"spluttering" poems
There, in God’s country, the benign ruler
Had promptly burst out of the earth’s bowels.
A sea of coconuts smothered, sultrily,
The most unwilling moss-painted houses
The banyan raised its feet high enough
For hundreds of creepy monsoon-creatures.
The journey began in silver slanting rain
Waiting for streaks of pure white sunshine
To crawl through upright areca nut barks.
As the telephone wires went up and down
A floating bird quickly froze in the sky.
First the coconut fronds ran to the hills
Then the chilly plants , go red in the face
Inside, they of the uncertain *** beat the wind
Out of their joined palms in forced cadence.
The floor-mopping boy under our large feet
Looked with money-wetness in his brown eyes.
The train went spluttering for lack of puff
While gravel stones hit its forbidden parts.
Nov 7, 2010
Nov 7, 2010 at 10:36 PM UTC
My hamster has asthma
it's so well not ****** cool
he sits there just looking at me
when I put him in his ball
The wheel I bought him to run inside
does sit in his cage redundant
for he has no want to play
my poor short of breath rodent
I took him to the vets
this coughing spluttering pet
I told of my malady
hoping he'd make him breath better for me
The vet looked at me astounded
and very confounded
as this condition he had never seen
a hamster with asthma looking cute and serene
By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 7:07 PM UTC
Baby let's go
tipsy-toed
Skinny dipping in
disco lights.
Drunken mouth in
worship,
you call my body Jerusalem
till I'm
spluttering up
pool water.
The ceiling spins
a salsa,
the fridge exhales something
obscene when it opens
and the furniture
blushes
I'm jealous of the
love story
in my home.
We roll around in
bolognese
I slurp the happy
out of
your mouth.
Saucy smirks.
Oh keeper of my heart,
I chain myself to
your smile and
swallow the
key.
Nov 24, 2018
Nov 24, 2018 at 11:53 PM UTC
The flat pasture was disturbed by a dip
A markèd groove in its dark, mossy surface
I tipped my head over the hole, inching gradually towards the centre
Smooth and immaculate
The water served as a perfect mirror; my face against the dusky sky
I squinted into its inky eyes, searching for familiarity
But curiosity got the better of me
And I fell.
The initial contact was the worst:
A shock of cold slapped my face and I saw nothing
But an ominous blur of dappled green light
The heavy water pushed me further – down, down –
To uncertain depths
Movement stung my skin, so I decided to freeze.
Unconsciously I drifted to the mouth again
And shot up
Spluttering and gasping; the air was damp and heavy
Pathetic and sopping, I crawled out and sat beside the edge
The sky had darkened a little
Though there were still enough streaks of blue for the pool to reflect back at me
Pure as before
I tried to emulate this static perfection
But drops and tears ran down my body in a restless stream
And I couldn’t control it.
Jun 6, 2018
Jun 6, 2018 at 7:38 AM UTC
*we are witness to atrocities
committed by regime
over its peoples
over time*
1.
we are witness..
shattering glass of reality arranged into chosen shard-feeds
like omni-gov surveillance into meticulous mind-grafts
spluttering eternal-stats for public mind control
spewing mini-truths of perpetual war raids
disillusionment of history forever rewritten
control supply-and-demand
create dark-cloaked dilemma and monitor shortage and famine
make-believe elements so well played to auto-frenzied latch
thinking is degraded and actions.. well, less said
2.
diligent and loyal yet harbour secret-hatred
feed visions stilted by politrix
deception and manipulation
propaganda is the oleaginous-game by wand-over-mind
totalitarian is the kingpin-holder of cards
and yet, who is really being played!
eternal marionettes on a conveyor-belt
can't even play with yourself alone
your **** your **** your every move..
watched - surveyed - and studied
by that ubiquitous-bulge eye you cannot escape
right opposite your low hard-bed
you're broken into popping-parts
that YOU won't recognise!
thoughtcrime-police is gonna accost ya
get up, comrade.. get UUUUUUUUP!
3.
we are witness
life-tube covered in darkened vapour-swirls
we are witness
children conditioned to watch their parents.. too closely
we are witness
truth so smothered, now re-fed by repeat-metaphor
we are witness
dictata.. dictata..
we are witness
austere existence in a tacky one-room flat
we are witness
subsist on black-wheat and imitation-repast
we are witness
regurgitate the party-dialect on and on and on
(after a while, we end up half-believing.. )
*only the clock which strikes thirteen
can smell the charred-reality
as leftover-truth is shoved
into incendiary obsolescence*
tick-a-damn-tock
and that would be..
one
S T - 26 sept
Sep 26, 2013
Sep 26, 2013 at 11:53 AM UTC
She tastes her tongue
-stuttering, spluttering-
and recoils -bitterness
and bile- slobber down
the side of the chin,
spitting it out.
She tapes her tongue
to the front of her
teeth -so that it
does not touch her
uttering buds going
down-
Slurping loudly
the syrupy silence
and its sounds
her thirst grows
to frenzy
Sacrificial
blood offering
-trembling-
to the ancients
within her
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 12:48 AM UTC
*Fishing off Puffin Island as a boy
By Jude Kyrie
I remember back to my boyhood
it was a different place in time.
The little aluminum fishing boat.
Its ancient Johnson outboard motor.
leaving a wake splitting the calm Irish sea
off the coast of Anglesey in North Wales.
My grandfather lived his retirement
years out in the small fishing village.
We reach Puffin Island
a deserted rock of land full of nesting puffins
The anchor tossed over into the deep waters
of the Irish sea.
We dropped our lines in the water and waited.
The heavy lines tripple baited in anticipation
of a healthy dinner catch.
The schools of Mackerel
attacked our bait
We were tired of pulling them into the boat.
My grandfather slitting the bellies
and cleaning them throwing the guts
back into the sea that bred them.
Hungry fish clamored for the feed.
nothing left for waste.
I held a spluttering Storm light
to pierce the blackness of the night.
My fear of a giant shark
attack filled my young heart.
we packed our catch and the propeller
creating a phosphorous wake behind us.
I marveled at the multitudes of species
below my feet.
And at the untamed violence and beauty of life
that we all shared on this wonderful planet.
And then back into darkness.
The total black darkness.*
May 13, 2016
May 13, 2016 at 12:25 PM UTC
Cockroaches in striped pajamas
stained by the scent of snow-melted blood
under a compassionate moon.
No reflection to admire
other than the eyes of a thousand
miserable and sordid puppets
with shaven heads and wooden clogged shoes.
God and their souls
murdered by a vile evolution,
crucibles of Jewish remains.
Rabbis and priests,
scholars and the poor:
moving targets with stars on their sleeves.
Naked souls waited,
listening to the gods of old Germany.
“Zieh dich aus! (Take off your clothes!)”
They shouted, pushing
them further into the chamber.
The doors
closed shut behind them.
A deathly fog clouded
among them,
putting them to drown
under a thick green darkness.
Agonized voices
shredded apart
as their nails clawed
at the concrete walls.
Women and children held each other tight,
whispering Kaddish,
hoping and praying.
Twenty minutes
of shouting and stumbling,
Twenty minutes
of spluttering and gargling.
The little ones witness the eyes
of their guardians writhe and turn white,
as their bodies jolted
as their lives were stolen.
The gods finally entered
to clear the room,
to pile the dead onto the carts,
to visit the crematorium.
To finally shovel the mounds of
striped clothing,
to recycle and burn the rest.
But this end comes
as a sweet release
as their ashes
were sent through the chimneys
and into the air
to rest in their graves.
Sep 12, 2014
Sep 12, 2014 at 3:16 PM UTC
It was social experimentation
To be locked away, windowless
Four walls, perpetually fixed
- as his figure in a lightless room
Ears removed, mouth sewn closed
Eyes blinded, no light, no sound
Muted humanity, no dignity
He happened upon a laughing child
before the procedure
and that sound echoed inside
Deep within his bowels it reverberated
Through his blood
Distorted in his stomach
Youthful innocent laugh,
it grew monstrous
It began to talk
and the beast within was personified
Day one he lost his mind
Day two was still day one
(how irresponsive time becomes)
Day three the laugh became a growl
Day four the voices started
Day five in absentia
Day six he was done
Day seven, bizarre interim
- that between life and death
Profoundly lost in swingin' psychosis
Met by the devil in detailed cerebellum
Watched memories deteriorate
like some reel-to-reel burning, spluttering
His wife now only a hydrogen hallucination
Do you, the reader, know true loneliness?
The observation deck was packed on day eight
Muted, yet guttural screams of anguish
from deep within his throat
Were haunting reminders of the damaging effect
of psychological studies and the fragility of humanity
The cataract voids in his stoic face
they betrayed fear, and begged captors
for some respite from this hellish dream
Until in a tormented blinded haze, the voice was clear
His ears still dead, though this voice was true
Spoke but three subtle words
The subject experienced simultaneous neurological
Joy and fear
He had heard the de facto vocalisation of some supreme
he spoke them aloud
his only utterance
and the teary eyed scientists gathered
sterile needle
no words
dead.
Jan 4, 2014
Jan 4, 2014 at 11:04 AM UTC
In a queue for the tube a man is on fire
flames climb up his collar
as he waits for his train.
But he stands unaware
of the smoke filled air
instead he checks his melting watch
and impatiently taps his burning foot
ignited by angst over his delayed route.
The woman by his side tries to tell him to cool down
tries to tell him he's burning
but she can't, she's drowning.
Water soaks up her suit
and seeps through her skin
so that she's coughing and spluttering
and sinking from within.
Two colleagues across the platform pay careful attention
to this storm and from it form conversation,
they judge the gentleman's irritation
and questions the woman's suffocation
but fail to notice the cause of each other's frustration.
Only the driver as his train pulls in closer,
witnesses one co-worker being blown over
whilst a rat races furtively up the other one's leg.
Jun 27, 2014
Jun 27, 2014 at 11:33 AM UTC
They all build up
like a slow
rising
flood
infiltrating your
comfort
and replacing air
with water
until
even all the spluttering
all the struggle left in you
is not enough.
Oct 30, 2011
Oct 30, 2011 at 6:22 PM UTC
wouldn’t it be great to learn Greek
she says
quickly riffling
through the phrasebook
with a thumb and her tongue out
while I try to discover what
‘to speak’ is in Dutch
everyone uses English
you know I say
spluttering ‘ik spreek, jij spreek,
hij spreek’,
trying to nail the pronunciation
like the book tells me to
‘ick sprake, yigh sprake, hi sprake’
but they might appreciate
tourists knowing a bit in Crete
like ‘efcharistó’
or ‘ti ypérochi méra’ she mutters
but it all, literally,
sounds Greek to me
and we can’t visit everywhere
besides, she wants warm weather
but I’d be fine in, say, Sweden,
‘Där är den närmaste Ikea?’
or in Iceland, but I can’t
pronounce anything
the way the phrasebook
wants me to
so Greece is probably best,
and anyway,
she’s too busy
informing me that
‘monókeros’ means unicorn
and it’s 575 quid each
if we book now
Apr 26, 2016
Apr 26, 2016 at 10:42 AM UTC
Oh fly, fly, where have you been ?
a freshly laid dog **** or some moldy old cream ?,
buzzing this way and spluttering that,
spiraling angrily on to the cat,
bang into the wall then on to the floor,
like a mad game of pinball with a very high score.
Where next, my fluffy black friend,
a slam of a book and I'm afraid its the end !
© H V Swan
Sep 10, 2014
Sep 10, 2014 at 3:37 PM UTC
Kenton comes to tea.
Dunne serves at table.
Kenton knew Hazel
even as a child.
Her late father’s friend
watches Dunne pour tea
into his teacup.
Your dear father’s death
was quite sudden he says.
We were in Paris
touring when news came
Hazel says softly.
Who was the other?
Kenton asks Hazel.
Dunne here my maid came.
Oh I see he says
gazing at Dunne’s thighs
hidden behind cloth.
He was a good man
Kenton says firmly
I’ve known him for years.
Dunne wants to refute
but remains silent.
Her master’s abuse
of her sexually
remains in her mind.
Hazel looks at Dunne
she knows the secrets
knew her father’s deeds.
Kenton rattles on.
Hazel remembers
her months in Paris
with Dunne at her side.
Art and galleries.
Cafes on corners
smoking and drinking.
Talking and laughing.
Both of them bathing
always together
touching and feeling
kissing and holding
in one bed at night.
Dunne slices the cake
pours Hazel’s black tea
her blue eyes searching.
Kenton eats his cake
talks between mouthfuls
spluttering small crumbs.
Dunne studies Hazel
her eyes **********
her tongue like a snail
moves slowly between
her mistress’s thighs
her hands embracing
the smooth naked skin
in her memory.
Hazel looks away
the room is so warm.
She knows that soft stare
****** and hot
and she whispering
more of that don’t stop
scratching through the air.
Dunne hears her and smiles
pours Kenton more tea.
He is unaware there’s love in the air.
Apr 4, 2012
Apr 4, 2012 at 3:59 PM UTC
Sunshine
she scatters shimmery splashes
Surrounding Sally's street.
Submerging submissive skies
Swinging slowly
Sluggishing,
Sauntering softly.
Sweeping soft swimming skies south.
Spraying sparkling sprinkles
Shinning splashing springs. Spreading sunshine's shimmery sparkles.
Similarly,
Sing-song sparrows sway, singing sonorously, sky-bound.
Sunshine
She swings, spluttering shinny splashes
Showering sweet solemn shades.
Suntanning skies
Suntanning seas
Suntanning streams
Suntanning species
Surrounding survival space.
Suntanning Sally's supple skin.
Sally stares, squinting.
Sunshine strikes.
Sally stays star-struck. Speechless, sober Sally slides.
Sweetly savouring sunshine's shrewd styles.
Swallowing some sunshine sparkles.
Sunshine,
She swims
Spreading sparkles solemnly.
Sally sees. Sally sighs.
Sally's street saw students scream sweet songs.
Sally's street served sweet shopping sprees. Since suddenly Sally's street screamed silence.
'Stay safe' Sally's screen suggests
Sally strolls sadly
Shaking solemnly.
Sauntering sheepishly,
'staying safe' Sally's shopkeeper's sister salutes, smiling sardonically.
Silence suddenly screams sacred scaries.
Sickness stole Sally's street.
Silence swallowed sweet songs students sang.
Shredding sanity.
Shaming sweet surrounding state.
Sickness seduced stress.
Stress succumbed.
Seducing several sins.
Shattering
Shaming
Stabbing
Slaughtering sanity.
Sad Sally sneaks,
Sitting, sipping snail soup.
Softly sobbing
Sorrowfully singing.
May 25, 2020
May 25, 2020 at 4:07 PM UTC
Janice
sans red beret
walked with you
to Bedlam Park
where you swam
in the open air
swimming pool
(she swam
you tried
but failed)
there in her
green swimsuit
her arms pulling her
through water
her hands
pushing away
the water’s skin
while you stood
waist deep
gazing at her skills
her wet hair
her bright eyes
you gingerly standing
feet on the bottom
feeling the water’s
pull and push
come on
she said
try to swim
be brave
and you dived forward
into the water
and splashed
and sunk
like some broken boat
water in your eyes
and ears
you rose
helped by Janice
to the surface
choking
and spluttering
wiping water
from your stinging eyes
she had her hand
in yours
holding you steady
keeping you balanced
she apologised
for not helping
should have helped
she said
not just stood
and stared
and you gazed at her
through wet eyes
forming an image
making sense
of the shape of her
her eyes on you
her damp hair limp
against her skin
o mermaid of the deep
you said
where is your tail?
and she laughed
and took you
by the hand
into the shallower water
her warm hand
in yours
her thin fingers
clutching
her damp swimsuit
dripping
try here
in less deeper water
she said
and let go
of your hand
and she lowered herself
into the water
and showed you how
to put your body so
and hands and arms
to move and legs
to kick and push
but all you could hold
in mind
could bring to bear
was her beauty
swimming there.
May 3, 2013
May 3, 2013 at 2:32 AM UTC
Miles and miles of....
Space, stretched mouths, lips
Drawn apart, gums claiming their
Contents and the......
Famous uvula left dangling there
Tonsil twins, the septic sisters
Wore white adornments today
Salt stained specs sitting spitefully
Chastising for last night's overdose
Remarking about being off colour
Tombs stones stained on plaque
Patrol alert, tongue wearing a
Its stale white winter coat
Colour palette was off white today
With blue garland furnishings
Strategically placed under the
Black veil of last night's mascara
Nostrils dragged their contents
Into the daylight, sizing up and
Producing a contest for the
Incumbent tissue trail that slowly
Gave the receptacle in the corner
A purpose for the day...to see how
Sturdy it claimed to be before it
Regurgitated....spluttering and coughing
Nov 9, 2012
Nov 9, 2012 at 7:15 AM UTC
The hollow shells of buildings cower and quake in fear,
skillfully, with shame shaken hands I raise my gun,
my fingers shake, the killing machine rattling in my hands,
I look up, the smoke filled sky glaring down at me.
I wonder of the people who once lived here,
of the bombs dropped upon their roofs,
My body racked with guilt as I stare,
blood trickles down a shattered window pane.
A burning smell fills my nostrils,
I hear cry's, screams of pain and desperation,
A tear rolls down my cheek like a droplet of crimson blood,
the shame and melancholy distress flooding my being.
Rubble surrounds were I stand,
I fall to my knees, the gun slipping from my grasp,
I cry out to the sky, at the top of my lungs.
I can smell gas...
... the thick yellow smoke rushing towards me,
I choke; spluttering out pain filled screams,
my life, a shameful, disintegrated nothing...
Jan 17, 2014
Jan 17, 2014 at 7:52 AM UTC
I see vivid, my vision flowered
All the colours, i call them ours
Afterimages and my poems
Branded on my eyeball's moments
Blue does spread like food colouring
Dropped in my vision spluttering
I close my eyes to escape the noise
But all it changes, is the background choice
I see the bright blue sky
With floaters, sparkles and vivid lies
And sometimes my hands are dissapear
Beneath shadows leftover from lights bright near
But all in all it is alright
After all i could lose my sight?
And that is without mentioning my ears
that have been ringing for years.
Aug 1, 2023
Aug 1, 2023 at 7:11 AM UTC
and heres me, a single collection of particles in the ocean
it's not like I wanted to be here
It started when I was taken away
tides too strong for me, the pull of such, my bones too weak to contend
I didn't ever wish to breathe my last breath while spluttering sea water from my lungs
I almost wish that someone had found me like this, even planned it in my last moments
to be found floating face down in the ocean
I never planned for fish too hack off chunks of my torso
and carry it in their stomaches
only to be eaten by sharks, who decayed in time too
and this happened hundreds of times with so many tiny fish
taking parts of me, all of me
until I had nothing left but bones for a period of time
until they wasted away and washed up onto different tides
ones i'd never seen or trod
only to wash up again and again
until I was tiny, a tiny part of the world
more insignificant than I started
Nov 2, 2013
Nov 2, 2013 at 7:55 AM UTC
There's a storm brewing
within your soul
The waves are crashing down upon you
threatening to swallow you whole
You've fallen so deep under
I can't save you now
Going down down down
I'm afraid you're gonna drown
Yet you continue talking
choking on your words
Stuttering and spluttering
you're only making things worse
Inhale, exhale
breathe out, breathe in
Just stop trying to fight the tide
don't you know this is a war you can't win?
Feb 24, 2013
Feb 24, 2013 at 12:35 PM UTC
we have been deceived.
corralled like tepid sheep,
fattened beef
waiting beyond
the doors of the slaughterhouse.
as pigs lick their lips,
a daemon’s death dirge drifts
listless across the
Atlantic, an erratic dichotomy
corroding rationality—
this executive edict
barring refugees.
caught without a compass,
a flotilla of ships weathering
the elements.
for forty days
and forty nights,
we’ve been lead
two-by-two
by elephants
and donkeys.
demagogues commandeered
the lighthouse, directing
our ark across
scattered rocks.
an armada
of shattered splinters,
remnants of water-logged vessels
we’d hoped to sail to utopia.
caught in the webs
we wove, droves
of drones spewing
bombs across Aleppo.
as spittle collects
on spluttering orange lips,
will we
pause
for but a moment?
collect
our thoughts.
reflect.
history is a shattered
mirror and we’ve pricked
our fingers trying
to piece the image
back together.
there’s a hunger
for blood
refracting in our eyes.
a misanthropy
that smarts and stings.
a recalcitrant population
coerced by a television
rhetorician’s clever
devices, devised
to separate and segregate
during this crisis
caused by our missiles.
there is no moral arc
to the universe. hope,
Hedges wrote, is mania
if it remains vapid
and refuses to address
the depravity of our
physical reality.
we’ve already lost.
just ask the children
barely clinging to life,
covered in the debris
of their former homes.
all that’s left for us
is to bash the fascists.
smash every illusory border
in our heads and hearts.
burn down the walls
they try to build
around us.
overturn the tables
of the oligarchs,
stuff Molotov cocktails
down their bloated throats.
open revolt is our only hope.
we’ll build a sanctuary
in this City Beautiful.
Jan 28, 2017
Jan 28, 2017 at 10:12 PM UTC
Lies cling to your lips,
Like tar to a heavy smokers' lungs.
Your words have the same effect as nicotine,
You can't stop, can you?
What's that sound?
Oh there you go,
Coughing, spluttering, choking.
What? Cat got your throat?
Or is it that web of lies you call an alibi that you're trying to feed me ?
Your neck bleeds with the self inflicted scratches from your fingernails,
Your eyes begin to bulge, like they're going to pop from their sockets.
Is it hard to breath with the fire you've created?
Do those smoke plumes heave as you exhale through those lungs?
You're on your knees know,
What do you see?
Do you see the pain you've caused?
Or shall I push you down a little further?
I hope you choke on that alibi,
Goodbye,
Rest in piece,
I know I will,
Liar Liar
Jun 24, 2013
Jun 24, 2013 at 1:52 PM UTC
A storm is coming.
Can you see it rise?
Clouds on clouds,
Darkening the skies,
A whirlpool of seagulls
Their wings spread wide,
Observe from above
The swelling of the tide,
The sea as it churns
Angry and white,
Waves foaming and spluttering
In outbursts of light,
The air is like static,
Hear it crackle and hiss,
As it itches to experience
Lightning strike the abyss
The beach is deserted,
Been left cold and bare,
The ruins of sandcastles
Abandoned without care.
A storm is brewing,
Disturbed from its sleep,
Ruthless and wild
As it stirs from the deep.
Nov 18, 2020
Nov 18, 2020 at 9:16 AM UTC