"wolfing" poems - Hello Poetry

Mading relieves Manute from guard duty. They share a meagre meal of millet porridge before Manute returns to the refugee nation of southern Sudan. The noon sun is a harsh sentence for a parched tongue but they talk not of coffee or juice-laden fruit and rice and lentils are mountain memories their stomachs can ill afford. Instead they curse the clear skies that rain only strafing jets and pray for their dry-breasted wives on pilgrimage to the aid station carrying children swollen with the promise of death. They snarl rumours about al-Bashir’s lapdogs in Khartoum growing fat on food intended for them. Jason waits, informed by cell phone of Laurie's imminent arrival. He orders a wheat beer, its earth tone inviting on a silver tray and its musky sweetness washing away a morning of phone business. The noon sun is a warm blessing through the picture window but they talk not of haloed hills or the light-laden river and recession and retrenchment are market memories their ulcers can ill afford. Instead they debate '63 cabernet versus '74 chablis and moan about their reconstructed wives driving halfway across town carrying children swollen with the promise of private schooling. They snarl rumours about Key's cabinet in Wellington while wolfing crayfish and Steak Diane.

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Feb 24, 2015

Feb 24, 2015 at 11:54 PM UTC

andrew-m-bell

LET'S DO LUNCH

Mading relieves Manute from guard duty. They share a meagre meal of millet porridge before Manute returns to the refugee nation of southern Sudan. The noon sun is a harsh sentence for a parched tongue but they talk not of coffee or juice-laden fruit and rice and lentils are mountain memories their stomachs can ill afford. Instead they curse the clear skies that rain only strafing jets and pray for their dry-breasted wives on pilgrimage to the aid station carrying children swollen with the promise of death. They snarl rumours about al-Bashir’s lapdogs in Khartoum growing fat on food intended for them. Jason waits, informed by cell phone of Laurie's imminent arrival. He orders a wheat beer, its earth tone inviting on a silver tray and its musky sweetness washing away a morning of phone business. The noon sun is a warm blessing through the picture window but they talk not of haloed hills or the light-laden river and recession and retrenchment are market memories their ulcers can ill afford. Instead they debate '63 cabernet versus '74 chablis and moan about their reconstructed wives driving halfway across town carrying children swollen with the promise of private schooling. They snarl rumours about Key's cabinet in Wellington while wolfing crayfish and Steak Diane.

22

gallows on the rooftop where window washers go to suspend metal gibbet quick hinge, raise and lock secure against the weather whipped combed and packed snow ice crusted dunes strain the winds over the buildings roofing an extreme combing exposure doubtlessly they'll be no labor done today On the seventh floor i watch from behind an environment sealed window wolfing my lunch on a short break in the warm fire escape i watch a solitary worker is ejected from a hatch in the exterior wall cuffed by a spasm of wind he descends a short bolted ladder and makes a geared approach crouching his weight against the wind he drags a heavy kit mummified in protective clothing passing my spot and he then heads outward towards the bounds of the rooftop he mends a stable stance one foot close to the edge the rest of him in a low defensive pose clips his harness to the gallows stands to take a confident beating of the breath stealing brawling winter gale he radios for the gantry to be raised

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Mar 10, 2022

Mar 10, 2022 at 2:07 PM UTC

neth-jones

suspend

gallows on the rooftop where window washers go to suspend metal gibbet quick hinge, raise and lock secure against the weather whipped combed and packed snow ice crusted dunes strain the winds over the buildings roofing an extreme combing exposure doubtlessly they'll be no labor done today On the seventh floor i watch from behind an environment sealed window wolfing my lunch on a short break in the warm fire escape i watch a solitary worker is ejected from a hatch in the exterior wall cuffed by a spasm of wind he descends a short bolted ladder and makes a geared approach crouching his weight against the wind he drags a heavy kit mummified in protective clothing passing my spot and he then heads outward towards the bounds of the rooftop he mends a stable stance one foot close to the edge the rest of him in a low defensive pose clips his harness to the gallows stands to take a confident beating of the breath stealing brawling winter gale he radios for the gantry to be raised

38

Thinking back to Thomas creek and sneaking a peak at the freaky little tweaker in blown out sneakers a toothless mistress second guessing ****** thrift dressed house guest ******* up my speakers blown out woofer wolfing down dinner mad slurping curry a beginner at twister her sister, disaster, got caught ******* the Doberman.. unable to find sobriety got gang ***** at the sorority doing an impression of Brad Dougherty shoes to tall falling all wobbly knees knocking hostilely like a rasta in Montgomery racially outcast Big Boi with a skin tare lash with passion unfashionable bastions with rashes wear red sashes like Communist fascists I‘m a pacifist with a speeding fist ready to dis any resistor to this transistor radio I eat filet-minion with boxers on my mind be gone, like, no one’s home and this body roams all alone with a ***** I’m a stoner, a postponer, ***** donor, out on loan bought and paid for, caught with a lawnmower, impersonating a horn blower like I was Gillespie at the Filmore, or Apollo theatre as a greater Walmart style wearing a wife beater, not a reader, sort of a ******* not like Kim, more like a mosquit-er drinking blood like it’s from a hummingbird feeder.

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May 9, 2016

May 9, 2016 at 6:03 PM UTC

s-lyman-temple

crap rap 7 (MCDJpjs)

Thinking back to Thomas creek and sneaking a peak at the freaky little tweaker in blown out sneakers a toothless mistress second guessing ****** thrift dressed house guest ******* up my speakers blown out woofer wolfing down dinner mad slurping curry a beginner at twister her sister, disaster, got caught ******* the Doberman.. unable to find sobriety got gang ***** at the sorority doing an impression of Brad Dougherty shoes to tall falling all wobbly knees knocking hostilely like a rasta in Montgomery racially outcast Big Boi with a skin tare lash with passion unfashionable bastions with rashes wear red sashes like Communist fascists I‘m a pacifist with a speeding fist ready to dis any resistor to this transistor radio I eat filet-minion with boxers on my mind be gone, like, no one’s home and this body roams all alone with a ***** I’m a stoner, a postponer, ***** donor, out on loan bought and paid for, caught with a lawnmower, impersonating a horn blower like I was Gillespie at the Filmore, or Apollo theatre as a greater Walmart style wearing a wife beater, not a reader, sort of a ******* not like Kim, more like a mosquit-er drinking blood like it’s from a hummingbird feeder.

16

We are a slew of antibiotics, genetically-modified foods, preservatives and dyes. Our bodies contain everything that doesn't exist in nature. No wonder why our grades are freefalling along with our pitiful economy. We blindly invest in the pollution of our food supply and environment by wolfing down Twinkies and Doritos. I implore you to eat what your grandma considers as food. Not Pop-Tarts. Fruit Gushers or Swiss Rolls but produce.

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Mar 13, 2014

Mar 13, 2014 at 9:47 PM UTC

wistful-wanderer

We Are What We Eat

We are a slew of antibiotics, genetically-modified foods, preservatives and dyes. Our bodies contain everything that doesn't exist in nature. No wonder why our grades are freefalling along with our pitiful economy. We blindly invest in the pollution of our food supply and environment by wolfing down Twinkies and Doritos. I implore you to eat what your grandma considers as food. Not Pop-Tarts. Fruit Gushers or Swiss Rolls but produce.

8

A man one day had a tryst with his local psychiatrist who was the hospital chief considered to be a fish big Doc, he said “I think I too am a big fish” The nutty doc said I don’t treat patient’s wet Please go see your local vet The vet was one Dr. Spry With humor wry He saw the patient on the sly Physically you are wet Yet mentally very dry coz all day you cry wolfing the big Mac fry! “Like cures like" This remedy do try hence forth switch to the pompfret dry with less oil and more rye

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Jul 27, 2014

Jul 27, 2014 at 11:04 PM UTC

venus62

A fishy tale

A man one day had a tryst with his local psychiatrist who was the hospital chief considered to be a fish big Doc, he said “I think I too am a big fish” The nutty doc said I don’t treat patient’s wet Please go see your local vet The vet was one Dr. Spry With humor wry He saw the patient on the sly Physically you are wet Yet mentally very dry coz all day you cry wolfing the big Mac fry! “Like cures like" This remedy do try hence forth switch to the pompfret dry with less oil and more rye

20

I swear to ******* God, you eat my Oatmeal one more time without asking, and I'm going to cut your arm off. Every morning I wake up at 6:30. Ann wakes up at 7:00 for work. So I take her Oatmeal out of the cabinet and pour a shitload in a bowl. More than I will ever need, just to **** her off. And she wakes up at seven and I'm just smiling there, wolfing down her oatmeal; anything to get a win in the morning.

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Jan 27, 2012

Jan 27, 2012 at 11:35 PM UTC

Waverly

Ann

I swear to ******* God, you eat my Oatmeal one more time without asking, and I'm going to cut your arm off. Every morning I wake up at 6:30. Ann wakes up at 7:00 for work. So I take her Oatmeal out of the cabinet and pour a shitload in a bowl. More than I will ever need, just to **** her off. And she wakes up at seven and I'm just smiling there, wolfing down her oatmeal; anything to get a win in the morning.

15

Impulsive drones, these machos you have flimflammed, Wolfing your proportionality like a **** brewed nectar of grapes, When flimsy limb frills no more interweave, expertise reprogrammed, Are you the lone from infinite frames murmuring, “once more, he escapes”? Indignation ******* broadcasted, ferocity wrought into the fiber, Prior, where narcissistic pathway architecture once lodged aloft, Calloused acknowledgement of her duffel, abrupt pang, necessity for a prescriber, My mettle is feeble of the soap opera, hanging one’s topper in my breath, I coughed, The cauldron perpetually gurgling with spume, mingling itself, Gyrating with giddiness as if my noggin was a top trinket, No dust crumbs in any bustle ever jubilated atop my pit-a-patting instrument’s Masses are anticipating for my enveloping blanket, I perhaps beam till the cattle wham the timepiece, though seldom do I chuckle, Shall journey with the ensuing waft, no comma for a buckle.

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Jan 9, 2016

Jan 9, 2016 at 6:06 PM UTC

anastasia-ejov

Expiry is a Final Activation.

Impulsive drones, these machos you have flimflammed, Wolfing your proportionality like a **** brewed nectar of grapes, When flimsy limb frills no more interweave, expertise reprogrammed, Are you the lone from infinite frames murmuring, “once more, he escapes”? Indignation ******* broadcasted, ferocity wrought into the fiber, Prior, where narcissistic pathway architecture once lodged aloft, Calloused acknowledgement of her duffel, abrupt pang, necessity for a prescriber, My mettle is feeble of the soap opera, hanging one’s topper in my breath, I coughed, The cauldron perpetually gurgling with spume, mingling itself, Gyrating with giddiness as if my noggin was a top trinket, No dust crumbs in any bustle ever jubilated atop my pit-a-patting instrument’s Masses are anticipating for my enveloping blanket, I perhaps beam till the cattle wham the timepiece, though seldom do I chuckle, Shall journey with the ensuing waft, no comma for a buckle.

14

The wolfing theif who howls aloud A ravenous young man with just the essence of beast Who wears the forest on his back Who dashes down the rooftop steep Just to bridge the gap from far away And land, ever so slightly on the precipice sway Just to reach up gently and pocket the moon As a souvenir to take upon his way

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Mar 14, 2019

Mar 14, 2019 at 9:51 PM UTC

colmistoirm

Arsène Lupin III

The wolfing theif who howls aloud A ravenous young man with just the essence of beast Who wears the forest on his back Who dashes down the rooftop steep Just to bridge the gap from far away And land, ever so slightly on the precipice sway Just to reach up gently and pocket the moon As a souvenir to take upon his way

8

all the preparing for the big show the making things perfect the displaying of stuff just so there's the *mixing blending shaking seasoning pouring cooking boiling baking frosting whipping cutting trimming spooning* followed by the *devouring wolfing scarfing cramming munching chomping noshing guzzling slurping swallowing* and ending with *burping hiccuping passing gas* and passing out happy thanksgiving

0

Nov 26, 2014

Nov 26, 2014 at 3:07 PM UTC

susanjj

thanks

all the preparing for the big show the making things perfect the displaying of stuff just so there's the *mixing blending shaking seasoning pouring cooking boiling baking frosting whipping cutting trimming spooning* followed by the *devouring wolfing scarfing cramming munching chomping noshing guzzling slurping swallowing* and ending with *burping hiccuping passing gas* and passing out happy thanksgiving

35

Rubber chicken bubble bath, greasy chicken nugget, Never learned a lick of math How many in this bucket? Counting on my hands and feet, Spilling sweet and sour, Wolfing down this deep fried meat By dozens every hour. Teriyaki, honey mustard, Barbecue, Atomic, Churning in this raging pit of lava once a stomach. Though many hours pass, a fire immolates my mouth, Then I feel the terror of what waits for me down south. My body is a war zone, a broken ruin burning, Though I may never eat again, I’m bad at lesson learning. For if I ever do, I will forget this day, Once more my organs pay the price, the spice will have its way.

0

Jul 1, 2019

Jul 1, 2019 at 1:30 PM UTC

andrew-switzer

Chicken Nugget Nightmare

Rubber chicken bubble bath, greasy chicken nugget, Never learned a lick of math How many in this bucket? Counting on my hands and feet, Spilling sweet and sour, Wolfing down this deep fried meat By dozens every hour. Teriyaki, honey mustard, Barbecue, Atomic, Churning in this raging pit of lava once a stomach. Though many hours pass, a fire immolates my mouth, Then I feel the terror of what waits for me down south. My body is a war zone, a broken ruin burning, Though I may never eat again, I’m bad at lesson learning. For if I ever do, I will forget this day, Once more my organs pay the price, the spice will have its way.

16

Beneath the oak tree I lie Watching all the passers-by: Here are a happy chubby boy And a girl playing with a toy, I hear them intellectually converse Over the sins of universe: ‘Humans crave wealth with immense love, Like the bread crust eaten by a hungry dove, Like an elephant devouring tons of peanuts, Like an ape wolfing down a tree of coconuts, Like pearls bringing woes to misers, Like swords slaying their carriers, Like truces signed by traitors, Calling them “The Peace Creators” Like Pharaohs, owners of stakes, Oppressing within lands and lakes, Like Agamemnon taking Achilles’ prize, Like Caesar thinking he’d immortalize.’ ‘I concur,’ the girl goes on to say, ‘Our life on earth is a short stay, The Lord above we should obey, But creatures, insolently, go astray; Yet He awards us generously. Caution: we may be taken heedlessly!’ No time to waste, no time to sleep, No time to slacken; the matter IS deep: To the Lord above I beseech, Oh God, have mercy on our breach.

0

Apr 1, 2015

Apr 1, 2015 at 1:59 AM UTC

mikal-nahya

Heedlessness

Beneath the oak tree I lie Watching all the passers-by: Here are a happy chubby boy And a girl playing with a toy, I hear them intellectually converse Over the sins of universe: ‘Humans crave wealth with immense love, Like the bread crust eaten by a hungry dove, Like an elephant devouring tons of peanuts, Like an ape wolfing down a tree of coconuts, Like pearls bringing woes to misers, Like swords slaying their carriers, Like truces signed by traitors, Calling them “The Peace Creators” Like Pharaohs, owners of stakes, Oppressing within lands and lakes, Like Agamemnon taking Achilles’ prize, Like Caesar thinking he’d immortalize.’ ‘I concur,’ the girl goes on to say, ‘Our life on earth is a short stay, The Lord above we should obey, But creatures, insolently, go astray; Yet He awards us generously. Caution: we may be taken heedlessly!’ No time to waste, no time to sleep, No time to slacken; the matter IS deep: To the Lord above I beseech, Oh God, have mercy on our breach.

28

a finagling conception faces start to blur past dreary old Manila and scaffolds cool to touch like one of the many daggers of love struck relentlessly against the rib mercilessly genuflect as the rain mocks the tears of a woman used bone-deep wolfing down at the door heeding these transcendental howls baleful eyes **** past the throb of the strobe remain wordless i taste it in the moment yet why kneel?

0

Sep 29, 2015

Sep 29, 2015 at 10:03 AM UTC

windsor-i-guadalupe-jr

Trails

a finagling conception faces start to blur past dreary old Manila and scaffolds cool to touch like one of the many daggers of love struck relentlessly against the rib mercilessly genuflect as the rain mocks the tears of a woman used bone-deep wolfing down at the door heeding these transcendental howls baleful eyes **** past the throb of the strobe remain wordless i taste it in the moment yet why kneel?

18

Ripped from his crypt, he Rips past fast and furious. Curious, she sits On her rocking chair and stares At this fair spirit. Lit from head to toe like a Flaming diamond, sun Reflecting off towards the Direction he is Going, she is dying to Touch this free demon. Fed up with the fact she lost Her identity, Longing for mischief or a Flare of forgotten Passion, she leaps after him, At least the best she Can with her caned up legs. His Eyes stay fixed on the Road, leaving but dust behind For this craven and Ravenous old woman. She Thus sits back down in Her chair. But now in her mind She’s thunder, lightning Cold hot-momma with flaring Hair, flagging down those Low-riding demons with her ***** and her *** Wolfing them down, or at least Until the day she Dies. Then she’ll ride with them, a Flaming raven, a Demon, ripped from her own crypt.

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Aug 9, 2018

Aug 9, 2018 at 1:59 PM UTC

AlekthePoet

The Flaming Raven in the Desert

Ripped from his crypt, he Rips past fast and furious. Curious, she sits On her rocking chair and stares At this fair spirit. Lit from head to toe like a Flaming diamond, sun Reflecting off towards the Direction he is Going, she is dying to Touch this free demon. Fed up with the fact she lost Her identity, Longing for mischief or a Flare of forgotten Passion, she leaps after him, At least the best she Can with her caned up legs. His Eyes stay fixed on the Road, leaving but dust behind For this craven and Ravenous old woman. She Thus sits back down in Her chair. But now in her mind She’s thunder, lightning Cold hot-momma with flaring Hair, flagging down those Low-riding demons with her ***** and her *** Wolfing them down, or at least Until the day she Dies. Then she’ll ride with them, a Flaming raven, a Demon, ripped from her own crypt.

34

(preface to constipation) way before aye knew the name Fletcherism applied tummy uncommonly (recherché) atypical dyed in the wool feeding and/or slaking thirst guide did precepts sans hungry deaf eating beast impossible to hide (the ferocious growling harassing imp - armed to the figurative teeth ready to pounce viz casus belli sans reeling off a pseudo say id dish us vicious jeremiad me, this unrepentant conscientious masticator, who re: lied on self control unbeknownst to this pumpkin eater unwittingly followed the basic tenet of Fletcherism - custom made modus operandi vis a vis exercising okayed mandibular metered (when famished), eyes kept closed while tongue gently played adhered to practice of eating small amounts, which discipline stayed engorging self, and as a result (consuming sustenance only when hungry avoiding (wolfing like an instantaneous blitz krieg flash) found me aware visa vis master car ding marginal increase in pounds meaning thy body electric weighed approximately for long stretches when a habitue at one or another dining digs stuffed nibbling on hors d'oeuvre figs adequately satiating with with oomf when contra dance caller Scott Higgs announced "hands four," which signal helped get my mojo back and reel lee deuce home jigs, which kickstarted, syncopated, oft times espying Bobbie Riggs who years gone back **** Vic Tory huss e'en when donning apparel of Whigs like colluding trump petting molecules that via tiff ***** doth zags and zigs.

0

Apr 11, 2018

Apr 11, 2018 at 3:15 PM UTC

matthew-scott-harris2p

Byte Size Food Begets Best Benefits

(preface to constipation) way before aye knew the name Fletcherism applied tummy uncommonly (recherché) atypical dyed in the wool feeding and/or slaking thirst guide did precepts sans hungry deaf eating beast impossible to hide (the ferocious growling harassing imp - armed to the figurative teeth ready to pounce viz casus belli sans reeling off a pseudo say id dish us vicious jeremiad me, this unrepentant conscientious masticator, who re: lied on self control unbeknownst to this pumpkin eater unwittingly followed the basic tenet of Fletcherism - custom made modus operandi vis a vis exercising okayed mandibular metered (when famished), eyes kept closed while tongue gently played adhered to practice of eating small amounts, which discipline stayed engorging self, and as a result (consuming sustenance only when hungry avoiding (wolfing like an instantaneous blitz krieg flash) found me aware visa vis master car ding marginal increase in pounds meaning thy body electric weighed approximately for long stretches when a habitue at one or another dining digs stuffed nibbling on hors d'oeuvre figs adequately satiating with with oomf when contra dance caller Scott Higgs announced "hands four," which signal helped get my mojo back and reel lee deuce home jigs, which kickstarted, syncopated, oft times espying Bobbie Riggs who years gone back **** Vic Tory huss e'en when donning apparel of Whigs like colluding trump petting molecules that via tiff ***** doth zags and zigs.

43