Famous Cussed Poems by Famous Poets

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• Cussed Poems by Members
• Best Cussed Poems by Members
• Cussed Quotes

The Black Dudeen

 Humping it here in the dug-out,
 Sucking me black dudeen,
I'd like to say in a general way,
 There's nothing like Nickyteen;
There's nothing like Nickyteen, me boys,
 Be it pipes or snipes or cigars;
So be sure that a bloke
Has plenty to smoke,
 If you wants him to fight your wars.

When I've eat my fill and my belt is snug,
I begin...Read more of this...

The Old Cow Man

  I rode across a valley range
    I hadn't seen for years.
  The trail was all so spoilt and strange
    It nearly fetched the tears.
  I had to let ten fences down
    (The fussy lanes ran wrong)
  And each new line would make me frown
  ...Read more of this...

The Ballad Of Caseys Billy-Goat

 You've heard of "Casey at The Bat,"
 And "Casey's Tabble Dote";
 But now it's time
 To write a rhyme
 Of "Casey's Billy-goat."

Pat Casey had a billy-goat he gave the name of Shamus,
Because it was (the neighbours said) a national disgrace.
And sure enough that animal was eminently famous
For masticating every rag of laundry round the place.
For shirts to skirts prodigiously...Read more of this...

Bill The Bomber

 The poppies gleamed like bloody pools through cotton-woolly mist;
The Captain kept a-lookin' at the watch upon his wrist;
And there we smoked and squatted, as we watched the shrapnel flame;
'Twas wonnerful, I'm tellin' you, how fast them bullets came.
'Twas weary work the waiting, though; I tried to sleep a wink,
For waitin' means a-thinkin', and it doesn't do to think.
So I...Read more of this...

The Red Retreat

 Tramp, tramp, the grim road, the road from Mons to Wipers
 (I've 'ammered out this ditty with me bruised and bleedin' feet);
Tramp, tramp, the dim road -- we didn't 'ave no pipers,
 And bellies that was 'oller was the drums we 'ad to beat.
Tramp, tramp, the bad road, the bits o' kiddies cryin' there,
 The fell birds a-flyin' there,...Read more of this...

Thars More In the Man Than Thar Is In The Land

 I knowed a man, which he lived in Jones, 
Which Jones is a county of red hills and stones, 
And he lived pretty much by gittin' of loans, 
And his mules was nuthin' but skin and bones, 
And his hogs was flat as his corn-bread pones, 
And he had 'bout a thousand acres o' land. 

This man -- which...Read more of this...

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