"shat" poems
I was walking down the street
Had an urge to *****
Saw a ***** dumpster
this looks nicer than the girl I dumped'r
I unzipped my pants
shat on the plants
got nice and hard
and shot off harder than a pornstar.
**** THAT DIDN'T RHYME)
I have too much time
because all I do is shoot slime
all over the back
of a president who is black.
I like *****
I bang *****
I make them ***
faster than a game of putt putt.
****** I CANT ******* RHYME)
All of you poetry snobs
are more stupid than calvin and hobbes
You will never be as successful as
Steve Jobs.
End of story. Because I am about to write another ****** poem.
Jun 15, 2014
Jun 15, 2014 at 4:06 PM UTC
phantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmal
phantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmal
phantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmal
phantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmal
phantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmal
phantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmal
phantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmal
phantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmal
phantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmal
phantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmal
phantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmal
phantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmal
phantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmal
phantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmal
Asphalt Man
Phantasm La
Shaman Plat
Asthma Plan
****** Hast
****** Hats
****** Shat
Napalms Hat
Plasma Than
Sampan Halt
Sampan Lath
Manta Plash
A Plasma Nth
A Ham Plants
A Hams Plant
A Mash Plant
A Sham Plant
A Maths Plan
A Math Plans
A Than Palms
A Than Lamps
A Than Psalm
Aha Plant Ms
Alpha Tan Ms
Alpha Ant Ms
Lama Pas Nth
Lama Asp Nth
Lama Spa Nth
Lama Sap Nth
Lamas Pa Nth
**** Path Ms
**** Phat Ms
Natal Hap Ms
Alas Amp Nth
Alas Map Nth
Ha Lam Pants
Ha Palm Tans
Ha Palm Ants
Ha Lamp Tans
Ha Lamp Ants
Ha Palms Tan
Ha Palms Ant
Ha Lamps Tan
Ha Lamps Ant
Ha Psalm Tan
Ha Psalm Ant
Ha Lams Pant
Ha Alms Pant
Ha Slam Pant
Ha Malts Nap
Ha Malts Pan
Ha Malt Pans
Ha Malt Snap
Ha Malt Naps
Ha Malt Span
Ha Plan Tams
Ha Plan Mast
Ha Plan Mats
Ha Plans Tam
Ha Plans Mat
Ha Plants Ma
Ha Plants Am
Ha Plant Sam
Ha Plant Mas
Ha Slant Amp
Ha Slant Map
Ha Splat Man
Ha Plats Man
Ha Plat Mans
Ah Lam Pants
Ah Palm Tans
Ah Palm Ants
Ah Lamp Tans
Ah Lamp Ants
Ah Palms Tan
Ah Palms Ant
Ah Lamps Tan
Ah Lamps Ant
Ah Psalm Tan
Ah Psalm Ant
Ah Lams Pant
Ah Alms Pant
Ah Slam Pant
Ah Malts Nap
Ah Malts Pan
Ah Malt Pans
Ah Malt Snap
Ah Malt Naps
Ah Malt Span
Ah Plan Tams
Ah Plan Mast
Ah Plan Mats
Ah Plans Tam
Ah Plans Mat
Ah Plants Ma
Ah Plants Am
Ah Plant Sam
Ah Plant Mas
Ah Slant Amp
Ah Slant Map
Ah Splat Man
Ah Plats Man
Ah Plat Mans
Plash Ma Tan
Plash Ma Ant
Plash Am Tan
Plash Am Ant
Plash Man At
Plash Tam An
Plash Mat An
Lash Ma Pant
Lash Am Pant
Lash Man Tap
Lash Man Apt
Lash Man Pat
Lash Amp Tan
Lash Amp Ant
Lash Map Tan
Lash Map Ant
Lash Tamp An
Lash Tam Nap
Lash Tam Pan
Lash Mat Nap
Lash Mat Pan
Laths Ma Nap
Laths Ma Pan
Laths Am Nap
Laths Am Pan
Laths Man Pa
Laths Amp An
Laths Map An
Halts Ma Nap
Halts Ma Pan
Halts Am Nap
Halts Am Pan
Halts Man Pa
Halts Amp An
Halts Map An
Shalt Ma Nap
Shalt Ma Pan
Shalt Am Nap
Shalt Am Pan
Shalt Man Pa
Shalt Amp An
Shalt Map An
Halt Ma Pans
Halt Ma Snap
Halt Ma Naps
Halt Ma Span
Halt Am Pans
Halt Am Snap
Halt Am Naps
Halt Am Span
Halt Man Pas
Halt Man Asp
Halt Man Spa
Halt Man Sap
Halt Mans Pa
Halt Amp San
Halt Map San
Halt Maps An
Halt Amps An
Halt Sam Nap
Halt Sam Pan
Halt Mas Nap
Halt Mas Pan
Lath Ma Pans
Lath Ma Snap
Lath Ma Naps
Lath Ma Span
Lath Am Pans
Lath Am Snap
Lath Am Naps
Lath Am Span
Lath Man Pas
Lath Man Asp
Lath Man Spa
Lath Man Sap
Lath Mans Pa
Lath Amp San
Lath Map San
Lath Maps An
Lath Amps An
Lath Sam Nap
Lath Sam Pan
Lath Mas Nap
Lath Mas Pan
Ham La Pants
Ham Plan Sat
Ham Plans At
Ham Plant As
Ham Slant Pa
Ham Alp Tans
Ham Alp Ants
Ham Lap Tans
Ham Lap Ants
Ham Pal Tans
Ham Pal Ants
Ham Laps Tan
Ham Laps Ant
Ham Pals Tan
Ham Pals Ant
Ham Alps Tan
Ham Alps Ant
Ham Slap Tan
Ham Slap Ant
Ham Splat An
Ham Plats An
Ham Plat San
Ham Las Pant
Ham Slat Nap
Ham Slat Pan
Ham Salt Nap
Ham Salt Pan
Ham Last Nap
Ham Last Pan
Hams La Pant
Hams Plan At
Hams Alp Tan
Hams Alp Ant
Hams Lap Tan
Hams Lap Ant
Hams Pal Tan
Hams Pal Ant
Hams Plat An
Mash La Pant
Mash Plan At
Mash Alp Tan
Mash Alp Ant
Mash Lap Tan
Mash Lap Ant
Mash Pal Tan
Mash Pal Ant
Mash Plat An
Sham La Pant
Sham Plan At
Sham Alp Tan
Sham Alp Ant
Sham Lap Tan
Sham Lap Ant
Sham Pal Tan
Sham Pal Ant
Sham Plat An
Maths La Nap
Maths La Pan
Maths Alp An
Maths Lap An
Maths Pal An
Math La Pans
Math La Snap
Math La Naps
Math La Span
Math Plan As
Math Alp San
Math Lap San
Math Pal San
Math Laps An
Math Pals An
Math Alps An
Math Slap An
Math Las Nap
Math Las Pan
Than La Maps
Than La Amps
Than Lam Pas
Than Lam Asp
Than Lam Spa
Than Lam Sap
Than Palm As
Than Lamp As
Than Lams Pa
Than Alms Pa
Than Slam Pa
Than Alp Sam
Than Alp Mas
Than Lap Sam
Than Lap Mas
Than Pal Sam
Than Pal Mas
Than Laps Ma
Than Laps Am
Than Pals Ma
Than Pals Am
Than Alps Ma
Than Alps Am
Than Slap Ma
Than Slap Am
Than Las Amp
Than Las Map
Hap Lam Tans
Hap Lam Ants
Hap Lams Tan
Hap Lams Ant
Hap Alms Tan
Hap Alms Ant
Hap Slam Tan
Hap Slam Ant
Hap Malts An
Hap Malt San
Hap Slant Ma
Hap Slant Am
Hap Slat Man
Hap Salt Man
Hap Last Man
Hasp Lam Tan
Hasp Lam Ant
Hasp Malt An
Haps Lam Tan
Haps Lam Ant
Haps Malt An
Paths La Man
Paths Lam An
Staph La Man
Staph Lam An
Path La Mans
Path Lam San
Path Lams An
Path Alms An
Path Slam An
Path Las Man
Phat La Mans
Phat Lam San
Phat Lams An
Phat Alms An
Phat Slam An
Phat Las Man
Has Lam Pant
Has Palm Tan
Has Palm Ant
Has Lamp Tan
Has Lamp Ant
Has Malt Nap
Has Malt Pan
Has Plan Tam
Has Plan Mat
Has Plant Ma
Has Plant Am
Has Plat Man
Ash Lam Pant
Ash Palm Tan
Ash Palm Ant
Ash Lamp Tan
Ash Lamp Ant
Ash Malt Nap
Ash Malt Pan
Ash Plan Tam
Ash Plan Mat
Ash Plant Ma
Ash Plant Am
Ash Plat Man
Hast Lam Nap
Hast Lam Pan
Hast Palm An
Hast Lamp An
Hast Plan Ma
Hast Plan Am
Hast Alp Man
Hast Lap Man
Hast Pal Man
Hats Lam Nap
Hats Lam Pan
Hats Palm An
Hats Lamp An
Hats Plan Ma
Hats Plan Am
Hats Alp Man
Hats Lap Man
Hats Pal Man
Shat Lam Nap
Shat Lam Pan
Shat Palm An
Shat Lamp An
Shat Plan Ma
Shat Plan Am
Shat Alp Man
Shat Lap Man
Shat Pal Man
Hat Lam Pans
Hat Lam Snap
Hat Lam Naps
Hat Lam Span
Hat Palm San
Hat Lamp San
Hat Palms An
Hat Lamps An
Hat Psalm An
Hat Lams Nap
Hat Lams Pan
Hat Alms Nap
Hat Alms Pan
Hat Slam Nap
Hat Slam Pan
Hat Plan Sam
Hat Plan Mas
Hat Plans Ma
Hat Plans Am
Hat Alp Mans
Hat Lap Mans
Hat Pal Mans
Hat Laps Man
Hat Pals Man
Hat Alps Man
Hat Slap Man
A Ha Plant Ms
A Ah Plant Ms
A Halt Nap Ms
A Halt Pan Ms
A Lath Nap Ms
A Lath Pan Ms
A Than Alp Ms
A Than Lap Ms
A Than Pal Ms
A Hat Plan Ms
A La Maps Nth
A La Amps Nth
A Lam Pas Nth
A Lam Asp Nth
A Lam Spa Nth
A Lam Sap Nth
A Palm As Nth
A Lamp As Nth
A Lams Pa Nth
A Alms Pa Nth
A Slam Pa Nth
A Alp Sam Nth
A Alp Mas Nth
A Lap Sam Nth
A Lap Mas Nth
A Pal Sam Nth
A Pal Mas Nth
A Laps Ma Nth
A Laps Am Nth
A Pals Ma Nth
A Pals Am Nth
A Alps Ma Nth
A Alps Am Nth
A Slap Ma Nth
A Slap Am Nth
A Las Amp Nth
A Las Map Nth
Ha La Pant Ms
Ha Plan At Ms
Ha Alp Tan Ms
Ha Alp Ant Ms
Ha Lap Tan Ms
Ha Lap Ant Ms
Ha Pal Tan Ms
Ha Pal Ant Ms
Ha Plat An Ms
Ah La Pant Ms
Ah Plan At Ms
Ah Alp Tan Ms
Ah Alp Ant Ms
Ah Lap Tan Ms
Ah Lap Ant Ms
Ah Pal Tan Ms
Ah Pal Ant Ms
Ah Plat An Ms
Halt An Pa Ms
Lath An Pa Ms
Than La Pa Ms
Hap La Tan Ms
Hap La Ant Ms
Path La An Ms
Phat La An Ms
Hat La Nap Ms
Hat La Pan Ms
Hat Alp An Ms
Hat Lap An Ms
Hat Pal An Ms
La Ma Pas Nth
La Ma Asp Nth
La Ma Spa Nth
La Ma Sap Nth
La Am Pas Nth
La Am Asp Nth
La Am Spa Nth
La Am Sap Nth
La Amp As Nth
La Map As Nth
La Sam Pa Nth
La Mas Pa Nth
Lam Pa As Nth
Alp Ma As Nth
Alp Am As Nth
Lap Ma As Nth
Lap Am As Nth
Pal Ma As Nth
Pal Am As Nth
Las Ma Pa Nth
Las Am Pa Nth
A La Pa Nth Ms
Oct 15, 2015
Oct 15, 2015 at 9:05 AM UTC
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
New words in old styles
Tracked on a canvas of brick
By a precocious kid
Sneaking on the lines;
The little *****
My morning art show
Laid out in illiterate words,
Scribbled by artists
Who failed art at school,
Then shat on by birds.
An exhibition of names
Written worryingly wrong,
Evident to the system
That failed before they
Even joined the throng.
We pause at one piece
Daubed in indelible paint,
White streaked on black,
A chaotic sprawl of letters,
**** al saintz".
I've been there before;
A nice school I thought,
Catholic of course;
I doubt the child gave
The saints a spare thought.
And what about Al?
Does he care at all?
Does he pause here,
On his way to work,
And dream their downfall.
It drives me up the wall
To see tracks filled with art,
But are they to blame?
We let them loose
And they play their part.
Mar 23, 2015
Mar 23, 2015 at 3:35 PM UTC
Pizza is my life
I started out as dough with doughy eyes
Mother picks me up
Mother molds me
After no time at all I'm sent down the line
Toppings...
Things other people want but I get
By the end the toppings are as important as the dough
Sometimes I wonder if there was any dough to begin with
Because the foundation is changed so much by the fires of the oven
The chaos makes me steam, bubble, and boil
Once I simmer down I'm recognizable as what I should be but not what I once was
Now that I'm developed it's time to be delivered into the world
And find my own home
But what will I find when I get there?
Will it be love?
Or will I be ate up and shat out?
Or is there a difference?
May 22, 2017
May 22, 2017 at 1:28 PM UTC
waste matter discharged from the mother's bowels; feces,
excreta, stools, droppings; waste matter,
ordure, dung; **** poo, dirt, turds, ****
"cleaning up ferret excrement":
mid 16th century: from French excrément
or Latin excrementum, from excernere ‘to sift out’ feces;
act of defecating;
a contemptible or worthless person;
something worthless; garbage; nonsense;
"this book is **** unpleasant experiences
or treatment; "I went through a lot of **** last year"
things or stuff, especially personal belongings;
"he left all his **** in my apartment"
events or circumstances;
_"some crazy **** went down last night"_
any psychoactive drug, especially marijuana [the good ****
good **** verb: **** 3rd person present: *****
past tense: ******* past participle: *******
past tense: **** past participle: **** past tense: shat;
past participle: shat; gerund or present participle: ********
expel feces from the body,
soiling one's clothes as a result;
expelling feces accidentally; very frightened.
tease or try to deceive someone or thing.
"I **** you not" exclamation
exclamation: ****
[exclamation of disgust, anger, or annoyance]
Old English scitte ‘diarrhea,’ of Germanic origin;
related to Dutch schijten, German scheissen [verb];
_The term was originally neutral and used without ****** connotation_;
*********** from Greek κόπρος,
kópros—excrement & φιλία, philía—
liking, fondness, also called scatophilia
or **** [Greek: σκατά, skatá-feces],
is the paraphilia involving
****** arousal & pleasure
from specific feces;
meanly, his mother said, _u can drink my ***
but don't eat my **** then she ****
& *** & the boy drank but when
he put the warm **** to his mouth,
she slapped it out of his hand &
yelled, I told u not to eat my ****
& the boy began to cry & feeling
bad his mother turned to let him lick
the bowl & rim the moist wet hole between
her pudgy cheeks & then gave him more
of her tangy *** to drink like lemonade
& chocolate chips, sometimes it was
more like sweet sherbet; but she never
hit him again & he's been eating her ****
ever since; now, his wife lets him drink
her *** & he eats from the baby's *****
Aug 31, 2018
Aug 31, 2018 at 12:38 AM UTC
We are the stars that you ignore in search for brighter lights to guide you home
Safe and warm and ignorant you stay
We were the children born from orchids, into a meadow
and our lives have dried up, weeds thriving on our desperate longing for home
The only music we hear are the sounds of death: gunshots and screams
the genre that only people who have a warm smile to come home to can listen to at a music store
We are the people of Palestine, Syria, Egypt, Libya, The Congo, Haiti, India, Bangladesh, North Korea
The diaspora who no longer have roots anywhere on earth
we have been dug up and shat out by the soil that we sprung from
Our kin have scratched blood from our skin
We are the forgotten, the avoidees, the people who make you uncomfortable
who force you to leave your little world so painstakingly built for you to live in and die as a result of
Go, live the lives you were destined for while we dream of them
Go, have the freedom you think you have and we think we will get
We are goldfish in a bowl that has never been cleaned
We will never escape
Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 2:52 PM UTC
hands upon the door
to the cell phone store
I had an awful sore
in my heart and core
something I'm mad at
before the phone shat
something like ****
that some cat spat
so I rant at the gal
even her pal
and the guy Al
who give's a hal?
"The phone's inferior
Where's your superior?
I'll rip him a new interior!
You're all about exterior."
"Look at me when I speak.
or are you too weak?
Talking while you tweet
Look at me when you speak"
what's with this culture?
digital gone vulture
your phone like a suture
trying to mend the future
"Sorry if I got all hot.
Diplomatic I am not.
Had to rant and shout
get the dysfunction out."
"Your phone hurt my ear
The speaker on too near.
On this much I am clear
Your phone hurt my ear."
Jul 21, 2015
Jul 21, 2015 at 7:48 PM UTC
B-E-N-J-I
Come on you're way outta line
Hey, Hey
Say Hey
Out on the foreshore
Looking for some more Y'all
Come on you *****
Get out on the dance floor
Call for some more Y'all
Take me to the mall
Thinking bout you walking down the hall
For sure
Hey give me that
Picking up that shat
Put it under the mat
Ha...Ha, **** That!
I ain't no gangsta
Just a Prankster
Just wanna thank ya
For listening to my crap ya
Gotcha in the middle bit
Working for a Lil bit
Did ya see that ***
Y'all gotta go
Y'all wanna know
Where do I come from
Where is ma show
Yo Gotta Know
Yeah I Love you to
Playing it single
Looking for some insults
Running from my result
Of being an adult
Just wanna let you know
I think ya mums a ***
Oh, oh **** ya wanna blow
I'll show you where to go
There he is now you know
Ya ******* wanna throw a punch
But I'll eat ya for ma lunch
Come on bring me down
And I'll take you downtown
Oh No what the **** you know
Ya know nothing and that's how it goes
Whoa, whoa!
Back up the chorus
It's not all for us
It's all for one
But I'm not done yall
I ain't no gangsta
Just a Prankster
Just wanna thank ya
For listening to my crap ya
Gotcha in the middle bit
Working for a Lil bit
Did ya see that ***
Y'all gotta go
Y'all wanna know
Where do I come from
Where is ma show
Yo Gotta Know
Yeah I Love you to
They call me Benny
Just got change from a twenty
Y'all know so many
Wanna get me
But now you see
They all wanna leave
Because I ain't all that great
But still, they wait
Another rhyme on my hands
But I can't defend
Every man on this
God Forsaken Land
Show Me Where
I can put ma hands
On ya body
Can't touch me
I ain't no gangsta
Just a Prankster
Just wanna thank ya
For listening to my crap ya
Gotcha in the middle bit
Working for a Lil bit
Did ya see that ***
Y'all gotta go
Y'all wanna know
Where do I come from
Where is ma show
Yo Gotta Know
Yeah I Love you to
One More Time Y'all
One for the money
Two for the show
Three to get ready
And **** you to
I ain't no gangsta
Just a Prankster
Just wanna thank ya
For listening to my crap ya
Gotcha in the middle bit
Working for a Lil bit
Did ya see that ***
Y'all gotta go
Y'all wanna know
Where do I come from
Where is ma show
Yo Gotta Know
Yeah I Love you to
©2017 Written By Benji James
Jun 14, 2017
Jun 14, 2017 at 5:04 AM UTC
Rich shat
in chair
and spat
the mail
with a
bogey and
they wept
over my
gracious note
they even
returned my
stamp yesterday
noon unread
not denied
appeal from
sunshine in
my heart.
Jan 29, 2017
Jan 29, 2017 at 7:56 AM UTC
I was given, at my first birthday party,
a gift sublime, a lovely, lush garden
I played among its fonts and flowers,
traded baseball cards with Atlas and Athena,
rolled in high grass with iridescent dragons
Then one fine day through leaflets high,
I spied a fat juicy fig, haloed by Summer sun
The tree was poison, I knew, its sweet fruit
most likely bad as well, but in my arrogance
I climbed the trunk, got tangled in its branches
I lost control, lost something never truly held,
and fell, through viney snarls and vicious thorns
Fell farther than I ever rose, to putrid death,
moldered slime beneath the canopy
of verdant paradise on gentle hillside above
I crawled about in mud and earthen warrens
Slowly, year by year, learned to walk again
But arrogant I remained—had not my
lesson learned, and so I doubled-down,
made mockery of this chance for redemption
All the sweet virgins did I **** and teach
our children sin, in crystalline waters
I did shat on mulched fields, amber and green,
with cigarette butts and baggies blowing
listless on Autumn winds
When Winter finally came, as winters must,
to **** off weakened souls, and make
the garden ready for new attendants,
I did not learn, I did not take the blame...
It's Him, I cried, I have not power to do this!
But then my youngest daughter sobbed
She watched, sadly, out clouded, grimy windows
and, looking up at my limpid, sullen eyes
crawled into my arms one last, lonely time
to face what I could not...
Behold, the Silent Spring
Aug 19, 2014
Aug 19, 2014 at 11:16 AM UTC
**** you out
Your broken beliefs
Your desire to extinguish the very thing that makes me me...
**** you out
Your empty words
Your fraying suit
Your fear...
**** you out
Your insistence to destroy anything that makes us happy and human
**** you out
Your dangerous perception that in order to protect a child you must never become one again...
Which leads to suppression, self-harm, oppression, augmentation and homogenisation...
And when the whole world has shat you out
Showed you that they won’t be controlled anymore by your projection...
Yes, when you’ve truly ****** your freedom -
Who will you turn to?
When even your inner child has closed the door on the monster you’ve become...
**** you’re so out.
Aug 20, 2025
Aug 20, 2025 at 7:49 PM UTC
This poem is about a night out on the beer which almost went horribly
wrong
I put out my hand and touched the face of God,
. . .bit of a surprise, really, I was expecting my Hod.
Lying on the floor, thinking it was my bed,
Coated in ***** face down, arms spread.
I've ****** my trousers, shat my keks,
A natural reaction, to twenty three pints of Becks.
Stumbling through Cambridge, I can't find the Site,
I know it's around here, first left or third right. . .
Crashing through hedges, I've forgot how to walk,
I can't ask for directions, I'm unable to talk.
So, I'll go no further, here I'll sit tight,
Sneak back to the caravan, when dawn sheds her light.
I didn't feel the cold, the damp creeping through,
Best shirt, Purple Chino's and I'm missing a shoe.
It's my dancing outfit, for impressing and posing,
Ideal for the Nightclub, not alfresco dozing.
The temperature plummets, I'm giving it "Big Zeds"
Dreams of warm women and petal-strewn beds,
Breathing gets shorter, body starts to shut down,
I'm sweating buckets, beginning to drown.
Ronnie, the Night-watchman, knows I must be in trouble,
In an hour and a half, I'm due back on the shovel,
To keep the lads happy, with bricks and fresh Pug
And barrows of concrete, poured into trenches I dug.
Under an Elm Tree, thirty yards from the job,
Ronnie catches sight of this prone Northern yob.
He doesn't panic, just yet, he knows what to do,
He's seen it before, when a body turns blue.
Those First-Aid Classes, when he told us he was fishing. . .
Vital signs are checked, I'm in the Recovery Position.
Ron holds my nose, lifts my head off the floor,
. . .then he kissed me , in a way , that I'd never been kissed before.
Feb 14, 2016
Feb 14, 2016 at 9:14 AM UTC
I was burning a cigarette down
when the stomach cramps struck.
So I ran to the bathroom and
spouted methane gas from my ***
then shat out four beers
and nine shots of brandy.
The tip of my smoke glowed
bright orange and ignited
my feces, blowing everything
to kingdom come.
I found peace there,
mixed in with blood and ****
Apr 19, 2015
Apr 19, 2015 at 12:11 AM UTC
drink pour drink
lacking love I sink
swimming in the pink
my soul is stretching for the leek
the thing I want I'm doomed to want
if ever id had it, id have at least lost
but never at all not for lack of trying
meany a time offered out to be cried in
any time other its *** or its sin
unlovable or am I looked down upon
some god picked me to frown upon
some life randomly to be shat upon
unneeded my outdated satyricon
Faust verily howbeit parfay
whilom methinks maugre swoopstake
twixt speed and sweven, swink eke teen
mayhap afore alack fore fie
clepe gardyloo thole
whosoever sith wist whereof speed
Jan 25, 2013
Jan 25, 2013 at 12:00 AM UTC
Everything for everyone
Nothing left for me
I speak to walls
My voice makes zombies
My life, unrecognizable
Broken by family
My love has twisted all my hopes and dreams
A cracked shell of shards
Remnants of what happy was
Before I realized I was happy
Used up, worn out, and discarded
There is only so much trying
There are only so many tears
My pain is not yours to take
My crazy is no one else's burden
Open and empty carcass
Picked clean by harsh words
Not even my pain is my own
Claimed by others to fuel their anger
Their growing hatred
All I did was love
Now I'm lost eternally
Alone surrounded by people
No trust, not for my broken innards
No comfort, no solace
I am chewed up and shat out
Invisible and inconsequential
I am alone in a house full of people
Where only I say "I love you"
Where only I need more
I need purpose
I need to be free to feel what I feel
Now, with that freedom removed permanently,
How can the status quo remain
I, once filled with love, am empty
Eyes dulled
Mind devoid of substance
Heart as cold as a glacier
A shell, numb to the outside
Motions without thought
Time drudges on
Drained of everything
My last breath, too, goes unnoticed
Sep 21, 2010
Sep 21, 2010 at 6:33 AM UTC
King Arthur the great, a man to be noted,
head of the table, of greatness t'is coated,
slayer of dragons, killer of kings,
***** of brats and fellater of things.
After a triumphant skirmish, which Arthur did lead,
it was decided he'd celebrate in his great hall of mead.
One of his councilmen, being ever so corny,
decided to throw old Arthur an ****
he rallied his men,
about a hundred and ten,
and proved to Arthur that they were quite *****
He yanked Arthur's hair,
thrashed his fine heir,
and while in the process, he was not far from bare.
He spread Arthur's *** and shoved in his large diaphragm,
then threw in his huge **** and yelled "Here comes the leviathan!"
He thrusted and pounded then started to moan,
he ****** on his ******* and continued to bone.
The councilman, not satisfied, pulled out his large knife,
his eyes were bloodshot , his **** was his life.
He stared at Arthur's *** crack, it looked rather thin,
he carved it and sliced it then shoved it back in.
He looked into Arthur's eyes and said he wont waste,
he told all his men to **** with such haste.
Not one hole was spared, his nostrils were bleeding,
he turned at the councilman and asked for a beating.
The councilman nodded and with such a strange grin,
put it in Arthur's mouth, t'is no mere sin.
He slapped it, shook it and cried for power,
the gods must have heard him, his men started to cower.
He screamed and yelled as he let out his gravy,
he licked Arthur's eyes and cried "too bad theirs no baby!"
Arthur's eyes turned red, mad with such rage,
he snapped off his **** and thrashed the old sage.
He ripped out his stomach and had it ****** clean,
he shat on the sack and ****** on his spleen.
He stripped off his shirt and threw him on a bed,
then blasted a load, my word he was dead!
he ******* the mans carcass and licked his curved spine,
he exploded with power and yelled "By God it is time!"
And with a snap of his fingers the man turned to dust,
Arthur then cackled "well he earned my trust".
Jan 16, 2013
Jan 16, 2013 at 5:44 AM UTC
Looking at pain
From the inside out
Stepping off steep
Into an unknown, falling
Loose and tightly wound
At once
In one
Spinning straight-line lies
Wanting them to be true
From here to there exists
No mess between
No life
No humanity
No mess
Only simple
Straight-line lives
Like the heartbeats of our politicians
Got no room for deviation into mountains
Down to earth
Got no time for beats and bravery
Floating on in mediocracy
No, democracy
My mistake
Found a word and made it look
Like cool
Made it sound like hope
Made it work like ****
To cover up the sins of what was truth
Not pure or real
But what was on
Got hammering down
Got seeping in
Got on with getting on
Dig pocks in Devon and call it progress
Take chunks of the mama and look surprised
As she spits us all out from her centre
You, me and everyone who had no idea
Who sat behind their 5 mile screen and said
**** happens
When it was about the starvation
And said
More’s the pity
When it was about monstrosity
And said
Gotta be thankful
When it was about the tanks and the bombs and the guns
In some other guys garden
And screamed
What the **** is going on here
With tears and snot and terror all over their tan-stained brows
When the phone broke
And the plane was late
And the dog shat
And the restaurant ran out of hors de ******* oeuvres.
It’s a ******* sin, that’s what it is
To call yourself a restaurant and not have what’s on the ******* menu.
A ******* sin.
The world’s gone to ******* ruin.
Buy me Barrack Obama and let’s call it evens.
Nov 15, 2012
Nov 15, 2012 at 1:11 PM UTC
Yes it's true, our love is so very young
still though, my body longers for you near.
For Cupid has shot his quiver arrow and has stung.
I fear I have feelings, I just can not bear.
My heart , still dallies with my innocencence
Yet, so I wish to still lose my Virginaty
My mouth just will not give concent
no concent, cause of immaturity?
Even though I just cann't give my concent,
For sure, my young heart would be in pure bliss
though I still long to lose my innocences,
from the start, I've wanted more than a kiss
my innocence override my passion,
love nor *** shat ruin my purity.
P.L.M (12-14-92)
P.L.M
English Period: F (12-14-92)
Placed upon my pillow on 12-15-92 and still to this day we are still joined as one!
Dec 21, 2012
Dec 21, 2012 at 1:37 PM UTC
Super Moon!
Oh, Super Moon!
Why have you forsaken my paralysis?
Why have you come from beneath Cloud Mountain only to breach my inhibition?
So that I may melt into the grass?
So that I may be the leach of this girl?
So that I may repair the ill tidings I shat out a fortnight ago?
People say a full moon makes us
Crazy. Because seventy percent of
Our brain is composed of water we
Convulse into a Jack the Ripper of
Sorts. I’ll tell you I’d rather be a
William McCarty Jr., sly as a cat I
Could escape this prison without a
Word to anyone. Then you can make
Your bones into Tally Sticks so that
You might keep track of the days
Until I’ve slain my last.
Jan 25, 2013
Jan 25, 2013 at 12:56 PM UTC
time it is
she beckoned
time and I ate of it
the dread
the matter of her
no kiss of her
from her
honestly
no doubt, I knew...
it was dinner time
"eat me"
she labored
as dog in heat
spread her legs
as on stirrups
I be, the muzzle be her divorce from me
yank my collar, chain wrapped
about her hand
beckon me
"eat"
chain be her love I desire
collar be my patience given
but appetite?
mine be love
her beest pleasure
I have no appetite for
merely
pleasure
neither hers nor mine
sans love?
no appetite at all have I
eyes so weary of wanting
that I melt
as Salvador Dali prophesied
mine eyes droop
her thighs
wet my fantasies
as ice cream, on the hottest Sunday,
I am weak
weary of denying myself her
she, a mere rainforest of beauty
abundant in plural, though singular
her flower
droop me 'tween mine legs
raise me, as the dawn rises zenithly,
she pies me,
my piper, my charmed being
I'm pied
she has me
dancing, midriffly, with ****** fervor
mine eyes cast down
as shadow in sunset
lone tree in the wilderness
redfern shadow
a mile long
mine eyes cast down between her legs
seeing all my heart's desires
"eat"
and all my hopes dieth there
"eat"
despair, I mourn
I pine
"love me"
I opine, my lover love me
be not pleasure the measure of our stay, in bed, this Sunday
love me, as the Father hath given us this day
be not Eve of the forbidden love
be Dawn of the day we won eternal life from the devil's death
that my fruit be of your nectar drunk, that I be your pleasure,
and you be mine
that I succor thine fruit
hour by hour that you writhe
not as snake but as mountain shook
as mountain moved
faithfully, you love me,
let that fantasy be mine drink
and thine offering due my thirst
that love sate me,
nay?!
"eat!"
and all the world looketh empty of light
"eat! **** you"
and all the world be afright with wonder that I be man, yet, eat not my ****** that
she be heathen of love, still, my ****** she be,
simply,
that mine eyes drink her in
beauty beyond compare
but that mine ears deceive me not
for deceive me, her flesh does
but her forked tongue
as lightning streak
she shat the bed
that streak be her ****** blessing
dashed across her whorish ways
be that time
I linger in wait
wanting, but that I eat
she trappeth me
that all I be good for
is her pleasure
but be not fit
for her love
"eat! what are you good for?!"
nay, irony be that
time told
clock struck truth
"eat!"
nay
"what my flesh be, here, then?"
a trap,
and I say nay
for I be a lover
of such supple,
gorgeous,
womanly flesh, not, merely,
a ******
"eat"
I be not hungry,
for a *****
my flesh be purchased
but nay that my heart he purchased
neither my soul,
by merely, lust
I, too dearly, pine for you
dream of you
romance you deeper than form
and fit
time
and merciless pleasure
to be,
of you,
lustfully...
so, I say,
nay...
but,
that ye should, learn love me
perhaps,
that day
perhaps
then, yay
Mar 13, 2025
Mar 13, 2025 at 1:45 PM UTC
Dearest Brother,
I took a walk today. As I strolled along the trail I admired the leaves that hung aloft
with their colors of brillent reds, yellows, orange, pale green, and light browns.
The fallen leaves crunched beneath my feet as I climbed ever higher up the
winding trail.
I stopped. I shat in the woods.
I walked on.
I was lulled to a peaceful bliss by the birds chirping as they sang their last
songs of the season, while a soft breeze tickled across my skin.
I saw a grey black puff among the leaves that I gently nudged with my toe.
It was a tuft of fur that had loosed and raised away from the carcass of a mole,
whose body had been eaten away by maggots.
I walked on.
As the winds blew and the leaves fell, I was forced to notice the aching in my
bones. Like a dagger stabbing into my heart I realized that the summer of our
youth was, forever gone.
I walked on.
Consuming with my eyes and ears the beauty of the autumn leaves and the
melodies of the lovely little song birds, I pondered the thought that as this
season is nearing the end, so too am I.
And yet, I walked on.
How soon the sweet little song birds will have flown away to a warmer place.
The trees that stand so tall and proud wearing their colorful leaves like cloaks
of royalty will soon stand naked and cold surrounded by rot and decay.
So my dearest brother, if by chance upon this trail you should trod, and find
that I too have fallen amongst the debris of the season, roll me over, turn
my eyes to the sky.
And walk on.
Let the crows pluck the eyes from my skull, and upon my flesh the maggots
feast. What bones are not carried away by the beasts may they remain to be
swallowed by the growth of the next season.
For I, will have walked on.
Oct 4, 2012
Oct 4, 2012 at 2:08 PM UTC
i feel sick
more sick
than i have in a long time
and i don't just mean
with myself
though
that sickness
is ever present
i mean
the back of my throat
feels like donald trump
cut off his ********
and shoved it down there.
and
my head feels fuzzy
and full
of water
like vertigo
without the dizziness.
i am cold
but i am not cold.
yet to me
the way my body feels
finally matches
the way i feel
inside
i need to finish closing this bookstore
i need to go home
to my bed
to my family
to people who love me
but this bookstore
is the only place that feels like home
besides inside your arms
in your bed
which, metaphorically,
i shat in.
today
i googled
how to buy cyanide
and got angry
at the website
for not giving me better directions
on how to **** myself.
sometimes
there are people who enter your life
for whatever reason
and if god were real,
they would be angels.
one of them
today
gave me a reason to live.
he told me to keep writing
and i did
even if it's just me
typing
with tears streaming down my face
but it helps
it makes me not feel so alone
it gives me something to do
when i am lonely
and when i don't feel whole
instead of searching for my own inner peace
in strangers eyes.
the second angel
i met today,
they left a comment
on a piece of my writing
telling me
it brought them empathy,
and understanding
to a negative part of their life.
now, if i am a horrible person
and i don't see a point
to life
to being in debt
to being depressed
to hurting others
to hating myself
and everything around me
well, it makes it all worth it
if ridding this negativity
through words
can somehow
bring positive light
to somebody else.
somebody better than me.
i will write
and i will continue to write
until i die
from either somebody killing me
or natural causes
i will not
take my own life
not for the sole reason
that it would actually break my mothers heart
and she is too kind of a person
to deal with that
but because
my pain
becomes someone else's
closure
because
negativity
can become positive
if you transfer the power.
because
music
art
and
literature
are the only things worth living for
and the only things
that anyone ever
needs
as a reason to live.
thank you.
Feb 16, 2016
Feb 16, 2016 at 9:26 PM UTC
for V,
who commissioned me,
Nay,
Dared Me,
sometime ago
to write a ***** poem
You know V?
The one poet who wrote:
*The anxious tide within my head
was put there by the moon,
the ocean too, its waves of blue,
respond to what she says*
Or
*The moon is alive and effeminate,
pulls on us, pushes on us,
at least on us who call her mother,
and though she shines her sweet shine
her soul is as cold and indifferent as
the belly of a black hole,
and we will war with her influence
all the days of our life.*
well compared to that,
writing something shat
should be
Easy
well I'm sorta sure
something can be
found easy enough
to fill the bill,
such a command
inherent demands
careful consideration,
a ***** poem,
not easy to come by,
every fiber resistant,
but you judge,
as you always do
Option #1
**What makes a good poem?
what makes me so
succumbed to my own surety,
my bold audacity to dare judge
is simple rooted:
slapped and gasped,
verbal issuance of ooh's and aah's
from eyes, my utter everything,
teared and torn, cleansed and aroused,
into a poetry world,
this my one my house of worship,
my real religion
when I read good works,
like those of the moon's misbegotten,
Mr. V,
then I am grounded,
kneed in the groin of the head,
and I thank god really,
for gifting me the body
prepared and ready
to say I love those
who love words
with ready ease
and let this be my
simplest, cleanest, beloved
tribute poem ever I writ,
my claim to a
PhD in poetry criticism**
Option #2
I am mad
cause I am sad
my roller coaster ride brain
is all ****** up
don't know why I am sad.
it might be better
by sharing how I am feeling
in between
texting my friends
and ***** yes!
gonna post those texts
as my next terrific poem
awesome,
call it
#asstag
and gonna give it
to my
English Teqcher
May 31, 2014
May 31, 2014 at 11:43 AM UTC
I have no energy left but for revolt — the revolt of the one who abandons the climb, turns his back, and goes back down the hill toward the water.
**** Cheney ate my flesh and shat upon my skeletal remnants. Obama came after him, unzipped his fly and emptied the pale dilution of his bladder-wine onto me (it was warm and sparkling at first, but soon became cold and fetid).
I do not want to be treated by your white-robed functionaries who take me to the precipice’s edge, deliver a pill to my mouth, a hand in my pocket, and a push on my back. I do not want to be educated by your masters of delusion, your demons of standardized measurement. I do not want to be fed by your factory corpses who sit like workers in cubicles, unmoving and covered to their hips in excrement and despair. I do not want to be employed by your treadmill machines that turn time into regret and obedience into tears. I do not want to be informed by your chyron streams that feed the wells of desolation and ignorance. I do not want to be a part of your economy that fills the fountains of palaces with the blood of innocence, where investment is a tout sheet that dissolves into electrons as the getaway limousine races toward the mansion.
The sheer and final exhaustion of the rebel is his last and only triumph: he drops the knife of his cause, gently lowers the stiffening body of his holy purpose into the receptive dust, clears aside a few stony pieces of the rubble, and kneels in submission to the earth and all the teeming beauty that lies beneath it.
For then he knows: it is I, too, like these others, who have walked among the dead.
Mar 29, 2010
Mar 29, 2010 at 9:12 PM UTC