"wieners" poems
Haters, haters, hiding in the closets, hiding in faeces
your putrid minds full of fears and all your weaknesses
You are not men but degenerates and cowards in excesses
but in your attempts to distract away from your deseases
Look the parents you have and you know you're like rat fleas
you lack a lot which makes you so angry and in pieces
Washing once a week on other days its wet towel on faces
smerge on stunted wieners never to be a winner at the races
You're un-cool all you do is pretend but you ain't got the aces
as charmless as chicken *** you're the left-behind in chases
Never had a true compliment because you have no graces
deep down you're a mess and petrified of background traces
You have ***** linens and bad secrets buried in bad places
you're nasty, think nasty and 've done things that debases
Always afraid you pick on your betters rocking in perfect places
full of inferiority complexes real abilities get up your noses
You've wet your bed and at night you knowyou're *********
playing macho when in reality you want to do men's *****
Nobody likes the faceless cowards and abject scorn they entices
partners and frenemies are there for themselves and free passes
They see through them and smell their weakness without paces
faking laughter at their hate and anger at winners they despises
Haters are sick sad losers miserable inferiors with dark devises
never happy, never content just slimy cowards in dumb disguises
Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 8:29 PM UTC
Life for me began as an egg, it wasn't really a special egg, just a regular egg shape with some green splotches .So, you were just like the Platypus and the Echidna ?. Exactly like the Echidna and Platypus .Well not quite exactly, those creature are mammals,
I'm more like a lizard, I'm actually part dinosuar.
My mother is a dinosuar like creature known as a Dinosapien, But I'm more human than she was. I'm about 60 percent human , though I do posses Lizard organs , My eyes are ,
My heart and lungs are, So is my ****** my appetite and my tongue
I can taste the air, Just like the snake . Em, but dinosaurs don't do that
How dya know ?, Well because of science and Jurassic park
Yah, I'm sure their both official sources, any way, so how come were having this conversation ?, well that's the one thing about dinosaurs , they were notorious for having one sided conversations with themselves, ya mean they were bonkers ?, no not crazy and once they left the nest ,were pretty much losers, I mean loners.
What about mating?, Well they had wieners ya know, no, not that and what about female dinosaurs ?, well the females didn't care , they just wanted a male for about 3 minutes, if he was lucky maybe 3 and a half, the males were more concerned about ****** contact with the ladies. So, I guess there was a lot of dudes ******* each other then ?
em, I think this conversation is over now
Feb 13, 2013
Feb 13, 2013 at 12:30 PM UTC
toaster strudel makes me doodle
eggo waffles feed my poodle
sriracha hot sauce makes my gut toss
taco salad tastes like farts.
smarty thinkers with big wieners
clear the way for bathroom cleaners
dangerous pokemon in the sky
teach me things like how to fly
supple ******* against my chest
your ****** is hard and so are the rest
eat this pear
munch with care
put those shorts on
watch me stare
take a bath in tasty grease
my wiener is small to say the least
now let's race inside this tub
we'll see who get's out first
should we get out?
Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 9:04 PM UTC
Many have said it couldn't be done.
But I've done it, I've put two wieners in one bun.
Double the meat, but triple the fun.
Heartiest sensation found under the sun.
Look at you there smirking with your ***** mind.
Thinking I mean two penis's in one behind.
Society is at fault so I look no further.
But I truly do mean a frankfrankfurter.
May 2, 2016
May 2, 2016 at 3:01 PM UTC
I love my lola
no one can touch what I love
I get both of best worlds
give it and take it
I am who I am
deal with it
wieners and ****** are best accompanied by ******
lola lola oh how I love my lola
Nov 9, 2013
Nov 9, 2013 at 10:04 PM UTC
The sun blazes down on me
I crave it more than ever
How will I ever satisfy myself
I see the wieners, spinning right in front of me
I ponder if I should even bother
The price may be too great
Can my mouth handle something that long?
It starts to moisten
I give in and reach in my pocket for $1.50
The hot dog is mine
Feb 6, 2015
Feb 6, 2015 at 12:42 PM UTC
Hang Man
Demons come from out of the shadows,
to hang us all with wooden gallows.
Our time is up, on this land called Earth,
its all we've known since our birth.
Time to pay for all our so called sins,
while we hang, they stick us with pins.
After we die, we're thrown into a giant hole,
every second, you can see another escaping soul.
Is this judgement day about to begin,
maybe ****** moved back to East Berlin.
People linked with cuffs and chains,
they burn what's left of our remains.
One by one, we're put in a noose,
not to tight, but not to loose.
While you hang and gasp for air,
they skin you like a tasty fresh pear.
The hole is consumed with fire and flames,
the devil and his silly little games.
This must be the foulest stench,
they drink our blood when they need to quench.
So much smoke it blocks out the sun,
they eat our wieners with a bun.
You can see them laugh as we all hang,
like were some part of an old wild west gang.
Our planet is still dark to this very day,
in god we trust, should be in god we betray.
This so called god, didn't even lift a thumb,
to believe in him now, you must be dumb.
Earthquakes and volcanoes, destroyed what was left,
on this Earth, we are nothing more than a visiting guest.
Sep 17, 2013
Sep 17, 2013 at 12:11 PM UTC
I'll write to you
John Wieners
you old twisted fruit long
dead & drained of brilliance
brain inherited from Burroughs
you analytical ****** John
long gone are the hours you
spent in bars in bed in someone's
*** like Ginsberg you are the
emotional man who ran his
fingers through the flesh
of frozen moments tenderness
exhibited in elegies of
departed lovers no dope
sunrise sheltered by your
words the refuge of poetic
gnosis brought from Beats
to Black Mountain **********
Moloch men mounting
one another thighs apex near
sun to receive the final fatal
flash of pleasure then descend
again to madness like
Kerouac you sought the silver
honey-milk of bohisattva jazz
jive held eternity in a frozen
moment and a moment on a
page made offerings to the
hideous grey gods of machinery
and read the neon streetlight
hieroglyphics you who busted
mind-forg'd manacles of Blake
with consonance and assonance
and *** of boys born bravely
to the ecstasy of final drunkenness
& one last cigarette O
prisoner of earth and of the body
you are risen!
Jan 29, 2017
Jan 29, 2017 at 1:42 AM UTC
With my hand, I touch my leg
With my feet I touch the ground
With my heart, I touch my ribs
Beating slow, without a sound
wieners
Mar 19, 2013
Mar 19, 2013 at 3:58 PM UTC