Best Buttocks Poems
If you believe
This poem is about,
a black and white
COW
in the shower
...
You are wrong
It's about ;
MONKEYS
Monkeys in cages
Four times four meters
both in width and height
A sad life
They are bored
Shouting and screaming all day
One big mouth with powerful canines
Scratching their buttocks and licking toes
Within this monkey cage they get sick
They feel insecure and need control
Creating their own rules, it's about power
The result of the actions is called :
Psychological deviants
Hominoidea, called human monkeys
... I hope the cow enjoys the shower
22.08.2017
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
- Poem of the Week 27.08.2017 -
There's a path I always take
down to the river where the woods
are dressed down open
The light of the sky
doesn't shine in your eyes
but leads the way to redemption
I like to stand there for a moment
on the shortcut created by troubled feet
woven with wilderness bliss
and cigarettes butts
It's a path that never sleeps
I see the same semi-blind vision
of the river every time
I hear baby boat horns blaring in the distance
and floating out of view
I walk to the rhythm of the trees
the faint sound of Wild Thing
playing in the car
I carry a bent black rod
with a tangled neon line
and a mud-covered box of rusty hooks
and flaming red bobbers
I wear my T-Shirt that says Iron City Beer
that's cut off at the belly
or sometimes my other one
that says Just Do It
with shredded denim shorts
that ride my buttocks
After a few seconds of inhaling
and exhaling an indecision
I do what most fishermen do
with only my thoughts to keep me company
I find a clean rock
and cast with desperation
The woods close
I love you just the way you are
(after they buff that awful scar)
and laser the tattoos over your heart
I'm sure we're destined never to part
Remember to tuck up that cute
double chin
and put those buttocks back where
they'd been
Do ask about Lypo and
wax that moustache
and while you are at it get those teeth
that flash
A beautiful smile in no time they say
it Looks great and it seems such a small
price to pay
For love such as ours that
withstands any crisis
so while you are there just look
into the prices
of permanent lashes and
green contacts honey
and buy some new clothes
for it's well worth the money
a wig or a dye job will top
off the look
and get those new nails that
we saw in that book
I love you for you
but it's so plain to see
There's really a much better you
you can be
So call me next year
after all transformations
(I'm sure you'll exceed all of
my expectations)
Just fax me a photo
I'll show it with pride
But remember I love you
for the you that's inside!
After a long work day I come home to a long warm shower. It was getting late into
evening hours. I sat down in my favorite black leather chair. Not knowing I was in for a big
scare. I rolled a joint and sat back fully reclined. I was getting high out of my mind.
As I was enjoying my weed, I almost choked because a voice spoke beneath me! I
jumped up and listened to my chair spit profanity. I wondered if I was loosing my sanity.
My lazyboy said, "Don't be scared, sit down and talk to me!"
I seriously thought I was dreaming. Like an out-of-body experience waking up
screaming. No this is real, very real. I just knew my chair was about to do a cartwheel!
"No need looking around wearing a frown, you been sitting down on me for years; so
have no fear. No it's not the weed, you're seeing clearly, so sit down and listen to me."
I sat down in utter shock, resting my buttocks. As my chair began to explain.
"No Jimmy you're not going insane, but I feel you're causing me harm. I have burns,
scratches, now dust all along my arms. I'm left with a permanant frown. I desperately need
a rub down. I don't wanna be mean, but get some disinfectant and clean. The way I'm living
is obscene!"
No more explanations were needed. So after a good wipe down it was obvious I had
succeeded. My lazyboy's black leather had a nice shine. Now I wanted to rest my spine.
"Ah I feel so much better. Now I can go back into a deep sleep. You can go back
enjoying your weed or nicotine. Just remember my hygiene, and from time to time give me
a clean - Thank you."
I could have sworn my lazyboy gave me a wink. I shook my head, tomorrow I would
go see a shrink!
For Matt Caliri contest "Spea Chair! Speak!
There's a gal named PamelaKaye
Her writing style, poetic buffet
A sweet Texas tart
Who has a big heart
And a buttocks the size of Bombay
You call it a diaper – I call it a nappy
Whatever the name the result’s often crappy!
I call it a handbag; you call it a purse
But if it got stolen I’m sure that we’d curse
You call it jelly and we call it jam
I like it on toast whenever I can
To me buns are something tasty to eat
For you it is buttocks you place on a seat
We call it petrol you folks call it gas
I thought gas was something you pass from your ‘ass’
I call them knickers and you call them panties
I just hope they are sexy and not like my aunties
I hope that this poem in ‘Brit speak’ has been fun
Now when I read poems I can understand every one
3rd June 2015
At the station Paton stares at me from the train bound for Johannesburg
He leaves a note to remember to mop up where the roof leaks
This is after the British take Achebe and I's gods away
before sitting back down on their buttocks
When I take their son in Taylor draws my black skin being thrashed by the wind
I feel the kid burying me before the ship comes
I resurrect, thanking Wendt for at least some power and glory
before stupid maggots come and eat up my winnings
Orwell hires me to feed his pigs when I'm broke
I want to kill them when they stand up on two legs and talk back to me
Smith and I meet at Catholic school and ditch Boys' Club together
His brother catches him and I hide across the street as he gets a beating
I run into Fitzsimmons who's looking for Les Darcy
I tell him, 'I'm not his girl, go ask Winnie where he went'
They make Ihimaera and I run errands at the family gathering
I tell myself we're either cousins or enemies: don't fall for him
That same night Huxley and I get high on soma
He passes out on the beach and I run back home to sleep it off
The stabbing wakes me up in time to tell Selby to go tahell
He gets up in my face and tells me plainly to be honest with myself
It's strange after that...just me and Bukowski waiting for a bus
He puts up with me and I fall in love with the pungent smell of him.
My thighs and buttocks have dimples…
So I'm grateful they have so much to smile about! As my stretch marks, or laugh lines rather, can attest.
You must forgive my breasts…they've been upbeat and perky for many years and they deserve a rest.
My calves have a sense of fun! Bored with the same tan color, they've decided to decorate with streamers of purple and blue.
Not to be outdone, my arms have joined the fun, waving with enthusiasm whenever my hands do!
A life well lived and full of joy, of laughter, love, and humor. So now you'll know, if you hear I've “let myself go”, that it is just a rumor.
For those concerned of my muse
My red neck proverbs, please don’t refuse,
If those considered to be, of lesser degree,
Could gain confidence in themselves, to see,
Refusing to be put down by some carnal mind,
Thank you! My love in my heart is fine,
Rather! It’s the mind that’s out of line,
For all of life will be set straight,
Before entry into the gate,
Given time, by the settling of the mind,
Although we may think we know,
Given to the mind so,
In our life, if there’s strife,
Will certainly show,
Proof there is in the pudding,
Being a gooden,
If mind wooden, blow so, and show,
Strife, in life so,
If a little toad frog had wings,
Wooden be given to his many flings,
Bumping little buttocks along on the ground,
Butt twood,- be heaven bound!!
Selah!
9-9-09 [email protected]
Ever once in a while, I write a poem that I feel like, is good enought
to dedicate to someone."Carolyn Devonshire" this your lucky or sad
day, depending upon your own opinion of the poem dedicated!
Your dedication in your comments on poems in Poetry Soup, mine
included, are certainly a source of inspiration to me, as I am sure others.
God Bless you, Sincerely, John Moses Freeman
Gee, how we blame our culture for starting this!
Oh, how ignorant can we be!
We blame men as evil and macho?
Yet we drooled when younger over Ralph. Macchio.
Ask any woman who gets up at three!
How great it is to get out there and earn a salary?
Then not only commute but slave all day.
Pick up the kids at three, and then the kids
overburdened with hours of homework?
Mom has to help them like a enslaved Turk!
Then each night prepare dinner for all three?
While clothes in the washing machine be?
Women's Liberation~~
My, my .....oh me!
I have not listed endless shopping or sports
on this list!
Gloria Steinheim's neck and women's lib needs
a quick twist.
Women brainwashed to theif very core.
Now think its an honor to wear
pants, which I abhor.
We are far to flabby in buttocks and thighs.
Walking, our legs look like an
earthquake, Richter Scale 5~jello surprise!
Perms begone, no more pretty hair, we must look
like men?
What's comes next?
Smoking cigars in tweed jackets in the den?
Sorry to rant, but I miss women
having time,looking fine...
To run a home, not looking for
a shoeshine.
I will write later of the history of
a woman's place being in the home.
And it's close to the time of Ancient Rome.
October 11, 2019
If you have never been owned by a dog,
you maybe do not know this, but there
is no one more wiggly and giggly and in
your lap faster than a dog
You can push her away, and scold her,
spray water all over her, and she will
joyously jump all over you, rubbing her
buttocks and fur in every pore of your
being no matter what you do to dissuade
her.
She will puppy pile you, until you know
that you have been puppy-piled. Nothing
better in the whole world until you get a
grandchild. But they do not replace a
dog, because their selfish parents insist
on taking them home.
buttocks and heels bare, tea warm
steam rises, lips sip
high heel shoes half-grip
tea-spout erect, feminine flowers
knees slightly apart, supple
cerulean striped walls, like a cell
cozy boudoir, ample peach-vanilla
curve to her back. fruit on table
french roses kiss cushion
where she relaxes, sunlight spills
11/24/2019
I’ve perfected the art
Of withholding a fart
I tighten my buttocks and clench
But when no one is the vicinity
I let rip with a dreadful stench
A silent secret fart released in a confined place
To some folks I guess it’s an utter disgrace
If I fart in a lift
To me it’s a gift
I can leave and I’ll not be red in the face!
If a fart is dropped in our house
I secretly wish we had a dog
I could toot with the noise of a bullfrog
but I would have someone else to blame
and could then say poor Fido’s name!
Contest That’s why I love …. Sponsor Lewis Raynes
A fictional write (well I have to say that don’t I … and I don’t have a dog lol)
First stanza is taken from my poem ‘the art of farting
06~05~16
I’ve perfected the art
Of withholding a fart
I tighten my buttocks and clench
But when no one is the vicinity
I let rip with a dreadful stench
28th March 2016
Jan Allison
A serial of haikus, all addressing the same topic with
a hint of humor; but advice that could save your life
or that of a loved one. New to PoetrySoup, so I hope
I'm not "out of order" with this submission or topic.
Cold and flexible
Probing my dignity...
Colonoscopy.
This “simple” exam
“…could prevent cancer.” they say.
Colonoscopy.
We all have to die,
But not from colon cancer.
Colonoscopy.
There's a downside tho’.
“Yuk! That, nasty SuperPrep.”
Colonoscopy.
“But boy, does it work...
Work and work and work some more.
Colonoscopy.
Baring your buttocks...
In a fetal position;
Colonoscopy.
“No polyps", they say.
There are no malignancies.
Colonoscopy.
Your colon’s okay.
It’s five years until your next...
Colonoscopy.
Want some peace of mind?
Insurance will pay for it.
Colonoscopy.
One “simple” exam
Can provide that peace of mind.
Colonoscopy.
You might save your life.
Over 45? Do it!
Colonoscopy.
Cold and flexible.
On the other hand, what if…
Something else kills you?