Mr Uku Feb 17
My friend Sue
Did a great big poo
In the middle of the street
Cos she couldn’t find a loo

Now she’s locked in jail
Where she poos in a pail
So please learn a lesson
From this very sad tale
The lesson is, don't poo in the street.
Some people have been trying to find the metaphor in this poem. There isn't one. I don't understand them. It's just about poo.
Ahh the morning springs eternal
the glorious light through cedar trees
out onto the lanai, my coffee comes with me

The portal slides open wide
my bare feet stepping into the light
right away, I could tell, something wasn't right

Fore there I am, bliss fleeting from my face
one foot out the door, squishing neath my toes
the squirrels left me a present, wafting

too my nose
Nasty little f*#kers, it was like "Welcome to the neighborhood, Sucker!"
And no, I didn't actually step in it, but! It was close! ;D
Salmabanu Hatim Dec 2017
Both are similar,
Both have content matter,
Both save hassles,
One in communicating,
The other from washing,
Both have to be checked often,
What is going to happen,
One to see what is up,
The other to check what is the pile up.
What are they, "Sirs."
They are Whats app and pampers.
Both what's app and diaper have something in common.They need to be checked often.
Temporal Fugue Dec 2017
I need time, time
too, relieve my behind
and I need some TP
to wipe me clean

My mamma said, "you can't hurry poo"
No, you'll just have too wait
trust in your bowels
no matter, how long it takes

Now break!

How many times, must they knock
before they let me be, droppin these rocks
Right now the only thing that keeps me hanging on
stressing and straining, until their gone

My mamma said, "you can't hurry poo"
No, you'll just have too wait
trust in your bowels
no matter, how long it takes
To the tune of "Can't hurry love"
Yes, I do bastardize songs :D
zebra Nov 2017
two ladies
dressed to kill
give me a shiver
give me a thrill

they kiss each other
their mouths pink and bright
tender and cruel
a kiss then a bite

breasts brush soft
vulva's get wet
hands grope panties
drools like a pet

nipples explode
spasms and creams
hands touching thighs
sizzling dreams

oh they love
all candy and cum
shadowed eyes
lips like rum

ones a slave
the other her queen
then they switch
kiss and scream

its hotter then hot
a burning cunt sun
melting butter slits
a tempest of fun

doing the rumba
pretty dance feet
swaying hips
gawd its sweet

lovely behinds
moving in place
what i want always
is booty mouth face
Temporal Fugue Oct 2017
I took it to the Psychic
she told me, it, knew all
I took it to the Psychic
she lives, just down, the hall
She examined and she prodded
under a ventilated hood
She prodded and poked away
and told me, it was good
She told me I was destined
the greatest poet, I will be
She told me I was destined
then she flung my poo, at me
Ewwww, just wandering ;D
Poetic T Sep 2017
Well what can I say, he says I'm an arse,
I just told him he was just full of air..
But we were the closest of friends and were
always found close together like pees in a pod.

"So what's the plan for today windy,
"We just going to gas? or we just breathing in silence?

"I thought you were pulling the other cheek,
But all that comes out of you is crap Hahaha.....

They were always getting each other in trouble with
one thing or another, if it wasn't butt holding wind in,
it was fart whispering in a lift. But not so silently,
more like a  tiny trumpet going off for moments at a time.

There was one time were Fart was letting off as usual,
but he let just a little too much out, and in that moment
he told Butt.

"That was close, I was one fart away from a poo,

Butt couldn't  contain himself and amusement turned
to horror as laughter had loosened both there grips.
And now Mr Poo who usually went diving in
the porcelain pools was now frequenting  upon both.

I think I'm going to be sick said arse, Fart laughted and
then another friend of Poo's joined the party, cleanliness
was obsolete, now as it was like a food fight in close quarters.
Poo slipped out to freedom down the trouser leg and "SPLAT,

Butt and Fart, stunned by poo's lack of grace. "Could have
stayed for a while,
But Fart conceded that he would have
just talked crap, like he did every time he popped out
to see his friends.

Well what could be said, a wet wipe, and Butt forgot poo
had even been there. But his odour still lingered gently on.
Fart was gassing on and butt clenched so not to
expel to much laughter.. especially in enclosed areas.
Fart was just gassing, this duo were always going
be the closest of friends.
Nateive Son Jul 2017
Waking up with an achy spine,
But hard again,
No woman,
Am I past my prime?
I am,
Not old enough yet,
Not even nearly to the age of,
I can think of all the flies born today,
That will be dead by midnight,
And smile.
Please email me your best photos of county fairs:

The email you should send it to is

Winner gets a bottle of mustard from the Nazi occupation of France. VERY RARE!

Potter Oct 2015
Then it must be strong and true
For love is all that matters
That is unless you need a poo.
thymos Sep 2015
i am compelled to write poetry
in much the same way
as i am compelled by my
bowel movements:
the process, experience, and results
are pretty much no different for me.
dw i'm only trying 2 b funny, tho maybe there's a trace of truth (i write shit) - shit humour
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