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Mike West Aug 2012
Oh my little piece of poo,
How much that I do cherish you.
A texture like that of sticky clay.
With an aromatic, stiff bouquet.
I can roll you into little *****.
And stick you to the bathroom walls.
I can shape you any way I want.
And get some more with a little grunt.
If I want you a little runny,
I use prunes to fill my tummy.
"Add some color." did you say?
I'll just eat corn and peanuts. Yay!
Want some green, some red, some blue?
A box of fruitloops, that'll do!
If I want you a little lumpy,
I'll eat raw carrots, their kinda chunky!
Playdough can't come out of my ****,
And I can't make playdough with my gut.
Most people flush you far away.
But I recycle! With you I'll play!
So here's to you, my piece of poo.
Thank you so much for just being you!
Mike West Aug 2012
Hello again my piece of poo.
Sing your praises again I'll do.
You come in such a wide variety.
Your appearance sometimes surprises me.
Sometimes you plop like it just doesn't matter.
Other times you squirt and the whole bowl splatter.
Sometimes your color is a changing scheme.
Starting brown, ending tan and green.
At times you look like a soft serve cone.
At others like a log floating all alone.
Appearing as an island in the middle of my bowl.
Or like chocolate soup or a weird creole.
Sometimes you can tell what I had to eat.
Like corn or peanuts or some salad with some meat.
You are truly amazing, my precious piece of poo.
And again I say  "Thank you for just being you!"
Mike West Jun 2017
Here's a dream for someone to analyze. I was eating this stuff I was finding like a snack food but I didn't know what it was or where I was finding it. I just knew it was the best thing I ever tasted. It had a waxy texture that kinda stuck to my teeth and reminded me of perhaps candle wax but It was so good that I ran around to all my friends to get them to try it but no one would. In fact they were appalled that I was eating it at all. Eventually, as I continued to eat the stuff like I was addicted because I was, me friends started to chastise me and threaten to end our friendship if I didn't stop so I started to sneak eating it so no one would see me doing it. Eventually though, I got caught by my brother who acted very disappointed in me. So he threatened to commit me to an asylum if I didn't stop eating the stuff. I explained how tasty and good it was and that I didn't want to stop. He then told me in a stern voice to look at what I was eating so I looked down and in my hands were these very dark brown dried up cat turds that I was apparently retrieving from the litter box but I didn't remember where I got them from. As the realization of what I was eating dawned on me, I instantly became horrified. So horrified that I woke up and sat straight up in my bed. It was so vivid that I had to go to the bathroom and wash my mouth out. I think I will remember this dream for the rest of my life.
Mike West May 2012
Barefoot in my yard as I  did run
I felt not the grass, but something quite warm.
Between my toes I felt it squish
And make them slippery as a fish.
I stopped to look down and said "Oh ewww!"
"I stepped in a pile of doggy doo!"
'Twas fresh and warm between my toes
But made me wish I had no nose.
I walked back over to where it was
All the while my brain abuzz.
The slick sensation of my poopy toes
Felt kinda good and no one knows.
So I lifted my foot and stuck it back in
And squished the stuff through my toes again!
Mike West Dec 2012
In the coldness and the dark
Emptiness, existance stark
Not so much as a tiny spark
Unable to utter one remark

The emptiness of this void
Where mind and spirit are destroyed
Where despair is there deployed
Leaves you feeling paranoid

To all you call humanity
Ends now your affinity
Leaving you in calamity
And pusillanimity

Never from this place to move
Stuck forever in this groove
Never goodness to reprove
Of your wellness none behoove

Lost to you are faith and hope
As if pulled out by a rope
You not knowing how to cope
In the blackness vainly *****

And although you loudly cry
No one seems to even try
To lend you aid though nearby
All so simple but then why?

In you're every waking thought
A hopeless end that comes to nought
In a web seems to be caught
All the joy that you forgot

Out of the darkness of your fear
****** your mind of any cheer
Keenly edged and oh so near
It seems to you to be so dear

In this place of blackest mire
Death becomes your sole desire
As you begin to slowly tire
Of all the things you did admire

What would I do to be free?
End the life given me?
In this state I seem to see
No way to prosperity
Mike West Oct 2012
Diaper duty's not that bad.
The first few months go well.
Baby doesn't go that much,
And the poo does not yet smell.
When baby's very little,
And gets fed only milk
Baby's little excrement
Resembles brown mustard 'til...
Baby starts to grow a bit
And so does baby's poo.
The food they eat is more complex
And they poo much more like you.
Changing baby's diaper
Becomes more interesting.
And the smell that baby generates
Starts your nose to sting.
You learn real fast which foods cause
Your nostrils so much gloom.
And which of baby's foods are safe
And don't cause deadly fumes.
You also learn what kind of foods
Make baby's poo too stiff.
And what makes their poo so runny
They could poo through a sieve.
So take care of little baby
And always feed them right.
And be sure to check their diaper
Before turning out the light.
Mike West Dec 2018
Hello Facebook my old friend.
I'm reading posts on you again.
Up at 2:30 in the morning
Checking likes and shares and replying.
Read alerts beneath the ringing bell.
What the hell, am I doing on Facebook?

As through the posts I quickly scroll.
Seeing kittens, dogs and trolls.
Trying not to click on the ad spam.
Found a recipe for a baked ham.
And a private message from a long lost friend.
But I know not when.
I added this person, on Facebook.

10,000 clicks and maybe more.
My index finger's mighty sore.
All the smileys, likes and emojis.
Likes on my posts giving me jollies.
Requests from people that I do not even know.
My friends list grows.
To thousands of people, on Facebook.

"Will this nightmare ever end?"
I ask as I add a friend.
But all the games and all the puzzles.
Popping balloons and bursting bubbles.
I have got to try to get a better score.
It's such a chore.
Playing the games, on Facebook.

Suddenly one day I learned.
Zuckerberg on me had turned.
Selling all my saved information.
To companies in all lands and nations.
Making a profit off me like I was his ***.
I did not know.
Violated, by Facebook

But I did not stay mad long.
Even though it was so wrong.
I have to see how many likes I had.
I want to know this stuff awfully bad.
And now the data selling's out of mind.
And thus I find.
Myself again, on Facebook.
Mike West Jan 2014
Animal Crackers and my soup
Undigested in my ****
All the food I ate today
Coming out in the same way
Uncontrollable urge to strain
Even though it causes pain
My poor sphincter it does burn
And my guts just churn and churn
Pepto Bismol my old friend
Go right now and put an end
To the horrible, rancid flow
Burning my **** as it does go
Cramping spasms all day long
Something I ate went horribly wrong
Could it be the salad or bread?
Or maybe something not quite dead?
Perhaps it was the chicken or stew
Or the fish, boo hoo hoo!
I'm just praying for an end
So my **** can start to mend
And then suddenly to my surprise
That nasty flow simply dies
Gleefully I start to wipe
But then as I start to swipe
I hit a very tender spot
That feels like it is now red hot
Now the Charmin feels real rough
Like tree bark or abrasive stuff
I finish wiping with great care
While the pain I grin and bear
At last I stand and flush with glee
That nasty stuff that came from me
A moment later to my shagrin
I feel the urge to sit again
Mike West Aug 2012
You're on your way to where the job is at.
Wearing boots, coveralls, goves and a hat.
It's **** that floats in an unergroung vat.
You dig that up, but that isn't that.

You remove the old lid and there you find.
A smell that drives you out of your mind.
Digested food of every kind.
The sight of which makes you wish you were blind.

The special function of your work truck,
Is to siphon up all of that muck.
You start up the pump, and with any luck.
The machine will then sloppily ****.

Slurping hungrily at the waste.
And hopefully doing it with all due haste.
Removing a greyish sort of paste.
Feces, that five years, has been encased .

Now with the job almost through.
You suction up the last of the poo.
Replacing the lid but as you do.
Some of the stuff splashes on you.

It gets all over your clothes and your hat.
And all over your face. What's up with that?
Now you are as filthy as an old, greasy rat.
That was chased into a sewer by an ill tempered cat.

So you wipe your face with a rag that you brought.
Just in case that you might get caught.
In the kind of mess that has just been wrought.
A precaution of which, you had thankfully thought.

As that nasty job is finally finished.
And your good cheer is also diminished.
You can take a shower and so be replenished.
To face another day that you will be punished.
Mike West Sep 2012
Waking early in the morning and stepping out to see
The sun rise to begin, the day so beautifully
The sky was free of clouds and red off to the east
Dark blue toward the west. For my sleepy eyes a feast.
"Oh a flock of little birds flying overhead."
I couldn't help but watch them, so I tilted back my head.
Flying with great skill right over top of me.
I couldn't help but ponder "How wonderouse a thing to be."
And looking up to watch them, their beauty made me sigh
But then one bird, dropped a terd, right into my eye
It burned like a red hot poker, my eyeball was ablaze
I let out a painful cry and wiped it from my face
I tried to open my eye but the burning was too great
And now those little frikin' birds, I really began to hate
I swore to get revenge on that nasty little bird
That had the gall to bullseye me with it's frikin' terd
So I went to a store and purchased me a gun
A semi auto twelve gage, that should get 'er done
I purchased fifty shells each one filled with bird shot.
And hoped to **** that little bird and watch it's body rot.
So later in the evening of that very day
With a patch over my eye to keep the pain away
I formed the perfect plan to get my sweet revenge
And blow away that flying band in a ****** killing binge
I got up extra early and went outside and stayed
Very quiet so as not to ruin my vengful killing raid.
And just as I had hoped, like yesterday at this time.
"Here they come!" I thought with glee "Vengence will be mine!"
And just as they did yesterday, they flew right over head
And I chuckled to myself, "That sucker's gonna be dead!"
And as they came within my range, anticipation grew dire
Jumping up, I started yelling, and with my gun opened fire
"DIE YOU LITTLE TERD DROPPER!" Insanely I exclaimed
BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! seven lives I quickly claimed
BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! I Fired and more did fall
I looked again, and checking, I saw I'd killed them all.
And as I stood there looking at the little birds I'd killed
I asked myself, "Was it worth it? Was my revenge fulfilled?"
And as I contemplated these feelings that I had
A certain guilt came over me and I started to get sad.
But suddenly, in my eye, there was an awful burn
And I then knew I was right to **** them in return.
Mike West Jun 2016
I thought I heard you laughing there not far from me
So I turned to look where I thought you'd be
But much to my dismay as I became aware
That it was not you my heart sank in dispair
The laughter that I heard sounded as it should
I badly want to see you I truly wish I could
I know you had to leave though it was much too soon
But you stayed brave and bright like the sun up high at noon
I felt so very helpless as I watched you slip away
I'd have done anything but I couldn't make you stay
There was always laughter whenever you were near
And that is why I miss you my most beloved dear
You filled my life with love and my love for you did grow
Even to the day I had to let you go
All that's left are memories of someone I once had
And now that you are gone all I feel is sad
It was very hard to see the pain that you were in
You didn'd let it beat you and bravely held up your chin
How I deeply wished I could've taken your place
So that you could share your lovely, smiling face
Sadly, that was something that wasn't meant to be
And all I could do was hope that soon you'd be set free
To fly like an angel far away from here
And to never again have to shed a tear
Clearly I remember all the time I spent with you
All the laughs, and the smiles, and fun that we had too
Everything I taught you and all that I had learned
All the love I felt for you that had been truly earned
Every time you smiled or I wiped tears from your eyes
Up unto the time we said our last good-byes
I thought I heard you laughing
I want to dedicate this to anyone who has lost a child to cancer or other terminal illness.
Mike West Dec 2012
It rolls down hills and everything kills
It rolls over your neighbors house
It's a rock, a rock, a really big rock
everyone knows it's boulder!
It's boulder! It's boulder!
It's big, its heavy, its stone!
It's boulder! It's boulder!
Hurry get one of your own!
Hurry get one of your own!
Mike West Sep 2012
Hello there little piece of meat,
In my fridge I did not eat.
What a thing you have become!
What strange juices from you now run!
And that smell. Could that be you?
Oh my gosh! It's worse than poo!
And what is that? Hair you've grown?
You need a brush and perhaps a comb!
Are you alive, oh putrid thing?
Can you talk? Can you sing?
The colors that you are, now are new for you.
Alot of green, some yellow and moldy blue.
And just to think two weeks ago,
I ate you with some cooked bread dough.
Oh little piece of rotting flesh,
I'd eat now if you were fresh.
I wonder what you will become.
In two weeks more will you be done?
Will you mature like fine French cheese?
Or will you spread some strange disease?
In my fridge, will you date
The eggs, the milk or perhaps the cake?
You are amazing little piece of meat.
But you I think, I will not eat.
I think that I will pull you out.
And throw you away without a doubt.
Mike West Nov 2012
Hello there little hemorrhoid.
Hanging from my ****.
I really wish you'd go away,
'Cause you hurt like you know what.
At times you seem to disappear,
And then I have relief.
But when I go and take a dump,
You then return. "Good grief!"
You really make me feel,
Like I'm pooping broken glass.
Or something else that's jagged,
That I have to try and pass.
I don't want you to stay around,
My sphincter and I agree.
'Cause when I use the toilet paper,
It feels like bark from a tree!
I've used medicated pads
And even gooey cream.
But no matter what, you still return,
Like an awful, recurring dream!
From suppositories to cold packs
And using an air pillow.
There seems to be no relief
From you my little fellow.
I've heard that a specialist
Who braves that funky zone
Can remove you with a snip
But my wallet's empty and alone.
So I guess I am stuck with you
On my derriere
And with the pain I get from you
Causing me to swear!
Mike West Aug 2012
Little lung oyster all slimy and green.
In my chest resting quietly you have been.
Peacefully sleeping in your abode.
Disturbed by my coughing and up you rode.
projectile now free ascending my throat.
And into my mouth my tongue you did coat.
With your viscouse body spread all around.
A salty Taste I now have found.
Your texture, creamy and kinda stringy.
With parts of you thick and kinda clingy.
With my teeth, I scrape you off.
And swish you around into a froth.
Through my lips I let you fall.
And **** you back up, bubbles and all.
Oh little lung oyster you're a funny little thing.
Kinda like a slimy string.
Three more times I stretch you out.
And **** back into my mouth.
I then gather you on my tongue.
"P-too-ee!" From my mouth you are flung.
You speed away out of sight.
But not so far as I thought you might.
Your stringyness catches on my front teeth.
And you make a mess on me. "Oh good grief!"
The mess is far larger than I thought.
That something your size could possibly wrought.
You cover my chin and the front of my shirt.
And drip on my shoe. Like that's gonna hurt?
I look like I was run over by a fifty pound snail.
Or splashed with snot from a two gallon pail.
So I wiped what I could off my shirt and my chin.
And swore never to play with lung oysters again.
Mike West Aug 2012
Little pile of fur lying in the road,
What kind of debt could you have possibly owed?
To find yourself now in such a horrid state.
Your little life ending in this terrible fate.
Sitting quietly on that exact spot,
Slow cooked by the sun as on the road you rot.
Maggots now feed slowly on what little bit is left.
Your skin and your bones now of flesh bereft.
Your last moments spent trying to cross a road,
Where an eighteen wheeler sped with a twenty ton load.
Headlights bearing down on you, oh so all alone,
Rubber tires hitting you harder than a stone.
Frozen in the light, you were terrified,
And in a split second becoming liquified.
A little bag of skin that suddenly got popped.
Like a water baloon after having been dropped.
Your guts and stuff splattered everywhere.
The only things left, skin, bones and some hair.
Buzzards and crows now begin to feed,
On a ****** gut shake, yum indeed.
Soon nothing of you will remain,
But a brownish, greyish sort of stain.
Poor little road **** didn't have a chance,
Guess you should have taken a second glance.
Before you crossed that road without a care,
You might not now resemble the stain in my underware.
Mike West Nov 2016
Little Princess Perfect without a single flaw
Thought that she was perfect in every way she saw
But one day she ran into a crazy, orange man
Who said "I am better and will beat you because I know I can"
Princess perfect laughed and her court well they laughed too
"You cannot win against me and my loyal crew!"
Little Princess Perfect and the man with funny hair
Got into a contest that seemed far from fair.
Princess Perfect with her legions of subjects said
"You're a sexist bigot and have an orange head!"
So the man replied to her face "And you're a crooked cuck!"
"You're also sick and greedy you lying, corporate schmuck!"
Little Princess Perfect who thought she'd already won
Laughed and played and called him names while he continued to run
"I will make this kingdom great once again I vow!"
And multitudes applauded him as he took a bow.
"You're all deplorable!" Princess Perfect cried
"How can you sleep at night taking this orange faced man's side?"
"Princess Perfect your days are numbered." he said in return
"People want this kingdom great. That's for what they yearn"
"People will never choose you!" Princess Perfect said
"Look at the polls you orange ****! You're as good as dead!"
And all her court agreed she had already won
So laugh and play they did having unending fun.
Then when the day came to decide the combatant's fate
Princess Perfect with her court could hardly stand to wait.
"Get ready to celebrate my loyal, faithful fans!"
Princess perfect cried to all throughout the land.
And as the kingdom came together and began to count the votes
Princess Perfect felt a lump deep in her throat.
"What the hell is happening?" She cried to her staff.
The totals made no sense to her and all had ceased to laugh
"This is impossible! He's pulling way ahead!"
Princess Perfect panicked and her soul filled with dread
"I am Princess Perfect! I know I cannot lose!"
But the kingdom voted and the crazy orange man they did choose.
Mike West Sep 2012
Hello little maggots in my doggy's poo
What exactly is it in there that you do?
You're living and you're thriving on my doggies waste
Wonder what it is exactly that you taste?
The taste to you must be good
Living there like maggots should
How is it though you stand the smell?
It is sickening, or can't you tell?
Is it warm inside your home?
Or is it cold, but you can't roam?
There it's moist and food is found.
So why crawl about on the ground?
All your needs are found therein.
A natural home from my best friend.
Squirming and munching in the sun.
There's plenty there for everyone!
You better hurry though, because soon.
Your home will dry up like a prune.
Turning a shade of greyish white
All of the moisture vanished from sight.
Before then, though, you'll grow wings
And buzz about and laugh and sing.
You will search with not far to roam
To find your children a brand new home.
A freshly manufactured double wide
Nice and fresh. Step inside!
A perfect place to lay your eggs,
To hatch and grow little wings and legs.
They'll eat their fill and that's for sure.
There's plenty here and my dog makes more.
But beware of when I mow the lawn,
Your little white bodies in half will be sawn.
And your poopy home, it will be splatterd
And across my yard you will be scattered.
But I can help with a better plan
I'll scoop you up and throw you in a can.
Mike West Dec 2012
Oh my precious little kite
Ready now for our first flight.
Ready to soar up out of sight
Fly so high with all our might

You've all the string that I could bring
Soon you'll fly and I will sing
In the sky so high in spring
As with joy my heart will ring

With your tail so fine and long
In you I seem to find no wrong
Your frame of wood I made so strong
High in the sky you'll be erelong

A kite of wondrous colors mild
Sailing into yonder wild
I looked up as I smiled
How the joy upon me piled

See you dance so gracefully
Alive and being all you can be
Seeing things I'll never see
And sharing the moment's memory

Up so high in the springtime sun
Higher than birds, my little one
Farther up than I could run
Oh how well that you have done!

I watch you soar, you see me play
In the breezy springtime day
Forever here, I wish to stay
Never this time to pass away

I never knew you'd fly so high
Far up in the springtime sky
Me to you a string does tie
Upon which now we both rely

For the wonder that we share
Simply just could not be there
If for you I did not care
The string to slip I do not dare

You and I, we are a team
And the wind and sun do seem
To help us make a living dream
In the sky we rule supreme
Mike West Oct 2012
I look at you with child like wonder
Beholding beauty and I ponder
Is this just lust for whom is yonder?
Is my heart true and my soul fonder?

You are beautiful outwardly
And even more that I can see
Your inner good and purity
With you I'd spend eternity

The blazing beauty of your face.
Lights every dim and dreary place.
A feeling that I must embrace.
A feeling fine, like fancy lace.

I know that you are very bright
A very radiant kind of light
Surrounds you whether day or night
You have a second, deeper sight

You have a caring, tender heart
A loving soul and for your part
Give to others from the start.
A way from darkness, you can chart.

Your intelligence does far exceed
The average persons average need
And for you, naught can impead
Your souls desire to succeed

Determination, that I admire.
Your cleverness sets me afire
I do not want a pet or liar
My need for you is truly dire

I'd give anything to be more near.
To you, my most beloved, dear.
But what it is that I do fear,
As sometimes I do shed a tear.

That you and I must never be.
It would not be good for thee.
I am old, your twenty-three
And death will surely come for me.

And so for you, that I wish too,
I pray you'll find, one who loves you
And holds, as I, a love that's true.
And some day say to you "I do."
Mike West May 2013
My only child, whom I love
Angels sent you from above
As pure to me as a white dove
A happiness I knew not of

Every day your shining face
Showed me love I could embrace
My heart and soul it interlaced
To never move from it's place

We really did have lots of fun
You and I, little one
I never wanted it to be done
Every moment in the sun

Although we were torn apart
For a while, for your part
You loved me still in you heart
And faith, in me, you did impart

Yours is love,the greatest gift
And it does, my spirits lift
Though there was an enormous rift
You never from my heart did drift

You never failed, my loving child
To show to me your caring mild
Your angel face that always smiled
And many kisses upon me piled

And now that you are fully grown
The memories that I do own
Seeds, that in my heart were sown
Of happiness that we have known

And even though I reminisce
Of times, I feel, that I did miss
Or of you was, perhaps remiss
These you tenderly dismiss

Your everything a child should be
I truly feel your love for me
And in you myself I see
Everything good of some degree

And I do know as time goes on
As surely as there will be dawn
That even after I am gone
Your love for me will live on
Mike West Aug 2012
Blowing boogers on the ground.
Blowing boogers all around.
Blowing boogers in the street.
Blowing boogers on my feet.
Blowing boogers down the hall.
Blowing boogers on the wall.
Blowing boogers , I don't care!
Blowing boogers everywhere!
Did that one land in my soup?
Oh well, I'll eat it! Its not ****.
Did that one land on my pants?
Or did it ricochet per chance?
Did I blow some on your vest?
Holy crap! There's the rest!
Did I blow some in your hair?
Just comb it out and wipe it there!
Did I blow some in your eye?
Oh come on, no need to cry!
Just pick it out and wipe it on
The very thing you sit apon!
Blowing boogers, that's for me!
No hanky here, set them free!
Away they'll fly to a new home.
Far brighter than the one they're from.
So go no hanky, then you'll see.
Flying boogers are meant to be!
Mike West Dec 2012
Hello little fly lying there on the ground
Did you ever stop to think what end would come around?
Did you ever wonder how it may all end?
What kind of death that fate did wait to quickly your way send?
Most of the time generally you get old and die
All the buzzing stops at once, and in silence there you lie
Another common way in which you may have died
Is when your inside someones house and they spray insecticide
You start to get all dizzy and fly iratically
As the chemicals penetrate and affect you dramatically
After a few seconds though, you stop flying around at all
On your back you spin around break dancing there you sprawl
Another way that's quicker and happens just like that
Is when you're swiftly swatted and you insides go 'Ker-splat!'
That is rather messy as everyone can see
All your guts and blood get spread. Oh my goodness me!
All your little entrails and intestines so fine
And look at that. Your blood is red! The same color as like mine!
Sometimes there are even eggs that get squirted out
A death and an abortion, simultaneously no doubt
There's also an electric zapper that does a real fast job
Twenty thousand volts that your life from you does rob
You simply explode and your parts vaporize
Into fly mist without any time to say your last goodbyes
But the slowest and most gruesome by far seems to be
The fly strip that beckons you with a smell of food for free
As soon as you land there thinking it's a treat
You find yourself stuck there by your six little feet
The more you struggle though, the more the glue does bind
But it seems to take very long, you for death to find
Sometimes you squirm there for oh so many hours
Sometimes so stuck moving would take super powers
And then what is this grossness that I see
Little tiny baby worms squirming out of thee
I wonder if they realize that you're in trouble dire
And decide to abandon ship to escape the deadly mire
I guess it is that you flies have no morals or loyalty
The only thing on your minds survival seems to be
Mike West Sep 2012
I wish I was not standing here on this bus,
Where the crowd is so thick and the people do fuss.
For in pain right now, I am, you see.
And all alone, I wish to be.
'Cause all of the pain is deep in my gut.
And the only relief is out of my ****.
Just a little relief , I hope to measure,
From a small release of some of this pressure,
No one should notice, there are so many here.
So I'll relax a little and open my rear.
Oops! Oh no! That's not just gas!
It's way thicker and sticks to my ***!
Uh oh! Wait a minute! This is not right!
I can't stop the flow! C'mon ****, get tight!
It doesn't matter how hard I try,
I can't seem to stop it! I don't know why!
Soon, surely, someone will notice a smell.
A funky odor that has come to dwell.
It's getting worse 'cause my underware's full!
And now down my legs, the stuff starts to roll.
A puddle now forms at my feet on the floor.
Oh my gosh! Where is the door?!
But it's too late and it really shows,
I'm having problems, so's everyones nose.
They all start gagging and yelling "P-U!!"
"Who is the idiot that passed that poo!!"
And just as the flow finally does stop,
Down the aisle comes an off duty cop.
"Hey!" He exclaimed. "What's wrong with you!?"
"You can't just stand there and take a poo!"
"I'm sorry sir!" I  tried to explain.
"I was having extreme abdominal pain!"
"I thought I could vent a little gas,"
"When out of my **** this liquid did pass!"
"I wanted to stop it!" I said as I cried.
"It just kept on comming, no matter how hard I tried!"
And as I stood weeping because of my shame,
All of the people, to my aid came.
They all gave me tissues and one guy a mop.
So I took them all and started to sop.
By the time I was home, I had cleaned it all up.
And,thankfully,did it without throwing up.
I thanked everyone and apologized.
And from then on I realized
That if you're on a bus and have to pass gas,
Make sure you have kleenex to cover your ***.
Mike West Aug 2012
Hello ***** underware that I refused to change.
Sixteen days is just a bit beyond your wearing range.
Poor overworn underware, How crusty you are! Wow!
You've stiffened up overnight. I ought to wash you now.
You look like that, maybe, you have seen some better days.
There's a long , brown streak down your back and in front a yellow place.
There's a grey deposit, where my two boys were at.
And something else, I know not what, between the brown and that.
The aroma that exudes from you is quite beyond belief.
It smalls far worse than a fetid corps, and came from me? Good grief!
So come now overworn underware. Into the wash you'll go.
I've added extra bleach so the stuff on you won't grow.
In the soapy water, the crust will disappear.
And out you'll come, white like new, with nothing else to fear.
Mike West Aug 2012
Pickled piglet in a jar
Oh what a mystery you are.
Preserved there in your piglet brine.
You could stay young there for all time.
With your little, wrinkled, piglet nose,
And your tiny, cloven, piglet toes.
A classroom project you'll someday be,
For a student of biology.
They'll take you out and start to cut,
And open up your piglet gut.
They'll peel away your piglet skin,
And expose everything therin.
They'll open your little piglet head,
Oh well, who cares, you're already dead.
They'll remove your little piglet brain,
Thank goodness you can feel no pain.
They'll remove your little piglet eyes,
And take those apart. C'mon guys!
They'll examine all your piglet parts,
Lungs, liver, stomach, little piglet heart.
And when, eventually, they're all through,
It's to the garbage can with you!
Mike West Oct 2013
Pooey, pooey, poo. Gee, I smell you. It's time to take a bath now.
Stinky, stinky, doo, you friends do to. You reek and oh you stink, wow!
So could you hurry to the shower and rub some soap all over you ***. Don't hold back!
And if you do remove the peu you'll find your friends won't gag and hack. That's a fact!
So pooey, pooey, poo. What will you do? There's a bathtub fillin'.
Stinky, stinky, doo. It's up to you. To wash off that penicillin.
Mike West Aug 2012
Popping pimples 'cause they're there.
Popping pimples without a care.
Popping pimples is so much fun!
Popping pimples on everyone!
Popping pimples on your mate.
Popping pimples on your date.
Popping pimples on your dad.
Popping pimples that you had.
Popping pimples on your sister.
Popping pimples. That one missed her!
Flying ****, that's for me.
Little, yellow specks fly free!
Popping pimples everywhere!
Watch them sail through the air!
See you laugh, watch them run!
Ewww! There goes another one!
Mike West Nov 2012
Popping pimples once again
Popping pimples, where have you been?
Missing pimples when they're gone,
I'm out of ammo, wait there's one!
Thinking up new games of skill
New ways that **** gives me a thrill
Pop it straight up into the air
Catch it on your tongue, if you dare.
Target practice with a friend
Hope this fun will never end!
See who's better, as you try,
To hit each other in the eye!
You'll still have fun all alone
Squirt them on a plate of foam!
Dry them out and scrape them up
And keep them in a little cup!
Show your collection all around
All your friends you will astound!
Who's got more? Why its me!
With a total of seventy-three!
Before you run out, find your sister
And this time try not to miss her!
Mike West May 2012
What kind of state is this state that I am in?
Has the world put me in a state I've never been?
I really would like to go out into the light.
But I don't think I can manage it, at least not tonight.
But someday I will. You wait, you'll see.
Then in a far better state I will be.
Brave and true and shining like the sun.
I will be an inspiration to everyone!
But for now I better stay where I am at.
Safe and secure. Is there something wrong with that?
Am I a coward? Is that what you say?
Crippled in a particular,peculiar way?
Right now I am maimed and a little messed up.
But soon I will heal and get all dressed up.
And I'll go outside into the bright light.
But I think for now I'll just say goodnight.
Mike West Sep 2012
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!
Mike West Nov 2012
Cutting you open just to see,
What the cause of death could be.
Lets open the chest and try to find,
What killed this person. Death of what kind?
Spread those ribs a little wider,
So we can see what's inside 'er.
Use a saw on that skull,
Not a hatchet or a maul.
Remove that brain and check it out.
Tell me what they were thinking about.
Cut some more. Into the belly.
Is it full of bread and jelly?
Did they eat some chicken soup?
Did they have to take a ****?
Is the liver nice and clean?
How's the kidneys and the spleen.
Where's that blood work and tissue sample?
Your time for analysis has been ample.
The end results are inconclusive,
'Cause all your parts are unobtrusive.
The only thing that they can find,
Is that death is never very kind.
Mike West Oct 2012
Just as dark rolls back and the sun rises nigh
And dawns light can be seen in the eastern sky.
From his forest home comes carefully and shy
The deer with his headdress held proudly so high.

His keen, bright eyes look sharply and true
For danger learks but that's nothing new
For the experience he has his rack does shew
Ten terminating ends that his antlers do

He steps forth, onto the grassy clearing
Sensing no threat that he need bewaring
He continues farther out, more bold and daring
Making sure the grass is safe before sharing

And just as he is about to feed
On tender grass his most favorite indeed
It hits his side and he starts to bleed
For it has pierced him causing dire need

Unable run, to the ground he does fall
He coughs on his blood, losing it all
And in the distance, hears a cheerful call
"Hooray! I got him!" From a tree so tall

What remained unknown to the wise, old buck
The threat in a tree, such bad luck
Waiting to tie a deer to the top of his truck
A hunter, by who's bullet, the deer was struck.

Please don't think that I am against hunting
It's just the facts of life that I am confronting
Because you'll see me here quietly munching
On a deer steak I fried and am now lunching!
Mike West Aug 2012
One summer day as my bike I rode,
I spied in the street a flattened out toad.
I stopped to look and it was neat,
Perfectly flat against the street.
It must have happened as it crossed the road,
And a car turned it into a flattened out toad.
Its guts had popped out and lay at its side,
And in the hot sun, had perfectly dried.
Its eyeballs were out at each side of its head.
This poor thing was instantly dead.
And as I gazed at it apon the hot asphalt,
I thought to myself "It's not it's fault."
"I'll take it away and bury it right."
So I put it in my pocket and rode out of site.
I rode real hard and I rode quite fast
So the flattened out toad could rest in peace at last.
I ran to the tool shed for a trowl and a pick
So I could dig a hole in which the toad to stick.
Then I ran to the stream and grabbed a small stone
To mark the flattened toads final resting home.
I dug a small hole in the nearby wood
And placed the stone so the grave looked good.
I then reached into my pocket, but to my disbelief,
The toad had disappeared.  "Holy crap! Good grief!"
I knew it couldn't fall out of the pocket in my pants.
So I thought checking again was worth a chance.
I checked once more."Oh please!" I begged.
This time I found the toads two front legs.
I searched with my fingers, deeper yet again.
Then pulled out what looked a flipper or a fin.
"What happened to it?" I began to ponder.
Then I realized, "It is no wonder."
"The riding and running and digging so rough,"
"Had ground the poor toad into parts and stuff."
So I turned out my pocket gently with great care
And checked to make sure all its parts were still there.
Its eyes and its legs, its feet and its head,
Its guts and its body could now go to bed.
I took all the parts and most of the skin
So that, the grave, they could lay therin.
I covered it with dirt and as there I sat,
In the distance I heard a distinctive "Ker-Splat!"
Mike West Aug 2012
The boy haden't bathed in over a month
His **** crack was itching and burning
His underpants were soaked in slimy, wet muck
And his toes a thick jam were churning
His armpits stank worse than a fat pigs raw ***
His breath smelled like rancid fish
His hair was so oily, matted to his head
His own mother wouldn't give him a kiss
"Enough!" he cried as a passing fly died
When he raised his arm to exclaim.
"I must bathe right away! I am long overdue!"
"I sure hope the washcloths are brave."
"To the bathroom man!" He shouted as he ran
And his underpants sloppily squished
"I will remove this filth and brush my green teeth"
"And my mother I will kiss!"
"The closet's ahead!" He said as he sped.
And he stopped there to get some stuff.
Some soap, some shampoo and a towel or two.
But he knew that it wasn't enough.
Look though he might, to his horror and fright,
Not a single washcloth could he find.
Then panic set in 'cause the stink of his skin
Was driving him out of his mind.
He looked yet again but to his chagrin
The washcloth shelf was bare.
The washcloths had run off
For they would not wash
So filthy a boy on a dare
"Oh what will I do!" "Boo-hoo, boo-hoo!"
The boy cried as flies swarmed his head.
"I'd **** myself but I already smell"
"Far worse than anything dead!"
Then one washcloth came back
Holding it's nose and a sack
Of bath salts that smelled like dill.
It said to the boy "Go pickle yourself!"
"And give me a nausea pill!"
So the boy rejoiced and filled the tub
With water, hot as he could stand.
And using the bath salts, he jumped right in
And the pickling began.
He lathered the washcloth with water and soap
And scrubbed with all of his might.
Away he washed all of the filth
'Til none was left in sight.
He washed his hair and brushed his teeth
And dried and dressed himself well.
And the washcloth exclaimed as it hung on the tub
"Holy crap! that was pure hell!"
So the boy now clean ran to be seen
By his mother he loved so much.
And she gave him a kiss and said "This is pure bliss!"
"I can kiss you and keep down my lunch!"
The moral I'll tell you and true I will be
So no one will say that I lied.
Don't wait a whole month to take a bath
Or you washcloths may run and hide.
Mike West Dec 2012
This morning I had to go ***** so bad
I squeezed and I pushed with all that I had
And after what seemed like a great battle
I heard a ker-plunk from what I did straddle
The mighty splash that this thing made
To have a look, my curiosity bade
So up I did rise slowly and sure
So as not to drop any poo onto the floor
I looked into the bowl not believing my eyes
This terd was of a most bodacious size
The cause of the strain was now easy to see
I new then not what I had set free
It leaned upright on the side of the bowl
Like it was in a jacuzi relaxed and whole
As I looked at it again in utter disbelief
I knew I had to flush away my relief
But when I pushed the handle on the toilet I found
All the **** did is spin round and round
Like a wooden stick in water being stirred
I was amazed at the stiffness of this ****
When the flush was done I looked with disdain
The **** was still there and left not even a stain
I flushed again with greater resolve
And the **** broke in half as it did revolve
But then as it started to finally go down
Something then happened that made me frown
It got stuck and clogged up the hole
I watched in horror as water filled the bowl
It plugged the toiled up tight like a cork
And now I wished I'd chopped it up with a fork
I grabbed the plunger from off of the floor
And plunged real hard, for my toiled to restore
But though I plunged with all of my might
It seemed that the **** was winning this fight
After several minutes the water went down
But only at a trickle as again I did frown
So along I did move from plan A to plan B
I'd show this **** who's the boss, not it, but me
So with hot water, a bucket I did fill
And dumped it in so it could swallow that pill
After twenty buckets, the **** did give way
And I was able to flush. Hip-Hip-Hooray!
Mike West Aug 2012
'Twas Christmas again and the tree was up with tinsel all around.
But by the weird behavior of my cat, there was tinsel where it shouldn't be found.
She was dragging her **** across the floor in a most peculiar way.
Like something was wrong or she had an itch or needed hemorrhoid cream right away.
I caught the cat because I knew this behavior was not right.
So I lifted her tail and, just as I thought, beheld a terrible sight.
A little piece of tinsel stuck right, well you know where.
I then knew I had a task to do that I would not do on a dare.
I held the kitty in my arm and went and found a glove.
And prepared to do what must be done but definitely not out of love.
The kitty's strange behavior was more than I could allow.
Dragging her **** across the floor like a tractor drags a plow.
So with kitty in my arm and her tail in my hand,
I grabbed the piece of tinsel and pulled gently on the strand.
I tried to be careful so the tinsel would not break.
But when I pulled, her little **** clinched."Oh for goodness sake!"
It was quite a sight to see, this twisted tug-of-war.
I think that I am winning! Here comes a little more!
After half an hour, the battle, I finally won.
I held a little trophy that I extracted from her ***.
So if you come to my house at Christmas time next year,
A tree you'll see with ***** and lights and no tinsel anywhere.
Mike West Nov 2012
Finishing a job I had started by sitting down
I had to do the paper work before I left town.
So I took what I had thought was an adequate supply
And wrapped it 'round my left hand to keep it clean and dry.
Reaching beneath gingerly and taking extra care
My mission was to use it to clean my derrier.
Then without any warning and much to my chagrin
A finger broke through the paper and charged right in.
This I had not planned for nor could I predict.
That into my poopy ****, a finger I would stick.
This was not the worse thing to happen to me my friend.
There was much worse ahead on this trail before the end.
My very first reflex was to pull my finger out.
An automatic, involuntary reaction no doubt.
But my hand ****** back too quicly, and this is no joke.
The toilet paper and my hand the water now did soak.
Now I had real problems, this was a frikin mess!
There with my hand under my ****, wrapped in poopy, wet paper no less!
I tried to drop the paper, but did't have any luck.
'Cause the poopy, wet paper, to my hand was now stuck.
I couldn't shake it off and with nothing with which to scrape.
I started getting desperate, it seemed there was no escape.
Suddenly it occurerd  to me, there was a ray of hope.
So I stuck my hand in the water, where the poopy paper would soak.
I slowly pulled back my hand, and much to my delight,
The paper lost it's sticky grip and sank slowly out of sight.
I let the water drip completely from my soaked left hand.
I then pulled it out slowly and  held it over a waste can.
I got more paper and completely wiped my hand off.
Then finished what I had started before this messy standoff.
The lesson that I learned, since this adventure did begin.
Is that paper work ain't easy, if the paper's too thin!
Mike West May 2013
As in the west glows setting sun
Red and crimson, as day's near done
Forest deer from brook do drink
From it's burrow scurries forest mink
Birds fly home to trees to roost
As crickets to singing are induced
A small frog as though on a whim
Into the brook dives to swim
With crickets chirp comes twilight nigh
As sun's last light leaves the sky
Out comes the first night time star
The heavens first jewel seen so far
Peace and quiet fill the land
A man travels with his bag of sand
To sleep for now many do fall
As others awake to night's first call
As forest is swolowed in evenings dark
In the distance sings a meadow lark
All in the forest now is right
For the saying of good night
Mike West Dec 2016
** ** **! ** ** **! We think Santa smells!
We think Santa smells. And he smells like hell
It's not to laugh 'cause Santa needs a bath!
Yes, we think Santa smells.
Sweating day and night, in his suite so tight.
Stop this debate 'cause it's too late.
Yes we think Santa smells.
We have had about enough of this stinky man.
We must surely formulate a bathing plan.
Santa's gone too long and the odor's strong.
Don't be a dope and grab that soap!
'Cause we think Santa smells.
(Instrumental)
We've an urgent job to do so our eyes won't tear.
Every time to us Santa Claus comes near.
We think Santa smells. And he smells like hell.
It's not to laugh 'cause Santa needs a bath.
Yes we think Santa smells.
** **!
Merry Christmas!
Mike West Dec 2014
Is reality mostly empty space?
Or all our experiences in this place?
A fleeting smile on a loved ones face,
That disappears without a trace?

By what scale do we measure?
Is it our pain and our pleasure?
What we trash and what we treasure?
What we do for fun or leisure?

In our agony or our ******,
Do we think that we can see,
What is truly meant to be?
And are we really, truly free?

All the places we must go,
Is it only just a show?
And all the things that we must know,
Do they truly help us grow?

Do we simply live and die?
Do we ever truly fly?
In the end you can only try.
Just keep looking to the sky.
Mike West Oct 2012
What in the world is wrong with me?
Writing poems about gross stuff I see.
Like ***** matter and old underwear
Is there something odd up there?
Poems all about maggoty dog poo,
Popping pimples and what else did I do?
I wrote a poem about a piece of ****
And a guy blowing boogars in his soup
One about a pickled pig in a jar
Do I think this will make me a star?
About a guy who was stuck on a bus
Who had an accident and there was a fuss
I also wrote one about my pet cat
With tinsel in her ****. What's up with that?
I also have a poem about picking everything
from teeth to **** and finger licking
I wrote about an autopsy that happens when your dead
Is there a short circuit inside of my head?
You know I had to write about farting gas
And what happens when something else you pass.
And about a guy killing a bunch of birds
Just because one, in his eye, dropped a terd
About inflamed hemroids and rotten, spoiled meat
And a terd eating dog. That's not neat!
One about a boy not bathing for a month
I wonder if that wasn't my millionth.
I even have one about digging up old poo
And one about changing diapers. Oh eww!
I'm sure that soon there will be more to come
With the way my brain works and where I'm from
So 'til then I think I'll end this tirade
And hope you'll read the next mess made.
Mike West Oct 2012
What more is there to say,
On this lovely summer day?
Is this a word game that we play?
Why are we trying to delay?

Are we going to have a fight?
Do you really think we might?
Or will we just begin to write,
Our feelings, now so contrite?

You think we have any regret
That we should not just forget?
Or should we take the running bet
And just repay the awful debt?

Is that all there is to you?
Will you still wear that same old shoe?
Or is it that you still hope to
Find out what you want to do?

Can we make that kind choice?
Will they ever hear our voice?
How will we know when to rejoice?
Can we dance with grace and poise?

How often have we really thought?
That all we plan may come to naught?
Has any of our experience taught,
That our path, with pain, was fraught?

When may we start to celebrate,
Our positions that we delegate?
And with wily skills deliberate?
If the precious egg, we'll not incubate?

Are we only having fun?
Why isn't everyone?
Is the party really done?
Is it smart for us to run?

Will we ever make up our mind,
To do that which we know is kind?
Can we, our fears, truly bind?
Are we really completely blind?

Some think that we should just quit
And maybe just get over it
But most of us will not admit
We're falling into an endless pit
Mike West May 2013
Where we stand
Things at hand.
Sifting sand
Flames are fanned.

Not far off
In a trough.
Selfish quaff
Freedoms doff.

On which side
Will you ride?
Of this slide
You'll abide?

No insight
Of their fright.
To the light
Eyes shut tight.

Why deny
Never try?
As we buy
And let die.

People yell
What the hell?
Can you tell
when to sell?

State of sin
All are in.
What to win
From this din?

What is fair?
As all stare.
Do beware
Lest you err.

And what toll
From your soul?
Does the whole
reach their goal?

In the end
Did they fend?
Did they mend?
Or love send?
Mike West May 2017
Long ago when the time came for two of every animal to board Noah's ark to avoid the coming flood, every animal, except the Unicorns, made it onto the boat because the unicorns were too busy frolicking and playing in the grass. So when the flood came and the unicorns saw that they were going to drown they cried out "Oh Lord, please save us from the rising water that we may not drown!" On hearing their cries and seeing the unicorns in such danger, God asked them "Why did you not board the ark as you were told to?" And the unicorns replied "We were too busy playing and forgot. We are sorry! Please help us!" So God, having mercy on them, changed them into whales so that they would not drown and would survive the flood. And that is why the narwhal whales have horns and why unicorns no longer exist.

— The End —