Best Barf Poems


Premium Member Vomit

Am I vomiting?
Or do I throw down instead of up.
Singing with a sudden frown,
In barf upon a promised gown.

I wore it to prom as a virgin.
I wore it on my wrist.
A flower wrapped around the list,
Of ankles cankled ‘neath a face unkissed.

I’m a pimple.
Pop me till I puke.
Until the thrill of the up I chuck,
Quacks like a drunken duck.

Or high like the school?
Drooling with the fellow mule.
Assing through town unable to procreate.
The father’s horse and mom’s whatever. 

Hybrids are for textbooks.
Useless as the diploma.
I forgot the words to the theorem,
I forgot the words above them.

Am I vomiting?
Am I poeting?
I threw down instead of up.

Playing the Dozens


Your mama said my mama
was blacker than burnt white toast
My daddy said your daddy
was a vanilla, rice cake loving Oriole
Your brother said my brother
was a jive, jitterbugging jigaboo
My sister said your sister
was a nappy head, big lip snaggletooth
Your best friend said my best friend
was an empty can of dummy orange juice
My best friend said your best friend
was a cuckoo for Coco Puffs fruit loop
I heard you said that I
was a lazy, waging the tail barf boy
You heard that I said you
was a bowlegged, cross-eyed Barbie toy

As children
we were taught that stick and stones
may break our bones
But words could never hurt
Good advice though that may be,
we know better ... 
Words do hurt people feelings deeply

Tum

Aatish-e-junoon ki chingaari ho, beqaraar dil ka sukoon bhi
Androoni sard ki thandak ho, barf ko pighlaati maum bhi

Shab ki adhoori khwaab ho, sehar ka mukammal sapna bhi
Khayaali ek khooobsurat uljhan ho, suljhi hui haseen jawaab bhi

Dil ke taar se bajti tarannum ho, qalb mein chhupaane ki raaz bhi
Bewaqt khaamoshiyon ki wajah ho, arz ki hui dilkash ghazal bhi

Sannate mein saanson ki goonj ho, bandh darwaze ki dastak bhi 
Ankahee lafzon ki zubaan ho, khuli kitaab ki bayaan-e-daastaan bhi

Azaad parindon ki parwaaz ho, insaani bandhishon ki aaghosh bhi
Guzarte raaston ki pechchan ho, faasiley par ek an-chooyi manzil bhi
© Aruna Iyer  Create an image from this poem.


8 Mile Road

8 mile Road

Date: Mon, Dec 21 2015 at 1:50 AM

I hear the train coming
An I'm chasing the train humming
I see the smoke puffing
I see the light in the dungeon
I see fight Tussling
I see might Hustling
I see fright rumbling
I'm on the railroad
Following the trail to gold
I inhale the pros
I exhale the cons
I hear my name called on the intercom
The Voice of Megatron
Behind me Deceptions
Trying to make it to Cybertron
Sweat in my palms
An sweat in my arms
Sweat on my face
Tears smeared the Vision to Concentrate
Running without hesitate
No time to contemplate
Got to set the record straight
While in my headphones the record play
Can't be a second late
I see the pearly gates
An Hells devilish face
Laced Leg brace
An ankle weights
I can't catch a break
Cause I'm trying to catch the trains pace
I'm pushing people & devils out the way
To catch some space
My Angel on the train waving 
I'm running on the Pavement
They yelling to me Salvation
Gods good Graces
Mercy & Greatness
Glory & Gratefulness
The Story already Created
So I can't stop
I feel like I'm going to drop
My lungs feel clogged
My head throbs
But I'm holding to the Rod
Shadow of wings lift me
Demons trying to get me
I'm flying towards the trains chimney
A Seat made for me Empty
But I got to catch the next stop
So I'm flying to meet the train on the next depart
Strength in me starts to shock
Feel the strength in my heart
I look an see who's all in the carts
I see Rosa Parks
I feel like I'm about to barf
I'm almost there to meet my mark
The train stops
I walk up to the door

Premium Member I'M a Meat and Taters Guy

I can tolerate most any grub that is placed upon my plate,
Though I must be somewhat selective so as to control my weight!
I love a juicy New Yawk steak and taters with a slab of cherry pie,
'Cause I'm strictly a meat and taters sort of guy!

There ain't nothin' as tasty as a meatloaf with smashed pertaters,
With lots of gravy, new spring peas and fresh beefsteak termaters!
But spare me pickled pigs' feet or a feesh starin' me in the eye,
'Cause I'm strictly a meat and taters sort of guy!

I savor various kinds of soups and a good homemade stew,
And Beringer's White Zin wine with a delectable cordon bleu!
Sushi causes me to barf and pungent kimchi tears my eye!
I reckon by now you've guessed I'm a meat and taters sort of guy!

I relish the products hogs produce like sausage, bacon and ham,
And I don't care what others say, I'm an aficionado of good ol' Spam!
But Lord have mercy! Spare the anchovies, 'specially on a pizza pie,
'Cause I'm strictly a meat and taters sort of guy!

In these politically correct times, some folks might rashly conclude,
That since I detest certain grubs that I'm a prejudiced dude.
Well, that's their problem if we don't exactly see eye to eye.
It just so happens that I was born a meat and taters sort of guy!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved

Kal Raat Chandani Thi

Kal raat chandani thi,  mousam mein nami thi
halki si woh barsaat or barf jami thi
Per raas na aya azhar woh nazara
Mai tha, meri tanhaayi, bas teri kami thi


Premium Member Meat and Taters

Meat and Taters

I savor meat and taters but tofu and sushi make me barf!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired

Entry for Andrea Dietrich's "Food And Our Memory Connections" Contest

Premium Member Why Are Parents So Mean


Why are parents so mean,
when I won't eat anything green?

No broccoli, brussels sprouts, green beans, or green grapes,
these will always stay on my plate.

So, here I sit watching the green things wrinkle,
while I cross my legs holding my tinkle.

I got to get up, stuff them in my mouth, and
while in the bathroom, barf them all out.

Parents can be so mean,
if you don't eat anything green.

Premium Member Liver N' Onions

Take a pound of beef liver

   Shake it in flour

      Chop up one fair sized onion

         Fry in hot skillet

            Turn head and hold nose

                Feed to dog

                   Barf!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved

Premium Member The Grand Canyon

The Grand Canyon_what a sight
Aerial view a delight
Six passenger plane
Over the canyon strains
Into barf bag said Last Rites  

Inspired by Carolyn Devonshire's contest about vacations
Not an entry
About twenty-five years ago, we went to the Grand Canyon
and during the short stay decided to go on an airplane ride
over the canyon to get a bird's eye view. I get motion sickness
but it started off great. I go piece of cake, I can do this then 
we hit the turbulance over the canyon and I sat with a barf
bag the whole trip..The airplane would shake, the engine
sounded strained, and then it would drop and I would be 
in mid-air held by a seatbelt..My husband was going to 
film the whole trip for the future but when we hit the first 
pocket of turbulance he dropped the camera and filmed
the underside of the pilots seat for 20 minutes..

A Teen's Plea

Oh Mom, Oh Dad, Oh please, please, please,
I'm asking you on bended knees
To think of me when you decide
We all must visit Uncle Clyde.

I'm OK with his corny jokes,
His cough and spit, his constant smokes,
The smell of dog pee in the air,
The taste of candy growing hair==

But his dog Barf drives me insane.
The mutt's a pervert, pure and plain.
He will not sit, play dead or beg;
He only wants to hump my leg!

No matter where I choose to sit
He lusts for leg and goes for it,
He is so dumb.  He does not  know
I have no holes from thigh to toe.

He licks his ass, then licks my face;
And then to add to my disgrace,
You look away and old Clyde laughs
While Barf goes gaga for my calves.

Oh Mom, oh Dad, don't make me go.
My legs are not a  bitchie show.
Leave me at home.  Leave me with friends
Who would not dare to rape my shins!

Offensive Odors - That Kid

entry for offensive odor contest - everyone knew one of these kids. enjoy



There is always that one kid in all middle schools.
Who is unaware of personal hygiene rules.
Showing up to class needing no introduction
Because of their aroma causing nasal obstruction.

The other children convulsing in their seats.
Days they did shower were considered special treats.
For not many people enjoy smelling,
What resembles the odor of a pig’s dwelling.

Combining the stench of rotten fruit
With moldy cheese and a baby’s toot.
Are they oblivious to smell that chokes like a tight scarf?
Or do they enjoy making others barf?

If you ever cross one of these subjects
Who reek of gross failed science projects.
Ask them kindly to take regular showers,
So we can look at healthy, not wilted flowers
© J. Paradis  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Nevada Cowboy

There once was a cowboy from Nevada.
He wore a barf bag as a bandana. 
When he rode on his horse,
his sickness grew worse,
and his intestines flared with melena.

Pinocchio Was Pugilist

PINOCCHIO WAS PUGILIST
                                                      ))o((
                                           Pinocchio was pugilist
                                     Blasted Ponta Ponti's puke list
                                           Honk barf and stinker 
                                           Scumbag skunk sinker
                                  "Little git" he showed his nuke fist










          Pinocchio was pugilist: Limerick: Copyright © Rajat Kanti Chakrabarty
                                                  11/17/2014

Damning Sorrow, For Love

when I heard 
Miss Piggy laugh,
on those days ?
I would be OK 
between the oceans
of pain, we had paddled
to meet 


plastic bags of magic
hanging from fishing poles
wheeled in, by flying nuns


with blessings 
of water and love, 
we divined ways to forget, 
the moments in minutes 
when agony pushes through


to shave another piece off
our shared sheer will, 
and eating the pieces
were the demons
we all harbor,
unwilling jailers 
of repeat offenders
spot our roll-call


barf jokes became 
our Da Vinci Code,
and when one of us 
started losing ground 
it was you who brought
us back around, 
the eternal clown
no frowns allowed


rest in Elysian fields
my darling, 
in the wee hours 
eternity crept from eyes
and misted with disbelief,


from the oceans we traveled
we drink a drop 
to you our funny love,
and damn all sorrow 
to another day

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