If it ain't broke,
break it,
then fix it,
s   l   o   w   l   y,
then present a padded bill.

Oh yeah, I forgot electricians.

If it ain't broke,
break it,
then fix it,
s   l   o   w   l   y,
then present a padded bill.

Oh yeah, I forgot electricians.
Nanette Villanueva
Nanette Villanueva
Aug 13, 2014

Roof of the sky leaks
A plumber looks for a tissue
In the duskiest summer

#haiku   #summer   #sky   #tissue   #roof   #plumber  
May 19, 2013

My father was a plumber and more
He is gone now with much forlorn
I miss his advice and lore
A leak sparked memory
Of great days of yore
Advice I seek
To fix my

I fixed it while thinking about him. He taught me more than he knows. I miss are time spent together, even arms deep in toilets. Love you Dad!
Lily Mae
Lily Mae
Oct 8, 2012

With your snake...my pipes have never been so clean

Larry B
Dec 5, 2010

I'm startin' to run out of nursery rhymes
So, I made up one of my own
It's about a nearsighted plumber
That was accidently glued to his throne

Once upon a time, long, long ago
There was a plumber, who I'll call Dale
Poor old Dale had a hard time plumbing
Cause he really couldn't see very well

He'd gotten a call, "The toilet won't flush!
Please, can you come right away?"
Well, old Dale got in such a hurry
He forgot to take his glasses that day

Well, by the time old Dale had got there
The house was in quite a mess
He realized he'd forgotten his glasses
But he'd give that toilet his best

He'd not seen this since plumbing school
But then, he only saw it on a test
And by the time, he got his tools together
The water was starting to crest

He had spotted the problem right away
But remember now, he can only half see
The water was squirtin' six feet high
And poor Dale was only five foot three

He laid his glue on the toilet seat
While trying his best not to drown
He couldn't see where he put it at
And, of course, that's where he sat down

He didn't even know 'till it was too late
He'd bent over to loosen a nut
And that's when he first noticed that thing
The toilet was glued to his butt

So, if you ever need a real good plumber
He's the man for the job, without fail
And I hope you enjoyed this story
About the nearsighted plumber named Dale

I forgot tell you, there's one more thing
About the nearsighted plumber named Dale
That man still has that toilet seat
For the thing's still glued to his tail

© All Rights Reserved

*Here, good friend, is your Plumbers' Ball.*
Francie Lynch
Francie Lynch
Sep 22, 2014

Strange question indeed,
So I asked one and all;
Explain to me:
“What's a plumber's ball?”

Family and friends
Heeded my call,
But none could confine,
Refine or define it,
Yet Paul was sure
He could design it.

Still, none could satisfy
My caterwaul:
“What the hell is a plumber's ball?”

Does it sweat the pipe
Or wiggle the snake:
Can it clamp the nipple
For Heaven's sake?
Could it snap on the cock-hole cover?
All these queries
Made me wonder.

Has it something to do
With hardness leakage,
Or screwing the ball-cock
To stop a seepage?
Has it anything to do
With a saddle valve dripping,
Electric eels,
Or two pipes mating?
And, I heard of male and female fittings,
And should I worry
If I'm standing or sitting?

If you're discharging the head
Or elongating the pipe,
Does the plumber's ball
Help it snug tight?
Is it in my tank,
Or in my bowl,
Beneath the floor
Near the drainage hole?
Is the plumber's ball
In the back of the truck
(Jeff laughed and said
One could rub it for luck).

I asked Michel
If he could tell,
He sensed it was something
He could smell.
I sought out Ray,
Perhaps he'd know,
But he was on call
To restrain a back-flow.
I couldn't ask Gary
For his wisdom and sense,
He was wigglin' the snake
To unclog a wet vent.
Henry, Rick, Scotty and Brian,
Gave shameless answers
I couldn't rely on.

It's not a crapper, tail piece
Or Johnnie-bolt,
Or catch basin, reamer,
O-ring or pipe dope.
So I searched the Net
With a fool's wonder,
And read of ball-checks,
Gas cocks and plungers.
I know it's too late
To ask Rolly or Ross,
For both of them knew,
And that's our loss.
And Ernie's gone golfing
So I can't ask the Boss.

With final resolve
I fell to my knees,
To pray St. Ferrer
With grace intercede.
His silence left me
In a state of depression;
Had Ferrer washed his hands
Of the plumbing profession?

So nothing could settle
My wherewithal,
I still didn't know,
What's a plumber's ball?

Suddenly, it hit me,
He's never wrong,
The Dalai Lama of dip-tubes,
I'll ask John.
Where others did falter,
John's a rock:
He knows the difference
Between a gas and ball cock.

With a knowing smile
He embraced our Hall:
Here, good friend, is your Plumbers' Ball.

Penned for the occasion of  Saucier Plumbing and Heating 79th anniversay Ball.
Rolly and Ross were the original owners.
St. Ferrer is the patron saint of plumbing.
If you have such an event to attend, feel free to modify the above.
Matthew Conrad
Matthew Conrad
Dec 12, 2015

it was that metallica in moscow
prompt that got me started,
obviously the real relationship ended
and the writing began;
but what can you do?
as a child i wanted to become a veterinarian,
but god, why a poet?
it’s usually those who wished otherwise
who become mozarts in the unwanted category
of being themselves... just so there’s some sort
of anaesthetic expressed by ease and fluidity,
and apathy, and automation;
writing doesn't have to be of a lofty/ aloof
ontological orientation... it just has to be basic,
and true... it has to have a quality
where truth translates itself as fiction...
and you begin lying to yourself on paper.

Lauren Marie
Lauren Marie
Oct 12, 2013

Sometimes, I still long for the taste of your tongue
In my mouth.
How your brutal hands that ripped
My heart from my chest
Once caressed my back and waist.

I wasted love on you.
My glass full
From years of saving;
Sacrificing other gentleman callers
and their date dollars.

Spending nights alone,
Extending my hand out the window
Collecting ‘love drops’
That filter in my cup.

I poured everything into your body.
How was I to know
You would drain




All the fluid of my feelings
Kept safe for good keeping,
In seconds




All my feelings that poured into your body
Left no impression or influence.
You’re still cold;
A one-track mind.
A drain you are.

Maybe it be best
I fall in love with a plumber next.
To give back what was mine
And he can provide
The Tools I need to avoid
My cup holds ice.
But in time, the ice will melt
From the warmth of another love
And a pair of hands
That can hold my heart.

I painfully learned
That my cup is not meant to be empty
And completely given to someone.
The majority is for me
I won’t be left thirsty.


Hear that?
It’s my cup, re-filling.
Good riddance.

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