"stinky" poems
Minnehaha Park is hot in the summer
Even by the water
Who knew it would be so hot
Even down by the water?
But all of it is hot
And there are acorns everywhere
Scattered on the ground
Below our butts as we try to sit
And have a little picnic
On a brightly checkered blanket
Between two tall trees
That tower above us
And grant us shade
While pelting acorns down
Into our cheese and crackers
And fancy rosé wine
Whatever that means
I thought wine was wine
But I guess they have personalities
Like people
Like couples
Some things pair well together
Like my crisp pineapple and cheap fuckin' pizza
Or your stinky blue cheese and weird cookie-like *******
Like us
And the cheese sits on a green marble slab
Elegant as ****
Because that's just who you are
But that marble slab sits on top of a pizza box
Simple as ****
Because that's just who I am
And we pair well
On this hot *** summer day
While we drink rosé
And "I love you" is all we say
Because sometimes we don't have to say anything
We're okay without words
In the middle of a park
On a hot *** summer day
Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 4:11 PM UTC
In the old house up the hills -
Yes, the one that gives you chills
Whenever you walk by its fence -
Lives someone who, no offense,
Looks like she'd puts kids on grill.
Children, puppies, all she'd ****
For food.
Lady who, probably, likes to
Know the places each kid hikes to.
There she, later in the day,
Waits for village kids to stray.
Some will die and some live on.
Who? That really depens on
Her mood.
Some say that she used to snitch,
Others say that she's a witch!
Nobody was ever in
The house whose walls are made of skin.
Nobody would ever dare
To set their foot on the porch where
She stood.
They'll never know that her kitchen
Smelled like flowers, most bewitchin',
They won't see her paintings, neat,
Her living room where you could meet
A fire giving warm embrace.
And alongside her fireplace
The wood.
Now, if you got in, you'd stare
on stinky fish bowls, everywhere,
whose cloudy water calls for changing,
and rooms in need of rearranging.
But since you never really tried,
No one knows the lady died.
Yes she's dead for good.
Nov 11, 2015
Nov 11, 2015 at 1:07 AM UTC
come sit on my words
dear reader
like outdoor furniture
for thin hips
while spooky poets peer up under gaudy umbrellas
nervous about making a good impression
all of your hosts
snuffed candles burning-out
for metaphors and alliterations
begging
one poem at a time
for a light
that we will never see
go ahead
antagonize me
you, who live in an idealized passed
fear the future
and ignore the present
while i hide like a little girl
behind the bare legs of poetry
that will show you!
my head a hanging web
that feels words like cosmic storms
tumbling stone heads
onto boulders of terracotta shards
my ink smells like stinky saliva
a dragging wet tongue of ambiguity
a kabuki fight to the death
unwinding paper machete viscera
and plucking out make-believe hearts
while gobbling fortune cookies containing
jokes, platitudes, and fortunes
that never come true
in a dreamland of masturbation's
i'm trying to break something in you!
Jul 9, 2018
Jul 9, 2018 at 4:45 PM UTC
**** you, Old Stinky
Why are you so slow and old?
I hate you so hard.
Jun 20, 2014
Jun 20, 2014 at 2:10 PM UTC
Ears pressed cool against
glass tables and vinyl flooring
words score high drained slowly
slow like wasps caught in guttered draining
not like velvet names etched in casing, but weathered like bricked and beaten graffiti –
Waning like wax always melting
Tools: spelling and grammar – uncheck
Don’t fret too many gerunds grounding air suffocating hearing between the lines that past lower truths out straight in dirt and stinky face: eyes drawn with pensive staring
lines drawn global remains of words unused: boycott form because it isn’t daring.
Adopt sonar because it traces the smokestack between eaves drop
and scrap metal hearing like thorns prickled cut by cleaver.
Clink, clink, clank.
Unlatch cellar doors of images fixed in meaning: glances slanted
heads poked out behind legs enchanting ink under eyelids.
Clank, click, click.
Wishing: Sunday morning came to rest and the cat perched rest without the windowsill and the space between my legs lost meaning.
Forgetting: Painted houses haunting furniture misplaced, training lessons in memory fading.
Dreaming: Sounds dipped in vegetable oil, Van Morrison in teething states caring.
Still lost without my last breathe wondering…
Mar 2, 2011
Mar 2, 2011 at 1:31 PM UTC
The boy haden't bathed in over a month
His **** crack was itching and burning
His underpants were soaked in slimy, wet muck
And his toes a thick jam were churning
His armpits stank worse than a fat pigs raw ***
His breath smelled like rancid fish
His hair was so oily, matted to his head
His own mother wouldn't give him a kiss
"Enough!" he cried as a passing fly died
When he raised his arm to exclaim.
"I must bathe right away! I am long overdue!"
"I sure hope the washcloths are brave."
"To the bathroom man!" He shouted as he ran
And his underpants sloppily squished
"I will remove this filth and brush my green teeth"
"And my mother I will kiss!"
"The closet's ahead!" He said as he sped.
And he stopped there to get some stuff.
Some soap, some shampoo and a towel or two.
But he knew that it wasn't enough.
Look though he might, to his horror and fright,
Not a single washcloth could he find.
Then panic set in 'cause the stink of his skin
Was driving him out of his mind.
He looked yet again but to his chagrin
The washcloth shelf was bare.
The washcloths had run off
For they would not wash
So filthy a boy on a dare
"Oh what will I do!" "Boo-hoo, boo-hoo!"
The boy cried as flies swarmed his head.
"I'd **** myself but I already smell"
"Far worse than anything dead!"
Then one washcloth came back
Holding it's nose and a sack
Of bath salts that smelled like dill.
It said to the boy "Go pickle yourself!"
"And give me a nausea pill!"
So the boy rejoiced and filled the tub
With water, hot as he could stand.
And using the bath salts, he jumped right in
And the pickling began.
He lathered the washcloth with water and soap
And scrubbed with all of his might.
Away he washed all of the filth
'Til none was left in sight.
He washed his hair and brushed his teeth
And dried and dressed himself well.
And the washcloth exclaimed as it hung on the tub
"Holy crap! that was pure hell!"
So the boy now clean ran to be seen
By his mother he loved so much.
And she gave him a kiss and said "This is pure bliss!"
"I can kiss you and keep down my lunch!"
The moral I'll tell you and true I will be
So no one will say that I lied.
Don't wait a whole month to take a bath
Or you washcloths may run and hide.
Aug 1, 2012
Aug 1, 2012 at 7:53 AM UTC
Once there was an old woman
who had tremendous bad farts,
And this is where our story begins
this is where it all starts.
Her farts were just awful
they'd stink up and ****
They'd make babies cry louder
and make all the roses wilt
When she walked into town
her farts wouldn't stop
A green stink cloud would follow
wherever she'd walk
"Whats that AWFUL smell?!"
people would exclaim
Then they'd all point to the old lady
who always suffered the blame
Due to these consequences
the old lady was lonely
How much she longed for love,
and just a place that felt homely.
They say there's someone special
for each and every soul
Even for stinky old ladies
and that's why this story is told
When fate intervenes
no one can really say
Whats meant for you or me
or what makes old lady's day.
For one day old Miss Stinky
was walking through a store
She met a perfect gentleman
who held open her door
He didn't run away
like all the other people
He came up to Old Miss Stinky
and oh how she got so feeble!
He fell in love
with all of old Miss Stinky
To her **** bombs and green clouds
he said "Oh wow, That's real *****
You can never know
when your special someone comes by
For If stinky old ladies find happy endings
why shouldn't I?
Now she's not alone
just happily farting each day
They had a huge hazmat-mask wedding
and he swept happy old Miss Stinky away
Nov 4, 2014
Nov 4, 2014 at 9:34 AM UTC
Toking on a cloud with ******* Jesus and his family
Lame folks ask me how,
its cause I ******* smoke
religiously
No God I smoke religious tree,
I get ****** in the name of heresy
You angry penguin ****** preach acceptance
So praise the Lord and ******* shame on me
My guise is Satan *****
and my swag is undisguisible
heartless and no conscience,
sicksicksix most recognizable
-that statement may surprise a little but since we all surmise a little
Why deny me as the devil when
When I clearly play a golden fiddle. . .
From Hell I made a deal
and there is no repeal
nothing you see is real,
I will invade and pervade your mind
So wait in anticipation,
life's a figment of your own imagination
I'll watch you dissipate into oblivion
Pound for pound,
I'm a cenobite at heart,
I just haven't a heart to be found
It's not hard for me
its profound,
the sound of suffering
your soul is ours now
and I will tear it apart
Here's a toast to our orchestral
Symphony of the flesh
My swag's so ******* flawless
100 carrot diamonds,
******* love me cause I'm gorgeous
can't stag no more, fat stacks galore
embrace the force it opens doors
Is there a source, but of course -
it just lies dormant/
What's a ***** to a floor except a doormat
And you know that I'm no diplomat
It's just a fact I ******* hate those stinky ratchets
And I sharply lack tact
tell that ***** her ***** smells like Magikarp
Body language, that of Snorlax
someone once asked
why don't have an open mind
brains would spill out
if my ******* snapback
weren't so tight
Its the season to seize C's
and hallucinations be dazzlin em
don't believe your eyes son,
its only a phantasm but
Words are like playdough,
fun to play with not to eat
So clap your ******* trap and get lost to the beat
I can't be defeat
So suckle my teet
My verses are perverse
I'm high as **** words: failing
Get low
ill as **** so ******* sick,
blowed half past belligerent,
tweaking off my nasal drips,
There's serenity in debauchery -
***** I ******* bask in it
have a taste
basketcase,
I drink red bull it gives me ******* wings
"Memento quod sumus lascivio venatus"
Remember that you are playing the Game
Nov 29, 2013
Nov 29, 2013 at 9:00 PM UTC
Nobody knows the
the darker corners
of my decrepit soul,
a stale and stinky
nasty shrinking
***** of abstraction,
that is less than
a fraction
of nothingness,
a shadowy space
where people cringe
and strangers displace
their rage
till tension and resentment
fill this smelly place.
Nobody knows
that my heart
does not grow
but disposes
of the red roses,
dripping paint
of crimson pain,
beatings
taken in exchange
for struggles
and anguish,
pumping out plump
plumes of poetry
and prose
to express the truth,
that nobody knows.
Sep 13, 2018
Sep 13, 2018 at 11:48 AM UTC
Yucky Chucky Tucker
Yucky Chucky Tucker was smelly as can be,
he never took a bath and hardly ever brushed his teeth.
Everywhere he went he left an odor in the air,
and Yucky Chucky Tucker never combed his hair.
His hands were always ***** cause he played with stinky worms,
he never cared if he got sick, he wasn't afraid of germs.
He didn't have a lot of friends except for one or two,
till Yucky Chucky Tucker met little Linda Sue.
Linda was quite pretty, an awesome sight to admire
and Yucky Chucky Tucker would give anything to sit by her.
But he'd have to make some changes and what I mean by that,
Yucky Chucky Tucker would have to take a bath.
He'd have to wash his hands and scrub his ***** face,
and to clean his stained up yellow teeth would take a tube of paste.
He'd have to wash his hair at least a dozen times,
to remove the terrible build up of sticky greasy grime.
Then Yucky Chucky Tucker would have to change his clothes,
sprinkle on cologne and find a bright red rose.
And maybe if he's lucky little Linda Sue,
might take another look at him and think he's really cute.
Funny how a pretty girl can change the way you think,
cause even Yucky Chucky Tucker washed away his stink,
All to catch the eye of little Linda Sue,
besides, her daddy owned a toy store, now what's a boy to do?
Written By Kathy J Parenteau
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Nov 26, 2014
Nov 26, 2014 at 7:59 PM UTC
a HOME credible THE BISHOP accusation ADMINISTRATION is PARISHES one MINISTRIES that, SCHOOLS after RESOURCES review SAFE ENVIRONMENT of EMPLOYEES reasonably CAREERS available, CONTACT US relevant MAKE A GIFT information BISHOP’S FAITH APPEAL in LOVE AND JUSTICE consultation AFRICAN AMERICAN MINISTRY with CATHOLIC CHARITIES the PLANNED GIVING Diocesan CHANCELLOR Review OFFICE OF CONSTRUCTION Board HISPANIC MINISTRY or CAMPUS MINISTRY other CRIMINAL JUSTICE MINISTRY professionals, STEWARDSHIP AND COMMUNICATIONS there YOUTH MINISTRY is FINANCIAL SERVICES reason MODERATOR OF THE CURIA to MAKE A GIFT TO THE CAPITAL CAMPAIGN believe SOCIAL MEDIA POLICY is FAMILY LIFE MINISTRY true VOCATIONS
The soup today is not what it could be;
We’d better search out the old recipe
Explanatory Note:
I fear the poem as written fails, which is my fault (perhaps I have lapsed into fuzziness from reading Leonard Cohen), so here is a bit of exposition:
The words in small print are a quote from the Bishops of Texas (long may they wave), generated by some in-house scrivener, about what constitutes a "credible accusation." "Credible accusation" is not a title in civil, criminal, or canon law, and it appears to be some sort of Article 58 (cf. Solzhenitsyn's The Gulag Archipelago), a means whereby anyone is guilty because he has been accused. It stinks.
Also stinky is the behavior of some few priests and religious.
Anyway, I pulled the quote from a diocesan web site, and scattered among it in LARGE TYPE categories from that site. I stirred 'em all up in a soup because the matter of paedophilia and the bishops' responses seem to be a soup, making it difficult for a "good simpleton" (cf A Canticle for Leibowitz) like me to understand.
May God have mercy on us all.
Feb 4, 2019
Feb 4, 2019 at 4:20 PM UTC
love eating pickles
love putting pickles in my shoes
love the pickles on my toes
love that stinky pickle smell
love eating pickles
Oct 19, 2013
Oct 19, 2013 at 6:28 PM UTC
imagine a big dragon
Are you doing it?
"ye"
what color is it?
"b-blue and yellow"
Blue and yellow. Cute! Isss it big as godzilla?
"no, it's smaller
likee the size of a horse"
Dats a smol dragon
I like him.
"its not smallllllllllll
a smol dragon would be like, a neck dragon
hes big, just not hugeeeeeee"
Ohhhh okay. He's a big dragon, but not huge.
His teeth are like little point pearls
do you see how shiny they are?
and pink
"why are his teeth pink"
They are pearls.
"but pearls are white"
then his toofers are white.
"gooood
good hygeine"
Mhmm
One of those pearls in his dragon maw
his little baby toofeers
thats you
"why?"
because than you can fly with him everywhere.
Just imagine looking down through his mouth at the cityyy
as he flyyyys
and sitting all nestled in his lip
Blue and yellow leather
He could sing you storiessss and brushes his toofers so his breath would be warm but not stinky
"gooooooooooooooooooood!
awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwhhhhhhhhh :3"
"My small tenant" He says to you.
as you crawl out of his gum and walk out onto his tongue.
What is your dragon houses name?
"his name is roxy"
He's making a very silly face, sticking his tongue out and crossing his eyes to talk to you
he sounds silly too
talking with his tongue out
"Welcome Home. "
"i loveeeeee"
Roxy the Blue and yellow Horse sized Dragon House.
"Ready to slide?"
he asks you
"alwayyyyyyyyyyys"
he swallows you
it's very slippery and fun!
like a water slide
And is warm, but not smelly becaus he brushes his teeth
you fly over muscles and liquids and tongue and land on a biiiig trampoline
You can hear Roxy from all around you, quite loud "Having fun, my tennant?"
You are the small size, or a dragons tooth.
"good :3"
"uh oh!" He cries
you see fire from his back
it's zooming towards you!
"nooooooooooo run awaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyy"
You run up towards his tongue and trip into the sticky icky
The fire is warm and tingles oup your back
then is over
and you standup, the back of your clothes all burnt off and your front all sticky icky
"I'm sorry, tennant"
"I sneezed"
"its oki roxy."
Roxy fashions their tongue like a staircase for you to come back outside
"daddy? Im sleepy... Can we finish the story tomorrow night?"
me too Babygurl. ^^
Yes we can
"yay!!!!!!!"
Good night
"ninighht daddy. sleeeepppppp well.
i love you"
I love you too baby girl ^^
Sweet dreams.
You curl up in roxys empty tooth spot, he covers you in his blanket tongue. it is warm. but not stinky. and you drift soft to sleep
"Good night, Tenant"
"I love you"
"i love you ttooo roxy."
Mar 19, 2017
Mar 19, 2017 at 11:32 AM UTC
Pooey, pooey, poo. Gee, I smell you. It's time to take a bath now.
Stinky, stinky, doo, you friends do to. You reek and oh you stink, wow!
So could you hurry to the shower and rub some soap all over you *** Don't hold back!
And if you do remove the peu you'll find your friends won't gag and hack. That's a fact!
So pooey, pooey, poo. What will you do? There's a bathtub fillin'.
Stinky, stinky, doo. It's up to you. To wash off that penicillin.
Oct 9, 2013
Oct 9, 2013 at 8:27 PM UTC
** ** ** ** ** ** We think Santa smells!
We think Santa smells. And he smells like hell
It's not to laugh 'cause Santa needs a bath!
Yes, we think Santa smells.
Sweating day and night, in his suite so tight.
Stop this debate 'cause it's too late.
Yes we think Santa smells.
We have had about enough of this stinky man.
We must surely formulate a bathing plan.
Santa's gone too long and the odor's strong.
Don't be a dope and grab that soap!
'Cause we think Santa smells.
(Instrumental)
We've an urgent job to do so our eyes won't tear.
Every time to us Santa Claus comes near.
We think Santa smells. And he smells like hell.
It's not to laugh 'cause Santa needs a bath.
Yes we think Santa smells.
** **
Dec 22, 2016
Dec 22, 2016 at 4:19 PM UTC
The hinky stinky spider
Spun a crooked web.
His mama called him,
Said “You stop that, Jeb!”
Jeb the hinky spider
Pays nobody mind.
He stumbles on his way
Just as if he’s blind.
The hinky stinky spider
Spins webs around DC
Pulling in Republicans
To his philosophy.
They do not notice
His mind is awful dim.
That is because they
Are half as bright as him.
The hinky stinky spider
Spins old and faulty tales.
Knows half the voters
Will fall for all his wails.
Hoping he is lucky
Like his brother Dub
And gets himself elected
Resulting from a flub.
The hinky stinky spider
Looks just like a man
Looks very much like
A normal also-ran.
Hopes he can win with
What he thinks is fame
Based on ignoring
The blight upon his name.
Jul 24, 2015
Jul 24, 2015 at 7:06 AM UTC
Flatulence breeds laughter
Come smile with me, as I sing you a song;
About God's little gift, to every man.
For we all like to laugh and forget all our worries
And we all like to laugh, whenever we can.
At a worldwide problem which just can't be solved;
Of epidemic proportions, it affects us all.
It's the funniest thing known, but embarrassing too;
But the louder the funnier, as long as it's not you.
It's flatulence! It's one big ****
It's a stinky little number and it came from my ****
It's flatulence! It's one big ****
It's a stinky little number written straight from the heart.
It's flatulence! It's one big ****
It's a stinky little number and it came from my ****
It's flatulence! It's one big ****
La, la, la, la,
La, la, la, la,
La, la, la, la,
La, lahh!
Who dropped that off? Who left us a present?
Who smells that bad? Come on! Who the Hell is it?
God **** that's bad, something smells like it's died.
You filled my lungs with a sickness, you brought a tear to my eye;
You made me wish I was a dog and I had no nose,
Then when you'd tell them of my story,
They'd say how does he smell?
(shout) AWFUL!
It's flatulence! It's one big ****
It's a stinky little number and it came from my ****
It's flatulence! It's one big ****
It's a stinky little number written straight from the heart.
It's flatulence! It's one big ****
It's a stinky little number and it came from my ****
It's flatulence! It's one big ****
La, la, la, la,
La, la, la, la,
La, la, la, la,
La, lahh!
Well it's time to end this song,
With no more bad **** jokes in sight.
It's time to wander on,
With just a trumpety, trump; goodnight.
(C)2005 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Sep 3, 2018
Sep 3, 2018 at 5:50 AM UTC
The demon scratches me
I bite him back
The demon pushes me
I spit in his face with a smack
The demon taunts me
I calleth him out by name
They hate their name called
Don't wanna be recognized for the flame
The demon shows false affections
I giveth him hate
The demons a smiler as he latches to me
I'll kick him to hells gate
The demons find me downtimes
Though with God I shalt win
Demons love misery
To seeith one in sin
Demons are smelly
Like all the dump trucks on the earth
Times ten
Demons haveth enemies
They hate even their own kind
They haveth none kin
Demons haveth a date
With Satan in the fire
They'll turn thou on with lust
For thou they do admire
Demons hast hurt me
They've tried to bring me to mine death
Soo many health issues
I know tis not me
Them
The demons hast entered mine family
From the lives we didst choose!
They entered by portals
Between good and bad souls
They came and come as orbs
Spirtual energy
Trapped to a distance
God won't let them get to close to me
They always want more
They show themselves now and then
They'll portray themselves as good souls
Wherein its all pretend
The demons speaketh in mine bathroom
They hide out in the closets
Parched behind mine bedroom wardrobe
Spies as I sleepeth
They want mine bright soul
It's full of massive glowing energy
They know it as I'm told
So to bad because their not me
They made a big mistake
Turning away from God
Now their outcast losers
Fate of hell and grud!!
They'll soon be in chains and shackles
So they cause pain now whilst here on earth
They come in all shapes and sizes as I've heard from many others
Psychics
Life after death (experiences)
And from preachers
Pastors and others
They come large
Small
Animal like
Mauled
They come stinky
Scaly
Nothing thou shalt imagine
Couldn't fathom
Their everywhere
City streets
Malls
Gyms
Stalls
Homes
Air
First heaven
Second heaven
Hell
Everywhere
Yet these demons cannot taketh me
They knoweth I'm gods light
So demon get hence from me....
Go burn in thine own fright!!!!
Jun 17, 2015
Jun 17, 2015 at 4:26 PM UTC
Pugsley snugs
on ugly rugs
and smugly shrugs
at Beak
But Beaky's peaking
and tweakily tweaking
while squeakily speaking
to Pink
And Pinky thinks
they're rinky *****
with stinky sinks
and ***** winks
Then Twiggy giggles
and jiggly wiggles
her wiggly jiggles
at Mister Higgles
And Mister Hig-g-l
Wait a second
Who's Mister Higgles?
'Undercover CBPP,' says he
(Crazy Bad Poem Police)
'Okay, let's break it up!
Enough of this stupid poem
Let's go, let's break it up!
Stay off bad poems people,
this stuff'll rot your
brain!"
©2011 Lyn
Nov 15, 2013
Nov 15, 2013 at 10:26 AM UTC
I abuse words verbally like my voice is Bobby and the dictionary Whitney/
Like a literary hyperbole properly arranged to explain this deranged brutality perfectly/
Force the English language to work for me like a particularly dark time in history/
Optimistically take the tongue twister trickery and aggressively attack a vocabulary vocally and personally/
Not physically but a barrage on your psyche, almost psychedelically/
Use words medically, like a surgeon I expertly plant thoughts whispered softly but assertively/
Moving letters like chess pawns to express thoughts masterfully and creatively/
Gruesomely grotesque but gorgeous thoughts written down beautifully/
You can't help but hear the perplexity of mythoticly placed words with comradery/
An oddity with the audacity to raise the bar and up the capacity/
Because what comes out of me has to be exactly what you see because it is me/
Not just a part of me but all of me/
I'm not a fallen tree sitting in the forest silently, quietly all by my lonely/
It's just the opposite actually and factually/
I will attack with a dialect so violent you violently retract causing you to react cowardly automatically/
I don't even have to lift a pinky, leave it stinky/
Let my words linger there in the air like **** smoke, thick and sticky/
Periodically come back to peek and see if you've figured out the mystery and found the key/
One that'll decipher decisively what it is that I've let out of me and spread to all humanity/
I could never have planned it, see, it had to happen naturally, organically if you will/
And not to build it up falsely but I honestly, back then, didn't have the ***** to let it out of me and it cost me considerably/
So now this mastery I hold of word delivery bestowed to me gets jotted down feverishly/
With an intensity equal to none inside of this ******* century, can't censor me/
Got a consistency that forces me to constantly cross the border of insanity repeatedly/
Time only to watch my talents as they literally wither away for all of eternity/
Such a tragedy to see such agony but please, no apology brought on by sympathy/
Just let me be as I drift farther out to sea to a place you'll never see/
To let these words mold me into someone you could never be/
©2018
Apr 6, 2018
Apr 6, 2018 at 4:00 AM UTC
two leaders once met in Helsinki
for talks that looked somewhat *****
as it turns out
still nobody knows
what they were talking about
and that indeed smells rather stinky
Sep 30, 2018
Sep 30, 2018 at 4:29 PM UTC
Grown men, bickering like rats,
Squeaking around obvious facts,
To the sewers! Stinky bats!!
Two-face snitches, and their shameless acts.
Feb 21, 2013
Feb 21, 2013 at 3:48 AM UTC
the garbage truck didn't turn up to-day
and the neighborhood trash stunk all day
a gross smell drifted across the street
it was akin to a rotting pile of peat
the council have heard the odd gripe
they've been told that the ******* is ripe
the residential area is no perfumery
our quarter acre blocks are so stinky
we'll be forced to vacate the neighborhood
as uncollected garbage is far from good
the air is heady with stale fish and curry
vegetable matter and an assortment of slurry
it is hoped that a truck can soon be found
as we'll be decamping the area's bounds
our noses have had a harrowing time
inhaling a stench which isn't sublime
Nov 24, 2013
Nov 24, 2013 at 7:42 PM UTC
I had a dream the other day I ran into a doctor, lawyer and a constable,
We came to an agreement that I had lost some part of me and that "I" am totally responsible;
Then I had another dream I ran into a doctor, cousolor and a poet,
We came to an agreement there's certain things you just don't delegate but before then I didn't know it!
So now I'm taking six weeks off and explaining why is basically the moral of this little rhyme,
I have to find that item I lost instead of intertaining getting high and ******* all the time!
There's a lot of back stepping I must do I could have lost it anywhere,
It's a powerful asset I've always had but I lost it somewhere over this past year.
It might be right next to you or me so please look around do you see it?
This is a necessary part of me I really need so I just can't ignore or say so be it.
I must retrace my steps to lead me back to what once led me to here,
To fix that error of my past when I lost the virtue of my despair.
Now a broken bone heals in six weeks and so I think this is a realistic amount of time,
This is a personal excursion I must take because believe me I feel all of your pain combined.
I have to find my virtue the disposition to keep on doing the right thing...
Without my positive attitude the strength and prudence I have just doesn't mean a god ****** thing!
You might miss me a little bit but I plead for you to stay away,
If you don't it doesn't matter cause I'm not answering my phone, texts e-mails nor doorbells anyway.
And if you've learned anything from me you'll listen to me when I say,
Loosing virtue is like jumping off a 55 ft. bridge you'll be hurting every day!
And if like me you ever lose your virtue you'll realize this then too,
You'll go on an excursion just like me this virtue you too you will persue.
Sediment, strength, prudence and wisdom go nowhere as far as prooving who one is,
Without the moral virtue we all have that allows us to make stinky things smell like roses.
Goodbye for now I'll see you soon and for me to do this you ought,
To love yourself much and me much too and for you... to Keep a Wonderful aThought!
Robin Ashley
Sep 19, 2015
Sep 19, 2015 at 6:03 AM UTC
Stinky and Hinky
Both egregious pigs
Set out to **** us all;
They don't care a fig
If all of us starve to death
As long as they get rich.
Stinky and Hinky
Each a venal summabitch!
Stinky hired Hinky
Two minds, one sewer.
Stinky had no talent
But Hinky was newer.
Many people doubted
That either had a chance
But over half the voters
Chose to skip the dance.
So we got two reprobates
With no regard for us.
So, without much fanfare
And no legitimate fuss
The country got overrun
Crooks got left in office.
Now they all are setting out
To, once and for all, off us.
Stinky is a *****
And Hinky is a bigot.
They crap on the Constitution.
And expect us all to dig it.
Stinky uses the USA
As his personal ATM.
Hinky is just evil.
We’ve had enough of him.
Mar 22, 2017
Mar 22, 2017 at 5:22 PM UTC