#mr
One person we should all be thankful for,
We use his invention everyday,
Most people never heard of him.
Around 1596 John Harrington,
Invented the first flushable toilet,
He never imagined his invention,
Would still be in use today.
Mister Crapper was a plumber,
Who installed toilets,
His name is more related to the invention,
Why, it's easier to say,
I have to crap,
Try saying, I have to Harrington,
When your squeezing your cheeks,
Running to the Restroom,
Now you know the rest of the story.
The original Tom maxwell / poems 02/03/22 AD
Philosopher
2d ago
Jun 1, 2026 at 2:22 AM UTC
Buzz.. buzz..
Mr. Fly, why do you follow me?
Can’t entertain you, I’m busy bee
Tonight has not been easy
Medication and other things - it’s hazy
Can’t you see? …need a moment of peace
Can’t let me be? …Need not I be at ease?
Buzz.. buzzz…
Mr. Fly, hush
Buzz.. buzz
Buzz… buzz..
Despair beyond repair
Cloudy smokes- vanishing clarity!
grasping! All for sanity
Life is winter bare
It’s about to be over, don’t follow
Buzz… buzz…
Take your cover, this grenade about to blow
Buzz.. buzz…
Locking myself in a dark closet
Ready to unplug
A frustration to annoying little bug
All the buzz..
Prepare! Obstacles mid-air
The clanking and clattering
~silence~
Tearing my ears so I may not hear
All the woes and the cries of my dear
I beg to leave for peace
I yearn freedom
Then head to an unattainable kingdom
Buzz.. buzz…
Bother me not anymore
Banging unto wall
Fading beauty, tiny doll
Dec 17, 2025
Dec 17, 2025 at 9:34 PM UTC
the early riser guider, pastel orb of high color value,
looks askance at the two men watching it,
for fresh and clean, it, the sun, from
the horizon born and bathed and toweled blue terry sky dry
the men, well they stinkin'
from body sweat hikin' and grease and drinkin'
Mr. Coffee and cheap *****
an expensive high, when next day payback comes due
but none better for inspire to hire and
merging men's alternative verses writ in alternating styles,
trading stanzas under a lighting-felled inspiration tree,
waiting for that insightful light that comes too brief
how can it be each thinks, that tho never in the flesh met,
thank to Mr. Coffee and cheap *****
the bond just gets stronger every day way,
the poetry better with each sippin',
as many rivers confluent on their way home
to the slightly jealous observing Pacific sea,
the original mother lode of all creation,
well, She says:
*"boys,
good job and good luck remembering anything
and getting home safe and sound!"*
to which we drink a toast of Mr. Coffee and cheap *****
and it ocurs to one, perhaps both,
this is kinda a love poem after all
May 14, 2017
May 14, 2017 at 11:15 AM UTC
that fog horn blows,
worries my mind, lord knows, we don’t need,
more obstacles in this tired world, so the horn
trying, to be blowing fog away, without success
the sound’s remainder air-lingers like foam bubbles
ridden down to coffee cup bottom, resisting, protesting,
refusing to expire, useless/nonetheless, says no dying
sole boat outlined, bout mile out, must be anchored, it’s
unmoved by fog danger or noise, fishing is my informed
best guess, but fish ain’t stoopid, swimming another way
the fog horn wakes the woman who looks askance
cause there is neither coffee or a newly christened
poem upon her nightstand, an explanation is sought
“stand by me,” I sing, “be unafraid my darling, stand now,
stand by me,” poet said “been guarding our bed, this long
foggy night, agin interlopers, bad dreams and sea troubles”
shied ‘em away, knowing that when a man loves a woman,
she can lean on him, cause he’s load bearing, her safety is
always first, poem second, coffee coming, with sun rising
she bemused, funny you’re, kooky like the poems you’ve up-
written all night, up all life long, all stored up in my nightstand,
you’re sweet, like Tennessee whiskey, ignore my scowling my own
poet-mr. coffeeman-sea guardian, you’re alright with me*
Jun 12, 2020
Jun 12, 2020 at 9:50 AM UTC
that i liked the song your
boyfriend made.
i don’t. its bad. it doesnt mean
he is bad, just the song is bad.
all the alcohol i “drank” and
all the times i got ****** up”
or “smashed” in between
the ages of zero and nineteen.
lies. all i knew was the sadness
of others, my neighbours magnum opus.
why would i ever touch a brush for
myself when i could remake something
we all agree is beautiful.
when you once told me that
if two people stand at opposite sides
of the room and close their eyes,
if they keep walking forward
they’ll kiss. and when it didn’t
work the first time i guided you
into my lips and you smiled like
the sun was in us in that moment.
is that so wrong
Nov 18, 2019
Nov 18, 2019 at 4:24 AM UTC
Sometimes you come to take me
On your magic carpet ride
In the midst of all the darkness
The still silence in the middle of the night
I never thought until this day
That I'd be blinded by this light
That's your disguise, that's a cover
Get ready, hang on tight
There's never been an evil
Thats deceived me quite so well
Or that claimed the truth
When clearly flying into hell
I've heard it said a time or two
Demons look like light
Maybe that's why you always come
In the secret of the night
At first I thought it beauty
No truth I saw in the dark
But what goes up, must come down
And now I see you're mark.
Nov 4, 2019
Nov 4, 2019 at 1:10 AM UTC
Marble
Warrrbol
Marble
(warble)
marble-warble
WHARBALLLL
MHARBALLLL
warble
marble-marble...
Jul 27, 2019
Jul 27, 2019 at 11:55 AM UTC
How were these melodic notes made?
A thousand symphonies
from the sky upon him laid?
Mr. Tree and petite Ms Tree met with a distant ancestry,
Although he sprouted from a Cherry pit,
She has been growing from an apple seed,
Together they play,
hiding and seeking with the wind,
Silly them when thinking about the humanity
while they both have plans to grow to be.
Petite Tree sits under Mr Cherry tree
They laugh and laugh, won't leave.
Mr. giving Tree
shares his cherries for free.
Petite Tree eased her hesitation smiles.
Please, please Mr. Tree with cherries,
Petite Tree would like to grow with you distance memories.
Jul 16, 2019
Jul 16, 2019 at 2:54 PM UTC
I long for your love
The way I long for the change
Of the seasons
Our thoughts reshape
For no apparent reasons
And the axioms we’ve had
Have disappeared
Over the span of time
Stop looking for the aesthetic
She’s beautiful the way she is
God didn’t make any mistakes
It’s apparent
Put your eyes through the looking glass
Look towards the intellect
Not what you see through the internet
I miss you in the summertime
I miss you all the time
Take the time to know me
You’ll see me bloom through the clouds
And find a better side of me
One I can share with thee
My sweet honey bee
Write to me your feelings
I’ll treasure them
The way Mr. Krabs
Treasures his very first penny
You mean that much to me
I want to be with you
Past our Amazon primes
Let me hold your hand at night
And let a myriad of calendars pass by
That’s a future
I would really like
But for now
Lay your head
And dream,
my love
Oct 17, 2018
Oct 17, 2018 at 11:59 PM UTC
It was dark,
I thought it was brighter back then.
Little did I know the mark,
of innocence he scribbled over in pen,
The sight of Mr. Man returns again.
The television light hit my face,
I had hoped it’d be the end,
but then my heart began to race,
with the thought of wounds I had to mend,
The sight of Mr. Man returns again.
Keep your lips shut, you can’t tell them,
What would they say? If they had known?
The first time I meet the feeling of being numb,
Isn’t this human? Isn’t it okay, don’t groan.
The sight of Mr. Man returns again.
The colours feel so drained,
What did he take away?
My mind is feeling strained,
Why do I feel like a prey?
The sight of Mr. Man returns again.
Jun 3, 2018
Jun 3, 2018 at 6:09 PM UTC
This is called
how to
go deep into sea
with harpoon
and spores of magic
mushrooms
for getting nothing
back home.
Yes, because we are
vegetarians
and the turtles
and jellyfishes
belongs each other
as my typo
and
i.
Feb 26, 2018
Feb 26, 2018 at 1:31 PM UTC
Mood: Miss Kittin & the Hacker-1000 dreams
Date: 2:09 a.m
At the end, he Smiles at me;
for a strange(r) reason
Mr.Slummber
was a
love
poe-m
with a happy
end.
Feb 15, 2018
Feb 15, 2018 at 3:16 AM UTC
**** sensibility
I need sensitivity
emotions
that pour
as black
as tar
from
the ashes
of our complexity.
Dec 10, 2017
Dec 10, 2017 at 9:20 PM UTC
Thank you Mr Trump ...
thank you Trump ...
to **** The peace process ...
to take of it's last breathes ...
and forever ...
this peace process ...
which we never need ...
as an Arabian nations ...
and the Islamic people ...
thank you ...
thank you Trump ...
to end this silly peace
which we never beg for
and we will never ask for ...
we just ask our nations ...
to get Palestine free ...
from the baddest occupier ...
the Jewish since so long years ...
thank you Mr Trump ...
to fire up the area ...
and to get us back ...
to our right direction ...
to hold again our weapons ...
to fight again the occupier...
as our great fighters before ...
until we get Palestine free ...
our holy land ...
our kudos...
as our Allah needs us to do ...
thank Mr president Trump ...
to crush this silly peace process...
which we really never beg for ...
we just only need to fight ...
need to get back ...
our Palestine free ...
thank you ...
thank you Trump ...
hazem al ...
Dec 7, 2017
Dec 7, 2017 at 7:56 AM UTC
My name is my submission to male dominance
I am somebody's daughter,
somebody's wife.
I willingly call myself so
It's because I love my father
I love my husband
And I am honoured to be called
In his name
Usually
But sometimes
When a ray of anger rushes into my heart
By the feminine idea of self-respect
I wonder
if my father loves me, why is his love trumping of my mother who bore me inside her body for months of restless ease?
if my husband loves me, why has he never consider calling himself Mr. Mine, where he my husband and I his wife?
But I tuck these thoughts away
They are too balancing of power, too simply different.
I mustn't let the patriarchy hear, or I will dishonour my worth
As a woman.
Jul 1, 2017
Jul 1, 2017 at 12:49 AM UTC
I am not Christian but I have deep reverence for the teachings of Christ and his love of humanity.
I am not Roman Catholic but I recognize the life-affirming power of community, communion, and ritual.
I am not a Moslem but I find beauty and usefulness in the teachings of Mohammed.
I am not Buddhist but I have seen the results of meditation, daily spiritual practice, and putting aside my own ego.
I am not Taoist but I have felt the peace of the way of simplicity and harmony with the Tao.
I am not ancient Egyptian but I know the power of the Sun in the heavens, and I honor the Holy Mother Isis whose name has been hijacked by terrorists and propaganda machines.
I am not Wiccan but I have danced with the natural cycles of the year and the moon; I have known the power of the Earth and my place within it.
I am not Jewish but I will not forget the lessons of suffering, wandering, Silence, and discipline they have taught the world.
Heathen. Pagan. Atheist. Heretic. Believer. Trickster. Demon. Saint.
Paradoxically, I am none of these things and All of these things.
I believe in a humanity that can transcend the enslaving dogma and intolerance of patriarchy and religions used against us, to see ourselves, our god(esse)s, and our highest noble values in the faces of each other and all the natural wonders of this universal dream.
Original Sin = the Original Lie.
I believe in the goodness and greatness of us all.
Won’t you be my neighbor? <3
Dec 11, 2016
Dec 11, 2016 at 9:54 PM UTC
Whinging is contagious around here,
I just never met Mr. Right, my dears,
But I have met some right players,
Like loverat Mr. Liar,
or Mr. ******* too bad,
Then there is Mr. *********
Yes, whinging is contagious here,
Too bad I never met Mr. Right, my dears,
Never mind, that's enough,
Being bullied toughens you up!
Dec 9, 2016
Dec 9, 2016 at 2:12 PM UTC
silly smiles
smelling pink nostrils
love’s longing lips
neither body cares
legs dance & red vintage lamps
hands make an okay
as they spin through the air
brazil, a lovely guitar sings
refined, it began
deliberate
then out slipped i love being with ya
now i’ve somerthing horrid to give ya
yeh hold this a sec
this slimy rat of an excuse
look its alive still
wriggling
wants a word wi u 2
alright then you’ve gotta take this bag
but it’d help if you hid it
na don’t worry
there’s nothin real in it
Dec 4, 2016
Dec 4, 2016 at 7:20 AM UTC
Mr. Celest, won't you please entrance with your stories full of dropping names that I bet no one else could recall, even if the plausible is true?
Long men have a long time to build upon the craft of yarn-spinning , promising the archway, but never daring to get in touch with powerful ways of listening to others.
This prince has a story, too.
The crime of our age is how people live so long that they stop living to fantasize about the old days which were never as glamoruos as we recall.
The only thing you talk about is what you used the think about, when you wished upon a shooting star that once trailed above the ocean blue.
This knave has a story, too.
An automatic pratter or the vocals in the air are not impressive to someone like me who has seen the sins and suffered wages of the ages.
The reason for your phonics is as empty as your wallet, but your name is never in the liner notes to the teary songs you try to sing.
This man has a story, too.
There is a beaker on the burner and it bubbles quite a lot, much like a festering boil, and the words that stream along are never ending.
You might learn there are surprises in the world still left to make you wonder, still there to give you feeling so you have enjoyment in your life.
This sage knows magic, too.
Sep 17, 2016
Sep 17, 2016 at 3:05 AM UTC
"There are no words to describe how I feel."
That is one of the most common phrases ever used.
But it is true and so is "I love you."
From the day I first talked to you I knew there was something.
The first time I video chatted with you I had a certain kind of feeling.
Something that I never felt before.
Everyone always says they know what love is but you never really know until you have met the one.
I fell for you the first time we talked.
I started falling in love at first video chat.
I fell in love with you before I knew what was going on.
You had my heart on an Un-breakable chain that was tied to yours.
The day I met you in person the butterflies could have carried me away.
I carried the biggest smile on my face with nerves hidden behind it.
My nerves where sky high. You where perfect. You were hot! You were smart. You were funny. You made me smile.
We were in love!
When you asked me to be your wife I started to cry. Happy tears. Our life together was just beginning.
We were in love and everyone knew it!
I wake up in the morning with a huge smile. The butterflies still lifting me up. You are perfect. You are hot smart kind and funny. You are laying next to me! I hold you close. I am never letting you go.
I love you.
Apr 23, 2016
Apr 23, 2016 at 2:56 AM UTC