Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Steve Aug 2018
.

Three little Piggy’s
Wallow in the swill
Who’s going to show them
What happened to Jill?

Little Jack Horner
Scourge of the sauna
Who’s going to tell him
Bo peeps round the corner.

Piggy’s in the middle
Cat’s on the fiddle
Who’s going to stop them
The answer’s a riddle?
For all the missing poets.
Viseract Aug 2018
If I'd a dime for every rhyme
That popped inside my head
Wishing plague and misery
To **** what is already dead

Then perhaps some day, should I have my way
I'd bring silence to the lambs
**** it's bleating, end it's breathing
And let me rest amongst the ******

We cursed few do mock the blessed
We dance on your very grave
If only you saw perspective
You'd know there's none to save!

Time, time and time again
You promised to make change
And now my mind won't SHUT UP
It knows that I'm to blame!

I did this, I did that
I know what wicked ends
Have forged the stage of sorrows
That gave you all there was left

With piggy eyes and snuffling pride
Your wretched filth, and life
Have tempted fate, as of late
Now scream, pig, and die...
Mary-Eliz Jul 2018
I see you there looking at me
cutest thing you'll ever see
pink peach fuzz all over myself
I sort of look like a cute little elf

my nose pokes through the fence
to show my eyes black and intense
I'm just a little guy, won't be a hog
I'll get along great if you have a dog

I'll be loyal, I can learn tricks
I'll trot along, feet making clicks
I want a home, I want to be taken
just please, oh please, don't name me "Bacon"
Cutest picture of a little pig! I want one.
Henry Koskoff Jul 2018
Crimson curtains opening and closing and draping over a cliff say:
          it’s showtime
          (or lights going on and off).

Let’s go through the alphabet and use alliteration:
          Daffy Duck, Porky Pig,
          (or other creatures getting hurt tonight).

I hope and dream that their hopes and dreams have plummeted like their bodies:
          by the wayside
          (or waist-side, or waste-side, or cliffside)—

low tide that surges shores like the seamstress from New Zealand:
          those Kiwis,
          (or feijoas, or passionfruit).

But passion don’t matter to us folks, and neither do kangaroos! We have our own hops:
          Pabst Blue Ribbon draining in sad funnels
          (or Bud Light, a treasure).

Second is the best, but Third is the one with that treasure chest in his stupid palm:
          not even knowing what to do
          (or how to act).

Are you serious, bro? It’s called a shotgun! Shoot it with my key:
          pop the cap to release pent-up pressure
          (or you can just chug normally).

Choo-choo trains chug, Thomas and me, little plastic wheels in hot pursuit:
          I know you can do it
          (or my name’s not Percy),

as I violently consume swizzle sticks before the sepia glow of:
          That’s all, folks!
          (Or is it?)
Olive Mulligan Apr 2018
Pig
A twisted roast;
with a contorted face
of agony that most
blur just to taste.

God’s wrath beat fires
through the muscles
of impetuous liars.
Beaming pink like jewels

and impaling the fools
that build podgy prizes
of blood filled sacred pies.
Just for the masses.

Now prodding blackened fat
with a spitting adulation
caressing their tongue
on delicate tender tissue

courtesy of your virtue,
just six months and a quarter
cuz i'm just a pig who
lost life to the slaughter.
Meg Howell Mar 2018
My hands, my eyes, my heart
They’ve done me wrong in this time of need
I control these things, therefore,
I let these things control me
And now I’m desperately searching for an escape, a peace
You are the refuge
My luxury in a sea of mediocrity
And I cry out to the sky,
For my core is rotten,
I’m a dying pig swarmed with flies, choking on cotton
But with you I’m not forgotten,
I’ll never be forgotten,
Renew my broken heart
That’s all I crave
Purcy Flaherty Mar 2018
I know that you love me and it feels just fine baby when you squeeze me tight,
I know that you love me and it feels just fine baby when you turn out that light,
Yes I know that you love me honey and it’s true it feels kind of funny;
But hay! we’re going to make like bunnies just wait a minute honey while I sing this song!

I know that you love me and it feels just fine baby when you squeeze me tight,
I know that you love me and it feels just fine baby when you turn out that light,
Yes I know that you love me honey and it’s true it feels kind of funny;
But hay! we’re going to make like bunnies just wait a minute honey while I get it on!

I know that you love me and it feels just fine baby when you squeeze me tight,
I know that you love me and it feels just fine baby when you turn out that light,
And one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight seconds may go by as I sing to you
This sweet lullaby! This sweet lullaby! This sweet lullaby! For you!

Youtube link to song
https://youtu.be/jMRkB40O-PQ
Youtube link to song
https://youtu.be/jMRkB40O-PQ
Lemon Wren Dec 2017
My turtle is left handed
(Or footed, I should say)
He cooks and eats and plays guitar
All night and yes, all day.

My rabbit is a weird one,
Her fur a shade of blue.
Though on Tuesdays, it turns yellow.
I don't know what to do.

My prize pig would be normal,
Though I tell you with a sigh,
He blows raspberry bubbles,
A mile wide and high.
Hasan Aspahani Jul 2017
How Can a Moon Make a Shadow from a Boar's Body in a Forest Feeling The Entire Night?

2. Is the River in The Forest Choosing Himself Where He Was Turning or He Should Ask the Wild Boar Frequently Crossing It?

3. How Many Wild Boars in The Forest Have Ever Realized That There is Always a Moon-shaped Shadow from its Body?

4. If the Boar is Dead, Is the Shadow Dead or Staying and Hiding in The Shadow of The Forest?

5. Has The Wild Boar Ever Thinking That Moon Is a Boar Stuck at the Elevation Then Slept and Sleep Is On?

6. Is the Forest to Which There is No Boar Still Worthy to be Called Forest? Why No Boar Moon? Night Boar?

7. Can Later When I Die and Bury in the Forest, Then from My Grave Go Out a Wild Boar Without Shadow?
Next page