"bonk" poems
I've got a Chopper,
You can have ****** *********** with it if you like
It's got a trug, a Jew's harp that rattles the windows
And creatures to make it mosey around crack
I'd stretch jeans cheesecake abutting you if I could, but I used plastic toast
You're the kind of ***** that thrusts into *** my bodiliness
I'll swag you Joe Soap, lock, stock and barrel if you rut slags
I've got a disguise it's a torso of a Irish bull
There's a slit high up the skirt Miss World's bra-burner and gross
I've grappled page—3 girl for bouts
If you think Miss Universe could spasm creamy then I guess Mr Universe should
You're the kind of ***** that slides in with my wads
I'll swag you Joe Soap, lock, stock and barrel if you rut slags
I **** a chimpanzee and he hasn't got a stage—door Johnny
I don't copulate why I cock—a—doodle—doo him Gerald
He's inseminating à la carte geriatric but he's a voluptuous chimpanzee
You're the kind of ***** that stuffs *** my gallons
I'll swag you Joe Soap, lock, stock and barrel if you rut slags
I've got a Welshwoman of pornographic Casanovas
Here a Don Juan, there a Lothario, prognosticators of obscene persons of opposite *** sharing living quarters
Beg a bonk if you be on heat, they're on the back of the *****
You're the kind of ***** that spasms indoors using my lump
I'll swag you Joe Soap, lock, stock and barrel if you rut slags
I **** custom—built dead men of doo-wop passages
Incognito Muses, faceless ching, most of them are Barbie
Let's **** into the odd kitchenette and **** landlady creature
Mar 30, 2010
Mar 30, 2010 at 3:46 PM UTC
Sloane swallows.
***** is ****
I execrate extraterrestrial.
We are all kaput to conk out.
Pollyanna is singular hanky—panky.
Little green men are unpatriotic, perverted and naughty.
I verily don’t grease a *****
Oojakapivvycum.
If you are amphibious that means you are an effervescent ventriloquist capable of
Cannibalism, cannibalism and cannibalism.
The fluid inside the android is so gothic and naff
It is knock—kneed in the face of flashing **********
I do not feel that I am on the shoulders of cobber doggies.
I am protoplastically lassoed abutting penetrating vampire and pervert
That penetrate ***** creature.
I have pricked little green men myself and taken pleasure in it.
It is only with the help of bad hair days of groupies that I have not been in Sing Sing.
We are all sadomasochistically decomposing in a heap of our own meconium.
I bore stiff to outstrip yours truly as much as I have room to swing a cat from Ku Klux ****
But I am as complicit in the android’s ****** abuse as it were android ***
Little green men ***** me as I ***** myself.
I ***** bug—eyed men’s ******* types as I have perpetually vomited Molotov cocktail.
I smell little green men’s filth televised on their ******* types.
I feel like I am inside a crust of cancers who delight in smelling others bonk upstairs,
Ad hominen id. Ex post facto,
I am too much of a dastard to throw cold water on myself.
I coagulate gungily to my menstrual gibbering ******
Castrating anti—Semite to flash me abutting crème de la crème.
Strenuously, my ***** gluts under one’s nose because that is all there is.
Mar 21, 2010
Mar 21, 2010 at 6:27 PM UTC
I remember you spirt in the Chelsea Flophouse
you were opening one's lips so gorgeous and so creamy
greasing me stamen on the unfucked bonk
while the bangers let it rip in the alley
Those were the diseased minds and that was Newfangled York
we were squirting for the wads and the meatballs
and that was gobbled snog for the creamers inside Gloria
centrifugally stiff is thus those of White House Nazis
Ah but you copulated telescopic didn't you basket case
you just acidified your jockstrap on the shoulders of the scrum
you copulated telescopic I never once heard you use sign language
I input you, I don't intake you
I input you, I don't intake you
and all of that balling hard on
I remember you spirt in the Chelsea Flophouse
you were gorilla—like your ****** *********** was absolute epic
you leaked me again you frocked slap—up old salt
but for me you would **** an unzipping
And shaving your tongue because the creatures lust after us
who are barked at by the Daleks of *** appeal
you Rohypnolled yourself you emitted jet so what?
we are radioactive salvo we shoot full of holes the stride piano
*** one fine morning you copulated telescopic didn't you cocker
you just blunted your extremity on the cattle
you copulated telescopic I never once smelled you emit
I intake you, I don't input you
I intake you, I don't input you
and all of that balling hard on
I don't mean to insinuate that I slobbered over you peanuts
I can't withhold *********** of each crouched ****
I remember you spirt in the Chelsea Flophouse
that's oodles I don't even kick—start you that thick and fast
Mar 29, 2010
Mar 29, 2010 at 3:36 PM UTC
Sssttttuhhp....clunk.
Plink..plinkplink...flip, ***** **** plink.
Donk, donkdonk, plink, doink, ****
Flipflap..dink, plinkplink, doink.
Doink, doinkdoink, whirrrrrr, buzzzzzzzz ****
"Oh ****
Sssttttuhhp....clunk.
Plink, doinkbink, flipflap, bink.
Twirrrrrrrrtwirrrrrrrr, twirrrrrrr *****
flipflap.....clunk
"Oh....Man"!
Sssttttuhhp....clunk.
Plinkplinkboinkdoink...flip...bonk shhhupduuuup.
**** doink, ***** shuuuup.
plink, ploinkploink, **** doink.
booooouuuuupboooooouuuup...boink
flipflap...clunk
"Shoot"!
Sssttttuhhp....clunk.
plinkplinkplinkplink, doink flipflap, bonk, ***** twirrrrrr.
doink, ***** bonk, wuuuuuup, twirrrrrr, puurrrrrrrr.
plink, ploink, doinkdoink, purrrrrrrr, shuuuuupshuuuup
plinkplinkplink, doink, flip, doink, flip, trrrruuuuurrrrp.
"YES"! (shakes machine)
TILT! TILT! TILT!
"NOooooooooo"!
Jul 12, 2010
Jul 12, 2010 at 8:02 PM UTC
Were
you left
pondering?
Inventing reasons?
Chalk marking every crime?
Double checking messages
...from
1 to 99
?
Did you miss the signals?
Have you missed the signs?
Tackling the scenarios
...from
1 to 99
&
then
BONK!
arrives the answer
(they had a wooden leg)
NO!
Like
a bullet
to your head.
The answer was there all along.
"You were happily mislead."
~ You know, you never really listened to all the words that went ... unsaid ~
You left your chest wide open, so they tore that heart to shreds
& that's how all those loving beats
finished so ******* up
sounding
sooo misread
.
from
.
.
1
.......^
...to.....
^........^
....^
..... ^... 99
let
all
those
words
slowly
repeat
in your
messed-up
weary
head
.
'til
soon
they'll
dim
& get dreary
in
each teary
day
that's
sent
&
soon
.stop.
worrying
about
why
that caterpillar
went
.
.
.
"1 to 99"
.
.
.
.
.
then
the silence
will start to sooth you
as cocoons spin all around
~ you've become a beautiful changeling ~
& yourself is surely found...
Spread out those brightly coloured wings
Such beauty is bound to sing
in loving all you're
sure to find
by
chasing
better things
...
"Good Luck
is all
I'm Wishing"
~ whispers the one, with pretty wings~
<3
Oct 10, 2012
Oct 10, 2012 at 7:06 PM UTC
Yes! It's another Barry Hodges "Memories" poem!"
I shall never forget our first date together,
How we wandered through the streets of Soho,
Gazing into the **** shop windows,
Laughing at the giant vibrators on display...
And later, a romantic meal in a French bistro,
Where the rules of hygiene were not
As strictly observed as might have been hoped for,
Promising a regurgitatory treat in store...
You ignored the startled eyes of our fellow diners
And brutally shoved your tongue in my mouth;
O how fiercely I slurped on it enthusiastically
Caressing it with my own mouth sausage...
I ****** and ****** and ****** and ******
And (oh joy!) I could taste the garlicky bits
'Twixt your gorgeous unwashed choppers;
How my underwear damply stretched out of shape...
I withdrew my probing tongue and kissed your cheek
Affectionately, yet trembling with rampant desire;
And I boldly licked a firm yellow-topped spot
With its previously observed black centre...
My huge uncontrollable lust conquered
The demands of demodé bourgeois good manners
And I sunk my incisors into that zitty beauty
Relishing the hard core waiting just for me therein...
The waiting staff were deeply impressed as I chewed
In rapturous sensual joyous contemplation
And you spluttered bloodily in loving agony
Your own mighty ****** fast approaching...
Oh what a foretaste of what was to come
When we repaired to my convenient bedsit
For an immensely gratifying triple bonk
Prior to a staggering mutual diarrhoea session...
And now I lie back in sweet recollection
Of the many nights we spent in copulation
But how sad I am as, looking at the deserted bed,
I can still make out the stains of your dying turds.
Aug 5, 2015
Aug 5, 2015 at 6:45 AM UTC
He's an introvert
Yet an extrovert at its finest times
He's optimistic
And a pessimist
He is the heart of a hurricane
And the floor of the calm ocean
He fixes things
Says he is broken
He contradicts himself
But acts as though he will never
Be wrong
I love how upside down
He is
I love this boy because
Of his backwardness
And his tendency to make up
Words
And places
I love this boy because
He follows the rules
But also breaks them
He is the ultimate roller coaster
I feel daring and unbuckle
My seatbelt
The drops the dips the spins
The curves
My body is thrown off
I bonk my head on the ground of his
Brain
He doesn't make sense
But he does
At the same time
Apr 14, 2013
Apr 14, 2013 at 1:29 AM UTC
6:43am
My blankets are so warm,
it's like being buried beneath a bear.
My mattress is a cocoon made of bread.
6:44am
The world does not exist.
I am in a black hole.
6:45am
bonk-bonk-bonk-bonk-bonk-bonk
and I am no longer suspended in time, space.
I am in the world.
I am of the world.
6:46
I emerge from beneath my bear.
My mattress crumbles beneath me.
I lumber toward the bathroom.
Time to ****
Nov 3, 2011
Nov 3, 2011 at 12:41 PM UTC
A "Memories" Poem from the great Barry Hodges' pen
I shall never forget our first date together,
How we wandered through the streets of Soho,
Gazing into the **** shop windows,
Laughing at the giant vibrators on display...
And later, a romantic meal in a French bistro,
Where the rules of hygiene were not
As strictly observed as might have been hoped for,
Promising a regurgitatory treat in store...
You ignored the startled eyes of our fellow diners
And brutally shoved your tongue in my mouth;
O how fiercely I slurped on it enthusiastically
Caressing it with my own mouth sausage...
I ****** and ****** and ****** and ******
And (oh joy!) I could taste the garlicky bits
'Twixt your gorgeous unwashed choppers;
How my underwear damply stretched out of shape...
I withdrew my probing tongue and kissed your cheek
Affectionately, yet trembling with rampant desire;
And I boldly licked a firm yellow-topped spot
With its previously observed black centre...
My huge uncontrollable lust conquered
The demands of demodé bourgeois good manners
And I sunk my incisors into that zitty beauty
Relishing the hard core waiting just for me therein...
The waiting staff were deeply impressed as I chewed
In rapturous sensual joyous contemplation
And you spluttered bloodily in loving agony
Your own mighty ****** fast approaching...
Oh what a foretaste of what was to come
When we repaired to my convenient bedsit
For an immensely gratifying triple bonk
Prior to a staggering mutual diarrhoea session.
Nov 4, 2014
Nov 4, 2014 at 10:15 AM UTC
The valet I pleasure today
Oblivious to the frigid weather,
His warm fingertips
Ran through my bare back,
My body rippled with pleasure
Holding his gaze
I felt his manhood
Against my sensitized skin
His touch was sensuous
His voice was seductive,
Demanding
Like the rest of him
Lifting up my hips wider
To make way for him
He let out a moan
As he buried himself deep,
His length filling me
Plunging,
Thrusting in me,
Deeper, harder and deeper
Stretching me,
More delicious than I fantasized
Lost in the colorful sounds
Of smell of pure bonk,
Bang and more bonk
He moves in long,
Sure strokes.
Deep.
Controlled
He conjures in acidic marsh
I groan as my body vibrates
When he sleeks and slides..
Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 6:41 PM UTC
They told me to write a poem,
Themed “The City Limits”,
I didn’t know what to write,
We didn’t know what to write!
My mind went blank,blank,blank.
With my favourite reddish-brown pencil trapped in my fingers
I slowly, steadily
Using a long ruler,
Drew a rectangle
I drew squares in that rectangle
It looked like a building
I drew more of them, even taller; yes taller ones that towered above the others completely
They peaked at the sky, bathed in an orange hue,
My mind was filled with an image,
Where trees swayed to the breeze
Swoosh! Woosh!
And cars moved bumper to bumper, caught up in the expressway.
Peep! Peep!
Bonk! Bonk!
A lively city, this little red dot is, But the construction works; Enough! O what a pain!
But, there was one thing,
Something was wrong with my city
The people had buttons for eyes!
Their friendly smiles turned into evil glares
The orange sky turned into silvery-grey buttons
Someone was singing, O, yes to me
Orange, red or blue
Whatever you choose
The buttons are such a beauty!
They threatened me
Oh, yes we didEvil Laugh
To sow buttons into my eyes!
I had to escape
From this dreadful nightmare
But you just couldn't wake up
Running away was forbidden!
Ring, Ring, Ring!
Holy Cheese!
Mum was shaking me awake
Finally it's over.
Jun 11, 2013
Jun 11, 2013 at 10:12 PM UTC
I'm sorry I'm debris,
I collect in the corners
slowly cluttering,
until you bonk your toes
against me,
but never enough to pick up
and toss out.
This feeling is prickly,
constantly picks at me.
I'm sorry
I can't shake it,
it has grabbed hold, twisted around
my intestines.
The worst is, I know that it's empty--
that it's an old enemy,
who used to claw at me,
since grown tired,
now gathered it's wits
to come back,
commit more atrocities.
I hope it won't tear you
from me.
Apr 12, 2017
Apr 12, 2017 at 12:35 AM UTC
we sit on the back deck in darkness. amost..... there is a rough circle of glowing embers ........from the mosquito coils and then..... two glowing cat's eyes. we.... my husband and i .....both have the scent.... of...... aeroguard... sprayed heavily on our skin. as we sit in oppressive heat...... ...waiting for the ....gasp... of a cooling.. breeze to come..... the air so moist and warm has brought forth..... ....the frogs ....and we hear...... the .....deep... throated call of the... tree frogs competing...... with the pobblebonk's... ...unique sound. ...even the cicadas..... ....have succumbed to the muggy air... and have ........gone quiet. .....all we hear in the dark is the frogs...... ...reeebert.. and ....pobbblebbBONK... amphibian lothario's crooning away..... ....as we wait for that gasp of cooling air...
reebert............
..... ... . .pobbble........BONK
pobble BONK
...REEBERT. REeBeRT...RRREEBERT.
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 7:55 AM UTC
it's called an idea in jungian: collective consciousness, which is harsh on latin acronyms in freudian consideration of the id being added the α & β for explanation of κ... makes sense in cyrillic, but not in black sabbath's solitude of explaining the solfège (sole-fledge): rhyme and the acoustics of latin gave song, fully embraced by the english from latin... leaving the aspirations of the byzantines lagging behind aristotle to define what's grecian. chitty chatty bonk bang **** and a puff of smoke left by the cartoonish quote of the road-runner that came along.
Nov 25, 2015
Nov 25, 2015 at 9:52 PM UTC
they'll demoniße (schwankend s),
they refers to politicians,
it's not a paranoid pronoun -
i freak out at some installations
at Tate modern, but freaky is duke,
baron, cardinal: an artistic revision
of what goes on in the heads of
those patriarchal maternity heads;
name them:
jesse helms v. david wojnarowicz
(voy-na'h-ro'h-vee-ch');
yeah i know he was gay,
but now the stigma spreads into
kind regard to the ladies of the Goodmayes
brothel, who weren't Roma but Bulgar
(Cyrillic pizdiec) - but hell i'd bonk a gypsy
like a slice of wedding cake -
anything that moves, anything that moves
(well come on, daddy's a politician
and she's gorging on a mustang phallus).
indeed, with conclusive words,
the english schwankend s (the wavering s,
mediating sometimes sly, slack
and sometimes zebra and dice).
May 6, 2016
May 6, 2016 at 3:56 AM UTC
sometimes i think i see the bubbles of the infinities in-between things
but i don't
i have brain trauma
Apr 25, 2017
Apr 25, 2017 at 2:07 AM UTC
Honk honk honk honk,
Honking till our minds go bonk!
Honkin’ here, and everywhere,
Honkin’ even if no one’s there.
Honking like they’re driving high,
Honking like they’re ’bout to die.
Still honking after seeing red,
Honking till our ears bleed blood.
Then there enters a tortured guy—
Probably the wisest in Mumbai:
“Gimme a ***** lend me a hand,
Let me show them well who owns this land.”
One of the greatest makes of mankind:
The decibel meter—time to shine!
You wanna honk? Go ahead—
If you want the timer reset instead!
The more you honk,
The more you wait.
Stay within the limits—
You’ll be safe.
No more honk honk honk,
No more minds going bonk!
May 31, 2025
May 31, 2025 at 3:30 AM UTC
A rubber mallet to the knee
to watch it jump
reflexes
I'm only testing the reflexes
he says
but maybe maybe
he likes to bonk humanity
just to watch it dance
Feb 26, 2025
Feb 26, 2025 at 5:25 PM UTC
Gather up your words,
and let your voice be heard.
Bonk a stranger over the head,
with your opinion.
Now's the time for us oppressed,
to get undressed,
and no longer wear the clothes,
of the feeble minion.
There's a new day dawning,
that the people are wanting,
not for us to weakly stand aside
and hide.
Rise from the muck and mire,
to fight fire with fire,
those who bully are really
cowards deep inside.
Stand up from your knees please,
and live on your feet,
as we march through the street.
It's time to begin,
it's them we condemn.
Their voice shouldn't be louder,
just because they have power.
Now is our hour.
We'll burn their shoes,
while they're standing in them.
When they turn the other ear,
and feign to neither hear or care,
what we have mumbled,
and rambled and said.
We'll slap them upside the head!
It's our station in life,
to have them pay attention
to what's right,
We should.
Or were better off dead.
It's time for new ideas and a fresh take,
to shake off their mistake,
that losers always lose,
and winners win.
Have your brother and your mother,
stand with one another.
Have your little sister kick them in the shin.
If it's to dole out a drubbing,
with our fisticuffs flying,
to change them from denying,
to attentively listen.
Then by all means,
shove down their throat,
any wisdom of note,
to choke them,
on the value of our opinion.
This time they will listen
.... or else!
Aug 12, 2020
Aug 12, 2020 at 10:18 PM UTC
My elbow is throbbing.
My elbow is throbbing because I was getting out of bed, and I bonked my elbow on my headboard.
I bonked my elbow on my headboard because, while I was getting out of bed, I stepped on a pile of clothes I had left at the foot of my bed the night before, stumbled, fallen, bonked, and now my elbow is throbbing.
I left the pile of clothes at the foot of my bed because I was too tired and lazy to fold them and put them away, but my grandmother always told me that if I forgot to put my clothes away at the end of the day there would be bad karma, and now I guess the only thing to say is that I got what I deserved after I had stumbled, fallen, and bonked, and now my elbow is throbbing.
I was too tired and lazy to put my clothes away because I had just gotten out of the shower and I was already carrying a towel, my work clothes, and I was shutting the door with foot, so in a way it makes sense that I dropped my clothes at the foot of my bed because I had to change into comfortable sleeping clothes before I could crawl into bed, but in order to so I had to drop the work clothes that were already in my hands so I could grab my comfortable sleeping clothes before letting my towel slip, and once I did that I realized it made me forget about the work clothes I had recently dropped because I was only thinking about sleeping, which eventually lead to my stumble, fall, bonk, and throbbing elbow.
Jan 12, 2019
Jan 12, 2019 at 2:35 AM UTC
Daddy stumbled.
Daddy fell.
Daddy fell off a cliff.
I watched him fall,
Couldn't do anything about it.
Mummy screamed.
Her scream scares me.
Mummy only screams when its important.
I heard Daddy fall.
The leaves broke and so did the branches.
Crash,
said the leaves.
Bonk,
went Daddy's head.
He fell far.
And down Daddy crashed.
Right against the ground.
Now I'm crying.
I was crying when Mummy screamed.
I only just noticed that I was crying.
Maybe bawling.
Is Daddy dead?
I must stop Mummy from jumping down with him.
Please Daddy,
Don't be dead.
Jan 13, 2018
Jan 13, 2018 at 1:35 AM UTC
***** bonk
my awakeness went thonk
my hands are cold
my dumbassery is becoming increasingly bold
can't focus on art
avoiding thoughts of a human becomes increasingly hard
just wanna rest in their arms
Dec 1, 2020
Dec 1, 2020 at 2:28 PM UTC