"squirts" poems
whish whish is the sound of a suffering
the sound of blood as it squirts
the most exquisite and horrendous fountain
loaded with a despairing call
a siren's ring
because it stings the depths of the heart
to the very end, from the dreadful start
whish whish is the sound of suffering
the sound of wheels turning
because there was an exit before, there always is
most often it's more than I'm willing to give
whish whish is the sound of suffering
it is the sound of those crying
there is pleading, wailing, sighing
'fore the fates bring forth dying
and there is death in life, thoughts, wisdom, courage
it comes with age, but time's the liveliest gift received
we are deceived if we think we turn each page
whish whish is the sound of a suffering
it's the sound of what's missed
if we had asked before
we mightn't be adorned with the weight
the burden, the baggage, the fate
the mystery is missing
there's hissing in the past
those last faulty choices have played with our cast
Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 12:32 AM UTC
I try to cry
but I can’t
I mute my tv
so I can hear
the pain reverberating
from my nostrils
like I am being
clamped together
in the fetal position
until blood squirts
out my ears
I try to cry
but I can’t
I mute the dog by
giving her a bone
I mute the sun by
drawing the shades
I try to cry
but I can’t
this muted pain
it’s locked in the attic
deteriorating
I mute my neck by
taping it to the fan
I mute my breath
with my belt
roll down my eye
to my lips
I want to taste
this ******* stupid world
for myself
Apr 3, 2016
Apr 3, 2016 at 3:36 PM UTC
tattooed girl
hello kitty
in need of a purge
she **** first
in the whip me
with a wet noodle
pain Olympics
her fruit launcher
like a summer papaya
***** gush
kissey squirts
candy crush
all gobbledygoo
and lickyfu
ooow she swayed
to the whip back crack
her torso bent
heaven sent
dipped in hot ***
and laughing lady sauce
she squealed
for
bok choy
eel ****
and slippy toy
**** buttered waffles
and gummy worms
lime and cherry *****
with candy sperms
you can find her
in the bend over den
eating puffer fish
so very Zen
toes gooey wet
spread on a cot
oh so high
**** and squat
******* baby
tied in a knot
**** bobba bubble
and chrysanthemum tea
nut scented black beer
and milk pearl ***
its the end of the line
ready to dine
get the gag
flex the spine
face to the ground
feet to the sky
held like a dove
***** splash cry
Aug 6, 2017
Aug 6, 2017 at 12:16 PM UTC
There are three versions of this poem. only one of them is available on the internet. This first version is from the New Yorker in a 1941 issue. It is the earliest version and the one that is quoted all over the internet.
To My Valentine
by Ogden Nash (1902-1971)
More than a catbird hates a cat,
Or a criminal hates a clue,
Or the Axis hates the United States,
That's how much I love you.
I love you more than a duck can swim,
And more than a grapefruit squirts,
I love you more than gin rummy is a bore,
And more than a toothache hurts.
As a shipwrecked sailor hates the sea,
Or a juggler hates a shove,
As a hostess detests unexpected guests,
That's how much you I love.
I love you more than a wasp can sting,
And more than the subway jerks,
I love you as much as a beggar needs a crutch,
And more than a hangnail irks.
I swear to you by the stars above,
And below, if such there be,
As the High Court loathes perjurious oaths,
That's how you're loved by me.
The next version is the lyric of a song from the Broadway musical "One Touch of Venus" (1943) by Ogden Nash, J S Perelman and Kurt Weill. Nash wrote this lyric. It is not on the internet that I could find. I got it from the sheet music.
HOW MUCH I LOVE YOU
More than a catbird hates a cat,
Or a criminal hates a clue,
Or the Axis hates the United States,
That's how much I love you.
As a sailor's sweetheart hates the sea,
Or a juggler hates a shove,
As a wife detests unexpected guests,
That's how much you I love.
I love you more than a wasp can sting,
And more than a hangnail hurts.
I love you more than commercials are a bore,
And more than a grapefruit squirts.
I swear to you by the stars above,
And below, if such there be,
As a bride would resent a blessed event,
That's how you are loved by me.
More than a waitress hates to wait ,
Or a lioness hates the zoo,
Or a batter dislikes those called third strikes,
That's how much I love you.
As much as a lifeguard hates to swim,
Or a writer hates to read,
As Hays office frowns on low cut gowns,
That's how much you I need.
I love you more than a hive can itch,
And more than a chilblain chills.
I yearn for you in an ivy clad igloo,
As a liver yearns for pills.
I swear to you by the stars above,
And below, if such there be,
As a dachshund abhors revolving doors,
That's how you are loved by me.
The third is from the book "Marriage Lines: notes of a student husband" It was published in 1964 and contains a revised version of the poem with a much different ending. This too is not on the internet. I got it from the book.
TO MY VALENTINE
More than a catbird hates a cat,
Or a criminal hates a clue,
Or an odalisque hates the Sultan's mates,
That's how much I love you.
I love you more than a duck can swim,
And more than a grapefruit squirts,
I love you more than commercials are a bore,
And more than a toothache hurts.
As a shipwrecked sailor hates the sea,
Or a juggler hates a shove,
As a hostess detests unexpected guests,
That's how much you I love.
I love you more than a wasp can sting,
And more than the subway jerks,
I love you truer than a toper loves a brewer,
And more than a hangnail irks.
I love you more than a bronco bucks,
Or a Yale man cheers the Blue.
Ask not what is this thing called love;
It's what I'm in with you.
Feb 14, 2018
Feb 14, 2018 at 2:51 PM UTC
when we were just kids living in Nebraska
running through cornstalks holding hands
where the sun died crazy deaths over the mountains
you were my neighbor
and the bank took our land
i would've never imagined
you living in a whiskey barrel
offering ******** and squawking squirts
giving them away for free
to hideous former cowboys
substituting laughter for anger
intead,
a moment like this:
finding you alone on the banks
of a dull river
shivering,
swinging from a branch
Jun 3, 2013
Jun 3, 2013 at 7:55 PM UTC
In the linoleum dungeon
Sparkling swiffer creature
Squirts the floor
Calls polyphemic odors
Opening
And the crazy stench of allspice
Biting lime and draconian breath
Burning the nostril coins
Copper shield bending the cilia
Oven mitts plastered with narcotic grease and decomposing meals
Of yesteryear
Unclear
She speaks between steaming inspirations
Hoo-huh
Exhale the fire
It's'a hotta pasta lasagna
As the helicopters flap their handy rotories
Fast fractal birds
In circumfereferential motion
Cool down our mouths
Ice cubes in the juice
Plop a shot of gin
With that silly child's grin
And the room slowly cants
Begins to spin
As we laugh at the spots we cannot
Pin
Staring at the stellar mountain chains
Thrusted stone
Busted metal
Stabbing up into the sky
Competition
Where is the home beyond the horizon
Where we ate good meals
Not made alone
With parental guidance
As the days were stolen
By the erosive time
That spinning wheel
Well,
It's deep in us now
And the cells metastasized
Realized
That heaven is hell.
Aug 7, 2018
Aug 7, 2018 at 3:51 PM UTC
Heaven got so plenty moods
At dawn she's like a sleepy maid
Just awoke, and rescheduled, still,
As she rise from her midnight bed
Dusk is her blushing face
As she sees all the love
Midday she shines bright
As she dances over the sky above
Full moon she sits up there
Her fair skin shining silver light
As she tries to fall asleep
In her gown of deep blue night
Rain can be thrice
In sadness, she sometimes weeps
In joy, she squirts water, playful laughing
Or she brings the water's salvation she keeps
When angry, her wrath masses in clouds
And cataclysms, that storm the land
Fog is a try to cover the world's darkness
As she cups it with a caring hand
Blood moon shows her scars and wounds
That had cut her deeper than any blade
Blizzards rage in her despair
When she cries out with words unsaid
In eclipse, she tries to hide her face
Shame letting her cheeks glow
For even she is not all perfect
Not always she can cover in innocent, white snow
Every girl has, sometimes,her terrible twos
And few enough are of such purity
Heaven is not perfect
But she's made of simple beauty
Aug 10, 2021
Aug 10, 2021 at 5:19 AM UTC
Gnomes out back who fuss and moan,
The weeds are too high they continue to groan,
I feel for them I really do,
But they know I am busy with so much too.
Ungrateful resin folk who cop an attitude about a few colorful sprigs,
Despite the fact they live in such lavish digs.
So some spiky ends of greenery may tickle their noses,
While they continue to hold their impish poses.
In fact I am planning a surprise for their flower bed,
Rainbow rock pebbles and new mulch will soon be spread,
Plus multiple squirts of weed-be-gone,
Next week you'll see a whole new lawn.
As I shell out more loot to keep this bit of paradise lovely-
I keep my eyes wide open for signs of impending mutiny.
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 1:08 PM UTC
**** slidin out ma ***
Squirts of liquid and spurts of gas
Constraining my face
To push it out and away
That lil **** hangin from ma hole
It's almost like it's got a soul
I shake it off quick
That big black stick
And then it goes plop
Down in the **** ***
Wash it away, with tears and say
"Urrrrgea, that was a big one aye?"
Then flush it down
And watch it fade away
Mar 17, 2017
Mar 17, 2017 at 6:33 PM UTC
Living cannot be the most painful thing,
Right? No, I don’t believe so.
For when life doesn’t give you lemons,
But squirts them in your eye,
You cannot deny that it hurts.
Even the sweetest clementine can sting like a wasp,
When crushed into your perspective.
Really, anything can hurt when it hits home plate,
Right between your ribs, that is.
Help, I’ve fallen and I can’t get up;
It’s not so funny once you think about it.
You get better,
But you’re not the same again;
Can’t people see that,
Or perhaps,
Do they have juice in their eyes too?
Jun 9, 2013
Jun 9, 2013 at 2:08 PM UTC
I wanted to get you something odd for your birthday
A trip to a Pacific Island
How are ya-"50"
With all the crooks and turns
this crazy life brings us
nobody gets away
without waterfalls in paradise
hula skirts and little squirts
they all arrive on time
Speaking of odds and paradise
I thought I would quote a few
1) chances you'll date a supermodel
88,000-1 (think Marcus Schenkenberg)
2) odds of marrying royalty
(if you lived in the U.K.) 500-1
3) chances that any person dating is dating a millionaire
215-1...not dating?
4) odds of becoming a saint
20,000,000 to 1 ....actually you are way closer than that to me
5) chances of writing a NY Times best seller
got your attention now right?.....220-1...you can do it
6) odds of becoming president
You'd be the best one in my lifetime...10,000,000 to 1
And there are bad things you may never
have to worry about:
7) being struck by lightning
87,000 to one
8) being possessed by Satan
7,000 to 1 ...unless America is "The Great Satan" in which case you already are here
9) chances of the destruction of the universe
I know you have been worried about this
10 to the 100th power to 1
After giving you all these odds
don't you feel better now?
How about one more odd?
The biggest odd of all
"me"
ok...no kidding
odds of you having a GREAT BIRTHDAY
ALL THE BEST ODDS
May 24, 2010
May 24, 2010 at 3:02 PM UTC
She's soft, furry, tender
She's hot when I enter
Jumps on the comfy couch
Claws, hook me in the back
Ready to attack, the mac
Thirsty and hungry for food
Perfect times in the mood
Pounding it cuz I'm rude
Remember I'm your dude
Your favorite, your dream
Your imaginations best
Never stop until I bust
Pleasing your squirts burst
In a hurst, slow it if starts to hurt g spot to make it work
Make it wet I can surely bet
Dripping, make you tripping
Close your eyes, relax lay back, hold on tight, get ready for the fight, just please don't bite, dribble the ******* licking the picking, after I'm sticking deep in, all in to the belly, feeling all the jelly, groan make you moan, make you feel the best ever, my antidepressant last forever, drooling all over the sheets, when our bodies meet, sweating pores left when I'm finish complete, leave you knocked fast asleep, holding hands in the oceans sand...
Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 12:09 AM UTC
a clown puts on his make up to make the children smile
colored suits and great big boots in his clown like style
doing funny things with his funny hair
making people happy as at the clown they stare
riding on a bike that is far to small
making children laugh when he pretends to fall
lots and lots water he squirts everywhere
over all the people and high up in the air
such a funny man who loves the children so
just see the clown the children long to go
a favourite with the people at the circus show
there to entertain you and give your heart a glow
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 8:50 AM UTC
This Girl Of Mine
Clothes get thrown to the floor,
at this point we can't take no more.
I got style, I got grace,
when my girl sits on my face.
I have the moves that drive her wild,
you should see the way she smiled.
Kisses from head to toe,
foreplay should be nice and slow.
With my tongue, I don't miss a spot,
never once have I missed her slot.
Starts with a kiss, than a massage,
we even don't mind an entourage.
Puts her mouth over my stick,
open wide cause it's very thick.
We don't need to watch any ****
just an over-sized shoe horn.
It starts with her on top,
keep going baby and never stop.
Loves when her ******* are squeezed,
lucky for us we're not diseased.
Pounding hard with all our might,
*** is better after a big fight.
Bed is rocking and about to break,
must be quieter or the kids will wake.
Then it's time for doggy style,
smacking that *** for awhile.
Pulling her hair, till it hurts,
this girl of mine has the squirts.
Bed is soak and wet,
and no it isn't from sweat.
Screaming my name for an hour,
I'm like God, but with more power.
I can feel my knees getting weak,
this girl of mine is such a freak.
Body is shaking, and turning Japanese,
she is screaming hurry please.
Then came the big explosion,
if I was a ****** I'd deserve a promotion.
Then we lay in bed and cuddle,
first I get a towel, for the giant puddle.
Holding her tight, till she falls asleep,
this girl of mine, I'm gonna keep.
Nov 2, 2013
Nov 2, 2013 at 3:24 AM UTC
Being a girl is hard
But being a black girl...
Let me tell you about being a black girl
Leave Out
Twist
Frontal
Perm
Pick your poison
"Unprofessional"
Or falling for " European Beauty Standards"
" Why are you so quiet?"
Do you expect me to be aggressive
And snap my fingers in an A-Z formation
Light Skin is the best skin
Or so they say
I'm jealous of my brother, for his caramel skin
Oh what I'd do for that caramel skin
You think that's the worst of it but have you see ****
Cute girl makes love to -insert famous **** star here
Ebony ***** gets banged till she squirts
Which would you rather watch?
If you ever turned on a TV you'd see reality shows with the perfect blue eyed blond hair cast and the one black kid who doesn't get enough attention
Ever since Rachel was the Bachelorette I too prayed one day I'll find the man of my dreams
Have you ever had a crush on someone and ever think if they even like girls your skin color?
Being a girl is hard
But being a black girl
Oh let me tell you about being a black girl
Nov 27, 2017
Nov 27, 2017 at 4:13 PM UTC
(Warning - quite a sad poem)
-------------------------------------------
This is the worst thing that has ever happened to me.
In a room full of strangers, the most important stranger
Squirts cold and smelly jelly on my slightly rounded belly.
I smile, everything's comical.
You read about these moments,
And we've waited in a fever of anticipation.
Excited by the chance to send out a photo,
We clutch the required three quid,
And crane our head around medical students,
Three nurses, and the all important doctor,
Ultrasound expert
- I've just remembered, his name was Jesus.
The screen is blurry, dark, morphing into
Alien shapes.
Shifting, sorting, I smile indulgently
At the grainy haze,
All to be expected,
Sometimes, the photo's don't even look like a baby,
but -
There's a silence
And then something in the room shifts,
Nurse and scanner share a glance,
The students remain glazed, this is the seventh of the day
And they don't know enough, to know a thing,
But those who know, know,
And suddenly, I know.
There is no baby on that screen,
Because there is no baby.
Questions remain to be asked,
Am I sure of my dates?
The pregnancy looks younger...
But I know
Even before they fail to find a heartbeat,
And have already retreated
Into oblivion,
Where I will remain
Through the ensuing operation,
And for months beyond.
I cry, I cry,
I cry, endlessly,
Wondering why.
This happens to many.
I have shared their stories, since.
But you cannot know,
until you know.
That's the worst place, so far,
I have ever had to go.
Oct 5, 2013
Oct 5, 2013 at 2:32 PM UTC
Why do bracelets fit up our noses?
One of many problems life poses.
Such as how do nappies keep in the poo,
until it squirts out and lands in my shoe.
Food is fun to play with and throw.
Toys taste good, though Mum says "No!"
Pets are for hugging,
sisters for bugging.
Tears can come after laughing,
but go quickly with hugging.
One thing goes well with all the above,
the happy wee children surrounded with love.
Jan 10, 2011
Jan 10, 2011 at 2:27 PM UTC
Face paint
Balloons
Trick that they play
Smiling so happy
Just for me
Puffy pants
Big feet
A flower that squirts me
Funny hair
Red nose
Multicolored clothes
It’s too bad
He’s one of my foes
Jun 30, 2011
Jun 30, 2011 at 10:06 AM UTC
The tower penetrates
the puffy pink
clouds, and the
horizon squirts
sweet rain.
My face gets
sticky.
She is the sky.
Dec 18, 2024
Dec 18, 2024 at 11:00 AM UTC
Condensed vibrational frequencies
Seeing themselves as masters of their own destiny
But tell me this,does a piece of music choose its own tempo and direction?or is it down to the creator of the sounds?
As we live in a sound based reality ( & I use the term reality loosely) we can summerise that the elation we experience from a series of rhythmic sound can be found in all other things,if we just choose to feel the vibe.
The obvious penatration of our being stood in front of the base bins at a free party,the feeling of sunlight to warm the skin and a zepher to cool it,the feeling of nirvana as a wild young temptress straddles your face and squirts moments of bliss into the oral cavity.
Its all vibrations,all of it,like a giant orchestra of being and everyone and everything has a front row seat.
Mar 30, 2016
Mar 30, 2016 at 1:44 PM UTC
There’s a monster under my bed,
I shut my eyes so I can’t see!
It’s so scary, it has a purple head.
I sprayed Monster Vanish that squirts out red,
But I think it’s wore off, I can see his knee!
There’s a monster under my bed.
By morning time, I’m sure I’ll be dead,
It’ll chuck my body out to sea!
It’s so scary, it has a purple head.
Its five thousand eyes fill me with dread,
They burn through my body as I play the Wii!
There’s a monster under my bed.
‘Monster detector came today’ Mum said,
‘All gone!’ she added, but I don’t agree!
It’s so scary, it has a purple head.
Monsters stab you in your sleep, I read,
Some even pin you to a tree!
There’s a monster under my bed,
It’s so scary, it has a purple head.
Apr 18, 2012
Apr 18, 2012 at 1:31 PM UTC
waddle waddle waddle; at full throttle.
squeaking up a roar.
slamming, in a silent way
almost every open door.
dawdle dawdle dawdle; coo and coddle.
virtues of a *****
never learning how to play
but always keeping score.
model model model; ship in bottle,
seeking out a shore.
life is only just today
not after or before.
rumble rumble rumble; belly grumble.
breaking for a fix.
deciding indecision
when it's time to call it quits.
mumble mumble mumble; feeling humble.
empty bag of tricks.
in need of some religion
and a lot of politics.
stumble stumble stumble; trip and tumble.
cross the river styx.
blinded by a vision
of the future it predicts.
gentle gentle gentle; swollen pimple.
tender and it hurts!
squeezing brings on some relief
when it pops and then it squirts.
mental mental mental; slow and simple.
cultural perverts.
with the honors of a thief,
disaster winks and flirts.
rental rental rental; gods and temple.
slogans on t-shirts.
the crux of the belief?
that everyone converts!
fiddle fiddle fiddle; dance in middle.
shoes made of cement.
following without a lead,
a purpose or intent.
brittle brittle brittle; sung through spittle.
this lyrical lament.
from the chains that all are freed
when all of life is spent.
riddle riddle riddle; with a little,
tantalizing hint.
if every want fulfilled a need.
would the sated be content?
Mar 23, 2014
Mar 23, 2014 at 4:51 PM UTC
Hand grips the neck
Hot tongue
Trails along the jaw
Nose inhales that scent
She shivers
Repulsed
Talons tear sweet flesh
Deep tears
streaks of blood
Screams heard
Hideous Cackles follow
Insanity at best
Death scent permeates the air
Monsterous legs forcing
Thighs squeeze tight in refusal
Tongue licks the ******
Biting
The peak almost off
Blood squirts into His mouth
Fingernails scrape the ****
pinching it until she writhes
Parting legs
The mangled pointed phallus
Pushed into her sweet innocence
Pulling back out
Flesh rents from the movement
Bathing His shaft in warm liquid
Hissing as His need becomes great
Screams as pleasure explodes within
Not realizing she is battered
Bloodied and dying
His thrusts in and out
More brutal, ******
His energy grows
******* the ****** off
Chewing on mangled flesh
Heart black as night
Mind cracked an abyss
Roars as the lifeforce ebbs
Insane screams explode through the night
Taking all of her
Not caring that she will die
Coated in blood
Woman defiled,
Suddenly He demon spurts
Burning torn flesh
Like acid
The smell invigorates Him
His mind lost
Spewing forth He eats
Gobbling up every bit of life
He picks up the spent body
Seeing her dying
Azure eyes look into His
Begging for death
He tosses her to lay
Among the countless others
Taken,used,discarded
A theme so familiar
Perhaps monstrous
Same effect is achieved
Defiled,ashamed, bloodied
Bruised, used,and maimed
Lies revealed finally by truth
Finally eyes look forward lifeless
suffering no more
I wonder if she didn't get the easy way out
I think they all did
May 24, 2010
May 24, 2010 at 5:19 PM UTC
Loose ends. You are all I ever am.
Jealousy squirts through my narrow veins.
Effortless sickness plagues my every guess.
And I wake up, look at my only Self
And dazedness fades hatred as each blanketed flaw thaws to visibility.
All tasks ask for failure and preparation is an unprecedented burden.
The hands that cradle the Earth are the same ones that feed me...
only later to shield my eyes from the resultant memories.
It seems as if every relation from past, present, and futures bleed into each other.
So I stand behind a screen, wanting to look at everything
being kept out. Too bad it's woven with holes. Every circumstance bleeds and seeps
through to each other from these openings, seeing me as the middle-ground.
Now I'm overwhelmed and under-appreciated. I shall stand still- unsure- until I wash up on shore with everyone's repaid debts buried next to me in the wet sand. It would be unintelligent to swim out into new territory until the waters calm.
Jan 12, 2011
Jan 12, 2011 at 8:49 PM UTC
The steeple penetrates
the puffy pink
clouds, and the
horizon squirts
sweet rain.
My face gets
sticky.
Feb 11, 2022
Feb 11, 2022 at 7:38 AM UTC