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Z May 2014
The parasympathetic nervous system
is responsible for regulations
unconsciously transpiring
within the organs and
the glands of
the body.
Such as:
urination, salivation, digestion, defecation, and
lacrimation
(noun. ‘the flow of tears’. Latin.
from lacrimare (‘weep’) and lacrima (‘tear’).
It’s why I cry
even when I don’t want to.
You are the parasympathetic nervous system.

The (ortho-)sympathetic nervous system
is responsible for the mobilization
of the fight-or-flight response
and constantly maintaining
homeostasis within
the body.
It acts
rapidly, enacting an attempt at stability and
the necessary and critical ability
to suddenly escape
on pulsing legs or
cling to survival through
brandishing adrenaline-doused knuckles
and dilated pupils.
It’s why you live
even when you don’t want to.
I am the sympathetic nervous system.

The parasympathetic and sympathetic nervous systems
are two of three essential nervous systems which
compose the autonomic nervous system
(a part of the peripheral
nervous system)
that manages
involuntary
functions of the body. Such as:
swallowing, perspiration, arousal, breathing, and
heart rate
(noun. ‘the speed of the heartbeat’.
usually expressed in beats per minute. mine speeds up when I see you).
Individually these two systems oppose
but compliment
each other like our hands do—
pressed together and omitting equal force;
veins meeting
at the fingertips and throbbing at the wrists
but running amuck on our respective digits otherwise.
You are the invariable and unspoken reminder to
breath,
love,
sweat,
and live.
I am the sudden snap of reality always aiming to save you
but grudgingly willing to fight you and
ready
to
leave.

From the deepest lower half of my brainstem
and from every nerve
in my cycling body,
I’m sorry.
From all of my chromaffin cells
and from the truest parts of submandibular ganglian,

I am sorry.
ConnectHook Oct 2017
HEAR YE HEAR YE
It's a wedding bell for bedding well cause' we're crushin' the illusion of Russian collusion! CNN wets on Russian bedding but Trump bets on Russian wedding, and you're invited to the bridal shower. Punking the monkery, dig the debunkery; from Rasputin to Putin it's time for some straight shootin'. Hillary looks old and glowers at Donald's rumored golden showers. Our media owes US an explanation for streams of steaming urination, but we are willing to forgive and use their wet diapers as debt wipers. My poem's appeal may take a toll, but let its little peal now roll:

******, ******
rings the bell
A Fake News warning; time to spell
out what was wet with Moscow girls.
Putin's putas ?  Wisdom's pearls
were pried from Truth's reluctant shell,
banishing Hillary straight to hell.
None. It's what we want left over
from this hag. We now discover
beds were dry; it all amounted
(all those golden tricks recounted)
to less than a tepid bowl of kasha. . .
Russia laughed from her summer dacha.
InfoWars was on it first
while Dems spun lies from false to worst,
awarding cash for faked dossiers
embellished with the CIA's
well-trained performing circus-seal.
The FBI endorsed the deal
as RINOS horned in on the action:
Washingtonian distraction;
a democrat-concocted fuss—

. . . but we ALL paid Hillary to **** on us.
TRUMP / PENCE 2020
**** on the Fake News !
HILLARY for PRISON
SUBVERT GLOBALISM.
kirk Oct 2018
I came along to your garden, to see your chillies growing
Unaware of what laid in wait, or what was really showing
There stood a glass a lidded drink, familiarity of knowing
If that's what I think it is, I don't want it overflowing

Do my eyes forsake me, is that a fluid from the body
Is that froth of a good beer, or from a head that's shoddy
Does it look like what it is, a very dodgy toddy!
Ghoulish drinks will turn you green, like Goblins are in Noddy

What the hell you thinking off, with water that's distilled
It smells like the local gents, so it should not be spilled
I don't mind a special brew, but this time I'm not thrilled
Unusual cocktails are okay, but not ones you have filled

Aren't beverages supposed to be, refreshing and thirst quenching ?
You say that it's good to drink, but really it's gut wrenching
An endless supply you may have, but it should be toilet drenching
Don't ever make a wankers drink, by using a fist clenching

You wouldn't want this drink on tap, it defies imagination
It's just the same as a lady, drinking her own *******
It maybe the water of life, but it's just urination
Aqua vitae is not my idea, of a real drink designation

Even just the thought of it, makes me feel sick and hazy
To drink a glass of this stuff, you must be ******* crazy
Well talk about recycling, or are you just bog lazy
Is Harvey Denton related, or do you live in Royston Vasey

People like to drink sometimes, is there something I have missed
You seem to have your own ideas, but with a certain twist
A brand new meaning you have brought, to getting yourself ******
Golden showers are one thing, but that's when your sexually kissed

There's one thing I'd like to know, so what do you say
Why do you think that drinking ****, will keep the germs away
It cant be very good for you, it's an inside body spray
Your just drinking toilet water, hay Jay are you ****** today ?
This is a response my sister sent I thought it to be a worthy mention:

Ha ha ha he he he , a poem about a man that drinks his own wee , I should have guessed I should have known, because when I told you the seed was sown , so very funny, I think it's great , for all the laughs , well done mate
Criminal
O Criminal
This deceit you leak reeks
Of sour lemons and urination.

Criminal
O Criminal
This pride you flood smells
Of blueberries and broken dreams

Criminal
O Criminal
These miracles you bring leave a miasma
Of grape Faygo and suffering souls

Criminal
O Criminal
The peace I bring leaves an aroma
Of blue raspberry popsicles and lonely depression
This is a poem I wrote from Terezi's view in homestuck. Even if you're not a homestuck fan, I hope you still enjoy!
If any of the following side effects occur while taking prednisone, check with your doctor immediately:

More common
Aggression
agitation
anxiety
blurred vision
decrease in the amount of *****
dizziness
fast, slow, pounding, or irregular heartbeat or pulse
headache
irritability
mental depression
mood changes
nervousness
noisy, rattling breathing
numbness or tingling in the arms or legs
pounding in the ears
shortness of breath
swelling of the fingers, hands, feet, or lower legs
trouble thinking, speaking, or walking
troubled breathing at rest
weight gain
Incidence not known
Abdominal or stomach cramping or burning (severe)
abdominal or stomach pain
backache
******, black, or tarry stools
cough or hoarseness
darkening of skin
decrease in height
decreased vision
diarrhea
dry mouth
eye pain
eye tearing
****** hair growth in females
fainting
fever or chills
flushed, dry skin
fractures
fruit-like breath odor
full or round face, neck, or trunk
heartburn or indigestion (severe and continuous)
increased hunger
increased thirst
increased urination
loss of appetite
loss of ****** desire or ability
lower back or side pain
menstrual irregularities
muscle pain or tenderness
muscle wasting or weakness
nausea
pain in back, ribs, arms, or legs
painful or difficult urination
skin rash
sleeplessness
sweating
trouble healing
trouble sleeping
unexplained weight loss
unusual tiredness or weakness
vision changes
vomiting
vomiting of material that looks like coffee grounds
Some prednisone side effects may not need any medical attention. As your body gets used to the medicine these side effects may disappear. Your health care professional may be able to help you prevent or reduce these side effects, but do check with them if any of the following side effects continue, or if you are concerned about them:

More common
Increased appetite
Incidence not known
Abnormal fat deposits on the face, neck, and trunk
acne
dry scalp
lightening of normal skin color
red face
reddish purple lines on the arms, face, legs, trunk, or groin
swelling of the stomach area
thinning of the scalp hair
MicMag Aug 2018
door opened
door shut, then locked
first morning urges
body greets the dawn

toilet seat up
pants unzipped
waste tube carefully aimed
flow turned on

trickling stream
becomes rushed torrent
small splashes
leave no mark

on steep polished porcelain walls
water slowly turning
clear to yellow
light to dark

liquid waste
flushed down the drain
shows signs
of dehydration

advising body
drink more water
restart the cycle
of urination
Everybody pees!
Robert Ronnow Aug 2015
**** Burton examining Liz Taylor's ****** sphincter for blood.
      That's love.
            ****** love. Pornographic, anthropological, primate love.

                           --------------------------------------

Newton wrote the Principia
      So only serious mathematicians would comprehend.
            "I've been faking my way through life," he lied.

                           --------------------------------------

They say the white pine whispers
      What the wind can't say.
            In the blowdown there's a slow ballet.

                           --------------------------------------

I am a citizen of the empire.
      Moonlight & heartbeat.
            Zach's feet stink.

                           --------------------------------------

One hawk.
      Flying low, scaring crows.
            No snow.

                           --------------------------------------

Watres pipyng hoot.
      First, entertain. Then expectorate (spit).
            Lapdancer, spiderweb.

                           --------------------------------------

Summer morning, rabbit in my garden.
      Let it be or send a warning.
            Let the rabbit eat my peas.

                           --------------------------------------

Avoid the I,
      Avoid yourself, and enter the void?
            I think not.
www.ronnowpoetry.com
Ruby Nemo Jul 2018
There comes a time in man's gentle endeavors in which their person flutters through. Not perfect, not even close. When all of the essentials are blatantly missing, but nevertheless you chase. And it's not the chase; it cannot be, because that chase is distinguishable from all else.

Though still, the heavy burden provokes. Why? Well, man may claim the uncertainty of such an underdeveloped string of emotions, yet in some fashion this is utterly obscure. If my opinions not be discerned from a folly fool, let my brain be put to rest!

No, I say, it is much deeper than that. When simple dining becomes strenuous, and the tear ducts loose, another vague instance is to blame. It is not the result of a mere first glance. It is not the result of the wave of a hand. Hell, it is not even that which has evolved from a childish fling. It is something called My Person Condition.

And it is more complex, still. It is worthy of noting that a condition is identified in a modified fashion. See that this is no disease, no ailment, no illness. An unfortunate victim has no hopes of returning to their former, less-impaired self, but their opinions are clouded so fully that this, to them, brings upon great advantages. Yet the scars and piercing truths that lurk within MPC prove to be a particularly heavy load for most to carry.

The earliest symptoms may include the following: loss of appetite, perspiration, anxious breathing, spotted vision, hallucinations, reclusiveness, futuristic thoughts, rage, severe bipolar tendencies, self-contradiction, loss of sleep, loss of energy, sorrow, hopefulness, nightmares, and ****** rejection resulting in extractions such as emesis, urination, and excessive bleeding. Patients will also find difficulty in restricting their thoughts to those which do not include their person. The danger that lies within this condition is extensive, but can be overturned with the proper care and medical attention.

Perhaps I have refrained from discussing the most detrimental force assigned to any MPC sufferer, and that is the false sense of progression of mental feelings of stability. As days move on, and nights drag out into the next, new faces are introduced at an increasingly rapid rate. This can be destructive in the sense that the victim will gain a false grip on reality. They will reject further treatment, stand down in a circulation of positive vibrations, and cease to recall the importance of their continuous efforts against their condition.

A day rolls around in several years. They share feelings of gratitude and affection with another being, pretending that their person has left their mind for good. Until the radio threatens to remind them of so long ago, the compulsive nights that were spent in pursuit of an extra pinch of knowledge. Until the box fills the patient's ears with a sweet melodic voice spun from pure gold and coated in the finest finish. MPC revives itself like a flame inside their heart, inside their bloodstream. Renewal flows through their veins at a painless rate - until a grin spreads across their face, their head is turned back around, and there they are.
My Person.
07-06-18
onaldayrawfo Apr 2015
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David Walker Oct 2013
Bang bang
**** ****
Aw ****
I work it through a hose
and **** out the deluge
Cardboard houses
and razor **** straps
And my eye is dilating
as my heart races
I explode in a rage
Of wind and acid
A blow tube in my vein
A blackened eye
A cigarette between two lips
A train exiting the station
'All aboard!
**** **** yeah!
I do k-k-k ******* and k-k-k crystal **** and k-k-k ******.
Blasphemous cheese
Black holes
Brown eyes
Poopie trim
Unwinding ecstacy
Driven by speed anger and vengeance
Running behind the booming
Urination of oil and sludge
From my tail pipe
Blue Velvet
Black cake
Purple hoses
Red tubing
Nose bleed
Big cheese
**** me
Venom
Cruelty
Sage wisdom
Magic sage
Marijuana
Marijuana
Marijuana
I am not jesus
I am just a ******
I am just a ******
I am just a creep
a ******
a cheat
a lie
a ****
a cheap little ****
****!
**** away.
Blow up!
AHHHHHHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
Al­l play and no work makes Jackie boy lazy.
Rage
Rage
Death
End this brain flow!

BANG!
ChawzzyScript Feb 2013
Often, we men take for granted,
That you've simply performed an edict of biologic cyclical reproduction.
And not wonder of the incredible largesse that has befallen us.
I am so profoundly transformed by the beauty of your love and your unselfishness.

Though we men oft complain of the seemingly irrelative by-products of this process we go through,
None can compare to the bloating, frequent urination, nausea, emotional turmoil,
Weight gain, wacky food choices, back pain, impatience, depression, negative self-image,
Waddle walk, belly steering wheel dilemma, inability to tie your shoes, hunger,
Relationship insecurity, cornucopiate vomitus, skinny lady envy, clothes no longer fit-itis,
Swelling ankles, chocolate cravings, diarrhea, headaches, pelvic pain, stretch marks, and what should be unlawful super odorous flatulence.

What you've done for us in the space and time of nine months
Is nothing short of the joyous miracle God has bestowed upon us.
I am awestruck that the place I pleasure in most for its tightness and firmness,
Was stretched beyond the limits of what I fear I will never be able to compete with.

I love you as no other man has loved any other woman,
My heart's eyes swell with tears, as it can not express or contain this overwhelming feeling.
For the love I see in their eyes, the endearment I feel when they utter my name(Dad!)
The gift of our three children, aside from the love of my God, and the fascinating adventure of our wedding and marriage, will never be superseded by any other joy; and for which I am forever truly and entirely grateful...!!!

-----ChawzzyScript
neth jones Dec 2023
blood                                                  
blood patter and splash                            
leads us         concrete toward
tracing back        til the scene        
i’ve flashing thoughts of the brutality
   the violence     that must of cussed  
  between persons            
         in fear    fray    and inebriation

down the steps                                     
            my four year old child and I go          
the greasing bleed     in bronze putters  
growing and leadening
on stone labours

glowing citrus    the refrigeration
                          of the underpass
          ‘flips the bird'   at the summer blaze
grey dead coral bricks of urination  
seasoned in deep   beading now cold
the broke up weapon                        
                   candy slates of brittle teeth
glass / bottle / beer /brown
    the neck its' hilt              
     and the main mud of the bleeding

the flies are the thing                                
                         th­at bothers my ‘little nipper’
usually a flapper of queries on repetition
no other queries are raised
     just eager for the vibration
      of train carriages gatling over our heads

i stopper any words i may have on the matter
  he holds my hand with his hot hand
we progress under a port arms                                   
                            procession of caged floodlights
      and walled in by fresh graffiti
fingers dripping   retching for the guttering
Observed 23/06/23

unused -

on thickened walls      painted on over and over
by the neighbourhood watch
a  narrowed burrow
Edna Sweetlove Dec 2014
EDNA: Hello there, Dan my dear, please take a seat, but before you sit down, just let me put a plastic sheet over the chair.

DAN: Thank you so much, Mrs Sweetlove.

EDNA: Now, Dan, please tell me why you are known far and wide as Dan, Dan, the ***** Old Man. How did you come to acquire such a salubrious soubriquet? Don't spare us any of the more sordid details. My readers are all agog.

DAN: Well, there are three aspects to my dirtiness. Firstly, my sanitary arrangements and personal hygiene. How can I put this delicately? [scratches head in puzzlement and several lice are dislodged, much to Edna's distaste. She squirts them with super-strength LICEOKILL.] To be blunt, Edna, I don't wash much and I very seldom change my clothes. This means I smell quite strongly. And, as you will observe, my skin is quite grimy and unpleasant to behold; the boils and sores are not attractive to many people.

EDNA: Fortunately I am afflicted with a rather bad head cold at the moment, so I can't really whiff you too strongly. However, I can see your skin is disgusting and your clothes are a total disgrace. Tell me, is there any particular reason why you are so careless of your hygienic duties?

DAN: Well, I see it as a vicious circle. If I were to take a bath or a shower, I would only get ***** again quite soon. And anyway, getting dressed again in my old clothes means any olfactory benefit would be negated. Again, if I were to put on some clean clothes, they would only be rendered odorous by my unwashed body. And defecation and urination tend to get your lower parts ***** two or three times a day anyway, even if you wipe thoroughly which I don't. So what's the point, unless you want to waste all your life on synchronising cleansing activities? Also, between you and me, I quite enjoy the stench of my own unclean body. And it has several benefits: I always get a row of seats to myself at the cinema and I normally have no problem with queues when I go shopping: people tend to give way to me as a mark of respect.

EDNA: And the second aspect of your dirtiness?

DAN: May I talk to you freely about ***, Mrs Sweetlove?

EDNA: Oh yes, be frank! [nods eagerly] Be frank!

DAN: Well, let's put it like this: I am not very particular when it comes to ***. I can honestly say I have never ever turned down a ****** approach of any sort. I am, of course, bisexual and when I feel like a bit of impersonal *******, I nip down to the public lavatory in the park and have some there. What I normally do is wait by the ****** and whip out my grimy, stinking **** and flash it whenever someone comes in. I don't care who it is. What does it matter? Most people run away in horror, a few attack me and shove my face down a pan, but one or two let me **** them.

EDNA: What sort of people would that be, dear?

DAN: Usually tramps, the short-sighted, people with no sense of smell, degenerates, psychos, masochists, you know. A reasonably varied selection. Buggers can't be choosers. Who cares anyway? I've been arrested by the cops a few times, but they don't like to put me in their nice clean police car, so they usually let me go with a bit of a thumping. Which I quite like anyway, although it's cost me several teeth [shows hideous maw of rotting stumps].

EDNA: And how about when you feel like a little bit of the old hetero rumpy-pumpy action, Dan, my love?

DAN: To be honest, I don't get much rumpy-pumpy, even though that's probably what I'm most famous for. Speaking candidly, not many women fancy anyone as filthy as I am, even lady tramps have to draw the line somewhere. So I tend to have to be a bit pushy when I feel like a bit of female company. What I usually do is lurk around girls' schools, ladies' gyms, ballet dancing classes, hockey grounds, netball pitches, the park where the young mums push their babies' buggies, anywhere really where you get women and girls in reasonable numbers. When I see someone I fancy, which is anything female between sixteen and the grave, I just drop my pants and show them what I've got down there. They scream a bit but I can usually get a quick one off the wrist before they've run too far. I've been arrested a few times for that too, but it's a hazard of the game of love, I feel.

EDNA: [gulps excitedly] I think you mentioned three reasons why you are known as a ***** Old Man par excellence......

DAN: Yes, well the third one is a bit more personal. You see, I have a very sensitive stomach and I often get very bad indigestion, which means I **** and burp a lot. And I frequently ***** too, as you can see from the state of my trousers - this is probably a reflection of the fact that my kitchen is crawling with rodents and insects large and small. And did I mention this last bit? I really like eating my own snot in public [voids nostrils onto grimy paw and gobbles product thereof].

EDNA: I'd like to thank you, Dan, for sharing your opinions, emotions and ambitions with me and my readers here today [switches off tape recorder]. You truly are an unusually repellent *******. Get out of my lovely house.

*[END OF INTERVIEW]
Derek Yohn Sep 2013
What has become of my lost brothers?

Trimmareus, the insane voice of the sensual pig,
     who fled from his blue mural
     to the land of jazz and muffaletas
     only to discover the senselessness of clothes...

Peter, the pine tree apostle,
     who paved the way to indifference
     on a needle point, silently
     prophesying the burning of Atlanta (in Atlanta)...

Time Crisis, the first disciple of
     the salt or pepper Antichrist,
     who physically assaulted his mind
     in an attempt to defy gravity,
     finally settling for three
     squares and a cot...

Amante, the disturbed and uprooted lover,
     who, by some accounts, fancied
     urinating in the face of his
     keepers.

All of these brothers have fallen,
cherub wings or no, and the
meek are left behind in
quiet speculation of our vain attempts
to ***** out these small campfires
of insurrection.

We have taken the low road,
carrying our hearts in wicker baskets
and our monkeys on our backs,
spitting and cursing about
time love money *** school work
life the safety bar money ***
violence apathy love and time
when we discover we do not have
the ones we feel we need.

          (do you want peace?)

We cried over the death of the apostle
knowing he had martyred himself
for no particular reason, and
after vilifying his role and path,
attempted to follow his lead
into the night regardless

          (I make peace.)

We vomited on the lover's dossier
in response to repeated professions
of innocence and conspiracy
at the hands of the merciless
system (created by sensuous hands).

The outsiders can see the dragon,
rising out of the depths
and whispering our demise like
sweet nothings in the ears of the
desperate hopeful;

          (Come and be free in my sunshine.)

the beckoning of the crashing surf
and the beauty of the half sun
radiating and filtering our
reservations into happiness at the
acts we commit in its name

          (Sacrifice to me your children's tongues and hearts,
               send them away bleeding and crying.)

We are the pure of heart in
this sick land of Golgotha,
where the rain is only the urination
of our higher powers, the
soap we cleanse our souls with
and witness to others so
that they too can enjoy
this ancient bliss.

          (Visit my website and see...)
Jack D Serna Sep 2015
Dear Mr. Television,

There are poor air quality in national parks.
Californians are painting their lawns green.
A ****** Galactic pilot survived failed space mission for billionaire.
Santa Cruz lost an 8 year old and found her dead in a recycle bin.
Berkeley police in riot gear hunted a man with silver teeth for robbing laundromat.
Jamestown archaeologists found first American settler remains.
LA mayor second guessed Olympic games.
SF sign said "hold it!" to keep urination off public domains.
LA police handed out "quality of life" citations to homeless people.
Opinions urged citation clinics for the "service resistant".
Others said it's all in vain without any housing.
Mexico made Presidential candidate Donald Trump into piñata,
      but the people have taken enough swing at him already.

Your pal,
Newspaper
Bob Dylan style, for emphasis.
Piercing with the paled eyes
Doctor gave verdict:  
‘’It is spread thru water,
has to be cared’’  

"No, it is because of
seeing Vangoh’s paintings"
Friend commented.

"Following the funeral procession of
Jose Arcedio Buvendia every day".
Lover ridiculed.  

"Without searching for job
sitting idle
swallowing the news papers".
Father scolded

"Giving no importance to feed
Untimely urination
thinking many pranks.. "
Mother panicked.

"It is the yellow card shown by god
for the foul committed"
Priest prophesised.

Hey, you all those who gathered
with complaints around my liver
coloured like  a crock pecked mango
please remember:

Often life turn yellow
when there is no greenery around.
shirley temple Aug 2011
Cracked an eye,
still a smooth blanket of dark.
Glue unstuck, the pebbles tumble
to my brain and scoot and sing
across a caffeine urge,
simple movement,
groggy knowledge.

Urination, caffeinated, contacts in,
rockslide.
The inner bump and stumble,
never slowing,
Dead awake.
Shelby Hemstock Jul 2013
New York City,
Said the same by masses
Yet reflected upon
Uniquely by individuals
To some it's just a place to visit
And they would never live there
To others,
New York is a haven
A shoppers delight
An amusement park
The city so nice they named it twice
Those who are lucky enough
To have been to New York
You always have at least
One crazy story
The definition of crazy being,
"Possessed by enthusiasm of excitement"
Meaning,
"This one time I was in Bushwick
And I gave a guy directions,
Then he invited me to a cannabis cup.
It was crazy."
Or there's this other definition
Of crazy meaning,
"Fooling or impractical. Senseless"
Crazy New York stories often
Associated with the second definition
Usually involve a homeless person
And urination
Whose ***** it is,
Well that's another story
I can sum up my New York
Story in a minute
If you live here
That's all strangers ask you anyways,
"Where you from friend?"
So I've rehearsed my story a bit
I've gotten pretty good
At expeditiously answering
The questions that follow,
"So what made you
Move to New York?"
"So do you go
To school for it?"
"Where do you work?"
And,
"Do you have
A cigarette?"
My answers,
"I followed a group of friends
To document their experience
As rising musicians
Eventually “Train Robbers”
Was formed and I
Shot an abundance of videos of those
Said musicians busking.
They would preform inside of
60 miles per hour subway cars,
Finish a song or two
Collect the loot
Then bail
Hence, “Train Robbers”.”
I’m mostly self-taught
In the fields of film making
Writing,
Photography,
As well as guitar,
The guitar you can tell
After months of watching
Then later re-watching
In the editing room
These musicians,
Counting up all that easy money
Stacking all the ones
Then forcefully folding
The *** of bills
Into their pockets,
I too then started to play guitar
On the subway.
And no, I don’t have
A cigarette.”
Chris Ott Nov 2011
oh sure, they'll tell you in passing
"expect a few sideffects, headaches,
nausea, suicidal thoughts, increased
urination. nothing too worrisome."

what they don't stress is the thinness
that those headaches stretch your mind
out to. or that they never go away. that you're
running to the bathroom twice every ten
minutes, once to ***, and once for the need to
almost *****.

but these are whiny words
in a pharmaceutical world.
even i can see that.
****, bathroom break.
Tommy Johnson Sep 2014
A line has been drawn
And you have nothing to say about the height chart in the door frame
***** smocks
The ebbing and flowing of passengers in the middle seat
Who do nothing but leave coffee rings everywhere they've been
And say, "my left shoes has a sturdier soul than I do!"
Then forget to close the toaster oven
Rusted lamp posts and artificial flavoring
The Kettle telling The ***, "don't do me no favors"
I see clear coasts and those who've missed their boats
They should have taken their piece of cake
Now, this is gonna hurt me more than it hurts you
Getting back to business and usual
Better make that eyelash wish count
It's a free for all
It's sibling rivalry
For all the brown-nosers
Who live up to their reputations of raised leg urination
Give me a pull start
And then demote me to cabin boy
       -Tommy Johnson
Vivekanshu Verma Apr 2020
Riddle in Rhymes,
During Corona Times
By Toxic Detective for Indian Society of Toxicology (IST)
Vomiting is nature's protective reflex against ingested toxins with my bitter alkaloids, accidental by innocent kids,
Bitter is Killer 💀, As a thumb's #rule, in medical science; but most of life saving medications are also bitter 👅, instead;
Vomiting after ingesting me, protects you medically as well as legally, in court of law leads;
Prehistoric #judicial systems determined guilt or innocence in a legal #trial, for human misdeeds;
By subjecting the accused to a dangerous experience, traditionally known as “trial by #ordeal” misusing my seeds;
Whether one survived such an ordeal poison of mine,
was left to control of divine,
to be freed;
and escape or survival was taken to indicate innocence on behalf of the defendant, instead;
The roots of this custom lie in the Code of #Hammurabi and the Code of Ur-Nammu, the oldest known systems of law, reads;
Numerous West African tribes from #Calabar, depended on my toxic bean in jurisprudence, in needs;
Also renowned as ordeal poison or #lie-detector bean, for rulings in their early courts, impledes;
Tribal #Nigerians, misused toxic action of my beans to detect witches & people possessed by evil spirits, who concedes;
#Judicators, would feed numerous seeds, what they called “ordeal poison,” to the accused; if he or she was innocent, indeed;
Hypothetically, God would perform a miracle and allow the accused to live—and the court would have its ruling, proceeds;
If the reverse was true, of course, guilt would be “proven” the moment its sentence was successfully carried out, in recede;
I am a climbing leguminous plant in forests, can be poisonous to humans when chewed, as beads;
I am a large, herbaceous perennial vine, with a woody stem at the base, as natural weeds;
I produces a large, purplish flower with intricate visible veins; attracting innocent Kids;
My flowers yield a thick brown pod of a fruit, contains 2-3 kidney-shaped seeds;
it’s not until rainy season (June through September) that my fatal plant Breeds;
In monsoons, my fruits, capable to produce its best, most toxic beans; indeed;
I am named botanically by appearance of my fruit “a snooping beak-like solid appendage” physo- means “bladder,” at the end of the stigma Beaked;
My toxin is reversible cholinesterase inhibitor, which acts on the autonomic nervous system, leads;
My poison disrupts communication between the nerves and organs of victims, it needs;
In this regard, I acts similarly to nerve gas, which results in contraction of the pupils, recedes;
Profuse salivation, convulsions, seizures, spontaneous urination and defecation, exceeds
Loss of control over the respiratory system, and ultimately death by asphyxiation, as due to secretions, airway blocks & impedes;
Antidote to my poisoning is the slightly less toxic tropane alkaloid atropine, which may often succeeds;
Though myself toxic, my alkaloid proves an effective antidote for poisoning from another deadly plant, Atropa Belladonna seeds;
Guess my name, causing Vomiting, as Lie detector for your means: when an Ordeal poison, impleads;
References:
1. Pillay, VV. Comprehensive Medical Toxicology. 3rd Ed. Jaypee. 2018 p612-15
B Aug 2014
it's funny how another friend changes situations
we used to be tight now he's the bread i'm the crum
drop it on the floor let it soak in the sun
rats come and nibble smell of urination

i've seen some foul **** in my life but this was the one
can't contain your jealousy let the evil coma come
never seen you make a face like that
you look so ****** dumb

i got no respect for you
you musta been drunk on ***
or blowin the coke out your nose
how long did it grow
your heart musta rotted
cuz it didnt even show

it's sickening how your money glistening
but your spirit ugly

i'm broker than ever but still happy in love
you couldn't take to see that so you smug
you just a jealous *** punk *******

i learn my lesson who my real friends are
it don't matter or not whether you drive fancy car
love unconditional no matter how successful you are
not get jealous when they see you as a happy rising star
Breanna evans Jan 2019
I'm terribly sorry, my dear

for you see, I was on my way

up the stairs to fetch them,

post haste,

when unexpectedly,

I was accosted

by a sudden,

uncontrollable urge

to empty the contents

of my colon,

in more the fashion

of the process of urination

than of defecation
Sam Temple Aug 2015
bladder cramp sends my sleeping body to the toilet
eyes crusted and full of the sandman’s wears,
I catch the momentary glimmer
slightest shape or form
hovering gently
above mom’s shrine.
eagle feathers and owl claws
adorn agate jars and fossil chips
beaded leather hangs from above
and the bone dreamcatcher sways
yet I feel no breeze…
passing though the hall
on the way back from urination
more awake in myself
I look over the area again,
hoping.
Kenneth Gray Nov 2020
Thanks!
You really showed me who's in charge
As I now deal with this goey, thick discharge

And you really caused me to consider castration
As days pass by while dealing with painful urination

Thanks alot!
Your moves were all really beautiful spectacles
So much so that I now have painful testicles

We were kissing, licking, twisting and twitching
I guess that explains the severe **** itching

Thanks, but
You do show room for great improvements
This I ponder while having unusual bowel movements

You do know that this might cause us to divorce?
I'm just so sick and tired of having painful *******

But you still think you're all that and endlessly gloat?
Hah, Id do the same thing, but I've got a sore throat

But Thanks
You've molded my spirit animal into a ******
Am I going crazy or have I contracted a fever?  

I guess I'm just another one of your victims
I wish I was lucky with no noticeable symptoms.

Oh well!

I guess that's it girl, I guess I'll see ya
Thank you again, for giving me gonnorhea!
Thanksgiving is coming up soon. What is everyone thankful for? For some reason I decided to be thankful to my ex for giving me gonnorhea lol. Its just a fictional story though. I wanted to write about being thankful, but then I was reading something and the word gonnorhea came up. I laughed and thought I should write up a funny poem about being thankful for contracting it. I've never had it though haha haha! I looked up the symptoms online and wrote them down. Then wrote lines to go with each symptom. Voila... There ya go! 😁😂
Yet upon another reflexive routine dash
skipping to Waterloo, I got emboldened
with idea praising basic vital functions
aware requisite elimination of liquid
and/or solid waste any obstruction
disallowing body to expel toxins would

prove fatal, thus gratitude toward
regular unpicturized, unhindered, and
unaided intervening measures undertaken
to experience thee nonpareil pleasures
actuated without purgative, yet should
instance arise finding impossibility

to exercise sphincter muscle
(constipation worse fate than
perdition) alleviating solid state brick
like blockage spasm inducing agony
within me ***, yours truly racks impound
did severely inconvenienced physical

self accessing natural remedy to soften
stool temporarily incapacitating peaceful
ease zee ex-lax feeling accompanying
experience that approximates how pregnant
mother inundated with contractions ready to
give birth, whereat merciful joyous crying

emanates courtesy this humble human, no
matter he never tested his steely ironic
mettle say completing wilderness survival
course, but rarely speculates such grueling
boot camp self inflicted challenges
pale in comparison to loosing bowel

movement big enough to sink battleship, and
mighty exertion finally dumps payload,
the toilet bowl hastens meteorologists to
issue tsunami warnings insync with "****
the torpedo" this ole windbag blasted clear
across contiguous United States, where

whizzing, sounding, jet setting like
speeding bullet (self Mach re:) puzzled
onlookers mistake me for some foreign entity
lost in space analogous to detect a stylish alien
(pants bunched around ankles - most definitely

tell tale clue, asper rating him hip hopping
longfellow), yea undoubtedly a messenger
from outer limits of twilight zone sent to...
wait...his trumpeting **** gaseous, an utter
farts feigning "FAKE" comet tee.
Jonathan Finch Jan 2017
The drip sunk in his arm
he looks out; sees the bone beneath the nurses’ skin,
loose in their leanings.  

It is over : death
out of his vein, the drip
sunk in,
the drip with its minced ******* of blandishment.

They will save his life,
abort a quintessential,
struggling gentleness, a life he has
placed in her womb,
a tiny pulse too light.

“It is ridiculous,” he murmurs,
as the pretty nurse leans over, tightening the band.
The blood thumps into strained normality,
the overdose has petered out in yellow urination

dripping tears.
A pull, and it is out
in the bucket.

Squashed, he continues,
suicidal, for tumultuous reasons, small abortions, live.
zebra Nov 2021
THE SECRET RITUAL:
Irrespective of the wonderful *** you might have with others, or any ideals you may have about who, when, and where to engage sexually, sometimes the *** that you have with yourself gives you something impossible to achieve with another.

To be specific: what I’m speaking of are the internal mental constructs of performative ****** acts that are unrestricted in the imaginative world, and that one would never be able to consider in real time. Those masturbatory shadows of the deep and deeply ****** that few are able to acknowledge about themselves, and certainly remain unwilling to talk about with someone they maybe intimate with, for fear of its destructive impact on the relationship.

A shape of language
for the secrets of the body
for the secrets of the mind
in the flow of matter
physical and etheric
cyber chronicles of ambulated hunger
the cult of the body.

YOUR SEXULITY IS SACRED TO YOU, NOT SACRED FROM YOU:

Obviously moral sensibilities and the limits of temporal life dictate what we may do. We may be imaginative, bizarre, freaky and incredibly *****, but we are not crazy, at least not all of us, yet that doesn’t mean those shadowy ****** denizens of the deep don’t bathe in the great fathoms of our respective subconscious abyss.

My darkest desires
bloodletting streams
are a kind of ******
fetishy cognitive inventory
malformed denizens
of the subconscious.

THE PARAPHILIAS:
“Paraphilia is the experience of intense ****** arousal to atypical objects, situations, fantasies, behaviors, or individuals.”
Current data supports that about one out of every 6 people, irrespective of gender or ****** preference, experience some kind of paraphilia.
Here is a list of paraphilias that is a focus of ****** interest:

Andromimetophilia: Trans men.
Anililagnia: Attraction by young men to older women.
Anthropophagolagnia: ****** and then cannibalizing another person.

Anthropophagy: Ingesting human flesh.
Apotemnophilia: Being an amputee.
Asphyxiophilia: Being asphyxiated or strangled.
Attraction to disability: People with one or more physical disabilities.
Autagonistophilia: Being on stage or on camera.
Autassassinophilia: Being in life-threatening situations.
******* asphyxiation: Self-induced asphyxiation, sometimes to the point of near unconsciousness.
Autogynephilia: ****** arousal of a biological male in response to the image of himself as female.
Auto-haemofetishism: Bleeding oneself (does not involve ingestion of blood). Type of autovampirism. [contradictory]
Autonepiophilia: The image of one’s self in the form of an infant.
Autopedophilia: The image of one’s self in the form of a child.
Autoplushophilia: The image of one’s self in the form of a plush or anthropomorphized animal.
Autovampirism/Vampirism: The image of one’s self in the form of a vampire. Involves ingesting or seeing one’s own blood.
Autozoophilia: The image of one’s self in the form of an animal or anthropomorphized animal.
Biastophilia/Raptophilia: ****** a person, possibly consensual **** fantasy.
Capnolagnia: Smoking.
Chremastistophilia: Being robbed or held up.
Chronophilia: Partners of a widely differing chronological age.
*******: Feces; also known as ****, scatophilia or fecophilia.
Coulrophilia: Clowns, jesters, and mimes.
Crurophilia: Legs.
Dacryphilia: Tears or crying.
Diaper fetishism: Diapers; considerable overlap with paraphilic infantilism.
*******: Trees.
Emetophilia: *****.
Eproctophilia: Flatulence.
****** asphyxiation: Asphyxia of oneself or others.
Erotophonophilia: ******, often of strangers (also known as dacnolagnomania).
Exhibitionism: Exposing one’s genitals to unsuspecting and nonconsenting others.
Feederism: Eating, feeding, and weight gain.
Formicophilia: Being crawled on by insects.
Forniphilia: Turning a human being into a piece of furniture.
Frotteurism: Rubbing against a non-consenting person.
Gerontophilia: Elderly people.
Gynandromorphophilia, Gynemimetophilia: Transgender women.
Hematolagnia: Drinking or looking at blood.
Heterophilia: Idealization of heterosexuality and/or people who are “straight-acting”, especially by non-heterosexual people.
Hoplophilia: Firearms, guns.
Hybristophilia: Criminals, particularly those who committed cruel or outrageous crimes.
Infantophilia: ******* with a focus on children less than five years old; a recently suggested term that is not in general use.
Kleptophilia: Stealing; also known as kleptolagnia.
Klismaphilia: Enemas, arousal and enjoyment in receiving, administering, or both.
Lactophilia: Breast milk.
Liquidophilia: Immersing genitals in liquids.
Macrophilia: Giant beings; the imagined growth of beings.
Maschalagnia: Armpits.
Mazophilia: Female *******.
Masochism: Suffering or humiliation; being beaten, bound or otherwise abused.
Maiesiophilia: Pregnant women.
Mechanophilia: Cars or other machines; also “mechaphilia.”
Melolagnia: Music.
Menophilia: *******.
Metrophilia: Poetry.
Microphilia: Very small people or small body parts.
Morphophilia: Particular body shapes or sizes.
Mucophilia: Mucus.
Mysophilia: Dirtiness, soiled or decaying things.
Narratophilia: Obscene words.
Nasophilia: Noses.
Navel fetishism: Navel.
Necrophilia: Corpses.
Objectophilia: Specific inanimate objects.
Oculophilia: Eyes and activities directly relating to and/or involving the eyes. Voyeurism does not meet classification for this term.
Odaxelagnia: Biting or being bitten.
Olfactophilia: Smells and odors emanating from the body, especially the ****** areas (as from breath, *****, feces, flatulence, etc.).
*******: Arousal from having a full bladder and/or wetting oneself, or from seeing someone else experiencing a full bladder and/or wetting themself.
Paraphilic infantilism: Dressing or being treated like a baby, also known as autonepiophilia or “adult baby syndrome”; considerable overlap with diaper fetishism.
Partialism: Specific, non-genital body parts.
*******: Prepubescent children, also spelled paedophilia.
Peodeiktophilia: Exposing one’s *****.
Pedovestism: Dressing like a child.
Podophilia: Feet.
Pictophilia: ******* or ****** art, particularly pictures.
Piquerism: Piercing the flesh of another person, most commonly by stabbing or cutting the body with sharp objects.
Plushophilia: Stuffed toy animals (“plushies”).
Pygophilia: Buttocks.
Salirophilia: Soiling or dirtying others.
****** fetishism: Non-living objects.
****** sadism: Inflicting pain on others.
Shoe fetishism: Shoes, such as high heels.
Somnophilia: Sleeping or unconscious people.
Sophophilia: Learning.
Sthenolagnia: Muscles and displays of strength.
Stigmatophilia: Body piercings and tattoos.
Symphorophilia: Witnessing or staging disasters such as car accidents.

Telephone scatologia: Obscene phone calls, particularly to strangers; also known as telephonicophilia and scatophiliac.
Teratophilia: Deformed or monstrous people. The term is also sometimes used in a more literal sense (from ancient Greek τέρας, teras, meaning monster) for attraction to monstrous mythical and fictional creatures such as werewolves.
Toucherism: Touching an unsuspecting, non-consenting person with the hand.
Toxophilia: Archery.
Transvestic fetishism: Wearing clothes associated with the opposite ***; also known as transvestism.
Transvestophilia: A transvestic ****** partner.
Trichophilia: Hair.
Troilism: Observing one’s partner engaged in ****** activities with another person.
Urolagnia: Urination, particularly in public, on others, and/or being urinated on. Also referred to as “water sports”.
*******: The idea of one person or creature eating or being eaten by another; usually swallowed whole, in one piece; also known as vore.
Voyeurism: Watching others while naked or having ***, generally without their knowledge; also known as scopophilia or scoptophilia.
Wet and messy fetishism: Messy situations, including, but not limited to, being pied, slimed or covered in mud.
*******: Animals.
Zoosadism: Inflicting pain on animals, or seeing animals in pain.
~~~~~
A REAL-LIFE PROFILE OF A WOMAN ACUTELY AWARE OF HER DARK FETISHY SIDE
Primary Fantasy: Dehumanization, objectification. I love the idea of being kidnapped and converted into meat.
(Fantasy obviously!!)
I also enjoy preservation, taxidermy, dollification, weird stuff like that!
Other Fetish Interests:
Hucow
Medical
Lab scenes
Necro
Morgue
Hanging
Lethal injection

MAKE THE UNCONSCIOUS CONSCIOUS:
There is much written in-depth psychology about ****** pathologies caused by repressed or shadowy disowned parts of ourselves and how those neglected forces may determine unwanted fate. Shame and self-deception is not our friend. Know yourself.

Pleasure is so close to ruinous waste
nakedness wrecks decency
degradation feeds the bonfire of hunger
and the wound of desire bleeds away within

leave nothing
but the bleeding edge
ruin me she said.
~
Beyond hearts mastery
hullabaloo crime scenes
like night jungles
of tooth and claw
in corridors of neuron ghosts
while **** licking succubae
*** livid pornographic hieroglyphs
fed by the dreaded
excesses of testosterone
towards some ruined
blood spotted
hanky-panky *******
just to remind me of you
and how it hurt just so
and how you loved me for it
whoever you are.
....
https://medium.com/@4zebra2u/the-secret-***-life-we-keep-from-our-selves-7f227dbc6c4a
And here. 
Among wights. 
Missing all tickets unsold. 
Calling all who lived and felt. 

It is colder. 
And the wounds are raising. 
And again with revenue as to portray. 
"It is gone." She says. 
And I dream. 

Of that razor to steal my heart. 
And who steals my blood daily. 

Though not as to compost. 
Poisoning flowers. 
Oxidizing. 
And fermenting her soil. 

Soon again. 
I will drink. 
My ears warm. 
The morn brings leashed air. 
A chuckle at present. 

Of the last. 
Of past words misunderstood. 

Once of four. 
And once of five. 
And yeah, we speak in high tones. 
In vague terms. 

Of times arrived. 
Departing flights forgotten. 

Many moments undersold. 

Still I taste. 
A forced kiss. 

Too loved to unleash. 
And so I wonder who said, "Who?"

Oh bother. 

Speech of idiots. 
Words ******. 

I deny all salves. 
All soothing. 
All encompassing. 
Sweet chestnut colored love. 

Curves to hold and suffer subsurface. 
Sans scars. 

Food tomorrow. 
After today, food tomorrow. 

I recall her taste. 

As recalled, I remember. 

The violence. 
And pride.
After the meal. 
The tears and the urination. 

After theft. 

I swam. 
With those who denied. 

And those who gave. 
Who took?

She sat. 
And I swam. 

And they spoke. 
The water. 

I emerge on new skin. 

Skin of those before. 
Of dreams wondered. 
Dreams failed. 

I pursued and entered. 

A feast. 

A drink. 

Soft pelts.

A bed and works of excuse. 

Drowned in water. 

Drowned in love. 

My sweet ancient temple. 
The skies of false truth. 

And the ******* of an angel. 

The miss of one married. 
Scarred. 

Loud speeches. 

Parades across the globe. 

And hopes of love. 

Goodnight sweet muse.
Tragedy.
And here. 
Among wights. 
Missing all tickets not sold. 
Calling all who lived and felt. 

It is colder and the wounds are raising. 
And again with revenue not as to portray. 
"It is gone." She says. 
And I dream. 

Of that razor which left with my heart. 
And who steals my blood daily. 

Though not is in compost. 
Poisoning flowers. 
Oxidizing. 
And fermenting the soil. 

Soon again. 
I will drink. 
My ears warm. 
The morn bring air leashed. 
 A chuckle at present. 

Of the last. 
Of past words misunderstood. 

Once of four. 
And once of five. 
And yeah, we speak in high tones. 
In vague terms. 

Of times arrived. 
Departing flights forgotten. 

Many moments undersold. 

Still I taste. 
A forced kiss. 

Too loved to unleash. 
And so I wonder who said, "Who?"

Oh bother. 

Speech of idiots. 
Words ******. 

And I deny all salves. 
All soothing. 
All encompassing. 
Sweet chestnut colored love. 

Curves to hold and suffer subsurface. 
Sans scars. 

Food tomorrow. 
After today, food tomorrow. 

I recall her taste. 

As recalled I remember. 

The violence. 
And pride.
After the meal. 
The tears and the urination. 
After the theft. 

I swam. 
With those who denied. 

And those who gave. 
Who took?

She sat. 
And I swam 

And they spoke. 
The water. 
I emerge on new skin. 

Skin of those before. 
Of dreams wondered. 
Dreams failed. 

I pursued and entered. 

A feast. 

A drink. 

Soft pelts.

A bed and works of excuse. 

Drowned in water. 

Drowned in love. 
Temporal. 

My sweet ancient temple. 
The sky's of false truth. 

And the ******* of an angel. 

The miss of one married. 
Scarred. 

Loud speeches. 

Parades across the globe. 

And hopes of love. 

Goodnight sweet prince.
Von White Feb 2019
Imagine figures of sanitation.
Drenched in ammonia and urination.
Insane perceptions purge in disfiguration.
Imagine ***** beneath blisterd bloodied feet.
Rest on alter sharpend blades.
that cut flesh quaintly deep.  
Sick at sights of dreaded sheep.
Hahahahaha
In the woods once more to be disdained.
Pleasure be the self inflicted pain.
Druged up and floating far away.
**** everything.
Despair and anguish ****** up all things.
Rhyming words with words cause **** creativity.
Just pet the duck with that tweaked out sad lady.
It’s all just jokes that leaves even the ill laughing.
Yet once more reality and mockings become blurred in such confusion.
Living life laughing while crying in delusions.
Lyrics/poetry
wordvango Jul 2017
cures range from ice packs to an anti-inflammatory diet
to a blunt to a long walk with a dog
to a fifth of JD to writing sonnets or listening
to some badass Miles Davis blues and
work has its way of lessening the impacts
of those tendernitis
symptons that include
pounding hearts
intense sweating
headaches
dizziness
frequent urination (my **** Dog has this)
work hard physical labor
lifting 100 50 lb bags of mortar off the backass of a van
then 50 boxes of porcelain
has a way of making one's back
make one's head too tired to fret
and ignore the dog **** in the corner
and just come  in and
grab a beer light a blunt, sniff a line, snort
shoot up, whatever your pleasure,
just pat her head and let her jump all over you
(***** *** feet she has)
and sit on the couch
sipping --pause the world revolving for a minute--
getting tender is for painters
******* it
painters drink wine
Emma Brigham Oct 2017
Small and quiet, fluorescent,
the room holds anonymous faces.
People waiting for flu medicine,
hopes and fears and minor concerns about rashes
that we thought would go away.
Frequent urination
a tremor in your left hand.
A business man closes his eyes and kneads his brow.
He sits tensely in a blue upholstered chair
and smiles at me when he catches me looking.
Ruffling pages in magazines
like a moth's wings.
No mayo, rye bread, a nurse says.
Tapping her lavender acrylics
to music just low enough not to recognize.
Mind on shuffle, dreams achieved and
failed dreams of medical school,
little ones tripping and laughing out of double doors,
lining up to be whisked away in Suburbans or Geos,
carrot sticks uneaten at the bottom of a backpack.
A doctor sets a clipboard in front of her
and words are hastily typed into a computer.
And I wait for her to call my name.
Graff1980 Nov 2017
Sleep deprivation,
extreme caffeination,
and frequent urination
to the point of dehydration,
what a dangerous
work combination.

— The End —