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Svetoslav Feb 2021
walking near carobs
stench imprisons lilies scent
smoky grasses kiss
a classic 5/7/5 haiku poem

by Svetli
jdmaraccini Jul 2013
I smite her without a flicker of remorse.

Web caught trembling prey, blistering sadness in a shallow grave.
Repulsive, rotten ***** stench, locked box of putrid sorrow.
Blood clot hidden trench, vile secretion burrow.
Wolf dressed goblin ***** muttering incantations.
Teetering on a broken fence, seething hatred regurgitation.
Greedy, evil, spineless, *****, cunning, patient, *****.
One head desire, two face succubus,
speech craft forked tongue, slithering witch, foul gargoyle.
Rebuke venomous, castrate hung, stoke the funeral pyre.
Incubate the serpent fetus, demon, devil, liar.
Nevermore sinister toil, bone-covered soil.
Death to the succubus,
death to Venus.
JDMaraccini
2013
Guden Nov 2019
A tiny breeze
Cleans the stagnant air
Around my bedroom.
I thank the gods
Nobody comes closer to me,
So they cannot smell
The stench of *****,
Unwashed masses of hair.
A breeze that brings
The smell of tear gas,
I sense the protesters
Didn’t want to leave.
Now the smell
Of live death
Fades away
Mixed with scents
Of freedom and dignity.
I wish I was there
I used to be clean,
I used to move around,
When routines kept me going
Instead of being petrified
By the following day;
I used to be useful
Or so I’ve heard.
Mark Toney Nov 2019
When I was growing up in Wisconsin, dairy farms were everywhere.  It was always fun visiting my aunt and uncle's dairy farm, even though they put me to work.  For many years the only bathroom they had was away from the house!  I read an article today about people complaining about smells coming from dairy farms and pig farms.  It reminded me when our family would drive the 3 1/2 hours to visit Grandma and Grandpa.  Some farms hardly had any bad odor, but others reeked!  This was especially horrible to us city kids.  "Mom, what's that smell?" my sisters and I would ask every time.  We asked Mom because she'd answer us.  Dad would only laugh.  Good times!  

Midwest dairy farms
intermittent putrid stench-
fun childhood road trips
10/28/2019 - Poetry form: Haibun - Copyright © Mark Toney | Year Posted 2018
Anya Sep 2018
The acrid, rather salty aroma surrounds
me, cloud of it invading my nostrils and tongue as the salty
liquid drips past my parched, cracked, lightly parted
lips as my throat is made hoarse by screaming
with all my might as we score the winning
Goal
Haruharu Nov 2017
I am afraid.

My inner demons are taking control like never before.

I feel how the darkness makes me rot from inside.

The stench from my walking corpse.

I am so afraid.

I feel how they're winning the last battle.

The person I was is dying, beyond saving.

There's no turning back, I'm a living dead.
George Krokos Oct 2017
There once did live an unfortunate soul
who from childhood had been diagnosed
with a very rare unknown medical condition
that also defined its own awkward position.
And as it went, it just didn’t know when to stop
until one day it received an unexpected notice
informing it that its time now was almost up
just moments before its heart bled into a cup.
Then instead of normal blood there was seen
that which looked like the colour of diarrhoea
and the stench resembled that of its breath
last exhaled from its gaping mouth at death.
__________
Written in 2015. Inspired by all those who talk crap and with hate and try to put other people down.
Chloe Chapman Mar 2017
Blood drips,
            oozes,
                      In lurid globes
Down the shadowed folds of heavy velvet.
            cloying stench,
                      shattered china.

Your spine is twisted under stretched yellow skin,
Disjointed vertebrae break through, glinting white.
Your lost words heavy on your tongue,
Ringing in my ears.
Every villain believes
   they are a hero dear.
         even me.
Not a huge fan of this one if I'm honest. Thought I would post it anyway.
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