"pigsty" poems
Eat it up while you can, pig!
Your future's looking grim.
Head down in a pig trough,
spilling at the brim.
Farmer stands with his shotgun.
That look is in his eye.
You're squealin' now like a loose wheel,
wishin' you could fly.
Running 'round in the pigsty.
**** stains on your pig chin.
Fear keepin' your eyes wide.
Crawlin' out of your pig skin.
Eat it all while you can, pig!
And don't forget to chew!
The dinner bell's a-ringin'
and we've got plans for you!
Jan 18, 2021
Jan 18, 2021 at 1:08 PM UTC
Does this make me look
Deeper, more intellectual
Perhaps I'm a Sylvia Plath
Poems emerging out of me due
To the pigsty of a brain I've obtained
Or even I'm Emily Dickinson
I'll lock these god forsaken poems up
Only to be discovered after
I have died.
Having once again the chance to
Become immortal, post mortem
All due to the poems I thought
Were ****
I'll just keep writing.
I won't write for the sake of calling
Myself a Writer
But because I can forever exist, to forever be.
All of the personal pronouns constantly
Utilized in these writings evoke a
Feeling of self-hatred out of
My own narcissism,
What else did Emily Dickinson accomplish
That was impressive, before dying?
Simply she died, writing with until her old wrinkled hands
gave out
the pen fell.
May 17, 2013
May 17, 2013 at 2:13 AM UTC
The whole condo is full of Doritos.
It smells like a dentist's office, only
without any pretense of dentistry.
All assumptions aside, I plug my nose.
Crunching under my feet, the cheese meadows
spread the carpet's sprawl. Who'd live in this place?
I compose myself, set my briefcase
down, crunch through the living room. *Who knows?
This is ******* gross. Out of these condos
this one's the very worst.* A baby's cry
emanates through this urban pigsty.
I peer into a room and...baby toes? --
baby toes! -- peeking from mounds of crushed cheese!
Why do these crack heads keep having babies?
Jul 27, 2013
Jul 27, 2013 at 6:37 PM UTC
"I tell you I won't have this room!" snorted the aristocratic lady to the bellboy who was conducting her. "I refuse to pay decent money for a pigsty such as this! If you think-"
Profoundly disgusted, the boy interrupted. "Get in, mum. Get in! This ain't yer room. Can't ya see it's an eluvateer?"
Jun 10, 2013
Jun 10, 2013 at 1:05 PM UTC
"There's no more time left, for you and I.
It's time to say our final goodbye.
To a love that was once so fly.
Covered by your clever lies.
You have been my only ally;
Always on my heart’s standby.
Who knew it would cause us to cry.
I can't imagine myself without you, will I yearn to die?
Please don't ask me why.
It's probably because your record is so **** high.
So high, I just want to give you a black eye.
Maybe then you can see that you’re living like a pigsty.
With all your past lovers knocking on your door, so you can continue to whisper your lies.
But the thing is I feel like I need you more than pizza needs fungi.
I want to hear you voice every time you sing that lullaby.
Maybe this is all a nightmare, how I wish I can deny,
But it is all reality and reality says I need you like a flower needs a butterfly.
My eyes refuse to open, to see the truth. Someone please tell me it’s only pinkeye.
What am I to do? Without you I’m as lonely as a slice of fish fry pie.
Everything would be easier if I could find my simple love ending nearby.
You had me around you like a necktie.
Thinking I was your only one in this world of outcry.
How I wish your playmates would go away, so we can be sworn together, sometime next decade’s July.
I know, I’ll just wait until my memories of you die,
Because I simply realized, you’re just another typical guy.
Not worth any of my SIGHS.”
-LC
July 24th, 2009
Apr 19, 2012
Apr 19, 2012 at 7:52 PM UTC
My life is a proverbial pigsty,
A ***** place.
And all I need is your love,
To cleanse me.
To purify me.
And to make me squeal.
Aug 23, 2016
Aug 23, 2016 at 11:54 PM UTC
I can hardly remember your face,
left here in a chair,
room aglow with the muted television,
drunk as hell.
A man becomes a pigsty without a woman.
***** stains on the sports sock,
a battleaxe hangover,
bills piled by the toaster
and **** over the kitchen sink.
The bailiffs came.
I cried like a child through the burglary,
drank the Ganges in stout when it was over.
I have been drinking ever since
the Christmas lights turned on,
the town bathed in absinthe, teenage smokers,
Lithuanian women;
no chance of collision with you.
Eternal ashtray, brick upon brick,
cylindrical beams - an empire of ash
and odour. I can't smell you anymore.
How senses die, yet you remain,
stubborn as a **** on a concrete street,
stubborn in your deceit,
my old crutch, my faded ***** in heat.
I am a mess of old exchanges
whilst porn-stars **** on screen.
Fantasy is dead
as my first dog, defunct,
birthing colonies beneath the ground,
frozen over in winter.
I feel nothing. No thing.
Urges clamour for attention to keep me alive,
vague hunger, the need to bleed.
The paramedics came.
I cried like a child through the gift-wrapping,
drank from a plastic cup as they covered your face.
I can hardly form a sentence
in this fast world
of slow days and long aches in silence:
this is hell.
A man becomes a pigsty without a woman.
I see you in my ridiculous moments,
the insanity that stands in your place,
fractured light in the doorway-
my obsessive state, your forgotten face.
Jan 13, 2015
Jan 13, 2015 at 12:04 PM UTC
Alexander k Opicho
(Eldoret, Kenya;[email protected])
Of Orwell George and his satirical 1984
Manufacturing words abracadabra and demagogic phrases
Making juvenile English to swell in size and all
Beyond Shakespearean bossom of a teen African woman
Forming ubiquitous the double-speak whose
Attendant ****** sisters of England are
Double talk, double talk, and double smile
Who said the suavity in double love and double cross are
The twin progenitors of Eric Blair the farmer of animals
Collaborating with Jones to sleep in the pigsty where swines mate
Plummaging the world with plethorae of yutopianisism
Wherein glorious big brothers watch you African double speakers
As you sheepishly Sleigh international criminal justice in a beautiful ploy
To obfuscate mellifluous bambinos off the buffoonery powers that be
But When 1984 comes after a full circle of idiosyncrancies, the fools will be seen
Dec 14, 2013
Dec 14, 2013 at 4:17 AM UTC
A cluttered artifact,
I look at it.
Pens, papers, memories.
"unorganized... a mess... disgusting... a pigsty"
My feelings bubble.
No,
none of those things.
Only just... pieces of me.
I don't want to be a rigid, ordered desk,
I like the way I am:
crazy and a mess.
Dec 3, 2014
Dec 3, 2014 at 10:42 PM UTC
https://www.reverbnation.com/quirky/song/26489987-pigsty-beg-my-pardon
Pigsty (Beg My Pardon)
even in my darkest nights
I could see the light of day
even at dizzy heights
I could focus on the *****
when I was down
there was always an upside
I could always turn a
frown into a smile
when I'm digging
down in the garden
I'm aware
it's a pigsty
beg my pardon
Aug 18, 2016
Aug 18, 2016 at 7:38 AM UTC
*i never understood why a Don Giovanni or a Anaïs Nin would write a book... i guess it was partly because they were trying to extinguish that thing of Sinai that Moses spoke to... but the public rekindles the jealous flame by claiming them to be fictional... truth be told i don't think Solomon's harem was smaller than a pigsty of any wealthy baron, i don't like keeping an innocent eye on things: it was as it was... my hand might have the stamina, but my torso wouldn't, anyway... i'm still surprised that such eventful lives would require a book... esp. a book dealing with no ideas, but past experiences... whereas the reader of each of such works just says: you need a psychotherapist... you need a psychotherapist... a thought ****** a thought ******
my life? the only interesting things about it
are encapsulated in the hours from ~11p.m. to ~4p.m.,
that's when i drink and unwind...
i wouldn't dare to write had i an interesting life,
i have a boring life and my motto stands firm:
if you have an interesting life, don't bother.
you won't hurt me, you'll hurt yourself
having to digress into these pits of ashen-waiting-lines,
no one will wet a finger for speed allowing you
to be a real page-turner that easily,
you had that in life, don't come here among
the putrid stenches of what-could-have-been
or should-have-been, don't cremate the thought
that gave you vitality, as you can already see,
modern day celebrities write books via ghostwriters
to make a profit, not a bedtime story seance,
the story is: i showed my **** i sold lingerie,
i might have topped that economic policy off with
a perfume brand... and you wonder...
why Zimbabwe, given all this... success?
celebrity culture is nothing more than c.c.t.v. culture;
what a horrid world we seem to inhabit.
Jul 1, 2016
Jul 1, 2016 at 8:55 PM UTC
fastened our minds to the oar,
and we fastened our minds to the sail -
spoke closer of home from far away
than it was spoken of as neighbours' might
and did - waxed prodding from the sirens'
wail, and those that did not hear it,
were worth a pigsty and Circe's salivation -
so thus Odysseus, unlike Eiríkr ᚦ-/-Þorvaldsson
kept reminded of a jargon of poets -
who too would escape the Minotaur's jaw
clinging shut, had the opportunity provided itself;
Circe's saliva as poets' blood-worth-of-ink,
that too, is something worth a mention;
but of course the reminder: had it happened -
but it didn't - never after the before
the already felt, skin peppered or salted with
itchy northern wind to seek out an expression of smile
being encountered.
Jul 7, 2016
Jul 7, 2016 at 10:27 PM UTC
Somehow over these few years, we'll get by
When the country has dumped Trump. Once and for all, "Goodbye!"
Someday after The Don goes, skies turn blue
Night screams and all those sweat soaked dreams really don't come true
I pray each night upon a star
To wake up where this Devil's far behind me
Where MAGA Hats and Orange Hair Tops
Away! Like 70's Flip-Flops
That's so fine by me
Some say over this next year, Pigs Will Fly
Pigs Fly over this next year,
Then we'll clean up Trump's Pigsty
If Donald Trump sprouts wings to fly
Beyond all rainbows,
We'll hose down his Stiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiy
Jan 14, 2018
Jan 14, 2018 at 9:02 PM UTC
or is it, will it grow some more come october?
the drive is easy, flat, up and down quite stately,
neat stripes, well nearly.
little lawn by the pigsty , a bit rough, no problem.
the lower, is sloping with little paths and mole bumps.
we start off buzzing, then the engine steaming,
we pause, gather breathe push on, ankles bending.
was this such a great idea? looks good on completion.
friends came, admired the dresses, do you wear them?
no not really, they are just part of the furnishings.
i am not quite that tiny.
sbm.
Sep 27, 2015
Sep 27, 2015 at 1:07 AM UTC
I see you as you're watching me
Catching every detail as you view so carefully.
Your eyes are glued to my every move as you observe so attentively.
Everything I do and say
you study it throughout the day.
You see Me when I cry
Even when you try not to pry.
When the tears begin fall and You're asking me, "WHY?
And mommy please don't lie.
There's something wrong and this you can't hide."
So this was my Reply,
"My life feels like a pigsty
no matter how hard I tried.
Times when to you I just try to advise and emphasize
not taking the time to understand how you feel inside.
That's why we didn't see Eye to eye and I always ended up feeling like the bad guy.
Sweetie pie,
your behaviors I cannot justify
but there are Rules and regulations that we must abide by.
On me you must rely
No I don't have the answers to everything
But this much I can testify and bring
all I have is my heart and love as an offering.
I pray that You love me just as much as I love you.
There's so many things that I've gotten use to that you have seemed to outgrew.
There's things that I'd wish I could undo.
So many things I want to tell you.
Things we haven't even gotten to do.
Our love has been proven to be tride and true.
*** I Need a tissue
I think we just had a breakthrough.
Because the bond between you and I is better than Wi-Fi.
This much I can verify
That Mommy loves her little ones, all you littles wise guys.
I love being being a mother fervently
Because you guys bring out the best in me.
Personally,
I enjoy watching you watching me so
Observantly.
Sep 15, 2016
Sep 15, 2016 at 10:35 PM UTC