged
He takes a dump and then gobbles it up
What the heck is wrong with the pup?
It's the weirdest thing I've ever seen
And quite nauseating in the extreme
I recycle some stuff, but good grief!
This is a bit beyond my belief!
How does my neighbor really not know?
Just take a look out your window!
He must not know it though because
He let's the dog lick him without pause.
Maybe the dog has a sick sense of humor,
Or maybe he just has a massive brain tumor.
How can you not tell after you're licked?
The very thought of it is making me sick!
Doesn't his breath smell just a bit bad?
Doesn't it smell like **** just a tad?
I guess he saves alot on food.
But holy crap! C'mon dude!
Be alert and watch that pup!
Eating it's terds! He gobbles them up!
The dog needs time with Doctor Phil.
Or at least be put on some kind of a pill.
I'd tell the dude but I'll not be the one
To tell someone such news. Not even for fun.
So I'll let life go on and simply concede
It's just the way that dog likes to feed
But if I go over and visit him there
Of his dog's kisses, I think I'll beware!
Sep 30, 2012
Sep 30, 2012 at 6:46 PM UTC
Romantic moonlight edges over the mighty cupola;
I stroll enchanted by the timeless beauty of St Peter's Square;
I casually enquire of a passing nun whether she would consider
Going down on me behind the marble columns.
After a brief but heated haggle over the price
(I hitherto thought nuns were generous sisters of mercy)
She gobbles me professionally but rather noisily
Causing me to leave a generous donation on her dental plate.
I hear a half-strangled cry of "Bejasus" from a passing Paddy priest
As he gives himself a quick one off the wrist
Into his already badly stained cassock
Before hurrying off to keep a hot date with a choirboy.
Jul 25, 2016
Jul 25, 2016 at 3:20 PM UTC
The Cardinal knows that he is a pretty bird
Splendidly attired in feathers bright and gay
He publishes loudly; he will be heard
Among the squawks of mockingbird and jay
He gobbles and scatters husks, rusks, and seeds
In self-indulgent abandonment
He ignores all others in his wants and needs
They’re secular birds; they can take a hint
The Cardinal certainly loves to be seen
At the public feeder in all his pride
Attentive to fashions, and always keen
For the Best Birds to be posed at his side
But then one day
A few remnant feathers, a ripped cardinal’s hat -
He seems to have forgotten the watchful cat
May 9, 2018
May 9, 2018 at 2:49 PM UTC
Tonight is the night, be it All Hallows' Eve
One filled with fright most refuse to believe,
For deep amongst the shadows, silently lurking,
'Tis a terrifying creature, his jagged teeth smirking.
Thou hast all heard of demons, and hast battled thine ghouls
Whilst this terrible beast watcheth with hunger and drools.
It's spittle, like acid, can burn through thine flesh
Making thee so much easier to digest.
No name shalt be found for a creature so foul
That gobbles up goblins, and ogres disembowels.
Dost thou think that thine lanterns shall frighten it hence?
Oh foolish man, it shall consume the light thence.
It standeth hunched over, twelve feet in height;
Stalking thou, watching thou, waiting for night.
It cometh from deep within the forest, as the moon wanes
His fur smelleth of death, his claws favouring pain.
He shan't be stopped ere his hunt is over
Yet he only hunts the thirty-first of October
Take ye heed, then, and hear the warning of the raven
For this beast is coming, and from him there is but one haven.
He preyeth upon the weakest, and the one full of fear
So stand fast, take courage and in another likeness appear
Put on a mask, as treacherous as can be
Conceal what layeth within, do not let him see
Or else you shall be taken, beaten and devoured
For this beast prefers to torture just to see thee cower.
So please, take heed to this warning and believe;
Thou art only safe if thee wearest a mask on All Hallows' Eve.
11/3/16
Nov 15, 2016
Nov 15, 2016 at 12:13 AM UTC
Mixtape coming prolly sooner then expected
Just like me! But far more passion is invested
Into these nourished flourishing musicals channeling beauty
I know one day you'll see the shine no matter how you view me
You can hide inside & draw the blinds; ignore me, or adore me.
Story goes, the fire stays alive, throughout the winds it's soaring.
I am burning and i'm flying now, you'll hear me crying out
"My love is unconditional, come join me in this flying bout!"
Please come flow and fly around, melting the tempting forces
That are always shrieking "DON'T YOU DARE GO IN THAT AIR! THIS CHAIR IS HOME, *****
Traveling the speed of flight, no motors, cells, seatbelts, or doors.
You'll start to wonder why they never thought of shaking feet from floors
Or you could say "No thanks, I'm busy, I got all my medicine."
Ok... Just know i'll always be around to give your head a spin c;
Direction with a mending twist, I wanna see you free as ****
A lion cub, a rising sun, the shackles falling from your tongue
I'll never win, I'm loser loser, still I channel breath & depth,
So if you wish, the floor is yours, keep following the steps,
I and all who fly will soar so far beyond our deaths.
We're always getting better,
Till the sun gobbles the shelfs.
We crack a laugh back at the past,
Glad we made it past ourselves.
Scattered Thought.
Coming soon.
Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 5:05 AM UTC
This place was new to her
Tendrils of envy
That had over ran her heart
Like spilled ink
The witch gobbles six Lorazepam
Just to survive the after noon
And trips from her botched stride of self righteousness
Her inaccuracy, in her mind is fact
Her sense of superiority over shadows any type of kindness that trickles out every now and then
Her flippant demeanor
Is known and is spoken of in fork tongued folklore
Her spells of insanity and depravity
Leaving all the passes in a stated of relentless unease
She trots the ash covered cobble ****** alleyways of the sullen slums
And the scornful ****** watch from rusted fire escapes
Blades in hand, back-pocket crucifix
They swoop down and surround her
She who caused the drought, the death of all live stock and infants’ demise
She falls to the ground
“May the truths of the universe diminish your incantations!”
She screams
They cover their ears and douse her with holy water
Her skin peels revealing her grotesque scaly red skin
Her yellow eyes gleam as its pupils dilate
“And with these blades of sanctuary we obliterate your being”
A typhoon of stabs follows
And a sacred jar is laid out
To capture her spirit
So it may never return
Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 1:08 PM UTC
Such a trip this is
Together on this tour
Heartily I toil
For this is no great chore
But I ensconce away
Once the grouches
***** their inveighs
Safe from fools abrades
with no thought
and little aide
My pencil strokes are laid
So heavenly on the page
It tells us not to run
Stand against the shadow
let it not dislimn the Sun
The Machine The Machine The Machine
It gobbles away all our fun
Gus
My skin be-jeweled
In this prizm Lake
Just be here
- Don't be fake
Don't loose your love
in daft's wake
Let loose your love
Eyes wide
awake
No rush
I'm cool
Out here floating
in this pool
Dust just scatters
its own way
I'll be here
just swimming
Cleansed n Sane
Dec 27, 2011
Dec 27, 2011 at 9:47 PM UTC
My tongue sharpened today
Angles fell off it like classroom fancies
Rationalised to a point, its first act
Was to knock out my fangs from behind.
I stumbled about the house
Slopped through the bathroom door
And foamed at the toilet seat, a
Wave broken over a rim of briny coral.
My salt winked about the walls, around the tap, between the wiped tiles
In the shower head of porous sponge
The seaweed in the pipes crawled up
And drowned me in the sickly sweet.
Downstairs smelt the same, logically the sea dumped down
Underwater fish glided past my window, all with the same
Grim face against the mirrors, aping the ocean
With me trapped inside.
I turned on the same song, fifteen times,
The sound tried to reach me with such ambition
But it floated to the top, belly up in its bubbles
Ridiculous, I scratched the date on the seafloor and entered the kitchen.
Drips everywhere, grease stalactites, from the tiles, the yawning oven, the spatulas
A Cretaceous museum where savagery is kept
In little plastic boxes, with clear peelable lids
A fresh, messy ****
In the hall the grey light descends through slit windows
Colour settling at the bottom like grit, all the greys so tall
Give the narrow rectangle an aftertaste of dust
Just one keeper before me
It devours my key, hacking as it gobbles
But it does not anticipate my twist
I gut it from inside, it spits its meal back at me
And I swing its limp, dead frame 90 degrees.
Stepping out feels like a moonwalk, with Houston's neutral formulas
Unheeded in my ear, finally I can greet the clouds, that probably escaped,
Like me, fumes from the chimney
Pale and fading away from lack of auspicious sun.
Nov 10, 2020
Nov 10, 2020 at 1:15 PM UTC
My mother said beware the pips
and wipe your chin and sticky lips
now bin the skin and tidy up
put away your plate and cup
Or Else....
The watermelon tiger comes
with great white teeth and flashing eyes
he hungers for your sticky thumbs
and feasts upon your anguished cries
he gobbles down your fingers four
and licks his lips with growing glee
then in a flash he eats four more
and laps upon your misery
He licks your face to check for juice
and nibbles at your mucky chin
searching out seeds still hanging loose
giving him chance to tuck right in
Mummy mummy keep him away
I'll wash and scrub and brush and clean
pray let him far from me now stay
for I'm afraid he sounds so mean
So eat your food with gusto kids
and leave the kitchen like a swamp
but dont you dare shut tight your lids
as he will come to chomp Chomp CHOMP
Sep 19, 2012
Sep 19, 2012 at 7:09 AM UTC
The noonday demon striking at midnight,
The end of daylight, shadowing my cove.
A journey solitary in obnoxious overtures,
Or of demise denouncing such pails of ruin.
The noonday demon that dwells in my head.
That black cat of old, it looms large nigh.
Insignia, memoribilia .. it's scriptures swell.
Inscriptions in alien hand scribble my mind.
The noonday demon pushes me on edge.
A hairlength between relapse and freefall.
Arbitrary insignificance caress my nerves,
Neurotic endeavours imminent, and I halt.
Halt for thought, convictions sedate.
Paralysis; onset of dementia ensues.
And the noonday demon
Gobbles me up at midnight.
Nov 19, 2020
Nov 19, 2020 at 9:27 AM UTC
The lies that are brought to the table to nourish your family for another day,
There is pride, your wife. The one you hold dearest,
There is Ego your son,
Then there is gamble, your daughter,
And then there is the dog that hates you but loves everyone else,
Truth,
As you sit at the table Pride beams as you tell another story,
In her mind she wonders what actually happened,
You begin to slice the juicy ham of victory perfectly glazed with a hint of devilish intent,
And you pass a piece of ham around the table,
Truth begs but you kick him away,
Next the mashed potatoes fluffy with dreams ,
As the peas come around they fall and Truth gobbles them up off the floor,
A reminder of the money spent on each pea,
Finally the carrots , boiled to perfection with anger and regret,
The room goes quiet as you lead the family in saying grace,
Truth begins to bark,
You tell him to shut up but he barks louder,
You kick him, but you miss as he bites your leg,
You bleed the lies and you cry ,
For all of that effort to feed your family was for nothing,
So Pride, Ego, and Gamble turn to ashes as you pick up truth and walk away,
Mar 4, 2017
Mar 4, 2017 at 12:34 AM UTC
I get confused when
People discuss love as if
It's a vague word
But no it's so much more
Love was portrayed wrong
In fairytales because they introduced
Love at first sight
But didn't emphasize that love isn't about looks
Sometimes the evil villain
Could be the one with the pretty face
Or the one with the white horse
Whereas Prince Charming
Could be a pauper
Who has to work for a living and perspires a lot
He could be clad in not-so-fancy clothings
Then again,that's only one aspect of love
There could be siblings love
There could be passion
Also faith .
I witness love first hand,
when people pray
when a person gobbles up their food
Without showing off on social media
When a pair of old couple uses sign language to
Understand each other.
Love isn't so simple
It's weird and complicated but
One day, I want to have my own love story,
A little but less than a Fairytale.
Dec 6, 2013
Dec 6, 2013 at 11:39 AM UTC
maybe it's the weather
maybe it's because i'm turning a year older
but whatever it is, there is something
that gobbles me up from inside
and my bones get weaker and
my chest feels heavy and
i want to die
sunday to sunday i crawl to cling on to life
and i scrape my knees on the sidewalk
i think of tiny things that could possibly
change my tainted view of living,
i think about you.
Jul 10, 2016
Jul 10, 2016 at 6:11 AM UTC
She doesn't like to say
the "S" word.
Associates it with the
ones you see murmuring in the streets.
She heard the man's orders
to ingest little pills.
And I've never been more proud
to hear that she gobbles them down,
and I know she will
be more than
okay
Jul 7, 2013
Jul 7, 2013 at 9:28 PM UTC