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"peed" poems
Once upon a harvest moon, a timid gnome encountered a boisterous baboon. “Whacha up to tonight?!” the baboon slurred, yelling loud enough that the whole town heard. ‘You got this man,’ the shy gnome thought, because for a baboon, she was kind of hot. “Not much, ya know,” stated the gnome, “I’ve just been hanging out at home.” “Well that ain’t fun!” the baboon cried, “You’ve gotta have fun, life’s supposed to be a crazy ride!” Embarrassed, the gnome replied with a fib, “Tonight was a fluke! I got out, I’m no Squib!” Laughing she stated, “I think you’re a liar.” “Oh really?” He retorted, “My pants aren’t on fire.” She laughed, “HA HA HA! Good one honey,” the baboon didn’t realize his joke was not funny. Drunk as a skunk, she had no clue, the meadow she was in was not Club Blue. The gnome, however, thought things were going well, trapped in the clutches of her womanly spell. Being a bit nerdy he didn’t get out much, the poor gnome had never even felt a woman’s touch. Feeling bolder he decided to take a chance, until he realized that the baboon had peed her pants.
0
Nov 4, 2012
Nov 4, 2012 at 10:35 PM UTC
Chance Encounters
I think there was something wrong with my bladder I noticed I was starting to *** a lot (Must have had an infection somewhere), It was like every thirty minutes I was going off to the loo At this rate I thought you'll have the handle of the loo worn off with all the toilet flushing you're doing, A little while later I'm out in my back garden walking, getting some air And there's this... there's this great big **** just growing there And I think to myself "I wonder what'd happen if I peed on that **** Would it **** it or have any effect on it' So I started peeing on the **** and you know strangely it starts to become this kind of obsession with me A kind of a scientific experiment, this peeing on the **** (Probably shows how empty my life is LoL) All through the day I go out to *** on my **** Even at night I go out with a flashlight just to *** on my **** And sure enough about a week and a half later The leaves their all starting to wilt, the whole plant just starts turning to mush Well that's quite a discovery I say to myself, *** it's a a potent weedkiller And then there's this other **** a different kind of **** and I start peeing on that one too And y'know the same thing happens After a week or two of being constantly peed upon The other **** starts to wilt as well turn to mush I'm suddenly reminded of the famous old scientist Issac Newton The guy who was out in his garden one day and got hit on the head with the apple and then invented gravity (What goes up must come down) "Well", I thought, "Issac you're not the only one who discovered something in his garden Us scientists, yea! we got to stick together, we're a rare breed altogether" Anyway awhile later I'm down the shop and I bump into this neighbour of mine He asks me 'Are you enjoying the lovely Spring weather ?' I told him I was, that it was lovely weather Then he asks 'Are you doing any Spring cleaning, that house of yours ?' I thought for a second, then said "Spring cleaning...Naw!" Then I smiled "But I have... I have been doing a spot of gardening though".
0
May 2, 2022
May 2, 2022 at 8:08 PM UTC
A Spot of Gardening
I think there was something wrong with my bladder I noticed I was starting to *** a lot (Must have had an infection somewhere), It was like every thirty minutes I was going off to the loo At this rate I thought you'll have the handle of the loo worn off with all the toilet flushing you're doing, A little while later I'm out in my back garden walking, getting some air And there's this... there's this great big **** just growing there And I think to myself "I wonder what'd happen if I peed on that **** Would it **** it or have any effect on it' So I started peeing on the **** and you know strangely it starts to become this kind of obsession with me A kind of a scientific experiment, this peeing on the **** (Probably shows how empty my life is LoL) All through the day I go out to *** on my **** Even at night I go out with a flashlight just to *** on my **** And sure enough about a week and a half later The leaves their all starting to wilt, the whole plant just starts turning to mush Well that's quite a discovery I say to myself, *** it's a a potent weedkiller And then there's this other **** a different kind of **** and I start peeing on that one too And y'know the same thing happens After a week or two of being constantly peed upon The other **** starts to wilt as well turn to mush I'm suddenly reminded of the famous old scientist Issac Newton The guy who was out in his garden one day and got hit on the head with the apple and then invented gravity (What goes up must come down) "Well", I thought, "Issac you're not the only one who discovered something in his garden Us scientists, yea! we got to stick together, we're a rare breed altogether" Anyway awhile later I'm down the shop and I bump into this neighbour of mine He asks me 'Are you enjoying the lovely Spring weather ?' I told him I was, that it was lovely weather Then he asks 'Are you doing any Spring cleaning, that house of yours ?' I thought for a second, then said "Spring cleaning...Naw!" Then I smiled "But I have... I have been doing a spot of gardening though".
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33
Ben Kowalewicz (spoken): Hi, my name is Ben Kowalewicz and this is Billy Talent. Well I tripped, I fell down naked I drank from a cup of lead I hugged a skunk, it peed on me Yesterday I joined Scientology Steal a Camaro, then **** Jack Sparrow Try stupid **** try stupid **** Jump in a dump truck, smell **** and get stuck I cannot read, I cannot read **** on computers, then drink some pewter Die sanity, die sanity Marry a cheapskate, gain ninety pounds weight I'm really dumb, I'm really dumb I'm stupid, it's my fault, so daft I like to play in the garbage shaft The best sport is Parkour, **** straight I arrive at work five hours late Drink a deep fryer, eat some barbed wire Try stupid **** try stupid **** Sleep in a fireplace, burn your entire face I cannot read, I cannot read Cinnamon challenge, go on a chalk binge Die sanity, Die sanity Bike into traffic, pose pornographic I'm a ******* I'm a ******* I ate some poo! I'm stupid, it's my fault Try I'm stupid, it's my fault Lie This bad song don't make sense Pie Get a Prince Albert, snake blood for dessert now? Drink some Everclear, cut off your own ear now? Go back in time to, forties as a Jew Try stupid **** try stupid **** Do *** and rip off your right knee I cannot read, I cannot read Find the KKK, put on some blackface Die sanity, die sanity Locate a pervert, then take off your shirt I am a twit, I am a twit I am a twit, I am a twit Try stupid **** try stupid **** I am a twit, I am a twit
0
May 27, 2012
May 27, 2012 at 6:15 PM UTC
Try Stupid **** a Billy Talent parody
Why is an old wrinkled ***** up Late as I am right now Down boy, we peed already Down.
0
Sep 18, 2015
Sep 18, 2015 at 12:12 AM UTC
Down ***** boy
*She was way too tough for me. no it's more I was not hard enough for her. The old ***** brick houses of Englands industrial north caught between industrial revolution and social unrest . I was just a youth back then. The big war fading from memory. I stopped at my friend's back yard it was a hot summer back then. His souped up bike was gleaming like a prize racehorse. She pulled a flask of ***** and took a long pull her bright red hair like glowing coal her eyes as black as darkness she was hard pretty. Her mini skirt flashing her shaply legs. a stray dog big and hard just like her. jumped up and licked her face. she Laughed they were like two kindred spirits like sisters by nature wild and drifting and free. She had *** with me the first time I met her and told me I was not rough enough for her. I just was a bit scared of telling her I wanted out of it. The kick-started bike roared like the steel lion it was. She squealed in delight. then the stray dog peed on the concrete. she lifted her skirts like the hard ***** she was and peed next to it. she jumped on the back of his bike and they went off at full speed. To test his bike out at the racetrack. I hear they shacked up together. and we're very happy. I dated a nerdy young woman quiet and conservative who became a librarian. We got married four years later. had two kids and a housetrained dog. She never once told me I was not rough enough in bed.*
0
Apr 1, 2016
Apr 1, 2016 at 3:49 PM UTC
Nerdy Jude and the motor bike mama.
Ni zindagi'ch aaja fer ni Zindagi'ch aaja fer ni Sathon russ gayi ae peed marjaani Zakhman nu fer chhil jaa Beh ja ankhiyan'ch ban ke paani Zindagi'ch aaja fer ni Vekh mere bul'chandre Fer hansde ne dard bhula ke Haaseya naal pawe aadiyan Dil honkeya ton ankh ji bacha ke haaye Fer mere muhre khad jaa Taza hoje koyi yaad ni purani Zindagi'ch aaja fer ni Sathon russ gayi ae peed marjaani Zakhman nu fer chhil jaa Peh ja ankhiyan'ch ban ke paani Zindagi'ch aaja fer ni Langh ja ni rooh vich di Agg fer ni lahu nu lag jaave Hathaan utte kar totka Meri zindagi di leek mitt jave haaye Ankhiyan'ch neend radke Ankhiyan'ch neend radke Langhe chees koyi haddan de thaa ni Zindagi'ch aaja fer ni Saathon russ gayi ae peed marjaani Zakhman nu fer chhil jaa Peh ja ankhiyan'ch ban ke paani Zindagi'ch aaja fer ni
0
Jun 26, 2018
Jun 26, 2018 at 7:47 AM UTC
Zindagi Ch aja fer ni
you never realize how significant a moment is until it becomes a memory good or bad, memories mark significance like the time you snuck out of your best friend's house you got stuck in the window and laughed so hard you peed your pants or the time you got out of the hospital the start of your life living with your sister at first, it was the best thing that could've happened until your happiness, once again, blackened and when you moved to your father's, the blackness began to diminish into pure white joy so many memories are stored in your brain so much happiness and so much pain like the day you wreck you mother's car compared to that day, you've come so far or the day your nephew Sammy was born you thought seeing your sister give birth would be the most awkward thing in the world but when you saw his head, suddenly he was the only thing in the world you have friends and family who care about you so much you're 16 years old, 17 in three months one year closer to 18 doesn't seem like much but soon you'll realize that your life is about to change someday you'll look back on this poem and when you do, hopefully you'll realize that your 16-year-old self wasn't all that broken
0
Mar 20, 2015
Mar 20, 2015 at 11:03 PM UTC
Poem To My Future Self
Let out my ego and sense of order this comes from beyond this comes from the me between me if I listen I may hear it speaking, it's sleeping but talking and rocking, not still, and perhaps it awakens, perhaps it will open its eye but we mustn't depend on the idea that once he has opened his eye the whole dream of the world will just fade like my dream tomorrow morning which I already know I'll forget, like specific angles and perspectives of specific places in space and time that have slipped away but once in a while break through to consciousness Like the sliding breakaway walls of Timber Drive elementary school Or the rippling pond into which I fell and the old smile and laugh of my flesh and blood rescued me and held my body afloat in the air for a moment; and once I was the proud owner of a wind powered hovercraft, another invention spilling out onto the table of attention like the actual pig intestines the popular girl's parents used in her science fair project, the one that dragged on until the last monkey refusing to be locked up with the windows 98s in the archaic computer lab was tranquilized and convulsed on the gym/cafeteria floor in front of the PTA, who'd peed blood all down the front of their sweatpants; he was firing wildly hoping to commit suicide by zookeeper Not knowing that humanitarian laws would prevent him from achieving his bliss, for the monkey knew as the Gnostics did that to bring a child into this black iron prison is a sin. Did the Jonestown Kool-aid free them from the prison? Do they now walk among gods within the kingdom of the heavenly spirit? None shall know until the 13 crystal skulls are re-assembled and total gnosis emanates to the people in globe-spanning shockwaves.
0
Nov 18, 2012
Nov 18, 2012 at 9:08 PM UTC
The Me Between Me
Let out my ego and sense of order this comes from beyond this comes from the me between me if I listen I may hear it speaking, it's sleeping but talking and rocking, not still, and perhaps it awakens, perhaps it will open its eye but we mustn't depend on the idea that once he has opened his eye the whole dream of the world will just fade like my dream tomorrow morning which I already know I'll forget, like specific angles and perspectives of specific places in space and time that have slipped away but once in a while break through to consciousness Like the sliding breakaway walls of Timber Drive elementary school Or the rippling pond into which I fell and the old smile and laugh of my flesh and blood rescued me and held my body afloat in the air for a moment; and once I was the proud owner of a wind powered hovercraft, another invention spilling out onto the table of attention like the actual pig intestines the popular girl's parents used in her science fair project, the one that dragged on until the last monkey refusing to be locked up with the windows 98s in the archaic computer lab was tranquilized and convulsed on the gym/cafeteria floor in front of the PTA, who'd peed blood all down the front of their sweatpants; he was firing wildly hoping to commit suicide by zookeeper Not knowing that humanitarian laws would prevent him from achieving his bliss, for the monkey knew as the Gnostics did that to bring a child into this black iron prison is a sin. Did the Jonestown Kool-aid free them from the prison? Do they now walk among gods within the kingdom of the heavenly spirit? None shall know until the 13 crystal skulls are re-assembled and total gnosis emanates to the people in globe-spanning shockwaves.
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5
My poor, stupid poodle, peed on the pedestal of Cleopatra's needle on Victoria embankment, near the Golden Jubilee bridge. ( Oh! I am miserable! I couldn't stop the debacle) The poodle's puny misdeed embarrassed not just me, but the whole city of Westminster, as fire alarm rang out loud, when an overzealous constable gave a distress signal. It brought the fire chief himself, who came rushing to meet the emergency situation, thinking the poodle was trying to put out a fire erupted on the ancient monument, once shipped to England, overcoming great adversities, from Africa, long back.
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Dec 17, 2012
Dec 17, 2012 at 11:31 PM UTC
The worst a doggie can do to Cleopatra.
Almost heaven, West Virginia Printed on mudflaps That reek of Appalachia It is almost heaven Not to have you Holding me back anymore It's almost heaven To forget your face Your stupid workouts The 300 ways you found To never say anything That pinched drawn unhappy look on your freckled face I feel grateful And I'm thankful To be a human again I hated the way your Silences sauntered into a room Ten minutes before you did I hated the way stale I love yous Hung around your head Buzzing like flies on the dead I hated the way dreams were something to be laughed at And subsequently given up on It's almost heaven to have mine back again I love the way you dumped me Through text Like a little kid Like Sorry this is what my mom wants Like Sorry not sorry I'm not sorry you left me It is almost heaven where I'm at now I peed outside twice In West Virginia And you weren't there to be embarassed By an Appalachian woman Who wants to have almost heaven Every day for breakfast And truly-loving-life-in-love-with-a-musician This is what heaven is Every day for lunch And maybe just beer and a song for dinner I'M SO HAPPY It's almost heaven not to have you It's heaven to feel alive again
0
Jun 9, 2013
Jun 9, 2013 at 10:24 PM UTC
West Virginia
The under shell of the tortoise looked like a sunset. Blasts of color: orange, maroon, burnt sienna. I caught them in the garden at sunrise, eating a tomato or chewing into a head of lettuce. They always looked so serious. I was just a sunburnt boy, with cutoff jeans and a straw hat. I caught toads too. But when they peed on me, I let them go. I loved that land. Ponds and streams, fishing and climbing trees. oh, sweet, green youth.
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Apr 29, 2023
Apr 29, 2023 at 11:44 AM UTC
Sweet, Green, Youth
Change in my pocket, but no charge in the socket. That’s where I use to be.                                               Heavily                                                               lost in a world that wasn’t mine. Committing sin and crime, more than this poems rhyme. Never did I wish to be                                         minus 6 feet in pine. At least,           that’s the lie I’ll stick by. Hurt every morning. Every night I then cry.                                                                                  Yet, back at it again in the AM. Liquor was certainly quicker and I never                                                               lost                                                               my                                                               buzz, but thank Godness it was, because much longer and I would’ve lost my cause. It was more than shaking paws. I was a slave.           And, alcohol was my master. Physically, I always drank faster. Mentally, there was too much cluster                      of self-pity and self-inflicted misery. Spiritually………………………………….sick. I far surpassed being a **** Pushed away even the biggest ***** Sure. Funny now,                        but then. No then.                                                         On the binge, waking up smelling                                                         of Monarch in the park.                                   Just the thought makes me cringe. I             Never                         Hit                                            bottom.                                                      I went through it. You name it, I’ve done it.                                 Peed my pants in a jail pit.                                                      Sick.                                 Struck my bestfriend with my mit.                                                       Sick.                                 Cheated, lied, and stole way more than a little bit.                                                       Sick.                                 Treated girls by the ease of their ****                                                        Sick. Yet. Yet.. Yet… Not once, did I think to quit. Nor, did I think I was fit                                             to be a respectable man. But, this life? This current life, was not my plan.                         This. This is someone else’s hand.                         This is metanoia.                                                              With it,                                                                        no more paranoia. No longer am I better or worse than. Today, I just am. I have a god I understand. I’ve made amends to the fam. I’ve seen my brother’s band. I don’t isolate like a clam. I’ve passed my graduate exam. I fall asleep without spinning like a fan. And, this story,                              I promise                                          is no scam. ♫♪I believe in miracles♫♪,                     because,               I’m a **** thing. A girl even accepted my ring, And I’ll admit, I’m not perfect. And as you heard, I can’t sing. But today, I do the next right thing.            I            try            to help others                                    learn to be brothers,                                               respect people of all colors,                                                           and to tolerate (yes! tolerate)                                                                                      even their mothers. My life is second to none, I finally found fun, and by grace hopefully, I’m not done. My acceptance is high and my expectations low. Today, I even try not to steal the show. But,         with this flow I think I’ve found my cause and that’s to hear your applause.
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Sep 7, 2018
Sep 7, 2018 at 2:23 PM UTC
Metanoia
Change in my pocket, but no charge in the socket. That’s where I use to be.                                               Heavily                                                               lost in a world that wasn’t mine. Committing sin and crime, more than this poems rhyme. Never did I wish to be                                         minus 6 feet in pine. At least,           that’s the lie I’ll stick by. Hurt every morning. Every night I then cry.                                                                                  Yet, back at it again in the AM. Liquor was certainly quicker and I never                                                               lost                                                               my                                                               buzz, but thank Godness it was, because much longer and I would’ve lost my cause. It was more than shaking paws. I was a slave.           And, alcohol was my master. Physically, I always drank faster. Mentally, there was too much cluster                      of self-pity and self-inflicted misery. Spiritually………………………………….sick. I far surpassed being a **** Pushed away even the biggest ***** Sure. Funny now,                        but then. No then.                                                         On the binge, waking up smelling                                                         of Monarch in the park.                                   Just the thought makes me cringe. I             Never                         Hit                                            bottom.                                                      I went through it. You name it, I’ve done it.                                 Peed my pants in a jail pit.                                                      Sick.                                 Struck my bestfriend with my mit.                                                       Sick.                                 Cheated, lied, and stole way more than a little bit.                                                       Sick.                                 Treated girls by the ease of their ****                                                        Sick. Yet. Yet.. Yet… Not once, did I think to quit. Nor, did I think I was fit                                             to be a respectable man. But, this life? This current life, was not my plan.                         This. This is someone else’s hand.                         This is metanoia.                                                              With it,                                                                        no more paranoia. No longer am I better or worse than. Today, I just am. I have a god I understand. I’ve made amends to the fam. I’ve seen my brother’s band. I don’t isolate like a clam. I’ve passed my graduate exam. I fall asleep without spinning like a fan. And, this story,                              I promise                                          is no scam. ♫♪I believe in miracles♫♪,                     because,               I’m a **** thing. A girl even accepted my ring, And I’ll admit, I’m not perfect. And as you heard, I can’t sing. But today, I do the next right thing.            I            try            to help others                                    learn to be brothers,                                               respect people of all colors,                                                           and to tolerate (yes! tolerate)                                                                                      even their mothers. My life is second to none, I finally found fun, and by grace hopefully, I’m not done. My acceptance is high and my expectations low. Today, I even try not to steal the show. But,         with this flow I think I’ve found my cause and that’s to hear your applause.
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102
I am a flower growing in the way of a footpath, from a crack in the pavement, dog *** human feet shuffling, bicycle tire spinning I am a sunflower, glowing in the morning light. through sparkling mist, which sits beside me, feeding me sweet nothings and soft droplets. I am a wild rose, my thorns are sharp, my petals are delicate. My roots reaching, so deep into the earth, yet the water has evaporated, even in those depths, my roots are cracking, my hips are drying out. I am a flower in the middle of a footpath, I have been trampled and I have been peed on and biked over. I am trying to stand up again. I am trying to stand up again.
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Mar 23, 2022
Mar 23, 2022 at 5:18 PM UTC
Flower on the Footpath
Met this easy chick that don't **** **** she a no brainer I said **** my duck and she said "What could be lamer?!" Defamed, I went home cried and smoked some ****** Watch teletubbies in my ****** like my last name was schiefer I went to bed and heard a scream like R.Kelly I peed my sheets Turns out the ****** was laced some sort of hallucinogen I'm worried that in my bloods a carcinogen decided not to worry cause whats the point We all die so chill and roll a joint
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Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 12:28 PM UTC
Realest talk
It was a magical summer. Lodi blared as fireflies glowed, leaves fluttered in the pure winds of those cool Georgian nights. We scared them foxes something good. You were classic in your favorite auto. They peed in their pants seeing a werewolf and me driving around the park in a beat-up Chevy Impala. You’re gone now, alcohol took you away. I still have the mask somewhere in a box. I sure miss you, those good times and Fogarty.
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Oct 28, 2013
Oct 28, 2013 at 3:09 PM UTC
Once, I Drove with a Werewolf in Georgia (A Reminisce)
I remember when the world was huge when my small town was all I knew I remember when I knew no worry and when I still knew you I remember the days of before before I could imagine a life complex I remember the days before I had to worry about life, love, loss and *** when falling in love happened on a weekly basis I remember when my fears were faceless I remember when time would pass so slow when hours felt like days sipping lemonade on the swings, in the summer's thick haze I remember the cool crisp mornings of September's first weeks and the hot afternoons reminiscent of summer walking home from school, longing for the beach I remember playing games, and doing cart wheels on the lawn when the leaves were all different colours and the snow forts I'd build after the leaves were gone I remember racing down the hill on sleds, crazy carpets, boxes; what ever we could find rushing home, after laughing till you almost peed your pants hoping you'd make it in time I remember being so happy, not a care in mind I remember being a kid, and growing up impossibly fast and having to say goodbye at the age of nine.
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Feb 26, 2011
Feb 26, 2011 at 2:19 AM UTC
Childhood Memories
Woe is me What have I seen The ****** dog peed All over my DVD machine Woe is me And twice woe I lost my balance And I stubbed my toe Woe is me It just isn't fair I looked in the mirror And saw I'm losing my hair Woe is me I hate my life I came home and found The milkman run off with my wife Woe is me I chased a mouse Knocked over the electric fire The curtains caught light and burnt down the house
0
Jul 15, 2010
Jul 15, 2010 at 10:18 PM UTC
244: Woe Is Me
i peed in the attic because the stairs creaked and your roommates were asleep your hair licked your earlobes and your mouth was rough
0
Feb 15, 2014
Feb 15, 2014 at 4:06 PM UTC
II (the lovers series)
So, you're sitting in a doctors room, wondering why you can't stop crying, When he enters saying"It's good news" a result from all that trying. In a haze you drive to tell your mum, she knows from the silly grin, And there and then, you buckle up, this journey is about to begin. So, vomiting and painful ******* and screaming at your husband, Is part and parcel to this little nightmare, nature calls pregnant. Oh, don't forget the stretchmarks, and the piles that grow like grapes, And mood swings, constipation, and eating sticky tape?!, And now you're halfway through your quest, you look so beautiful, Your hair and skin look radient, maintaining health is dutiful, Then little kicks bring on the tears as both of you embrace, And watching as the tv screen shows up a tiny face. As weeks turn into months, you begin the preparation, With practise runs for when its time to get to the nurses station. Your feet have disappeared from sight, no need for the nail clippers, And lack of sympathy from him, as your feet look like fluffy slippers. The lack of room within your womb means little or no sleep, The inability to get up, so give in, stay in the seat, So here we go, your waters break, and hubby thinks you've peed, You tell him"Get the car, or i will squash you like a seed!". The pleas for pain relief and stupid questions from the nurses, You try to answer politely, between the frequent curses, The final throes are happening, you're screaming like a pig, And out she comes, the miracle, "Oh look, isn't she big?!", Then suddenly all the pain and grief are suddenly forgotten, "A boy next" Those famous last words of your poor husband!
0
Nov 1, 2009
Nov 1, 2009 at 3:39 AM UTC
From 1 To 9
So, you're sitting in a doctors room, wondering why you can't stop crying, When he enters saying"It's good news" a result from all that trying. In a haze you drive to tell your mum, she knows from the silly grin, And there and then, you buckle up, this journey is about to begin. So, vomiting and painful ******* and screaming at your husband, Is part and parcel to this little nightmare, nature calls pregnant. Oh, don't forget the stretchmarks, and the piles that grow like grapes, And mood swings, constipation, and eating sticky tape?!, And now you're halfway through your quest, you look so beautiful, Your hair and skin look radient, maintaining health is dutiful, Then little kicks bring on the tears as both of you embrace, And watching as the tv screen shows up a tiny face. As weeks turn into months, you begin the preparation, With practise runs for when its time to get to the nurses station. Your feet have disappeared from sight, no need for the nail clippers, And lack of sympathy from him, as your feet look like fluffy slippers. The lack of room within your womb means little or no sleep, The inability to get up, so give in, stay in the seat, So here we go, your waters break, and hubby thinks you've peed, You tell him"Get the car, or i will squash you like a seed!". The pleas for pain relief and stupid questions from the nurses, You try to answer politely, between the frequent curses, The final throes are happening, you're screaming like a pig, And out she comes, the miracle, "Oh look, isn't she big?!", Then suddenly all the pain and grief are suddenly forgotten, "A boy next" Those famous last words of your poor husband!
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26
Janice adjusts the red beret on her fair hair and pulls at the hem of her dress as she sits on the wooden seat of the swing in the park. I sit on the swing next to her, ready to kick off, my feet on the tarmac, my eyes glued on her. She winces. Gran spanked me last night for saying that four letter word you taught me. You weren't supposed to tell your gran. You never said not to tell; I didn't know what it meant. Sorry, I should have told you. (I didn't know, but I don't tell her that). She pushes off with her feet and she's air borne; her sandalled feet high in the air as the swing goes backward then forward. I push off, too, holding tight to the steel links on each side of the swing. Maybe your gran should have washed your mouth out with soap instead of a spanking. I wish she had, too. My old man's aunt swears like a trooper; I used to go to Sunday tea with her and her husband and my Nan used to say: that's enough of that language, there's children present. What did did she say? They don't know what it means, she used to say; but Nan'd say, no, but they might repeat it to people who do. And did you? Janice asks. No, at least not if my parents were around. I am swinging higher than her now; my feet seem to reach the nearest clouds. She tries to swing higher, but I am still higher, by swinging backward and forward on the seat and the holding tight to steel links each side, I am up there with the gods. Have you ever been spanked? I look at her. Once when I peed in my toy box and my cousin told my mum. She pulls a face. How ***** of you. Yes, I guess; Mum thought so. I feel a breeze in my hair and face as I ride high, swinging back and forth on the swing. She's beside me trying hard to reach as high as I am; her feet reaching up, her legs swinging madly; her body going backward and forward; her red beret, clinging on for dear life on her head. I reach my maximum height; my feet touching Heaven's gates or so seems, my body going back and forth as much as it can. She’s almost there, smiling, the wind riding through her flowing fair hair.
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Dec 7, 2014
Dec 7, 2014 at 1:57 AM UTC
SWINGING WITH JANICE.
Janice adjusts the red beret on her fair hair and pulls at the hem of her dress as she sits on the wooden seat of the swing in the park. I sit on the swing next to her, ready to kick off, my feet on the tarmac, my eyes glued on her. She winces. Gran spanked me last night for saying that four letter word you taught me. You weren't supposed to tell your gran. You never said not to tell; I didn't know what it meant. Sorry, I should have told you. (I didn't know, but I don't tell her that). She pushes off with her feet and she's air borne; her sandalled feet high in the air as the swing goes backward then forward. I push off, too, holding tight to the steel links on each side of the swing. Maybe your gran should have washed your mouth out with soap instead of a spanking. I wish she had, too. My old man's aunt swears like a trooper; I used to go to Sunday tea with her and her husband and my Nan used to say: that's enough of that language, there's children present. What did did she say? They don't know what it means, she used to say; but Nan'd say, no, but they might repeat it to people who do. And did you? Janice asks. No, at least not if my parents were around. I am swinging higher than her now; my feet seem to reach the nearest clouds. She tries to swing higher, but I am still higher, by swinging backward and forward on the seat and the holding tight to steel links each side, I am up there with the gods. Have you ever been spanked? I look at her. Once when I peed in my toy box and my cousin told my mum. She pulls a face. How ***** of you. Yes, I guess; Mum thought so. I feel a breeze in my hair and face as I ride high, swinging back and forth on the swing. She's beside me trying hard to reach as high as I am; her feet reaching up, her legs swinging madly; her body going backward and forward; her red beret, clinging on for dear life on her head. I reach my maximum height; my feet touching Heaven's gates or so seems, my body going back and forth as much as it can. She’s almost there, smiling, the wind riding through her flowing fair hair.
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119
take me to a swimming pool that has not been peed in with no grass or dead wasps floating around my bare skin one newly installed that hasn't corroded yet take me to fresh snow that has never been walked in let me feel the crunch beneath my feet as i step into fresh turf and smile knowing that they are all my footprints knowing that i am the only one who has ever touched this ****** powder take me to a coffin that has never been opened a faceless, nameless beauty one that nobody else knows about and i will treasure it like it is my own because i am an old nobody, too
0
Sep 17, 2014
Sep 17, 2014 at 2:06 AM UTC
original poetry
While driving down a country road One dark and lonely night My engine began to spit and sputter From a strange and mysterious light I saw this little green spaceman With antennas on his head He was standing beside my window And this is what he said "Take me to your leader, Or we will end your life" So I did exactly what he said And I took him to my wife When I got home my wife was mad And asked me where I've been I told her about my crazy night And about those little green men She asked if I'd been drinking And I don't drink a drop About that time that spaceman yelled, "Okay now, everybody stop" Now my wife was really ****** And said, "Who do you think you are?" She grabbed him by his spaceman ear And drug him from that car Now, there she was in curlers With that spaceman by his ear I think he might have peed himself As he stood there in all his fear Now you may not believe my story But I've got a souvenir When they beamed that spaceman back to his ship My wife held on to his ear So if you ever see a UFO Don't scream and run for your life Just take him to your leader And by leader I mean, my wife
0
Oct 20, 2010
Oct 20, 2010 at 1:30 PM UTC
Take Me to Your Leader
There's a party around the block, Where flamingos run and eggs fall from upstairs. The roof is tumbling and the pool is overfilled with humans and animals, There's a zebra and ten monkeys running through the house. ****** *********** is rising everywhere, To the kitchen and the bathroom, to the backyard and the deck. Balloons are scattered on the floor, There's food fights in every room. There's a car crashed into the wall, People are running around in togas. The music is blasting through the glass windows, Everyone is jugging boos and sniffing toxins. The bonfire is sparking with Barbie doll heads, The smell of burning rubber spreads throughout the sky. People are wild with horse masks on their heads, They're fist pumping and thumping to the repeated beat. Males and females are racing around **** in the halls, Paint ***** and BB Guns are being fired on every window. Glasses of broken bottles are lost in couches and beds, People are swinging on chandeliers. The walls start to buckle and shake, Cops arrive but are being tazered with their own tazers. The house is being tee-peed, No one knows why the tub is on fire. The music starts to get louder every second, Tables and chairs are being thrown across the rooms. There are piggy back rides on the front lawn, Drug addicts are polluting the air with taboo smoke. People are sliding down the stairway with helmets and pillows, Many of the people are hung upside down unexpectedly. Girls get dragged into the bedrooms, Fights are happening here and there. Some people are passed out anywhere, Others are bungee jumping off the roof. Furniture is left outside, Lips are locking in the closet. Fireworks are going off while people are dunking their heads in water, Twerking is being done almost everywhere. The house is a total wreck, And the sun starts to rise over the horizon. I don't know about you, But this party was something new.
0
Jan 31, 2014
Jan 31, 2014 at 7:10 PM UTC
This Party
There's a party around the block, Where flamingos run and eggs fall from upstairs. The roof is tumbling and the pool is overfilled with humans and animals, There's a zebra and ten monkeys running through the house. ****** *********** is rising everywhere, To the kitchen and the bathroom, to the backyard and the deck. Balloons are scattered on the floor, There's food fights in every room. There's a car crashed into the wall, People are running around in togas. The music is blasting through the glass windows, Everyone is jugging boos and sniffing toxins. The bonfire is sparking with Barbie doll heads, The smell of burning rubber spreads throughout the sky. People are wild with horse masks on their heads, They're fist pumping and thumping to the repeated beat. Males and females are racing around **** in the halls, Paint ***** and BB Guns are being fired on every window. Glasses of broken bottles are lost in couches and beds, People are swinging on chandeliers. The walls start to buckle and shake, Cops arrive but are being tazered with their own tazers. The house is being tee-peed, No one knows why the tub is on fire. The music starts to get louder every second, Tables and chairs are being thrown across the rooms. There are piggy back rides on the front lawn, Drug addicts are polluting the air with taboo smoke. People are sliding down the stairway with helmets and pillows, Many of the people are hung upside down unexpectedly. Girls get dragged into the bedrooms, Fights are happening here and there. Some people are passed out anywhere, Others are bungee jumping off the roof. Furniture is left outside, Lips are locking in the closet. Fireworks are going off while people are dunking their heads in water, Twerking is being done almost everywhere. The house is a total wreck, And the sun starts to rise over the horizon. I don't know about you, But this party was something new.
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42
Its a silent chilly night Sitting here alone My boredom is maximum Decided I need a night out.. Perhaps just a walk and breathe some fresh air... Walking past the old museum A glimpse of an old man sitting on a chair... His shadow on the wall can tell Just how bored he must have been Working all night long.. especially on a chilly winter night I approach the old watchman Offers him a cigarette, It may sound crazy but I really need a company This Night watchman  says, quite surprisingly, " everything is quiet" too dead in the museum... as if he understands my curiosity about being a night watchman I don't need to probe more he says its too eerie in the inside surrounded with a hundred to 800 years old artifacts and some classic works of dead artists I work for the pay... he says... I don't need to protect the antiques.. To this I am quite amazed... but he says, " at night when everything is dark and quiet" the museum comes to life... my heart beats faster to this... a real creepy story.. he is telling me.. He admits having difficulty to breathe when he sees all the musical instruments played by themselves one night... when he tried to run... all doors are locked by themselves he even peed in his pants watching all the statues dancing and partying in every floors of this very very old museum a spooky place... yes... ghostly spirits yes... name it.. he says "I have met them all" and even shake hands with them every night... I have cold sweats... I have goosebumps... I ask him whether he'd like a tuna sandwich I'd go and buy them and come back for more chats with him Its 3 am and I am listening to all these horror stories from an old night watchman... He agrees for the offer of sandwich and demands for a black coffee too... I runs to the nearest Seven Eleven and returns as soon as possible... I am standing here now in front of the old museum with sandwich and coffee in my hand... The Night watchman isn't there anymore... he just disappears... Curiosity makes me come back the very next day only to find out.. the Night watchman I talked to ... and smoked with... has passed away a year ago... what an eerie feeling... I just had an interview with  a dead Night watchman...
0
Jul 2, 2013
Jul 2, 2013 at 12:38 PM UTC
An Interview with a Night Watchman
Its a silent chilly night Sitting here alone My boredom is maximum Decided I need a night out.. Perhaps just a walk and breathe some fresh air... Walking past the old museum A glimpse of an old man sitting on a chair... His shadow on the wall can tell Just how bored he must have been Working all night long.. especially on a chilly winter night I approach the old watchman Offers him a cigarette, It may sound crazy but I really need a company This Night watchman  says, quite surprisingly, " everything is quiet" too dead in the museum... as if he understands my curiosity about being a night watchman I don't need to probe more he says its too eerie in the inside surrounded with a hundred to 800 years old artifacts and some classic works of dead artists I work for the pay... he says... I don't need to protect the antiques.. To this I am quite amazed... but he says, " at night when everything is dark and quiet" the museum comes to life... my heart beats faster to this... a real creepy story.. he is telling me.. He admits having difficulty to breathe when he sees all the musical instruments played by themselves one night... when he tried to run... all doors are locked by themselves he even peed in his pants watching all the statues dancing and partying in every floors of this very very old museum a spooky place... yes... ghostly spirits yes... name it.. he says "I have met them all" and even shake hands with them every night... I have cold sweats... I have goosebumps... I ask him whether he'd like a tuna sandwich I'd go and buy them and come back for more chats with him Its 3 am and I am listening to all these horror stories from an old night watchman... He agrees for the offer of sandwich and demands for a black coffee too... I runs to the nearest Seven Eleven and returns as soon as possible... I am standing here now in front of the old museum with sandwich and coffee in my hand... The Night watchman isn't there anymore... he just disappears... Curiosity makes me come back the very next day only to find out.. the Night watchman I talked to ... and smoked with... has passed away a year ago... what an eerie feeling... I just had an interview with  a dead Night watchman...
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