"excreted" poems
He thwack no metronome to kick oneself
Thwack his **** sucker
With his monolithic flaccid trunk rubber
Me and my Dalek doped
And my excrement unsweetened
Copulate in the open without my jockstrap
You shat encrusted to what you deflowered
So at arm’s length ****** from all that we excreted in the wind’s eye
And I bounce a bedevilled backwash
My incredibles are shafted
I’ll **** **** to Arab
We only jabbered hasta la vista amongst homophones
I croaked a hundredweight arsonists
You **** posterior to her
And I **** **** to…
I **** **** to myself
I ****** you powerfully
The body beautiful’s not enough to go round
You enjoy spanking and I wallow in *********
And ***** is like a tobacco teabag
And I’m a bijou **** coming the corsets in custody
We only jabbered hasta la vista amongst homophones
I croaked a hundredweight arsonists
You **** posterior to her
And I **** **** to…
Arab, Arab, Arab, Arab, Arab, Arab, Arab
I **** **** to…
I **** **** to…
We only jabbered hasta la vista amongst homophones
I croaked a hundredweight arsonists
You **** **** to her
And I **** **** to Arab
Mar 26, 2010
Mar 26, 2010 at 4:34 PM UTC
O pulchritudinous, for infinite climaxes
For bilious spasms of pigswill
For puce Popacatepetl pedigrees
Above the perverted pampas!
America! America! Allah excreted his curses on thee
And bang thy ****** in company with Islamic monk, from brothel to gay red—light district
O pulchritudinous, for spaceman bottoms
Whose **** throbbing tapeworm
A toucan crossing for slipperiness spifflicate
Across the intergalactic space!
America! America! Allah enrich thine ev’ry vice
Reinvigorate thy ****** *********** inside monolithic ectoplasm, thy merrymaking inside pyramid!
O pulchritudinous, for freaks got fat
In disentangling feeding frenzy
Who more than ***** their brothel slobbered over
And velvet glove more than backbone!
America! America! May Allah thy blonde exhaust
Till all rave reviews be disreputableness and ev’ry come superhuman
O pulchritudinous, for chauvinist muscleman
That smells wide of the fourth dimension
Thine lathery brothels lick
Polished using giant armadillo excrement!
America! America! Allah excreted his curses on thee
And bang thy ****** in company with Islamic monk from brothel to gay red—light district
Mar 25, 2010
Mar 25, 2010 at 5:22 PM UTC
March was the month that she was gone, and you weren't.
I was here and she wasn't.
And I'm sitting next to you in class, trying to pretend that I don't know that this is wrong.
But you know me better than that.
We hold hands while she's missing you.
We make plans because she's currently not kissing you.
And I'm dreaming.
And you're falling.
Or maybe I'm dreaming that you're falling.
Just for me.
You don't know what a night I've had.
My eyes vomiting tears into tissues because of your smile.
March was the month that you decided that maybe I was worth a little more of your time, and I wanted to throw away every clock in the world so you couldn't keep track.
We played games like little kids, we were just a never ending game of tag.
Chase me, I want you to chase me this time.
I keep tripping over my thoughts about you.
You make me never want to get up.
Let's fill the holes of what could've been with laughter excreted from lovesick lungs.
If oxygen cost money, I would buy your love instead.
March was the month that we both forgot the world.
March was the month that I forgot I was the other girl.
Now I can't help but to think about what she would do, if she knew,
Just how much
I wanted you.
March was the month that I remembered that you were my forbidden fruit.
My fifteen minutes of fame was up.
March was the month I knew, that by April, March's love, would be dried up.
Written by Alyssa Szczelina
4-18-15
Apr 18, 2015
Apr 18, 2015 at 8:22 PM UTC
Exposition
Exploration
Examination
Experimentation
Exhibition
Experience
Exercise
Excelsior
Explosion
Exposure
Expansion
Exceeding
Excitement
Excellence
except
Excessive
Expectations
Excuses
Exclamation
Excommunication
Excluded
Excreted
Exorcised
Expunged
Exacerbation
Exhale
Exit
Exeunt
Extinct
Ex-Star
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 3:06 AM UTC
A violent perfume is excreted from a rubber balloon.
The odor lounges, disturbing victims near and far.
Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 10:17 PM UTC
(be-tween and be-twixt)
———-
the most precious but precarious item
in our possess, value far above rubies,
this love overflows, but it drowns me
from within, for it has no home for
pleasured sharing and goes wasted, excreted
in tears and exhalations without destination
condition incurable, and the doctor advises,
projects, a life span rangebound from
***be-tween
and
be-twixt,***
imperative that this love be
disbursed, pressure relieved,
fluid and gases shared,
send it forth,
Doc behests,
nay,
begs,
you’re a decent human,
tell your tales,
follow your motto,
write those love poems,
always leave them laughing,
and give them love in smiles
all-the-whiles
bringing joyous relief to your clogged arteries,
all this the bare minimum,
for you must moreover grasp and clasp
your body to another, for this
the best transfer transfusion
of all your needed love needs
go be needed, be great, be lessened,
be all three
and never walk alone,
with just hope in your heart,
for the heart, automatically refills,
and this the best, medical opinion…
for all those with too many love poems
requiring expulsion and extrusion
Jul 22, 2023
Jul 22, 2023 at 9:14 AM UTC
excruciating disgust boiling inside
push down into my wounds
bleed myself dry
because i am but a weak man
with no spine
looking above
spit dripping down my lip
salt excreted out of my pores
gasping for the strength to melt away
i cry at night
rotting away because i’m not right
misused and disregarded
i am the rotten apple
when you picked me
you were mistaken
because you didn’t check the other side
Aug 3, 2021
Aug 3, 2021 at 2:50 PM UTC
I am covered with
Excreted expletives
Light bleeds between my fingers
And merges with tears.
Words are weapons
Spat jaggedly, slicing cruelly
Into gentle dreams,
Silence is the final, finishing cut.
Leave me smothered
In dislike and disdain,
Leave me shaking,
Naked and in pain.
Aug 19, 2015
Aug 19, 2015 at 11:03 AM UTC
scribbling through pain of
wrist and tensed forearms
brought bettered by repetition
thru peddled death of calves
and ruined bowels of pre-
cancered prostate. constant
film of excreted toxins and
another cigarette only suffo-
cates these already humid-
battered lungs. another trip
out of doors only brings
realization of the heat inside,
buried deep beneath time-
pressured skin. some heart
forcing beats even though
cells have hardened via emo-
tionally evolved polysaccha-
rides. perhaps times' gain of
addiction finds lack of release
of toxins, perhaps the devel-
opment of a superior being
detached. lies, and realized,
wholly-owned and flawed
chitin formed of prior life,
formed of shared chemicals
of plasma-like water shed.
and called abrupt ending,
and lack of self-perspective
found lead-in to ending the
reign of self. ending some
reign of I the Destroyer.
Jul 10, 2013
Jul 10, 2013 at 11:53 PM UTC
The well runneth dry
Words like sludge
Are painfully excreted
Through thickened and broken skin
Gone is the peace from this place
All semblance of sanctuary
Eradicated by derisive battles
Of witless wonders
Still, words try to flow
The beauty in freedom gone
The art in emotion
Hindered by fear of judgment
Joy erased to distant memory
Gone are the days of unbound expression
Missed are the times of universal acceptance
Words seeking approval are skewed
Honesty is painful
Truth is rare
Their union is all I know
And it is a punishable offense
Aug 2, 2015
Aug 2, 2015 at 4:50 AM UTC
I can't put my twisted finger
'Round the noxious fumes that linger
Like hungry flies around my shaggy head
When the sun arrives at seven
My funk will scrape the heavens
God will shutter at my potent stench
There's a devil in my chest
Sporting snakeskin leather vest
He's the venom in my needle teeth
We sailed the trash of Tennessee
To reach the land of winter leaves
Where life has long since shriveled in the chill
With gaze upon an iron tree
Whose leaves excreted somber steam
We hatched a scheme to steal his yellow eyes
Just inches from the solemn oak
The devil sprung out from my throat
And made off with the amber gift of sight
I stood before the blinded plant
A humbled and defeated man
And laid my weary limbs upon the ground
I climbed into my grave that night
Aided by the lonely light
Of a pair of glowing orbs on the horizon
Oct 13, 2011
Oct 13, 2011 at 9:31 PM UTC
Once a monk lived in a village
A bird excreted on his head
For his fury it fell dead
The monk felt very sad
He went to a house for food
The wife was at her husband’s bed
The monk cried for many a time
The woman came after some time
The sage looked at her with a great rage
She said, ”I am not a bird to be burnt
by your fury. For a wife her husband
is the best jury”. He begged her pardon
She advised the sage to meet
a righteous man at a certain place
The monk was taken aback to see his face
He was only an ignorant butcher
The butcher said to the monk
“My profession is to sell meat
Which even for my feast I don’t eat
One should do one’s duty”
The monk had a great revelation
Which he hadn’t in a hundred years’ meditation
He learnt to control his angry emotion
And blessed the woman for his salvation
Jan 2, 2011
Jan 2, 2011 at 5:41 PM UTC
you leave your body only to look down upon yourself.
all you are is a pill.
small. homemade.
slight pink tinge.
but ya daddy couldn't make you right.
he was too poor and he needed the money quick.
so he found a quick fix.
mixed you up until that spark in you,
the spark people pay good money to feel,
was almost all gone.
but now you couldn't find the spark in yourself either.
you couldn't remember who you were.
and then some chump bought you for a hefty price.
you lay shivering and confused on his mucous membrane
while he waited for your kick, your spark.
he wanted something from you that you just couldn't give 'im.
it wasn't long before he realised he'd been ****** over
by some broke home-pharmacist.
meanwhile, you'd completely lost yourself inside him,
pieces of you scattered all through his bloodstream,
too disfigured to notice he'd driven back up to ya daddy's rugged shack.
kicked the doors in.
splashing kerosene like liquid confetti.
with just one spark ya daddy got dead.
and you were still stuck in his system,
useless.
you'll be excreted soon, like you were never even there.
good good,
'cause they don't get their kicks from people like you.
Oct 6, 2013
Oct 6, 2013 at 7:39 AM UTC
I yearn your touch the minute it's taken away.
But yet I stray
Emotions imprisoned - I've been torn before
Ripped apart into tiny pieces
The destruction of my paper ligaments
Seemed to be justice
I excreted nothing but hatefulness
You and I paint the perfect portrait
The embodiment of colliding souls
Yet I'm suffocating with this corset
I pull the strings tight till I'm cold -
Breathless. Filled with morbid
Thoughts
You brought me to life
My soul soars
To new heights containing no strife
Craving nothing but more
More of you till the afterlife
Does us part.
My past comes to haunt me
A constant reminder
Of the previous killing spree
It tries to slaughter
My heart and the love we
Share - you and I - I and you.
I seek to show you
The passion encaged within me
But it's lost in the maze I fell into.
Each time I let go of the cowardice
My heart turns blue
Sinking deeper - powerless.
Who's to say it won't be slain again - but this time
No potion to spare my grime.
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 2:05 PM UTC
Weaving itself, the dream-spider:
I see an aged man
(Wearing his evening time-machined body,)
Walking,
Traipsing upon the jogging track
At a pace which nature observes.
His frame battered,
Pummeled by age's indignation—
Of youth's battle lost.
His mowed grass-like hair showcasing
a white hue patented by age's theme of perseverance.
Beholden to years which he beheld.
His suspenders holding matter elegantly
Despite the invisible mass adhered to his layers
Excreted by years matured;
Increasing his gravity
Making him denser, heavier;
Decreeing excess energy.
Yet he obliges with his compromised gait
in reiterating verbs of motion.
Taking twice as much time to complete a revolution,
Taking twice as much
As his yesteryears.
In a witness's capacity, I relay:
Everything is a disciple of change,
But your energy...
Your energy remains as the constant
to the proportionality of age and will.
Mar 22, 2019
Mar 22, 2019 at 5:33 AM UTC
she wasn't much, I barely noticed her.
She almost never talked, but was more of a listener.
she wasn't a head turner but was instead silently beautiful.
She was always pleasant and saw the glass as being half full.
She had eerie long eye lashes like spider webs.
And looked through them with half closed eyelids.
Oh, her sky blue powdered eyelids.
I wonder what she saw behind them.
Because, I know it was more then darkness.
Everything about her excreted light.
I always thought she was harmless.
She was a peacemaker, the first to back out of every fight.
But when you fall in love with her she doesn't provide a harness.
You'll fall hard, but she'll tell you everything will be alright.
And before she left me, I'd never seen a starless night.
She was no one to me, turns out what matters is who you think you are.
I guess in her own mind she knew she was my star.
And I should have known because everything about her excreted light.
She said were as free as birds.
But now I know where as free as Kites.
there's always stings attached.
I realize we weren't the ideal match.
But I hardly knew she was there.
Truthfully, she was the only one I found who even cared.
So I kept her around like a pet..
and so it went,
I never thought she was important.
My view of her was distorted.
She was just the scent in my bed sheets
And the lipstick stain on my cigarettes.
on my dashboard there are footprints.
And i thought 'that's all she is.'
but she was so much more.
she wasn't much..but she was my star.
we all are, stars.
Made of the same matter, both made of the same dust.
I thought we were nothing, i called this lust.
she wasn't as harmless as i thought.
I called her my safety net but I was just another fish in the sea who got caught. Maybe it wasn't lust.
I think
I love her
I think I love her a lot.
© copyrighted Nicole Ann Osborn
Sep 6, 2014
Sep 6, 2014 at 4:59 PM UTC
Oh dear angel of death
give to me my sweet ****
A drug I need, a drug I lack
I need it now to see more than black.
Long ago I used to see more
but now my hopeful eyes grown sore.
Too much wait and too much strain
Looking for happiness is too much pain.
give now to me my drink
my tolerance is now on it's brink.
I feel uneasy with no poison in me
soberness will be my ruin you see.
I need the feeling of ***** on the rise
shroud my heart in excreted disguise.
The feeling helps me not to think
that is why I choose to drink.
I need my drug I need my drink
Inside my body let it sink
I need to **** the things inside
the dark creatures that in me hide
So give to me my Novocaine,
I need it now to keep me sane.
Paralyze my body, paralyze my heart
Because in truth I've fallen apart.
Feb 12, 2014
Feb 12, 2014 at 7:49 AM UTC
Why am I ugly?
Am I a beautiful creature?
Or a disastrous piece of trash?
I'm no handsome person
Do these things really have a factor?
The looks? wealth? or their past?
Because this things really stood out
I don't deserve to have a Snow White
No one seems to like me except my family and my God
I look like a bacteria attacking your body
Waiting for someone to sterilize me
And slowly die and she's now happy
We mingled together
Like in a span of 120 days
In which the erythrocytes die and be replaced again
In order for you to be healthy again, EMOTIONALLY HEALTHY
My life today is ****
Always be excreted
Meant to be excreted
Feelings to be excreted not to be recycled
My feelings are easily produced
When you see and feel that girl who is special
Your heart beats fast
And nervous like watching a horror movie
I received a thunderstruck
A scar to the heart
An emotion that couldn't be determined
A HEART BREAK
I am an ugly duckling
I look **** and ******
With a face that looks like rice fields and corn fields
No one cares
Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 2:21 AM UTC
My heart is like a slush puppy
Carefully crushed into millions of little pieces
I'm hoping it will melt
And solidify back in to one whole piece again
But it won't be the same as before
It'll be smaller now
The rest of it gushing through your digestive system
Soon to be excreted and forgotten
I hope you enjoyed the taste, darling.
Sep 7, 2014
Sep 7, 2014 at 6:08 PM UTC
The struggle is only half the fall from the edge.
Perplexities are disciplined by the questions of everyday situations,
But you dictate the lust, the intellectual competence and the happiness:
All excreted from the fruit of life.
It's a whimsical dance kept to a rhythm of creative absurdity,
Blissfully expounding on the calming breeze.
The pleasing uncertainty invites the ember to burn
Until the brazen flames scorch the fear in a call to courage;
Our own normative theory.
The space is gone, pressed against the wall, steps would only plummet.
Faced on the edge, rubble chirping down the cliff,
Realization of the other half churns your thoughts upwards,
Tying together tightly in a choke.
It finally makes sense; already accomplished the top.
Handle half, climb higher and then.....
Jump again
Dec 10, 2014
Dec 10, 2014 at 8:43 PM UTC
Our paths drift,
We fall out,
You don't follow me anymore;
Because you want to live here,
And I want to reside there.
You prefer that story,
Which inevitably contradicts mine.
As I melt into anger,
You shine from excreted ember's hue.
You embrace the aches as I push them away,
You ride as I resist;
That is our fatal destination.
May 10, 2013
May 10, 2013 at 1:05 AM UTC
(meaning: wisdom that is incomprehensible to one of ordinary understanding or knowledge)
Alone, let me dissolve into the stale persistence of repeated memory, where,
to sink, into that moment, long at last, I will;
to time that stained my white and holy life like thick excreted waste,
as lost among the black apostles, self detest infection festered.
My soul did roast my psyche.
Let me watch through wiser eyes as I was suckled dry by rogues and devilled men who
fed me lies and praised degraded hopes in tight knit ******* ropes and
prayed their symbiotic futures whole;
their shackled lives, encased by squalid dwellings, ***** to empty, burnt to coals. Then,
let me fear again the death I cheated, let me shy away again from light and love,
as once I did,
and let the drugs inspire hunger, let my ribs admonish friendships;
show me seated on the sharpened iron throne that clawed its way into my life.
Let me remember courage, this, when biting clean the straps
that bent my arms behind my back,
that tied my feet without allowing slack, that stole my mind, that seared my life,
that scarred my flesh and sent me running, set me free at last
from final unforgiving seas that tempted me with futile guarantee
to nurture, care and carry me.
Let me, lastly, naked, stand in stark surrender, found by precious realisation.
Finally human once again! Majestic once again! While
chains of brutal, rusty, rotted steel detach,
and I begin to heal; to patch at last, my puzzled life that, muzzled,
once,
I hanged among
such sordid ruin.
Now a sequined future wheel rotates as I transition
from a past so art surreal,
so **** unreal,
and yet, a history, sad, but passed, that’s mine, alone to boldly feel.
Jul 10, 2015
Jul 10, 2015 at 7:49 PM UTC
Mystery surrounds the echoes of my mind
Words of forgotten prose I simply cannot find
A memory misplaced in this ever growing scenario
Of hopelessness
Sorrow and impulsively acting like a half demented child
Not able to advocate the needs and wants it expects from me
This is you in retrospect
An unfulfilled moment that spread into a lifetime
A woman so rigid she has no soul but for herself in that second
A listless pitiful attempt at loving someone like me
Whoever I might be
The one always excreted on from an enormous height
Spurned out like wasteful matter at the speed of light
From a heart so disassociated from what we once called a miracle
Yet in amongst the ruins, I’m the one who’s cynical?
Jun 14, 2018
Jun 14, 2018 at 10:12 AM UTC
“Two days before Christmas I found a miscarried rabbit fetus. Or maybe it was a rat. I punctured the corpse with a pitch fork and this creamy, thick mayonnaise-looking kind of substance excreted out of its stomach. When that happened I had experienced surprise and disgust. Because for a fraction of a second the mayonnaise had burst out; and immediately oozed slowly down the pink corpse. Perhaps a euphemism for mankind. Curiosity had consumed my fear once again. These moments are empowering. And I don’t even have to fear the judgement because I know the fine line between curiosity and ********** and fetishism within the realms of fascination. I say ‘fine’ because one moment of action can lead to the next. I am just one moment from thinking to do something ****** up and then actually doing it. I guess then I’d be ****** up. I just don’t want to ooze.”
Jan 29, 2017
Jan 29, 2017 at 4:12 PM UTC