"weenie" poems
Naturist, skinny dipper
But never ****** waver;
Some of us are exhibitionists
A point I hope you savor.
I am into keeping clothing
Something more than minimal
But, I should not ever be
Thought of as a criminal.
After all, the same people
Who piously point to their Bible
Ignore that we are born ****
And every other word is libel.
It simply makes no sense
To impose laws on a poor sod
And then paint yourself with
Trappings of some ancient god.
I don’t take my clothes off
To discomfit you even a little
But your frothings-at-the-mouth
I regard as simply spittle.
I have never agreed with your
Mesopotamian mythology,
And I disagree with it all,
With no remorse or apology.
But bear this in mind, please
I resent you pushing on to me
A way of living that I feel
Is very uncomfortable to be.
I don’t ask you to be naked
If that is not right for you
But to tell me I must not
Is an offensive thing to do.
The idea that a tiniest bit
Of what is so honestly me
Is such a horrendous and
Disgusting thing for you to see
In a world of thongs and bikinis
And pushup padded wonder bras
Is a matter of gross hypocrisy
And to me, an ignoble cause.
Mar 7, 2016
Mar 7, 2016 at 10:07 PM UTC
Who gives a ****
so I wrote another winer, boo hoo you twit
think anyone cares, just who gives a ****
I am just a grain, of sand in the wind
my pain is nothing and the horned one just grinned
yeah so now I'm bitter, my attitude *****
I'd kick your *** for a lousy 5 bucks
its only a flesh wound I've certainly had wurse
I'm a wineing ****** I'll hit you with my purse
got pains in my arms, and I'm a pain in the ***
had Taco Bell for dinner, and now I got gas
my stomach is rumbling, think I'm sick just a bit
why don't you tell me now, just who gives a ****
the Dow is down, my pressure is high
cholesterol is big, can't eat no sweet pie
I'm a no good *** full of vinegar and spit
do you really think, anyone gives a royal ****
at least they finally plugged, the leaking of oil
that's what they claim, sing for me Susan Boyle
the problem with peaches, in the middle is a pit
if I choked on one now, just who would give a ****
yes I've had me some wine, and I'm a pathetic dude
my mouth can get foul, yes I can be crude
wonder what it would be like, to be Brad Pitt
I guess one is enough, like who gives a ****
tomorrow is Monday, so glad I don't work
in customer service or a grocery clerk
listen to ******* about the service they get
c'mon now, you think I give a shit
I could probably rant, for more than theirs time
the jaws flapping on, my hands covered in grime
this year's British Open, no Americans seemed fit
it's all over now, and really no one gives a shit...
Gomer Lepoet...
Jul 18, 2010
Jul 18, 2010 at 9:52 PM UTC
Let’s face it: we’re not all George Clooney.
Most of us need a little help scoring with chicks.
Our dicks—the archetypal genital signal—
Are hidden from sight, &
****** wagging
Will get you arrested.
Perhaps, pheromones may be the answer.
Dr. Winifred Cutler’s Bio:
(As read by Don Pardo, postmortem).
“Biologist and behavioral endocrinologist Dr. Winifred Cutler was the first to establish the presence of human pheromones in 1986 when her team removed sweat from human underarms and found that only the odorless materials that contained pheromones remained.”
Blessed are the
Underarm Sweat Removers,
A Labor cohort
Soon to be SEIU smorganized . . .
Organized, smorganized. | Karen Koedding, Productivity ...
https://www.linkedin.com/.../organized-smorganized-karen-koe...LinkedIn Organized, smorganized. Jan 7, 2015. 209Views; 11Likes; 3Comments. Share on LinkedIn; Share on Facebook; Share on Google Plus; Share on Twitter.
Ka-Ching.
Ka-Ching.
And Andy Stern’s suggestion,
Probably the best for anyone
Searching for a new mate, or
Wanting to move up,
Move up to a new relationship plateau,
Move up to a higher class of ******
Open your nostrils.
Take a deep breath.
Bio continues:
“Dr. Winifred Cutler
Founded the Athena Institute in 1986,
Selected that name
Signifying the mission;
Helping women increase
Wisdom and skill,
Relative to
Their Bodies,
Their Health,
Their Wellbeing.”
Why not a Nobel for Dr. Cutler?
Testimony follows:
“Pheromones magnify my mojo.
I wear the love potion that makes
The most gorgeous gal in the bar--
That kind of gorgeous gal,
Usually out of my league—
Makes her look my way.
Welcome, my fingers
Touch her siren shoulder.
She turns,
‘What do you want?’ she asks coyly.
‘Um, want to dance?’ I manage.
She grins, looks me
Up and down—
Mostly down—
And says, “Not really.”
The verdict?
Apparently, the scent of pheromones is
Still overpowered by nerves.
Let’s face it:
Women can smell fear.
Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 4:57 PM UTC
.
****
**** *****
Wiener Pecker U
nit ***** Piece T
ool Thing Shaft
Member Doink
er ***** Cack C
hour Chub Pud
******* Wanki
W a n g D ing
a ling Ding Don
g Kielbasa Brat
worst Meat Pop
sicle Meat ther
mometer Bolog
ny pony Salami
Sausage Tube
steak ****** P
orkSword Nood
le Banana Corn
dog Magic wan
d Staff Divine R
od Love muscle
Third leg Tonsi
l tickler Power
drill Jack hamm
er Wedding tac
kle Bat Club Rod
Pole Joystick Ja
ck-in-the-box S
kin flute D-trai
n Mr . Happy B
a ld - headed yo
gurt slinger Lon
g **** Silver Ji
my Johnson Kn
ob Captain Win
ky One eyed W
illy One eyed M
onster Peter On
e eyed trouser
snake The Sala
mander Horse
**** Lincoln lo
g Tootsie Roll F
Lesh trombone
Meat stick Meat
whistle Dobber
Wanger Woody
Shake weight T
iffy Frank and
the beans Ch o
a d t h e dirty
wise man *****
Harry nut cann
on Flesh flute
Satan's clarinet
Sexophone Th e Mayflower ( on
account of all the Puritans who came
on it ) The Wea p o n of A s s
destruction junk mail
Oct 28, 2014
Oct 28, 2014 at 1:37 PM UTC
i'm unwinding my head
on
honey moon belly
******* carnivorous lozenges
falling in love with glazed
eye ball devils
hypnotic stare
destination
a tunnel of fiendish odysseys
blood drooling eel
vomits gush white
daddy long leg threads
in honeys wet cage
to wither
writhing spit hot
in fat muscle and bone
headless
head first
like a mindless falcon
after scattered mice
i feel her teeth tearing
syringes of ecstasy
ransacking swollen motion spirals
and ***** like bronz buckaroos
at a fancy pool party
crimson *** macabre
****** roast bon bon fire
licking her lump of desire
a rousing boogyman sermon
speaks in incinerating tongues
swallowing a hideous parfait
**** growl
girl squat
**** ****
mint julip throat
choke symphony
abducting lascivious pollinated gulps
take me in like reckless bull sap
through your red
dada warp land
pit of the brain
undulant flesh landscape
of shapeless ovule spume
mouthing night blows
Incised flagellation's
devour buffet spread maiden derelict
arched and trembling
drunk and drugged
like a buttermilk sky
groaning hysterical
in feral muck stained beds
of puce and slime ochre pigments
stunned umbra
a famished
deep veined jutting peninsula
longing for princess ***** dynasties
with vast thighs radiating inferno hearths
and rolling hill **** hieroglyphics
decipher rug pugilist lap songs
my goddess i long for your
bruised fruit
crawling like the dead of night
on pitch vanta shadows
where love becomes a savage
Aug 23, 2019
Aug 23, 2019 at 1:26 PM UTC
There was none of your itsy-bitsy, teenie-weenie bikinis at a fashion show of vintage swimwear in aid of the Cleveland Pools.
The costumes on show on the catwalk at Green Park Station were a much more modest affair, with a lot less flesh on view, and with some very interesting costumes which seemed to amuse the younger audience.
The Vintage Swimwear fashion show celebrated the last 200 years of bathing suits – the pools celebrate their 200th birthday next year.
Costumes from the last two centuries were modelled down the catwalk, with some interesting reactions from the audience, many of them design or fashion students from Bath Spa University.
It was a great turnout according to Sally Helvey from the Cleveland Pools Trust.
"We had a great night, and it really was great fun," she said.
There was a bar and barbecue hosted by Green Park Brasserie, and ice cream from a vintage Humphry van.
The audience also enjoyed a photography booth, and picture and video slideshows.
The Cleveland Pools is the only surviving Georgian Lido in the country, with a beautiful outdoor pool nestling in the back woods by the River Avon near the Bathwick estate.
But it is very derelict and will need millions spent on it before it can be re-opened again to the public. Last summer the trust received the welcome news the amenity is to be granted more than £4 million from the Heritage Lottery Fund, so plans are in place to have the pools restored and open for use again possibly as early as 2017.
A lot more funding needs to be raised to try and match the funds given by the HLF, and the fashion show, organised by Bath Spa student Jenny Brown, was just one of many events being organised over the summer.Read more here:www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/bridesmaid-dresses
May 24, 2015
May 24, 2015 at 10:33 PM UTC
Wut-A-Meenie
She was always making things up, she thought I was a ******
always playing tricks on me, she was such a meenie,
I thought I was a friend of hers, but I am such a dodo,
she probably put doggie do, in my chocolate Yoho,
I sent her cards of friendship, but she never opened mail,
guess she flushed them down the tubes, sent them out to sail,
guess I cannot blame her, this was her choice to make,
I am just an old **** and probably a big mistake,
for I have no rights here, no reason to expect,
that she would even give a glance, should show her more respect,
I over stepped my boundry here, although the sin was teeney,
I was the bad guy here, yes I was the real meenie
Gomer LePoet...
Mar 21, 2010
Mar 21, 2010 at 3:53 PM UTC
This is for the girls that have ****** you. This is for the pale girls with short hair, the "she could be a lesbian but I'm not sure" type, the beanie wearing bad ******* with heavy baggage and a surplus of bandages. This is for the sad girls, the shipwrecked sailors searching for a beacon, the bruised rib cages and ****** knuckles. This is for the condoms, the purple box you keep in the drawer in your bedside table that we have all seen, the repeated observation that you have no ******* clue how to put on a ****** without looking like a child trying to stuff a water ****** into a sock. This is for the silence, the overwhelming quiet made quieter by skin hitting skin, the active avoidance of eye contact. This is for the fact that you consider foreplay "stalling," the speed with which you can please yourself via another person's body, the ******* that we have all faked at least twice. This is for the general consensus that your performance in bed can be summed up in three words: insecure, selfish, and pretentious. You are the Kanye West of *** I'm not sure if you are going to let me finish. This is for the sore muscled sweethearts that saved your self-esteem and reassured you of your ****** orientation, for the courteous cuties who carried on until you came, this is for the girls that have ****** you. Godspeed.
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 11:28 PM UTC
These are voodoo days
When monsters have their way
With the good people alive
So the evil people can thrive.
This is a time when madness
Roams the land to pillage
And rename the boundaries
Of our fine global village.
Children once went to school
And we made sure they learned
What had happened to us all
When dissenting books were burned.
Then too many scary people
Got by with lying to us a lot.
They didn’t have us in mind,
And didn’t care what we thought.
So, their Halloween costumes seem
To only be visible to the eye
When you listen to their chants
Instead of just passing by.
If you listen closely to the words
And not just campaign speech,
You quickly see dictatorship
Is not far out of their reach.
When your friendly candidate
Starts sounding like a Mussolini
Standing up and calling them out
Does not make you a ******
No, it makes you more of true
Patriot caring for your country
Than guys in expensive suits
Who only care about their money.
Oct 1, 2018
Oct 1, 2018 at 12:26 PM UTC
Itty bitty teeny ******
Delicious and soft linguini
And you know I just hafta
Eat some of that pasta
Yep, one of the things in life that's good
Is eating a lot of yummy, yummy Italian food.
May 11, 2014
May 11, 2014 at 1:30 AM UTC
The light around me was all fading..
It was all fading into me..
All except for one..
It stayed in front of me unharmed by any of my darkness..
It shined and shined..
It was . . . . . . . .
I could not control myself.. I had turned into a black hole.. I was taking everything away.. The more I tried to stop it the stronger I became.. The darkness princess continued to laugh.. Her world was turly coming back to her.. Nearly everything was dark.. All except for one light.. It was not very bright but bright enough to make my eyes squint.. It was right in front of me now.. It would get right into my face and then back away.. It did this many times.. The darkness princess looked confused.. She tried to extinquish the light but could not.. The light slowly made its return toward my face..
" COME ON KID! " I awoke to coughing water.. It seemed endless. So much water was coming out of my mouth! I finally took a breath! There was a light in my eyes the entire time.. I then realized that it was a head lamp that was mounted on someones cap. I then heard a voice..
"Sorry let me take this off and quit shining it in your face.. Kid I thought you were dead! I gave you c.p.r! You fell into an old reservoir pool and you must of hit your head.. My ****** dog Angel found you and barked her head off. When I came to see what she was barking at I found you.. Your lucky I bought my dog fishing with me.. I guess she was barking OVER HERE HE IS OVER HERE! I called 911 they should be here any minute! " The paramedics showed up and took me to the hospital where I stayed for a week. I thank god for an angel that found me. Our at least a dog named angel. And I swore to never become a black hole.. When I do finally leave this life...
Feb 21, 2017
Feb 21, 2017 at 1:56 PM UTC
She slipped it into her mouth
her teeth
lightly grazing back the skin
allowing the tip of her tongue
to tease the soft warm flesh
Slowing moving it in and out
as she ****** gently upon it
with hungry lips
It's juices flowing over up tilted chin
and softly squeezing fingers
she felt it pop
filling her throat with what she craved...
sweet juicy hot dog ******
Sep 29, 2012
Sep 29, 2012 at 6:31 PM UTC
Look into my eyes.
Your eyes are getting heavy
You're getting sleepy,
Sleeeepy, sleeeepy.
Now repeat after me..
"I want to be your love slave".
I'd like to scuttle your puttle
Spiddle your paddle
Tickle your wickle
And twittle your taddle
Stroodle your doodle
Cromple your string
Brundle your strundle
And frondle your ding
Wear nothing, not even your bikini
I’ve spilled some gin on my ******
I thought this uncouth,
So I’ve added hermouth,
How’d you like me to slip you a martini?
Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 6:39 AM UTC
I love my parents, but they’re out of it.
For high school graduation, they gave me a gift.
A genie, three wishes, you get the gist.
A big responsibility for an eighteen-year-old kid.
What should I wish for? Well, I don’t know!
Beginning of summer, maybe I’ll wish for snow?
First semester of college, but I don’t wanna go.
Maybe I’ll wish to already know.
Know English, Spanish, math, science, and more,
But I’d rather know what’s on the ocean floor.
Why not cure cancer? Because it seems like a chore.
No, what I really want is the one I adore!
Genie, I wish for my perfect girl.
The most beautiful one in the whole world.
Give me a stunner, one that I can twirl.
Genie said wait, don’t give that a whirl.
I am all powerful, all knowing too.
So I know a secret, one about you.
Now don’t deny it, for you know it’s true.
You don’t like girls, or “doing the do”.
You, kid, are gay. Trust me, I’m the genie.
So don’t ask for a taco when you really want ******
Mar 7, 2025
Mar 7, 2025 at 9:39 PM UTC
I have all these voices in my head. They're very annoying.
That was hurtful
Like I care? I assume you're an extension of my own consciousness or so it has been explained to me by several therap-
They were all weenies
Oh thanks I'll let them know that your impeccable taste has just lost them the race to become the most non weenie-like therapist.
You see? These voices and I are always at a confliction yet I have this strange addiction, I seem to have my head always congested with unhealthy thoughts.
My lungs ***** with what ifs.
What if you used your fists instead of words?
My veins clogged with hypothetical tragedies.
What would you do if your little sister died? How would you seek revenge on the world?
My nerves of my crusty darkened lips, fried with expectations of what I'm supposed to do or accomplish.
You HAVE to get that A, you HAVE to get accepted, you HAVE to get that job, you HAVE to be kind, humble, understanding, smart....
My brain synapses all firing off in a spectacular sense of chaos as they are overwhelmed with thoughts of motivation, yet they will get lost in the mayhem before they will get through to me.
Learn that song on th-make sure you email the importa-she's counting on you don-
My stomach feels funny as the butterflies are disturbed by relentless thoughts of desire.
*Why do work? Think of her. Diamond hips swayin' and **** marble-cut legs stalking towards you. Think of her instead.*
What about your heart?
It beats with an irregular beat, it's jumpy and nervous.
Awww why's that?
You know why, you're the one that makes my heart ache with the pain of the unknown.
Who, us? We're not doing anything.
Shut up. You want to know what it is? That bewildered beat, that trembling tempo, caused by one thing.
The future
The future.
What an uncertain prospect.
We'll get you there, champ.
I hate them.
Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 1:39 PM UTC
.
******
weenieweenie
****** ******
****** ******
****** ******
weenieweenie
weenieweenie
weenieweenie
weenieweenie
weenieweenie
weenieweenie
weenieweenie
weenieweenie
weenieweenie
weenieweenie weenieweenie
****** ****** ****** ******
****** wienie
Sep 22, 2014
Sep 22, 2014 at 6:59 AM UTC
open up the fidgerator door,
drop the magnet that held the list and chores
looked for the dog caught a whiff of the floor
that little ***** **** on her delicate decour
im house sitting
now im wishing
i can still make the move on you,
making mac and cheese
eating all of there food
i brought you back here to impress
hopin i could get under the covers
even though i was under your dressed
i sliced and chopped
salads flopped and tossed
**** i was just hoping our meals would exchange
i made you gourmet
mac cheese and ******
got lossed while talking to her
made mixed drinks and flavors
taught being thankful
speaked more then r. kellys closet single
Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 6:48 PM UTC
Weak in the knees.
Trembling of the hands.
Stutters of words.
Fluttering of the heart.
Those are just a mere samples of what happens
when you step into the room.
The constant need to make you smile that
oh so adorable laugh of yours,
It’s something I can’t control.
The countless hours of preparation just for a one second,
second glance.
The soft yet noticeable blush
that somehow always find it’s way to my cheeks when you
pay a compliment or make fun of my clumsiness.
Is this real?
Or my overactive imagination?
I must do something.
If I don’t,
regret will definitely make its stay.
Here I go,
about to make the move.
It has to happen.
I see you.
I smile,
watching you enjoy the company of your friends always makes my day.
One step.
Thats all I have to take.
One tiny step and I can finally get to know the real you.
Alas,
As I get closer the fear sets in.
Will you say yes?
What will you do?
Will you take my hand?
Will you totally just turn around and ignore me forever?
I do not want that.
I like you to much.
Finally.
I arrive at your side,
patiently awaiting my turn for your attention.
You turn to me,
looking at me with those pretty close to perfect eyes of yours.
I look up at you,
about to ask,
about to say what I want to say.
What I must say.
I panic.
Heart beating more than a mile a minute.
I can’t do this.
Fear is definitely a challenge to overcome.
I open my mouth
Words that I do not want to come out,
Come out.
Although I get to see the smile I adore so much,
I don’t get to see it whenever I want.
Stage ****** has totally won this time.
But you wait,
yes sir,
you wait.
There will be a time when I step out of the cage that prevents me from what I want.
And that time?
Will be glorious.
It will most likely be funny.
I hope you’re ready.
It looks like it will happen sooner rather than later
May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 4:19 PM UTC
Picturing her is tough,
you'd think it'd be easier,
when I dream of her enough,
she's got brown hair with a past that's a little rough,
I mean relatability,
is on the key ring of comfortability,
a good smile,
and the first to kiss or say "I love you" first every once in a while,
a plus if she can write,
and not feel ashamed to sometimes be the first to apologize after a fight,
she's someone not looking to be found,
healthy and (superficially) not super round,
but can eat quesadilla's and chocolate cake in bed,
who listens,
but also knows what needs to be said,
a girl who giggles & smiles at my cheeesyness,
and says that it's ok that my life is a mess,
she makes love instead of *******
(sometimes a good **** is what we need though)
Knows how to get me oot of my head,
and is self reliant,
but also has trouble watching me leave,
she'll be fine with dancing/singing/kissing me in the rain,
and know all the right words and moves to drive me insane,
thick hair like a mane,
and doesnt care if I'm poor or have fame,
she'll appreciate my crazy music,
and will take care of me when I'm being a ****** when I'm sick,
who wants kids and that awesomely typical house,
she'll be loving and empathetic,
Loving Bob Dylan and dogs,
shorter than I is a must, and know's how to be the sun in my times of fogs,
adventuring but doesnt mind a good netflix and chill,
her eye's will be revealing,
with every look my heart she'll be stealing,
smooth sexiness withoot the need to be based on touch and feeling,
kissable lips,
grab worthy hips,
a girl I could laugh with for the rest of my life,
an honest wife.
I'll dream of her with a certain notoriety,
hoping I find her,
after a year of sobriety.
Oct 28, 2017
Oct 28, 2017 at 4:00 PM UTC
Lawrence Hall
[email protected]
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com
Opposite the House of Sculptures
“…unchanging, shrill, crazy exclamations and demands, which became progressively more impractical, meaningless, and unfulfillable…”
-Doctor Zhivago, Part Two, Chapter 13,
“Opposite the House of Sculptures”
O strong man, strong man, Supremo Alpha-Weenie
Please be our Putin, ****** or Mussolini
O strong man, strong man; tell us what to think
Pour us some Jim Jones; we’ll take a real deep drink
O strong man, strong man; tell us what to do
We’ll happily go to prison just for you
O strong man, strong man; clench your mighty fist
You put for us the “GO” in your “jingoist”
O strong man, strong man, you are our latest god
Please break us to obedience with your mighty rod
O strong man, strong man, you are our highest law
Whatever dribbles from your mouth we hear in awe
O strong man, strong man, we are your little elves
We promise to stow our history upon the shelves
And never, ever again think for ourselves*
Aug 10, 2022
Aug 10, 2022 at 11:46 PM UTC
when you were a baby
I gave you a name
called you "hope"
****** dog
I do things for you
that you can't do for yourself
in return you lick my face
when I tell you sit you obey
no words in our arrangement
no room for misunderstanding
you understand tension
sensitive beast
in ten odd years or so
you will be gone
you will be a ghost
and I will miss you so much
your warm body
my brown baby
****** doggo
a friend and a brother
Mar 18, 2018
Mar 18, 2018 at 6:56 AM UTC