"fecal" poems
It seems to me that one gets **** on,
and the other does the ********
(Not directly you see;
this ***** exchange is done through a third-party.)
One swallows his pride for the sake of relief,
and the other is proud of the way that he stinks.
Mar 15, 2015
Mar 15, 2015 at 6:54 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
Some of the first mecha featured in manga
& anime were super robots [スーパーロボット _sūpā robotto_],
ultimate, sometimes transforming into weapons
w/ superpowers. They are often one of a kind
products of an ancient civilization, aliens or
mad genius, are usually piloted by Japanese teenagers
& often powered by mystical or exotic energy sources;
Getter Rays, Photonic Energy, Ide, Spiral Power &c.
Sometimes they are formed from
a combination of a few weaker robots;
their abilities described as "quasi-magical";
w/ Miss America becoming less & less
a beauty pageant, it's only a matter of time
before Medusa inherits the mantle;
the revived gods of the ancient world
crossing the rainbow bridge to do battle w/
high-tech monster robots; AI meaning nothing to a flying fist;
Apotheosis, from Greek ἀποθέωσις from ἀποθεοῦν,
apotheoun "to deify"; in Latin deificatio "make divine";
also called divinization & deification;
is the glorification of a subject to divine level;
The term has meanings in theology, where it refers to a belief in art where it refers to a genre;
Defecation is the final act of digestion,
by which organisms eliminate solid, semisolid,
or liquid waste material from the digestive tract via the ****
Humans expel feces w/ a frequency varying
from a few times daily to a few times weekly;
Waves of muscular contraction known as peristalsis
in the walls of the colon move ***** matter
through the digestive tract towards the ******
Undigested food may also be expelled this way,
in a process called _egestion_
Open defecation, the practice of defecating outside
w/out using a toilet of any kind,
is still widespread in some countries,
for example in India, home of the
heroic deities of Hinduism that evolved
from the Vedic era 2nd millennium BCE
through the medieval era, 1st millennium CE
Sep 9, 2018
Sep 9, 2018 at 10:09 PM UTC
there's a crazzzy devil
in
the white house
twisting our nation
into a denizens den
a tub of **** in a suit
ascending ***** matter
in
a clogged toilet
a black plague
we have a president with the attention span
of sea clams
an emotional ******* drip of impetuosity
a spiraling fit of rage
a snarling delusional dog
narcissist in a warping mirror
a pathetic complainer
a cyst on the body politic
clot
open sore
seething pustule
piggish **** lover
gangsters dupe
fascist wana be
heil heil
god your a pile
making Russia great again
licking Vlad's *****
protecting your assets no doubt
and hissing tweets
at war with with only everything
and figments of a disturbed imagination
a real windmill killer
his mouth
the devils mark
a yapping compulsive lier
forked tongued fury
possessed to a fault
by the vainglories
of money and ego out of bounds
the biggest and the best
at being
the very worst and a pest
grand royalty of ridicule
*****
a ham ****** cartoon nightmare
and clumsy stumbling bore
a seething volcano of perpetual excrement
reading from the book of chaos
aberrations of enemies
a war room president
at war with his own citizens
huddled in a panic chamber
burns and cuts himself
with his own hot sharp words
as there thrown back at him
a bully getting bullied
a ripper getting ripped
the brains of a lizards eyelid
in a shadeless socket
pulp hearted orangutan
menace to society
his mottled soul
like a black sun
on the verge
of a black hole
a hell mill of decrepitude
a dark creep creeping
tarnishing our beautiful country
lights dim
America
there's a devil
in the white house
May 31, 2017
May 31, 2017 at 5:00 PM UTC
Do you know
how your body is fed?
Do you truly see
how we make the bread?
Do you wonder the ingredients
concealed like a bedspread?
Well, I heard a fact
That's got me seeing red
About artificial flavors
that 'bout made me drop dead.
Now, it may not be visible
You might see it in a museum
In a petri dish, in a *****
It's called
CASTOREUM.
It's not very pretty,
You wouldn't want to see 'em
Big business would tell you
If they were to take the veritaserum.
I apologize for the nastiness
but someone must be told
Its not on the nutrition label
Though it should be written in BOLD
I'm not sure how to phrase it
But it comes from the ***** hole
Of a dead ****** then
into your coffee, cold.
Once you realize
What's truly inside,
Coffee creamer goes from
Dr. Jekyll to Mr. Hyde.
Now, I have been scarred
I don't want it cold, I don't want it fried.
I don't want it at all, I'm mortified
That they would put in the food I tried.
So fear the vanilla
And eat the chicken
And never forget that ******
was kickin'
Before it was deprived of its ***** matter
and stay away from things you don't know what they stick in.
Apr 4, 2019
Apr 4, 2019 at 2:38 PM UTC
(insert generic death metal song title here one)
Human blood bath
Soak in ********* and human waste
Got a taste for the diseased human race
Acid melting face
Drink from the spewing flesh
Gurgle and gargle to the dying beat
Of a victims last gulp of tarnished breath
(insert generic death metal song title here two)
Skull cracked and bleeding
Blood **** filled wounds seeping
Immaculate Christ unjaded
Aborted abortion
Born and bathed in afterbirth
Blown and constipated in foreign ***** matter
Torn from arms of zombie flesh
Decaying in the hot summer sun
Baked in the hot summer sun
(insert generic death metal song title here three)
Trash my intended victim with nothing better to do
Than torture **** **** and torture some more
Death does not last in the flesh
Emancipated from life
Just a breath away from dying
Hang on to the threads of the noose
Strangulating the frustrating last gasp of air
Torture **** **** and torture some more
Out of boredom and out of time
Boredom kills
You better watch out
I’m coming for you
(insert generic death metal song title here four)
Hollow eye sockets
Wretched
Reeking
Filthy ****
Plastered on crimson caked hands
****** dirt beneath the fingernails
Scratches scraped in the walls
From bodies dragged thru the hall
Down the stairs to the killing room
Meat hook art show of disembodied
And disemboweled corpses
Dismembered in some horrorshow freakshow
Bowl of human remains cooked on the stove
For this years All-You-Can-Eat chili fest
Lick savory lips with salted tongue
Hunger pains from cannibalistic urges
The brain tastes best when paired with a good wine
Eat, drink, and be merry
Tomorrow you’re on the menu
Sep 17, 2011
Sep 17, 2011 at 2:23 PM UTC
Nineteen million NASA's price
To build its crew a safe device
So astronauts could have a place
To handle *** and ***** waste
And men of space would have a loo
To do what other men must do
These millions bucks NASA would pay
So no spaceman would float away
These men were safe from their own farts
With leg restraints and other parts
And all was safely put in place
A porta-potty out in space
But something's wrong I heard today
An amber rain on its way
No place to hide no place to run
A loo in space has come undone
From far in space a cry unheard
A spaceman hit by a flying ****
Sep 25, 2010
Sep 25, 2010 at 10:41 PM UTC
What in the world is wrong with me?
Writing poems about gross stuff I see.
Like ***** matter and old underwear
Is there something odd up there?
Poems all about maggoty dog poo,
Popping pimples and what else did I do?
I wrote a poem about a piece of ****
And a guy blowing boogars in his soup
One about a pickled pig in a jar
Do I think this will make me a star?
About a guy who was stuck on a bus
Who had an accident and there was a fuss
I also wrote one about my pet cat
With tinsel in her **** What's up with that?
I also have a poem about picking everything
from teeth to **** and finger licking
I wrote about an autopsy that happens when your dead
Is there a short circuit inside of my head?
You know I had to write about farting gas
And what happens when something else you pass.
And about a guy killing a bunch of birds
Just because one, in his eye, dropped a terd
About inflamed hemroids and rotten, spoiled meat
And a terd eating dog. That's not neat!
One about a boy not bathing for a month
I wonder if that wasn't my millionth.
I even have one about digging up old poo
And one about changing diapers. Oh eww!
I'm sure that soon there will be more to come
With the way my brain works and where I'm from
So 'til then I think I'll end this tirade
And hope you'll read the next mess made.
Oct 3, 2012
Oct 3, 2012 at 11:49 PM UTC
The day is overcast
From an ogre blast
Of the covert class
Giving a motor mass
About a potent past
Building a molten mask
To avoid the token task
Of fighting the coldest clash
To break our coated cast
They only help
If it's for wealth
Then they stealth
Once it's dealt
Until they melt
Into their belts
Providing welts
Prioritizing financial impunity
Over helping their community
Then asking for social immunity
After all they do to me
Being so rude to be
Hopelessly glued to greed
Until we are blue and bleed
They kick up dirt and flee
Into sandy eyes that plead
But as far as I can see
Vultures are flying free
Over the uprooted trees
Conquering overseas
A manifest destiny
They claim is for me
They won't take a leap of faith
Life for them is keep and take
Saying let them eat cake
Over the bones we break
Because the serious stake
Is our entire life's fate
Yet they can't relate
So we live in a state
Of being an inmate
Of their opulent hate
So they can feel great
Clouds cover the sky
As clowns suffer and die
Because we suffer from lies
Of the ***** drawn flies
Blocking the sunrise
Jul 20, 2018
Jul 20, 2018 at 2:54 PM UTC
A smile is knowing
The dark crease of a well-arched spine
The dewy white lotus petals
The sad title of concubine
The blue glass so plainly beautiful
With its cold smooth sides
A blown vase that sits precious
Atop a dead deer's stretched hide
The hallowed slope of a portruding illiac
And the decadent crust of a sweet fruit pie
On a black vinyl stage floor
In a room filled with echoing cries
The reverberance loud and hollow
With ears ringing opened wide
The bends of her young tendons
In her ropey pale limbs
They flex and harshly twitch
How a scared and hooked fish swims
The cyclic orbits of planets and lifetimes
A ballerina's pirouette spins
Now the tarlatan and muslin gets torn to shreds
And the blinding stage lights quickly dim
The wet heat of a hungry tongue
Slaps upon her sweating skin
The audience simply does nothing
Just like the tall plant stalks of the green motel
Or the muddy vines in swamps in Rwanda
Or white wallpaper in the locked rooms of certain hells
The diseases that squirm in tainted waters
Of Liberia's ***** wells
The missing limbs of wartime amputees
Reflected in the golden glint of spent brass shells
Amidst the screams of
NO
STOP
NO
It yells the words
GO
GOD
GO
Through the grinning lips of the manifest destiny
And the arms of Khmer Rouge's killings
Its legs are formed from the many faces of lynch mobs
Its hands are hewn of American prison facilities and county jails
It's dripping deadly doses of fentanyl in local ****** shipments
And ****** dancers
Jul 29, 2017
Jul 29, 2017 at 8:20 PM UTC
Swirling colors
paint the market square,
shrimp lie heaped
next to the
bananas & chilis,
there's lemonade,
tires with rubber patches,
a sense of community
hangs in the air.
Deals are made
in hard currency
or in trade.
A natural flow exists,
as if everyone
is on autopilot.
And behind the scenes,
just under the surface,
one feels the depression,
pain is palpable.
You can see it in
the eyes of the dogs,
rib-poking-skinny,
hairless, manged & skittish.
They hang with the limbless ones,
half-humans,
legless & starved,
dragging themselves
on cobbled streets
through ***** matter & *****
wallowing in the mire,
begging for peanuts & money.
It ain't funny.
Jan 22, 2014
Jan 22, 2014 at 3:41 AM UTC
ANAL-RETENTIVE
(Pea-Brains & Fecal-Matters)
There’s obvious precautions
For a ditsy-twerk’s ‘bottoming’
Cleanliness is the foremost-thing
Fore & aft, as a sailor might put-it
Don’t put that ****** away, just yet
When the Fleets in & the play’s the
thing, be smart & cautionary & clean
May end-up with a nasty sphincter
Where anyone would rather-not like
to sit upon, either, ever, & never
An oz. of precaution is worth a lb.
of cure & the cure might-be a worst
disaster than ever it’s antidote
— Ray Laccetti
May 17, 2019
May 17, 2019 at 9:56 AM UTC
It’s 1:21am on a Thursday night and there’s no rain
where there should be.
There’s no weeping over the seven-colored earths
and the erosion of the skin is building up.
I have a mouth full of stumbling words,
nervous and absurd,
like wax flowers and plastic china cups;
bottles of placebos.
I have masks on the walls
and body parts on the floor.
Dim light from violet lampshades painting worlds
with minimal effort, but with profound meanings
that pretentious collegiates speak over bearded elders
while stuck in fishbowl towns, separated from the oceans of
metropolitan beliefs.
*Pulling nail fibers from fingertips with crooked teeth,
a habitual ritual christened from a darker half.
Waves of feral multitude plunging the streets
As riots of people made of fire chant the names of fallen angels
And personified martyrs.*
Episode after episode of plot-thickening exposition,
the weight of which is but a feather to the pull of the moon.
To **** my privates to a saddened resolution that’s
sweeter than a mutual **** for the sake of love.
*Penetrating me with needles as thick as bones,
Brittle as sculpted phalluses made of teeth.
Drilled out from the cavities and clamped iron
that make me grind and ******
In my sleep
out of nightmarish extremity.
Or persistent calamity.*
She’s dead, wrapped in plastic
And fountains are pouring mercury
Profuse silver-stained drooling
Ostracized from sane certainty
*The thunder of guttural bellowing
In the chasm of bed sheets,
where leather bound demons
split ***** hands under ice knifes
Muffled voices
And embryo faces
Tearing out primal smiles
Tied with black laces
In a public amphitheater.*
She’s dead, wrapped in plastic
And fountains are pouring mercury
Second time I’m seeing it drool
With a last moment of certainty.
It’s 1:41 on a Friday morning and there’s rain.
Finally.
Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 11:15 PM UTC
and my thoughts are incontinent
I cant hold them in
my head may explode
verbal diarrhea
spews from my lips
all that I say
Is watery nonsense
ideas splattered everywhere
fester and decay
staining this space
with ***** disillusion
the brilliance I once had
is useless from exhaustion
tiredness: the cause of
my skulls distention
May 1, 2013
May 1, 2013 at 2:22 PM UTC
We live in a world of ill reprieve,
cast into the under belly of society.
We are driven into the depths of mortal sins,
drowning in pools of ***** waste that haunt our minds.
We are forever deserted in a desolate wasteland of filth,
crawling and scratching our way to the surface just to breathe.
We are in hell's kitchen, where we are the feast
and the natives are restless and getting very hungry.
We destroyed every morsel of our well being,
we were not civilized human beings, we were animals.
We were the cause of the volatile destruction of mankind,
we dropped the words, the weapons and the bombs.
We are no more.
Oct 20, 2014
Oct 20, 2014 at 7:07 PM UTC
Bantum nodule of society
I am, we
Everything is Granuloma's wilt
Cusp and mezzo
Come to be, then, we certify in 'no show'
capping all behind a binded furrow
Look at all of these people
They are here theres
Pullulating like flies
Feeding off of the ***** matter that they call life
Apr 3, 2011
Apr 3, 2011 at 9:27 PM UTC
Yes, my lady
That shadow is gone
The slipping silhouette
Real light shines through
Radiating the truth
I **** my head away
My eyes shrink
And belly aches
I held it in
Released it yesterday
Time not defined
For it is nothing
Yes, I do
You aren’t worth my tears
My biggest fears
You cover your self in ***** truth
Deception
Contraception
I speak your language well
Dec 2, 2015
Dec 2, 2015 at 9:58 PM UTC
Like fireflies, circling the torches on the porch.
Like moths, ebbing away at the soft cloth of clothes
It bugs me to know
Even more when you show
There is nothing I can do
To help you pull through
Like mosquitos, seven cylindrical mouths **** up several drops of blood
Like flies, frantically flapping flying ***** eaters
All the waste your handing
I'm handling
with my bare hands
There is only so much blood in a man's body
Dec 19, 2012
Dec 19, 2012 at 7:13 PM UTC
It:::::just:::::::so:::::::happens
-that a door to another world opened today. I caught a glimpse but my attention is so consistently drawn to the weight of what I carry; it is gently cradled while I rearrange the tattered wraps that keep it bundled.
-Such a man as this committed to remain stuck in this world while crying for a change; the royal cynic shadow king, lazily draped upon a throne of ***** matter.
-If not the others who make up this world, who can I look to for the feeling of worth that I cannot find?
-I've decided to sit this one out a long time ago, you know? I keep the expectations low enough to match the efforts but my thoughts are too many to regard this as victory.
-It just so happens that I live my life in a constant state of grief. I mourn the naïveté that once provided escape. I mourn the loss of hope, no longer comforted by the story of a distant day feeling worthy of life and just being enough.
-What I seek cannot be provided from the world I see outside. This feeling of worth is not attached or enhanced by lovers, friends, or family. No experience, accomplishment, object, or victory will satisfy my soul.
-In the end, I can only rely on myself.
-This realization is a new door and the first steps wandering through begin the path of holding oneself accountable for decision and action.
-Empty, unapologetic, and all consuming
-A discovery that all days painted in an unfavorable way have been set to the theme I've created.
-This path is not chosen by everyone, some never meet this realization. I run only to end up right where I started. Others deny and hide from the ugliness that resides within. The once empty pleasures of activity without substance will no longer do, but the rewards along the way are many.
-Some days I really can’t find my value. Some days all that I create turns out like sh*t. Some days I cry about my imperfections and those reflected by my family. Some days I don't want to wake. Most days I crave more connection while hiding away. Some days just don't seem worth the effort it takes to make it through to the next.
Still sad – partly mad
Am I worthy of this life?
If I wasn’t this would not exist.
Apr 2, 2013
Apr 2, 2013 at 7:20 AM UTC
with certain jesting apprehension
i entertain her moist ***** darting elocutions
she's splaying candidly 'pon ever
witless grunting foul vocular aberration
outside the roaring box of wet tinder
's a window slapping manacle
of steely girth. the sky's tongue
folds straightening air into the fat
oblong of the sea particularly
as probably i'm listening listlessly
to grand nothings plopping gently
from loose teeth grinding small
headed sally i'd could hardly say i care
Dec 9, 2010
Dec 9, 2010 at 11:16 AM UTC
a one dimensional
*** ***** brain
in a three dimensional hologram of consciousness
i am a dumb wind
a slouching mongrel soul
carved in corpusles
its twenty six dimensions stupid!
mind like a radish in a **** slum
inhabiting a no return winter
of hollow helled mountains
soon to be dead
like disappearing smoke
i hear my voice
trying to count its molecules
with a slathering tongue
needle numb
and a brocaded Vox throat of tears
while eyes plead floating
like cataract clouds
no
Shadrach Meshach and Abednego
shinning baptism ufo's
god ***** shimmering in space
no
no reality quotient here
in a fitted sim built blood machine
of flimsy bone locomotion's
looking for time slips
tormented
by lifes prodding night stick
in a distortion field
i turn the wheel of shapeless shadows
in Satan's mill
waiting dormant
****** and muzzled
in a 666 cosmic zip code
im just another
****** **** ***** Jew
************ ******
apple bend over
living to pay the ******* rent
in a house fallen before its built
panting staccato deja vu's
in a no return winter
of pandemonium
in this knot of blotting screams
i try desperately to levitate
from this spittoon of ascending ***** matter
here gold turns to chalk
and i'm always doing gods work
with the devils pride
like a bug in the grass
Jul 3, 2019
Jul 3, 2019 at 12:59 PM UTC
There was a smell
Of ***** in the air
There was an eye
Brown like ***** matter
There was a thought
About someone else’s 4 PM dump
There it was in my mind
As I was kissed for the very first time
Jul 19, 2012
Jul 19, 2012 at 1:35 AM UTC
Palestinian
children
and women
attempt to
protest apartheid,
fighting against
those borders and walls,
walking towards boundaries
where snipers sit
settled in
to shoot the innocent,
and continue
freedom's infringement.
Soldiers fire to take
the lives of those
they dehumanize.
Two thousand
are wounded
and fifty plus
dead.
My government is complicit
in these illicit
acts of violence.
We support and supply
the horrible ordinance
used to brutalize
and end those unfortunate lives.
Our politicians
spin blood red threads
into golden ***** lies
and celebrate the bad guys
who have no intention
of compromising,
the ones who
go on occupying
and terrorizing the Palestinian people.
Meanwhile,
state supported
media guys,
are televised
to tell us lies,
go on air
to share a side
that shames
and blames
the victims of
new atrocities,
by their favorite
allies,
repeating
reports of agitation
incited by
Hamas,
but no one on
the Israeli side
was wounded
or died.
Jul 12, 2018
Jul 12, 2018 at 10:39 AM UTC
I'm the *** gas blaster master
Spreading ***** matter like a natural disaster
Silent like a ninja leaving you no escape
This thick invisible cloud rolls across your face
Take a deep breath for a wif and a taste
Don't procrastinate or let this opportunity go to waste
Critic's say my rhyme sounds like ****
It's more like the precursor to the porcelain brown-eyed split
Rising up with the release of ****** heat
As it cools and falls back like a secondary treat
Your hand waves like a fan totally disgusted
Not considering the beneficial repercussions
Super charged positive bacteria increasing the diversity of your bio gut eco system
Scientifically proven to increase your mental health and overall physical condition
Think of it as a pharmaceutical emission
Relax and release the funk with a smile
No need to set yourself on a moral trial
Remember you are sharing little bits of me
Making the world a healthier place to be.
Apr 12, 2019
Apr 12, 2019 at 8:18 AM UTC