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Paul Butters Jun 2017
Who needs terrorists?
They are redundant
When over 60 poor people
Can perish
In a raging inferno
Caused by their own council.

For years the resident action group
Were poo pooed by the authorities
With, “Don’t worry your pretty heads!”
When they warned about fire safety regulations
Being ignored
Just like them.

No sprinklers and only one fire escape
In a twenty four storey building.
Only last year the tower was refurbished
With cheap plastic cladding that’s
Banned in the USA.

Our prime minister has been accused
Of failing to show humanity
By only visiting the Emergency Services
To avoid the angry public.

All this has happened
Not in some God forsaken third world country
But in the fifth or sixth richest economy
In the world.

For sure, that all engulfing tower-fire
Has made the blood of the people
Boil.
Let’s hope this volcano does not erupt
Like the one that caused
The London Riots of 2011.
Let’s hope our administration
At all its levels
Learns something from this:
To Care for its People.

Paul Butters
My sympathies are with all those affected by this.
Sam Temple May 2016
Let us consider
The walrus and the carpenter
And the plight of poor
Mother oyster and her babes
To be eaten
To be digested
To be pooed
This is the way of the farm oyster
Cultivated lovingly
For mass consumption
By those with the taste
For salty snot ***** –
The time has come to speak of other things
Like clams, and *****
Lobster and squid
Octopi and the urchin
Jellyfish smeared
On fish pate
Spoken how it is spelled
Fish pate on a date
Seems great unless grated
Or outdated…
Just leave it on the plate
Pate on a plate
For goodness sake
Kaloo Kalay
Fishing is work
Just ask the learning channel
The history channel
Animal planet
OPB
ABC
Fox will tell you it’s easy
But seriously,
What does the fox say –
I sit at work
Longing to be as the walrus
Do a little ocean fishing
And have a bit of a bake
But alas,
Kaloo
Kalay
Cabbages and Kings
Sometimes have to work –
Christian Jan 2011
it´s like water spilling from a leaky floorboard and your stuck in the basement.
it´s like asphalt thats too hot and you forgot your shoes at home.
it´s like the baby just pooed and it ain´t your baby, still its gotta be changed.
it´s like the wrong ***** for the right screwdriver.
it´s like a cold winters day in skinny jeans, no room for longjohns,
or a bird ******* in your hair
or carolers caroling
or kids screaming
or a broken heart and you dont know why it broke.

it´s the song that wont stop singing itself inside your head because somehow it knows you need work letting go.

hey, song, go **** yourself.

cause I´m tired of being reminded I´m no good.
cause I´m tired of feeling no good.
cause I´m tired of having dams for eyes.
cause I´m tired of being the same.

maybe its learning to rest more so I´m no longer tired of trying.
cause I´m tired of sitting on my ***,
doing nothing, about something, which is me.
Sam Temple Apr 2016
rudely intruding on my stellar mood
the thought occurs I need some food
at the risk of coming across mean or crude
the entire process feels to me lewd
as if I were a wild horse forced to be shoed
or stuck in a clown suit living fancy dude
I hope to make this clear and not be too *****
there are few things in life I despise like food

the very idea I am forced to stop and eat
you might as well tell me they are going to cut off my feet
in modern society there’s no way to be discrete
and in all actuality it’s the only way to be complete
whether vegan for life or a lover of meat
salted pork sandwich or a bite from a beet
both can be smothered in a sauce of mesquite
and with the right olives you can be transported to Crete

yes, the woes are so great when stuffing one’s face
like a hog you slop food all over the place
sit there grinning what a total disgrace
I bet you’d eat dog **** covered in mace
if deep fried and plated with a creamy white glaze
eating so fast you can’t even taste
no thought for the starving with flies on their face
you throw scraps away like there’s no such thing as waste

gaining and sweating getting terribly fat
eating mayonnaise straight from the vat
got too excited in the kitchen and swallowed the cat
one time on vacation you ate two whole rats
imagine the horror of something like that
so fat that when sleeping you need a C-pap
machine on your face to keep open the flap
you need for breathing because you got so ****** fat

I am too guilty of being a fat ****
I have lost 70 pounds and some pants still don’t fit
look at my chest and see hairy man ***
makes me so ******* mad I start throwing a fit
but it can only be my fault when really looking at it
is eating too many sweets really worth all this ****
making me feel such an ****** drooling cross-eyed old ***
falling and floundering in a self-pity pit

but I broke free and took control of the food
no longer eat gravy which used to be glued
to my ribs and my gut while growing me *****
and fell out of my bowels each time I pooed
too much sugar creating bad attitude
and helping me to stay locked in my room
a room on the inside of my body that cooed
for the release from the trap of over processed food
poetry month prompt 6
David Ehrgott Nov 2014
Mary had a little lamb
She loved to run her fingers through its hair
Ooh, so smooth she would coo
Until the day it pooed in her shoe
Eew, lamb stew
(any resemblance between this poem,
and living persons...iz purely coincidental.)

Ruthlessly abuzz in my mind
     loosed another idea
     for a poem asper
(wren) this wordsmith
    first awoke as if this burr
bull ling gray matter of mine cur
rage Hesse lee
     nearly figuratively drowned

     awash with psychedelic fur,
and by an inexplicable fate
     while holed up
     like an atheist fox in
     metaphorical imaginary Alsace
Lorraine booth them
     aye hands needed to brace
against being whip lashed

     compromising meat, who
     cut to the chase
hurriedly beef ****
     twittering black crows didst erase
finding yours truly short shrift head
     aghast count tin ants
     (marching one by one hoorah...)
     etching mortality against

     (hill reed) duff
     figurative staring in face
o' mine, yet with chutzpah, fortitude,
     and intrepid amazing grace
did man age with the likes
     of one named Horace
aye trumpeted (while donning
     sateen pink “i hate gull

     hubble buoys” frilly lace)
to quickly (in
     quasi Jackson *******)
     slap dash nod duh
     soundcloud issued munitions along
     Somme hum battle
     creek King Kong a mace
swing change of

     good fortune did
(Patton Lee) didst
     Rob Zombie place
pitting (and/or pitying)
     a critical (Weeknd updated) race
against father time hood
     handily did trace,
what appeared tubby my bloom

ming dog gone cat tis strophic
     (through-composed) doom
suddenly by quirk
     of poetic license
     of Matthew Scott Harris
     did suddenly groom
salvation when suddenly out of
     the thick (smoky intermittently clear

mountain) thin air
(Ta DaVinci) Vita man arrived
     juiced in the nick
     (knack paddy whack...a mole)
     of mere minutes to spare,
whence immediately after veer
really gulping, (nee
     emptying) a multi year

supply - downing entire contents lear
rook hilly visibly rippling trachea
     (tricky ya) ying ma ha ha
     esophagus of pill furred
     (courtesy of peristalsis)
essential (placebo) body
     mineral nutriments dare
ring (ala Popeye

     The Sailor Man)
     dozen plus bottled
     blithely ignoring skull and
     cross bones (bier) beware,
when instantaneously
     muscles bulged nsync
     as nostril didst flair
visa discover ring how

     whipping, shaking, and
     lashing my wet hair
(actually no Chuck -
     wag'n - Norse lie)
my **** thud used to dry
sham pooed thinning mane -
     jar - yea...yea...go head 'n jeer

at this peculiarity of mine
e'en if bald, aye would boldly,
     (sans this creature
     of habit) shake pate
     gnome hatter how queer!
I wanted her to be
Cookie Monster for Halloween
But the idea was soon poo pooed
By all who are in my team
Apparently everyone thinks
Girls' costumes must come in pinks

— The End —