"crapped" poems
T'was the night before Christmas
The gifts were all wrapped
When the smell, well...it hit me
Our new puppy had crapped
I knew I could smell it
It was not just a ****
The puppy had dropped one
I awoke with a start
I could hear a slight rustle
As he went to his bed
But, the smell made me nauseous
And it turned my eyes red
I could hear a slight jingle
From the dog tags he wore
It was then that I found it
In the hall, by the door
I had not put on slippers
I had not hit the light
I just hope I could see it
Try as I might
But, as puppy bombs go
this was one for the ages
It had started out loose
And had grown in three stages
My foot found it first
And before I could halt
It was between my toes
And it wasn't his fault
If I'd turned on the light
I'd have seen it, no sweat
But, now, I was hopping
With a foot, brown and wet
I was off to the bathroom
Hopping mad, so to speak
when from out of my bedroom
I heard "What's that reek?"
It was worse than it started
Now, I'd helped it along
It was me, now in trouble
And somehow, that was wrong
Down in the kitchen
I could hear the dog snore
While, I was still hopping
On one foot by the door
My wife, said "go shower"
And clean up the rug
I hopped to the bathroom
And sat down, with a shrug
It was the night before Christmas
I should be out like a log
But, this is my life
Because I own a dog....
Dec 22, 2015
Dec 22, 2015 at 11:53 PM UTC
Pretty brown **** smeared on the floor
Birthed an enigma of the unknown,
Crapped a lot of questions to go unanswered
Leaving me found dumb with no culprit in sight
But he left me his smell.
Oh and it smelled profusely
When the dog came in and with one lick
Wiped it up, his eyes full of ***** flavor
And I, repulsed, upchucked my meal,
Sat back and watched him eat that with pleasure too.
Sep 25, 2012
Sep 25, 2012 at 7:00 PM UTC
I can't stop to chat
Sorry, I'm really busy
There's so much to do
I'm getting quite dizzy
Wallpapering, painting
And a whole lot of chores
Along with scrubbing and replacing
Handles on doors
Carpentry's enjoyable
A skill that I relish
But it tires me out
So for a break, I'll wish
Got a five minute break
Rush a quick cigarette
And a well-earned coffee
Then back off to work I set
Packing my boxes
And many a bag
Put them all in the attic
So tired, it's a drag
Hoovering all day
Kitchen needs cleaning
For the fourth time today
Then the garden needs preening
Make something to eat
To recharge energy
Sit down for a moment
With another coffee
Then it's time to go shopping
For food, drinks and more
Come back to yelling
As I walk through the door
"Mel, help me out!"
"Mel, pass me that!"
"Mel, clean the carpet...
The pup crapped on that!"
"Mel, make a coffee!"
"A sandwich might help!"
"Then get back to work!"
I can't help but yelp
Back to more painting
And scrubbing the halls
Cleaning the windows
And papering more walls
Then rest for a while
With a lovely big meal
To end the working day
And help muscles to heal
I'm aching all over
And I can't seem to sleep
So restless and sore
The job-pile's too steep
Toss and turn all night
I'm going insane
But I have to get up in the morning
And do it all again
Apr 6, 2013
Apr 6, 2013 at 8:28 AM UTC
Adolf ****** was really quite a chap
He made those Froggies eat a lot of crap;
And he made all those Norwegians
Look like a load of paraplegians.
He marched into Poland with his troops
Into their pants those Poles did poops.
He made short work of the poor old Greeks:
And in their pants they did big keeks.
Killing the Jews was oh so bad and cruel:
Burning them up for harsh winter fuel.
But invading Russia was a bad place to go
And the Nazis froze in the cold and snow.
The Yanks were frightened to join in the war:
They were **** scared of what they saw;
(they only got involved when the Japanese
brought the Pearl Harbour fleet to its knees).
Only the Brits stood resolute and brave
For Churchill was an inspiring knave;
He fought Adolf on the shores and beaches
And the Germans crapped their leder-britches.
So what is the lesson of these facts from history?
Not ****** much - what a ******* mystery.
Sep 2, 2015
Sep 2, 2015 at 1:42 PM UTC
A famous "Barry Hodges" poem!
I was strolling along the Normandy beaches
In the close vicinity of Caen one day
With a very tasty piece of arm-candy to hand
When I found a bleached human femur on the beach.
Oh dear me, what thoughts this conjured up in my brain
As I imagined whose bone it might have been!
Perhaps some pathetic soldier boy landing in forty-four
Who got slotted by a gallant German gunner,
His eyes feasting on the sacrificial cannon fodder
So foolishly supplied for his target practice.
Then, as I grabbed my lady friend's juicy ****
Causing her to turn and sink her tongue into my earhole,
We sank onto the sands in order to sate our lusts,
(enflamed by a very delicious meal of moules marinières
and a bucket or two of well-chilled Muscadet sur Lie)
I thought, what the **** does it all matter?
This is now, and that was then, and this old world
Has become a much nicer place nowadays;
But how mistaken I was in that fond thought;
Oh what an idealist I am in a world of woe.
For, all of a sudden, a contingent of fat dwarfs appeared,
Totally naked apart from their luminous Uncle Sam hats
And the Stars and Stripes hanging from their arseholes;
How I marvelled at their disgusting shapes
(and how surprised was I to find their genitals
were of normal measurements and thus
rather intrusively large by comparison
with the rest of their miniature bodies).
O dear Lord and alleged Father of Mankind
Forgive their horrid ways verily and forsooth.
With a whoop, those demented military retards, [see note below]
The famous 118th battalion ****** Marine veterans,
A contingent of whom emerged from a portable toilet
(which must have been a bit of a tight squeeze),
Chopped my girl-friend up with their bayonets,
Whereupon I crapped myself in terror and pity,
Before retrieving the purse from the eviscerated corpse,
Realizing that her PIN number was still useable
Until 'les flics' discovered her unfortunate remains
After the shore ***** had partaken thereof.
Mar 10, 2015
Mar 10, 2015 at 8:08 AM UTC
I like the days, when I just sit
Staring vacantly at the ceiling
With a book of Bukowski upon my head
Serious Osmosis going on.
I go back, to days
Days when we would just steal a traffic cone
For the Hell of it –
When being young was just doing
What you could
Because you could.
I remember eating Nachos and apple crumble
At 2am.
Then watching a friend of mine
Eating icecream one night with a ladle
The next night screaming in the shower
Out of apparent ‘excitement’.
I remember when we would sit,
You and I,
Drinking and if the atmosphere wasn’t more
Frosty than the arctic wind
Then Dave the drunk added his two penceworth.
When I had to fight off Dave and his Bovverboy.
That was rather humerous
Particularly by the fact that you nearly crapped yourself
It was a good laugh
I wish there could have been more times like that
Ah well...
Unlike most great works of art, this has no theme
That holds it all together.
I guess, like most undiscovered artists
I just thought I’d write **** down
And see where it went.
Clearly, not very far.
Nov 11, 2011
Nov 11, 2011 at 3:07 PM UTC
she penned a note
in girly curling cursive,
blue on white lined paper,
taped it to his carrier, a cage
one size too small
"he bit me, crapped on my floor,
made thousand anxious scratches
on my door"
she didn't intend to report his heinous
crimes in rhyme, but she did; they were enough to get him the needle, ministered mercifully, of course
though cursive's now a dying art,
it's sufficient to sign another death
decree--for slaughter, we know,
can be accomplished
with any font
Sep 28, 2016
Sep 28, 2016 at 11:08 PM UTC
Snow-day 1959
Monday, 6:00AM clock radio trips,
And WTRY Sounds off one of those top 40 hits.
I half hear the School Closings for Monday 12/12,
Sitting straight up in bed.....Was that Greenport Elementary do tell?
"Here are those school closings one more time kiddies"........
"Hudson HS Closed".... Oh Please God let me hear my city.
"Greenport Elementary...Closed" my Hands Raised Victorious..
I think I can hear Mrs Healy's entire 3rd grade class celebrating gloriously!
Just as I settle in for an uninterrupted, relaxing snow day in my room,
I hear my Mom yell, "young man come get this dust mop and broom"
"Oh snap"! "what shall I do with these dearest mother" I inquire
"Clean that pig sty you call a bedroom or your gonna feel some hellfire!"
Seeing that there we were only 10 days before Christmas
I decide Its to my advantage not to put up a fuss.
So clean I do.....pulling dust bunnies and underwear from beneath my bed
A miss matched sock and a couple bugs that were dead.
And to my surprise I find that fake dog **** I been looking for,
Time for a stealth mission to Mom's special bedroom behind that closed door.
Doing my best army crawl I make my way to Ma's special place
And put that rubbery dog **** on that bedspread made of lace.
"Hey Ma come quick the dog crapped on your lacy bedspread"!
I don't think Ma hit one step climbing those stairs she was seein' red!
And with a gasp she began to rub that dogs nose in the mess,
I'm like Mom it's just fake dog **** relax and don't stress"!
Jan 30, 2016
Jan 30, 2016 at 1:26 AM UTC
Moon on the horizon.
Soft breeze rattles the
brambles out by the
old barn.
The cat enters, looks
about and begins to
speak.
“Fears take flight after years
of drinking the tears away
while the days responsibilities
are laughable in the light of
satori's brilliant realization.
Silly, silly man, thinking reality
something to achieve, a destination
to discover, a journey to undertake.
Listen and I will tell you what little
I have learned burning away my
short time on this horizon of
understanding.
All that is transitory is a metaphor
for the eternal and all that is eternal
is a metaphor for the self.
The self is the collective consciousness
we all share and what we share is our
experience of being.
Being is nothing but an illusion created
in the mind of God while God is simply
a metaphor for eternity in the mind of
man.
Now pour me some kibble for I know
many things, but do not possess opposable
thumbs”.
I woke with a start, cursing the spinning
room and swearing never to mix Jameson
and Absolute again.
The cat finished her kibble and crapped
in the litter box.
Oct 3, 2010
Oct 3, 2010 at 12:52 AM UTC
I have just enough time on this earth to love you fully
If you let me love you now
There is an eternity beyond this moment
Where we can go our separate ways
But while my soul is still trapped inside this
Messed up mound of flesh
It would love it if you joined mine
Let’s be messed mounds together
We’ll look less like human beings and more like drying play dough
And when your skin is cracked and your marble begins to
Shatter and lose its sheen
I will polish you off until my hands no longer work
A lifetime isn’t long enough to make things better
But it’s all I got
So don’t keep me waiting
Because I will be there even when you turn into a child again
And those “oops I crapped my pants” commercials will no longer be funny
We can be children together
Helpless until we finally go our separate ways
But let me love you until then
You are more than second chances
And more than redemption
You are the mouth singing softly
The song of fornication
Grapes juice themselves when you speak
And turn to wine
Your voice is that illicit
You still my stutter to speechless
You
cruel lady
Are so careless with the hearts you impale with your heels
On the rare occasions you wear them
And please stop throwing your head back when you laugh
Or speaking so softly that I feel I need to move closer
I can’t get any closer
Not without knowing you love me
Patience is for people who have the time to wait
I have a lifetime
And it isn’t nearly long enough
Aug 25, 2011
Aug 25, 2011 at 6:52 AM UTC
Oops, I crapped my pants, again!
Good thing I wear Pampers at work.
That's shift life at the chicken processing plant.
Next time you scarf down McNuggets,
Think of me.
May 20, 2016
May 20, 2016 at 12:28 AM UTC
Rantings
now I'm hoping not to offend anyone
but this has been a really bad day,
and I'm fixin to climb up the *** of someone
don't really care if you wanna hear what I say
my old dog crapped in the hallway
looked at me and gave me this smile,
she said I'm gonna do this all day
leaving you pile upon pile
the mechanic said my vehicle was broken
to fix it will cost you more than its worth,
he smiled so I thought I might smoke him
pound his *** down to the earth
my girlfriend said I was crazy
I wanted more than she had,
from that point my mind went kinda hazy
a 12 pack of Pabst and I'm mad
Now I'm trying to explain my bad humor
understand why I talk like a fool,
feels like I have a brain tumor
crap, I almost fell off this stool
tomorrow I'll have a need for a head shrink
I probably won't remember a thing,
but right now give me more hard ***** to drink
some for you too cause I'm gonna sing
well this is my work of wild whining
I need me someone to blame,
I've been kicked to the curb to drunk for dinning,
I was a good guy, I'll stay the same.
Gomer LePoet...
Jun 29, 2010
Jun 29, 2010 at 4:12 AM UTC
Title less
We're an endless supply of love.
We're heartbeats full of life.
We're souls that are somewhat unfathomable.
We're Christian spirited, but our minds are centered to the world.
It's crazy because, Love says go on.
Heartbeats still strong.
Souls long for ours to hold on.
Spirits lift us in prayer so we stay together.
But our minds... They don't mind if we find another, so our minds wander and let us discover something other, than one another, so we cover one another thinking there is a better other, knowing that, someone like her, there ain't no other.
Our minds have to be the most disrespectful ***** in our body. It feeds on problems and issues to fulfill it's need to explore. It breaks your heart, crushes your soul and makes you think your prayers go unanswered.
Every heartbreak, every crushed soul and every unanswered prayer is exactly how your body becomes a slayer of others. Under the sheets of "I'll never be loved again" and laying on a pillow of "I'll only love her for the evening."
With her clothes on the floor screaming "You said you wouldn't do that again."
She never heard screams on top of her screams cause he was on top of her, and just for the night he was King of the world as he literally rocked her world, in her house, her bed.. And now, her walls look at her like she's a ***** cause guys are in and out like she's their local store, and she thinks she's a Queen.
Nah, she's just a peasant mopping up the Queen's mess, cause when the Queen stopped ******* she only just started.
Cause a King eats from more than one plate thinking he's more of a man for eating more, but what it makes him more of is less of a man, and from this lesson he'll never learn, until his Queen hits the streets and leaves...
Then his heart, his soul, his spirit and his mind will drown in his own pile of crap, in the toilet he crapped in... Then... Then he'll feel what it's like to be a Royal Flush.
Sep 5, 2015
Sep 5, 2015 at 11:29 AM UTC
In the exploded plan of man
I see no
substance,
a bit
like
skeleton ****
a bit
of
bare bones.
Clone me now 'Scottie'
do a 'Star Trek or 'Mickey Mouse' or
even a 'Shrek' on me.
Warp me to a Factor of three,
infirmity and infinitely beyond anything where anyone can see except for 'Buzz' and me.
In this mapped out, strapped in and crapped out state
I see the skeletons waiting at the pearly gate,
at one time it was 'gates',
but they sold one off for scrap which
is another load of crap,
a bit like skeleton ****
no substance to it.
Dec 18, 2015
Dec 18, 2015 at 8:45 AM UTC
Mother Earth
Mother Nature gave birth to our world,
So we thanked her for the wood
And complained when it rained.
We’ve only just begun to burn,
Mother nature’s twigs.
We only need the trunks and tusks today;
You can leave the rest for the vultures and the natives.
Burn these trees, they are in our way.
That bird just crapped on me!
Thanks a lot Mother Nature.
He, he.
Move out all the animals, put them in a zoo.
Empty the jungle of life, so the bulldozers can get through.
Shoot them if they get in the way, no-one’s bullet proof.
Hey look! A monkey! Let’s shoot it with pollution…Shame on you!
Did you hear about Sam?
I know! He got torn up;
By that thorny bush and that tigers lunge.
Mother Nature. She never thinks of us;
While we work **** hard,
To bulldoze her jungles.
Mother Earth indeed!
She doesn’t care about us…
Her Destroyers.
(C)2013 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Jun 8, 2018
Jun 8, 2018 at 1:50 PM UTC
How could it not happen?
Olivia the Fixer.
Mellie, poor perpetually crapped-on Mellie,
Married to that ***** boy president, Fitz.
Fitzgerald Grant: like his Dad
Having trouble keeping it in his pants,
Bent on a spectacular exit strategy
An escapade so outrageous that
Even the liberal media can't spin it.
And potential musical numbers?
Huck singing: "Happiness Is a Cordless Drill."
VP Sally: "My **** Husband."
Eli Pope: "It's Above Your Pay Grade, Babaloo!"
Jake: "I'll Take a Bullet & Your Mistress."
Abby: "Season Three Dark-Eyed *****
David: ****** Again?"
Mellie: "First Lady, Last in Line."
Fitz: "I Dig Colored Chicks."
Olivia: "Making Jam in Vermont."
And lest we forget,
The real star of the show,
Cyrus: **** Me, Lick Me, I'm the Chief of Staph."
May 14, 2016
May 14, 2016 at 4:01 PM UTC
over,the ground crawling,
in the air higher, cascaded in tears
down a torrent, went over an edge of this
earth, have given up. Reveled in birth, cried at
losing one, spoiled soiled crapped on
myself. Spent, my last scents,
came up from there soiled stinking rotting.Smelled death.
Saw it in my hands, the last breath, a snaky smiling,
haunt. Saw the last ends the beginnings, felt all of history,
thought what is this?
Vomited with the reek of alcohol, self administering
medications, lost days, in there, lost feel.
Tried to understand , the mountains, wolves trees , alpha
omega.
Saw it smiling back at me.
Apr 30, 2015
Apr 30, 2015 at 1:01 AM UTC
torn out ripped up pulled apart
pried open crapped in
it's beautiful how the people
grow up like weeds
brainless mindless
some weeds are prettier or
more useful than others,
I'm probably one of the uglier
less useful dandelions.
I can't lead the battle charge let
some other starry eyed poet with
his face on the college paper
and dozens of limp boring
verses dazzle the illiterate
and academic alike.
id rather feed the cats or water
the plants drink beer and
hassle my neighbors
or lay in a parkinglot letting
the hot pavement cook my skin
or sit in my room amongst
perfect still aloneness.
for the last week I've been having
this recurring dream of a beautiful
woman ******* me in the *** with
a ******* screaming about what
a piece of useless trash I am
blowing in the wind and how I
should **** myself.
she's completely naked except for
6in heels and bright red lipstick.
I can't begin to tell you how incredibly
hard I am when I wake up.
then I drink coffee on the porch
smoking
and stare at the world with
a tempered disinterest
thinking about the pros and
cons of skipping breakfast
Jun 20, 2014
Jun 20, 2014 at 2:48 AM UTC
a translucent puppy
bellows some buggy
and fresh crapped
candy like a
ferocious daughter
exploring the needles eye
Mar 3, 2013
Mar 3, 2013 at 5:51 PM UTC
I was left high up in the ugly tree dumped and the stork flew away!
I turned to look around me and you guessed it I slipped and fell
Falling fast I hit every branch until I hit the ground
I landed face first where a cow had just crapped, my welcome to the world
I stood up and shook myself, my body not its best, was this the start of something or the begining of the end
I went to school, college too and I just dealt with it all
The snears and making fun off me I learned to ignore
I was different or odd or not the same as you, why it mattered so much I never really knew
I stopped looking in mirrors, I probably scared kids
I don't like my photograph in fact it makes me sick
I wear clothes that hide my shape they really never fit
I have the body of the demon
But an angel hides within
See past all the labels the stigmas you attached
I am no different it's you that lives the lie
The colour of my hair and skin is just how I am wrapped
I am all I'll ever be, no make up heels or fillers to make me look the part
My face doesn't dissolve at night or rub off on my pillow
My lips are crooked, eyebrows thin and my teelth may not be straight
But I spend my cash putting dinner on my kids plates not make up on my face
So judge me not on what you see
Don't judge me at all!
You never earned the right too
You never will at all
Apr 23, 2016
Apr 23, 2016 at 9:11 PM UTC
You sicken me lately
I can't look at you it's crazy
All I hate in myself plus more
Is in you and maybe
I shouldn't be taking
This approach by saying
Things that sound mean but
All I mean when I say them
Is for you to realize when
People don't like you
Thrse are many reasons
Why they spite you
Your easily frustrated
sense of humor of a fool
You swear too much and u
Never completed high school
You still wear your pants low
It looks like u crapped urself no lie
No wonder u can't ***** train your
Son who thinks why should I
Not crap myself if my dad still
does, look at his pants
And if u feel like your going nowhere
In life this is y u can't advance
You have a history of drugs
Hang with questionable people
Your pasts path had alot of
Smoked grass and acts of evil
This all adds up to equal minus
subtracted from your life
No luxury for u and the son
U had when multiplying real nice
Now divide you two from his
mother with a remainder of u
Who seems to have a fraction
of his **** For brains to the power of 2
And if your getting mad at me
Don't bother because
I'm the only one willing to tell u all
this, being blunt with truth and love
Hoping to help u salvage
What time u got left
Now reflect on all I've said
And take a deep breath
And when I stop talking u
U Will realize what is clear
That this whole conversation was
With yourself in front of a mirror
telling yourself all u needed to
Hear was a reflection to smarten you up
So this is a letter from me to me, or me to us
Wake up... ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,That was really ******
Jan 10, 2015
Jan 10, 2015 at 10:30 PM UTC
Poor Willie Williams
Waiting for the train
Traffic Cops stole his money
It's a sad story; it's not funny
Poor Doctor Williams
Awake in Lincoln Park
Arrested for his scribblings
"We don't like your kind" they bark
Carlos won't you come back
Give this old town a haunt
They crapped on paradise again
Your town is full of greed and sin
Apr 28, 2016
Apr 28, 2016 at 10:02 AM UTC
I wrote a poem
called feather light
in which a man
took flight like raptors
from a ledge where those creatures
were known to perch
for a minuscule morsel of time
the man felt feather light in his free fall,
but that didn't last--soon the grave grip
of gravity made its presence known
though before he landed
on the pine green canyon floor
the sluggish tug of memory
yanked on him rudely, and lumped his throat
dispelling the manic myth one's life
passes before one's eyes in that final moment
all he saw, save the tree tops
and the shimmering river
was a door closing, the one where she
was on the other side, suitcase in tow
and he was left with a tear drenched face
and aching heart--a lover jilted, again
yes, that was what the poem was about
(but my PC ate it and crapped it out into cyberspace)
Oct 22, 2017
Oct 22, 2017 at 8:53 PM UTC