"gulped" poems
I started drinking coffee, not because I enjoyed the taste, or even the burst of energy it gave me late at night, but simply because you loved it. Always seen with that coffee stained smile.
I hated it though.
I had hated its bitter taste that no amount of sugar or cream could sweeten.
I had hated the way it scorched my mouth and throat as I slowly gulped down the warm liquid.
But I drank it. Every morning and night, tricking my mind into thinking I liked it.
You soon moved on from my try-to-hard self, and left me all alone, with a coffee stained frown.
Jul 6, 2018
Jul 6, 2018 at 12:59 PM UTC
the coffee shop on 1st street
you told me my eyes were warm and belonged here
I shrugged and gulped my coffee even though it burned my tongue
the bookstore on 2nd street
you told me my hands were made of love from the pages I've turned
I glanced at you and nervously chewed my fingernails until it hurt
the music store on 3rd street
you told me my heart was an acoustic guitar that'd been misplayed
I tripped over my shoelace and madly tied them up along with my heart
the arcade on 4th street
you told me my smile was worth all the time and effort because I deserved it
I went to the bathroom and before I left I smiled in the mirrors a little too hard
the beach off 5th street
you asked me what I was so afraid of that kept holding me back
I let the sand crumble between my fingers and told you that I was the sand and you were the waves
Aug 8, 2014
Aug 8, 2014 at 1:48 AM UTC
Since the day we met, I am struck and stung
From that day, my inside is singing this song
All I want to do is see you and hold you
I want to tell you, I think I love you
When you come near my sight
My senses pop out and I lose my mind
I want to hold your hand and make you smile
I want to talk with you and walk a million mile
When you look at me and you touch me, I get butterflies
Your words fill the empty space where my heart lies
This heart has been crushed and cut with knife
Your voice, so sweet to me, bring it back to life
I was smashed; my feelings were burned down to ashes
Frustration gulped me and I got serious depression cases
I was lost for very long hours of years
Scared, taunted and hollowed with fears
Now I can see the spark in your eyes
I have fallen for you, and it’s no lies
My blur life has changed to a beautiful bokeh
I want to confess I love you......................
Feb 15, 2014
Feb 15, 2014 at 9:51 PM UTC
You were magnificent.
Everyone saw danger in
Black jeans with ink black boots
But I saw a handsome mystery.
People said that you were begging
For trouble and that you were
Going no where fast.
My friends said that you would break my heart
And lead me down a path that
Ended in a not so nice place.
You were my first love.
I remember the smell of
Cigarettes and alcohol clinging to you.
You were my first drug.
I injected myself with your presence
And gulped down your lies
Like the cheap beer we bought.
One midnight I creeped out
To meet you at that bar
Where no one in their right mind
Would go.
Smoke was heavy in the air
And *** was going on in dark corners.
Alcohol flowed freely and showed no sign of stopping.
It was there that we kissed.
Two turbulent years later
We had moved up to that section of the woods
Where people got high.
You stared at the stars but
You seemed to see through them.
It was there that I said,
"I love you."
Those little words danced on the wind
And quietly entered your ear.
At first you didn't do anything
Then you slowly moved your face
Towards mine.
The moonlight shone down and
The stars were on fire,
They were so bright.
You stared at me.
No, through me.
In that moment I realized something.
Everyone was right.
You were trouble,
On the fast track to no where,
And danger in black jeans.
My heart shattered to pieces.
I left you
And that dark path that you led me down.
Even now as I lay in bed,
Aching for your touch
I regret nothing.
You are still magnificent.
My drug in black jeans with matching boots.
My handsome,
Handsome
Mystery.
Jul 12, 2013
Jul 12, 2013 at 12:27 PM UTC
*The world where I stood was a desert
thirsty for a pint of rain;
longing for a kiss that never came.*
Not until you did.
Everything started with a droplet of your essence,
Out of nowhere. Unexpected.
YOU... yes you MANIFESTED.
*Without notice, you took me by surprise.
A beautiful surprise I say.
For the first time in a while I felt,
my worries washed away by your presence.
Hot sand turned mud where then I lay.
In those moments I lost,
all anxieties brought by drought.
When through the years I thought
I'd never touch the rain I ought
to ardently pray for every night.
Imbued I was with your* "love".
clothes soaked. body wet. soul drunk.
*your name the promise I mutter through the drizzle.
This body jived to the beat of a million sizzle.
Moments passed faster than it seemed.
I, taken away by lust of a parched soul.*
I slurped. I gulped. I glugged.
*as much as I could, never thinking of
what I would drink in the latter.
When the land runs dry;
when then again,* I'm deprived of water.
*So then, what caught me by surprise,
left without a word... woah,* SURPRISE!
everything turned back the way it was;
an arid heart in a blink of an eye.
*But what makes me wonder is this delusive sense,
of your cooling touch amidst this false pretense;*
I smell–
*Your scent stick to my chest like perfume odour.
My nostrils clogged with the aroma of your neck.
A waft that distorts the senses of this* consumed man.
Thoughts of you linger long after you are gone...
Like the fragrance of rain that stays after the downpour.
Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 9:06 AM UTC
The trees juice swallowing
Dread-locks opening the
key to my heart
Pulling Amber Agate to the end
wishing the wagon
was my good luck hand
So helpful than my
hallucination struggling
wilderness mission
Apple abandoned Mcintosh
her computer
The thirst compelled her
So Gingerly lemon tea
4 -2 beer pockets
Four letters not to like
H-E-L-P____$$$
if you only knew abandoned hike
Imagining stew of rabbits
Four people Fast Wendy
4 meals for 4
Sahara desert burger
The Amber ghost of
two wrinkled catalyst
Did time desert me
4:44? Paralyzed list
No Star wars may the
force be with Amberlized
Quicksand lowered
water was drying
Her abandoned party
type Diva evaporated lava
Amber the corner of her lip
all pruned couldn't sing
Slenderman slumber nails and dirt
Amber people are the strange
wagon getting hurt
1- Hot it is (..)
2- Is it wrong to feel abandoned
3-Wrong being sold out to Uncle Sam
What was?
4- Was she blinded all alone S-O-S
5- SOS surrender distressed wood belong?
6- Belong to be dumped
near a wagon deadbeat song
7- Song didn't move lonely emptiness
, please help
8- Help wanted not just any sign
9- Sign was stolen and Amber rose
10- Rose so ember plain and desert storm
he gulped
11- Gulped left with one (.)
12- One far two stars bygones
13- Bygone the last line 13 I= phones
Help______
deleted numbers
Now don't disappear on me
I was abandoned too many times
The dirt and the sand stayed still
No cell phone picture to install
Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 7:03 AM UTC
A handy Mole who plied no shovel
To excavate his vaulted hovel,
While hard at work met in mid-furrow
An Earthworm boring out his burrow.
Our Mole had dined and must grow thinner
Before he gulped a second dinner,
And on no other terms cared he
To meet a worm of low degree.
The Mole turned on his blindest eye
Passing that base mechanic by;
The Worm entrenched in actual blindness
Ignored or kindness or unkindness;
Each wrought his own exclusive tunnel
To reach his own exclusive funnel.
A plough its flawless track pursuing
Involved them in one common ruin.
Where now the mine and countermine,
The dined-on and the one to dine?
The impartial ploughshare of extinction
Annulled them all without distinction.
5k
I clenched my fist and gritted my teeth as I gulped;
My head tilted upwards and stared at the sky filled with the
blue color that reminds me of your eyes filled with
wonders, trying not to look directly into the windows of your
soul;
I did all these not to suppress my anger, but something even more
difficult;
But no matter what I do, everything is not under my
control and will
never be
For these tears still streamed down my cheeks filled with deep sorrow and melancholy;
Yes, it's hard;
It's making me bleed so much that I feel like I'm dying yet still continuing to
breathe;
It's far more arduous than any predicament that I have encountered in my whole existence;
Yet I still have to do it;
For I cannot continue any longer to hurt you by offering you my heart, my dear;
As you continue to heal and purify all my sins
While all I ever do is
corrupt
your soul and drag you in the the deepest and darkest abyss that I call
home;
Darling, I am now setting you free and breaking the chains that
restrict
you from ascending into the
limitless sky where you truly
belong, so flap you wings
and fly to your
well-being;
Goodbye.
Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 1:40 PM UTC
Once.
It happened
I felt bad about it
But then washed that memory away.
Twice.
It happened,
A silly mistake
But then the weight built up on me
Still I didn't feel or see
And walked on the same path.
Thrice.
It happened again
My eyes slightly opened
But they were in deep meditation
For the wrong choice of words
That I still didn't realise.
Then the world collapsed beside me
And my eyes were half open
They were blurred up
So much by tears
That the crooked world in front me
Appeared to be straight.
Then the end came
And the world was gulped down
By the mysterious darkness
Created on my own.
I slowly drowned
And my eyes opened
I saw it all clearly
But it was too late
I saw it clearly
But now I am a clean slate.
Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 7:02 PM UTC
next to my cup of hot bitter coffee
my bowl has a cone
an avalanche of heartache cereals
that is about to fall...
a plate of
peppered uncertainties omelet
beckons to be gulped and wiped out....
but, alas, i feel already stuffed
i can no longer swallow...
-----------
i decided to skip breakfast....
Sally
Copyright 2013
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Oct 19, 2013
Oct 19, 2013 at 9:17 AM UTC
My superman, my duke, my demigod!
Ahh your visage was absolute perfection!
"I'm in control, you're in my world now"
I chanted in my thoughts many times -
I approached you with so much confidence
Femininity was my golden armour
Seduction was my double edged sword
Slowly, lustily, hungrily - - - -
WAIT!
**** This dream was my realm
Then why was she here with you?
I gulped down my surprise because
You stared and smiled at me gently
"Oh, my prince charming" I thought
You nodded at me and said respectfully
"My fiance & I would like to order our lunch..."
I didn't hear you because I fell on a black-hole!
I suddenly woke up with tears on my cheeks
I didn't know which was worse actually
My dream last night about you and her or
The reality that you will never be mine - - -
Nov 21, 2016
Nov 21, 2016 at 9:10 AM UTC
Made an ocean before a drop
Of water dried-up before it's mopped
A shoot before the backdrop
creative feeling before she gulped
Beauty before the beholder
or let say before he behold her
Grown before she could be older
Timid before, She is bolder
Loved, before realizing they are ****
Yet to get the love-in, but he has come
He's here, she will yet describe him as gun
Only shoots around, like he's as* god
Now, she wished what was dim was clear
Like courage coming before the fears
She hoped this affair could be fair
Like seeing the future before it appears
-Pastorlee
May 8, 2021
May 8, 2021 at 8:25 PM UTC
1. I was outside shoveling horse **** considering the more **** I piled up, the less you'd deal with when you came home.
2. I woke up every night at 2, unfamiliar to having the bed all to myself, curled around a pillow like a buoy far from shore, sea sick in the choppy water, my vision reduced to abstract smudges. I focused on what must have been your silhouette as I gulped cups of salty water half a mile into the ocean, exhausted and drowning.
3. Medicinal marijuana alleviates anxiety. I won't swear on depression, I believe, there are four types of depression. Blue dreams are most desirable, every day for 8 months.
4. You've probably seen this desktop orb that captures electrical currents, so when you touch it with your fingers violet bolts ignite against your glass fingerprint. With this light, 2 a.m. I scoop the sandman's hash into my pipe so i can get some rest from my past who caught up to me a few days ago.
5. Dreamer. Heartbreaker. Deep thinker. No harm has come -- to--- you.
6. When it gets dark again, run baby run. Spin around with my eyes on his, reveal the wreck behind my lids, at the thought of losing him, not to another woman, but to Fate. Hold him tight. Make love like you mean it, not to **** but to tie two hearts together as they bleed. It's bloodstains on the white sheets, two people loved here like death sat by the dinner table, waiting on his appetizer.
7. The cruel morning illuminates his naked body as he slept. I cried because I didn't know if dreamed of pleasing me. Why did I let things I couldn't control worry me?
Feb 21, 2013
Feb 21, 2013 at 5:51 PM UTC
Belinda lived in a little white house,
With a little black kitten and a little gray mouse,
And a little yellow dog and a little red wagon,
And a realio, trulio, little pet dragon.
Now the name of the little black kitten was Ink,
And the little gray mouse, she called her Blink,
And the little yellow dog was sharp as Mustard,
But the dragon was a coward, and she called him Custard.
Custard the dragon had big sharp teeth,
And spikes on top of him and scales underneath,
Mouth like a fireplace, chimney for a nose,
And realio, trulio, daggers on his toes.
Belinda was as brave as a barrel full of bears,
And Ink and Blink chased lions down the stairs,
Mustard was as brave as a tiger in a rage,
But Custard cried for a nice safe cage.
Belinda tickled him, she tickled him unmerciful,
Ink, Blink and Mustard, they rudely called him Percival,
They all sat laughing in the little red wagon
At the realio, trulio, cowardly dragon.
Belinda giggled till she shook the house,
And Blink said Week! , which is giggling for a mouse,
Ink and Mustard rudely asked his age,
When Custard cried for a nice safe cage.
Suddenly, suddenly they heard a nasty sound,
And Mustard growled, and they all looked around.
Meowch! cried Ink, and Ooh! cried Belinda,
For there was a pirate, climbing in the winda.
Pistol in his left hand, pistol in his right,
And he held in his teeth a cutlass bright,
His beard was black, one leg was wood;
It was clear that the pirate meant no good.
Belinda paled, and she cried, Help! Help!
But Mustard fled with a terrified yelp,
Ink trickled down to the bottom of the household,
And little mouse Blink strategically mouseholed.
But up jumped Custard, snorting like an engine,
Clashed his tail like irons in a dungeon,
With a clatter and a clank and a jangling squirm
He went at the pirate like a robin at a worm.
The pirate gaped at Belinda's dragon,
And gulped some grog from his pocket flagon,
He fired two bullets but they didn't hit,
And Custard gobbled him, every bit.
Belinda embraced him, Mustard licked him,
No one mourned for his pirate victim
Ink and Blink in glee did gyrate
Around the dragon that ate the pyrate.
But presently up spoke little dog Mustard,
I'd been twice as brave if I hadn't been flustered.
And up spoke Ink and up spoke Blink,
We'd have been three times as brave, we think,
And Custard said, I quite agree
That everybody is braver than me.
Belinda still lives in her little white house,
With her little black kitten and her little gray mouse,
And her little yellow dog and her little red wagon,
And her realio, trulio, little pet dragon.
Belinda is as brave as a barrel full of bears,
And Ink and Blink chase lions down the stairs,
Mustard is as brave as a tiger in a rage,
But Custard keeps crying for a nice safe cage.
Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 5:15 AM UTC
5:00 am - Happy New Year!
I look like I should be a musician not a poet.
"It's so easy being a poet
so hard being a man"
- Charles Bukowski
----
5:14 am - Passing Rocklea, no sign of the dawn.
Coopers Plains station.
3 people get on.
Florescent lights cast a spell of sleep.
I wish I could sleep right now.
Eyelids droop like sad flowers from a convenience store.
I write metaphors like a drunken amateur.
Trinder park - Sounds like a bad neighbourhood.
**** ME ITS WOODRIDGE.
Where even the McDonalds sign is ******
XxXxxxxxx, Xxxxxx Xxxxxx :
She could be fun. So tight, she sometimes felt illegal.
Tight and bald. I would slide up to the *****
She loved it rough,
golden hair wrapped around my fingers
as she was pushed into the pillow.
She was loud in the mornings.
I could feel her tight ***
grinding against my thighs
as I ****** her harder and harder.
Until I came :
either inside her.
Or on her chest.
Or in her
prim
pink
suburban mouth.
Tightening my grip on her hair as the hot ***** spurted against the back of her throat.
The head of my **** throbbing as she gulped it down with silent satisfaction.
That only happened twice though.
----
5:37 am - The Dawn begins to rise over the Suburban Nation.
Final remnants of night
twinkle like stars
against the silhouette
of society.
House lights
Street lights
(and the omnipresent)
fluorescent light.
Beenleigh station - A pinch faced older woman gets on.
Business suit, lunch box.
Short hair, glasses.
Her earrings are imitation mother of pearl
(step-mother of pearl?)
She sits next to a window covered in graffiti.
Prim, tight mouth
incarnadine lipstick.
Over in the distance a smokestack cuts through the sky above the horizon.
Trees do mask the sun and sky.
"Hippies; they spend their whole life trying to get to a microphone and when they do, they don't tell anyone to **** off." - The Wolfman.
----
5:52 am - One more stop.
The clouds are the colour of smoke against the pearl blue sky.
----
6:00 am - Arrival.
Clouds are tinged with fire and blood
incandescently.
You can watch it spread and grow
with intensity.
Taxi driver was a foul mouthed Indian.
May 22, 2013
May 22, 2013 at 2:25 AM UTC
Look at that little light bulb
Switched off in disgrace
White but dull, all light gulped,
Deep inside its face
Is it worth being replaced?
Try switching it on,
Try bringing out its inner light,
Try encouraging it to illuminate,
Try giving it a second chance,
But, no, it is now out of date.
You take it out,
Throw it in the trash
It was always meant to break,
It shatters into unfixable peices in one crash
Like this lightbulb
Am I the next one you're going to replace?
Jun 20, 2015
Jun 20, 2015 at 3:45 PM UTC
Cock-a-doodle-do! Cock-a-doodle-do!
Cockcrow! Wake up, you poor humans!
The crazy, heartless sapient-irrationals!
You glug your cocktails in our names,
And slay, roast, and offer us to God,
And atone slyly your un-atonable sins.
Our lovely sickle tails, you used, once,
To concoct the cocktails you gulped;
And coveted our red comb and wattle,
The bright yellow of our cape and hackle,
The glittering blue of our wing bows,
And the violet-red of the back and saddle.
Oh no! Don’t strip us of our fair plumage
Our sickle, main tail and the lesser sickle,
Our fluff, hock joint, shank and the spur,
To the toes and claws, for you to toil
Hard, to fry--stir-fry—us, **** in your oil,
For your vain cocktail-less cocktail summits.
Dec 23, 2013
Dec 23, 2013 at 8:47 AM UTC
Cock-a-doodle-do! Cock-a-doodle-do!
Cockcrow! Wake up, you poor humans!
The crazy, heartless sapient-irrationals!
You glug your cocktails in our names,
And slay, roast, and offer us to God,
And atone slyly your un-atonable sins.
Our lovely sickle tails, you used, once,
To concoct the cocktails you gulped;
And coveted our red comb and wattle,
The bright yellow of our cape and hackle,
The glittering blue of our wing bows,
And the violet-red of the back and saddle.
Oh no! Don’t strip us of our fair plumage
Our sickle, main tail and the lesser sickle,
Our fluff, hock joint, shank and the spur,
To the toes and claws, for you to toil
Hard, to fry--stir-fry—us, **** in your oil,
For your vain cocktail-less cocktail summits.
Nov 7, 2013
Nov 7, 2013 at 11:00 AM UTC
Who was the last to wear your body?
Parting petals upon modest fingertips
Supple mouth which you tumbled willing
And gulped until tamed .
Laid steamed and wet awaiting the sun
to bellow through curtains
as the
scene laid out
like an easy
****** mystery
Aug 16, 2015
Aug 16, 2015 at 12:58 AM UTC
You fumble with the cigarette
It is carelessly balanced between your index and middle finger
Like how you see in the movies
You hesitantly tapped it on the corner of the ashtray
You forced a confident smile
Coughed uncontrollably
Claimed it was a flu
But knew it was not
You poured too much ***** into your glass
And you gulped it bottoms up
You suppressed a look of disgust
And said it was good
You asked for another glass
Even though you were tipsy
And could not stand still
The white smoke
and false strawberry scent filled the room
You saw the bubbles
and the burning charcoal
We were blowing rings
and imitating dragons
You asked for a go
We couldn't say no
You swallowed the gas whole
You choked
you gagged
But said it felt good
And tasted strawberries
You couldn't wait for your turn again
Even though you couldn't breathe
without clearing your throat
You weren't enjoying yourself
But I guess everyone already knew
But beneath the bloodshot eyes
Frequent retching
Croaking throat
I saw a boy
that just wanted to belong
k.m.
Aug 10, 2013
Aug 10, 2013 at 2:01 AM UTC
You caught lightning in your mouth
and kissed the world a thunderstorm
All Four Winds bleeding out,
moment by moment
and stilling the night;
instill it with silence.
Infuse it with waiting
bait our breaths--
_--The ocean's saline, and
I'm surprised to say,
it seems to like us.
Lips can clamp or loosen,
catch and hold or unleash.
Choose one?
it's catch-and-release._
I gulped wondering into my mouth
and I spit out an omen.
Dolmen smile fading now;
twin teeth releasing
floodwaters
from this tomb door of a frown.
Quell the squalling night;
implanting our silence.
Infused with surrender.
Hold no breath.
Anyway...
We don't check on each other...
_...or look at our neighbors._
Yesterday's just that, friend.
Sep 12, 2025
Sep 12, 2025 at 3:19 PM UTC
I walk down sugar-coated streets,
stumbling over rumor weeds poking up through the cracks
and fearing the whispers that I think I hear.
I watch the candy people walking around,
******* each other dry one way or another
like leeches with sweet teeth.
They make sour faces,
like ******* lime soda through a Sour Punch Straw,
but they keep ******* because there’s nothing else to do in Candyland.
I have to look really hard to find the sweet people.
The gummy ones, the melt in your mouth chocolate ones.
Sometimes I find them half-eaten and discarded like office lollipops
and sometimes they’re melting under everyone’s Red Hot gaze.
Sometimes I only find wrappers
and I get so angry that I think I might melt myself.
Because these people have been eaten.
****** nibbled, gulped down
like nothing more than a quick Kiss that means nothing.
But no matter how small they were, they still mattered.
They mattered to someone,
but now they’re just slick remnants on cellophane or foil.
And what hurts even more is that I couldn’t save them.
I’m not Princess Bubblegum,
I can’t protect a candy kingdom.
But that doesn’t mean I can’t try.
Jul 21, 2013
Jul 21, 2013 at 1:25 PM UTC
Pickled on quixotic tonics
he strives for a polyglot's poise,
balancing plaster peas
at the end of his tippler's tongue.
But the rough-surfaced pearls prickle
his too-ticklish bed of pink,
and gulped down, he administers
only a lessoned indigestion.
Flipping the flop, he prevaricates
himself into the tight-fit corners
of a parallelogram traced
by unsolemn processionals
bedecked in platitudinous finery.
Their porous smirks drip sticky
reminders of a plethora
of previously pernicious exercises
and dampen his fluffy ambition,
prodding procrastinations until
his drunken promise dries out
to become a posthumous wish.
Apr 7, 2010
Apr 7, 2010 at 5:03 PM UTC