Best Cess Poems


Premium Member Santa, Chubby Can't Hurry Down My Chimney Tonight

Santa's stuck inside my chimney this year
His tummy's too big and so is his rear
I saw him hanging there
I'm filled with despair
Because on my roof are his eight reindeer

Rudolph's shiny red nose is much too bright
And it continues to blink through the night
It glows in my window
While Santa cries, "No, No No!"
They're both driving me nuts. It is my plight

Three days in and Santa's become smelly
No food should've slenderized his belly
No hearth fire can I burn
You'd think Santa would learn
To stay away from the North Pole Deli!

Finally, skinny enough to slip through
He quickly asked, "Where the heck is your loo?"
I pointed to the door
His pants dropped to the floor
I held my nose from the yucky stench... EWWW

I washed his suit until it was soot free 
He thanked me for my hospitality
I had something for him
A gift card to a gym
What a weird Christmas it had been for me

There's one important thing I've left to do
Clear my backyard of all the reindeer poo
Four days worth of their s - - t
Made my yard a cess pit
I should've called a hazardous waste crew

I sent a letter north to tell Mrs. Claus
Why there were dark brown stains in Santa's drawers
I thought she should know
That when he had to go
Stuck in my chimney, chubbiness the cause
© Lin Lane  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: cess, christmas,
Form: Limerick

Premium Member Oceans Apart

gravity craves in the sky

weightless surrender -

comet reaches rock bottom


tides foam a lullaby

crested lengths wave -

ripples focus underneath


horizon lingers abreast

pain drenched capture -

currents expose lost hope


a life buoy tied to an anchor

flare soaked in life’s blood -

cess pool seizes cessation


atlantis meet nirvana

tranquility draws in the sand-

jetsam leads the way


the saviour dies dried tears

an offering’s nail to the cross -

hobgoblin mocks the journey


drift wood walks on water

parts with seven wild seas -

beach hut shelters new dreams


a lonely star fish grants company

octopus offers eight fold path -

tentacles points to serenity


shooting star recovers attraction

wings hardship and meaning -

levitation mediates sorrow


earth-wind meets fire

mermaid shares fins -

life life rescues calm voyage


07th February 2020
Categories: cess, appreciation,
Form: Free verse

Curriculum Vitae

Some watching my ease
Of execution of the self
The latent anxiety unteased
Writes me off in simplicity.
Some denuding me of honor's wealth
Wait in turmoil 
For a scab to fall and unveil its pus
And if I do not flinch for pain
Writes coward beside my name
Some deck out in borrowed jewels
Could not stop me looking at the stars
They heard only my polite conversation
Saw my faith
And did not understand the transformation of desire
The restructured purpose of the heart
The difference in whose I am
They frightened ran
Frantic to recompose themselves in fear
They judged me like the world again
But O how deep the flow
Of divine grace
That such may come and find nothing in me.

I am a man of firm convictions
I know the way all things should go
Before they go
I watch the frightened blunder
Inventing old salvation in new fora
I do not yield to that
Peace is a vision of the broken self
The spontaneous abolition of lies
Do not give the heart too much grandeur
It blinds the vision to the soul
Reeks havoc of self interpretation
For before the strong delusion
Comes the lie
Do you not remember how impolite you were
How disrespectful
How nasty the tone of argument and action
And how he opened not his mouth
Waiting for you to come to confession
That gives a man a sense of justice
To execute judgment without compassion
And yet, great Christ, you wait for repentance.

You have your Barabbas
And yet you have no peace
How can right disturb the heart at rest
We weave a tangled mess
In a world of pride, but patience is a a door
I left it open
Without pain
For what you have become, what you manifest
I would not cry, could not cry for cess
Barabbas means himself well
But his history is a figment, his tale a lie
And then again
What power could sin have over sin
Poor, weak, wretched, vain
How your pretext falls like dusk
How bewildering the edge of night

If you see me again
Please note that I am the same
And through my door
Comes those who have forgotten pain
For I built it so
To admit the naked form alone
Be mortified at my door
You cannot come until you are purged
It is your life
I have neither haste nor urge
Only you can make right
I can only hold the light
For under my cosy exterior of ease
You will find again
Just what you see outside.
Categories: cess, faith, introspection, me, world,
Form: Free verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Boys Night In

Tonight there is a match on telly
The lads are coming round 
most of them are married
So my home is to be the neutral ground .

If any of their wives ring 
I'm to pretend that I am deaf
and they've all elected me to be
head barman and chef.

I've got Guinness and lager
A crate or two of Yorkshire ale
Newcastle brown and bitter
So the booze just cannot fail .

I've made three lovely shepherds pies
but I asked the lads which veg I should use
I've just been reading their replies
Now I'm totally confused .

One lad doesn't like cabbage
Another doesn't like swede
and it seems broccoli and cauliflower
are members of a dying breed .

The veg that the lads want 
From all the replies I've seen 
are lots of French fried onions 
and cans of Heinz baked beans .

12 drunken farting Yorkies
My house would smell like an old cess pit 
So they'll get what their given 
They can take it or leave it .

Lemon sole for starters 
Chocolate cheesecake for dessert
and if I get a single complaint
I'll kick them where it hurts.
Categories: cess, friendship, boy,
Form: Verse

Premium Member A Plumber's Love Poem

We can be stuck together as one,
and I will never need a soldering gun.
My love for you comes in a steady flow.
Right through all the pipes it will go.
You won’t have a backed-up cess pool or septic tank.
I will do good work, and you will have me to thank.
With me, you will never feel anguish or pain.
That is just like having a clogged drain.
I will always be there to unclog it for you.
My love for you will always be true.
I will be your washer if you will be my ring.
Between you and me, we will have a good thing.
Categories: cess, love, on work and
Form: Rhyme

The Score Year Traitor

Feeding me some ludicrous bait
Of incident out on staff ‘do’
Red-headed witch sealed my fate
By simple act of rifling through
My private papers to discover
If I’d ribbed her like another.

You see, I’d written poem for stress
So that I could work with scum:
To endure their endless cess
That imbued rage be overcome.
But she, whom I had trained from scratch,
Thought I’d at her discomfort snatch.

Not one deemed it worth their while
To tell me of this treachery:
Of misplaced distrust and guile
Which hurt me, though accidentally.
The Morlock found her reading it…
Why do I place my faith in unpleasant people?
Categories: cess, abuse, betrayal, discrimination, friendship,
Form: Sonnet


Genocide

They're trying to decapitate the hood magistrates,
with fabricated reasons for treasons
It's the season that we evaluate and saturate,

All those who maneuver with a false mind,
Hood occupants are tee'd off like it's golf time,
So your game needs to be up to par
because to the jails and cemetaries 
too many people have lost time,

The government is microscopic on the popular,
They possess new world order style binoculars,
They're building plantations and camps
in the form of penetentiaries
to house and be the spots for the,

Most corrupted, those abducted,
from society in a variety of flavors
because misbehavior leaves us stuck with,

A bunch of years on tiers to joint suspension,
We stay inchin' through tention,
and in this hard knock life comprehension,
we discover that we're losing
in their systematic intervention,

They know that the hypnosis from dollar bills will rule us,
In a cess pool of,
deceived individuals who tryin' to glisten like a jewelers,

Metals and precious stones,
Yes it's on,
We brave enough to test the throne,
The quest is long,
And we fight until our flesh and bones,

Dissolved into the earth
We were born to die so who's next to go,
Our lives are far from festivals,
We're surrounded by people
who perform acts that are unethical,
attempting to reach the pinnacle,

Because the hood fame will excite us,
We search for the cures to hunger-itis,
What we really need is the wisdom from the providers,

Who serves the mind food
because the government is killin' us,
They're sealin' our fate with each plate to get rid of us,
They lable us outlaws, so we turn southpaw
and fight for our rights from the left like P. Whittaker,
It's hard suvivng inside their GENOCIDAL SYLLABUS,

So before you get tossed like a javelin,
Stay sharp and keep your eyes and mind travelin'
While you're in the systematic maze
to keep your life from unravelin'.
Categories: cess, abuse, africa, betrayal, black
Form: Rhyme

At the Edge of the Precipice

I do not know how men many we were
or how we went, what we saw on the way 
nor do I know for what ungodly purport was ours
or what goaded us on into deeper uncharted territory 
despite our tortured souls and aching bodies protesting to refrain .

I vaguely recollect through my befogged mind 
some arcane words like Shoggoth and Mi- go and Dagon,
so much gibberish and blubbering babble of deranged minds
gone at once numb and addled with sights and sounds 
forbidden to man in his wildest dreams and thoughts.

Through crenellated valleys grey misted in their troughs
and crests and covered with slime or ooze as from some
white-wormed denizens from unnamed and should-not-be-named
lairs in regions in deep damp grottoes of infernal charnel mounds
did I and my ill-fated team wander wild-eyed and unkempt.

Do not ask me what we saw when we reached our goal
for what my skulled orbs beheld or what my brain deciphered
I know nor remember not all semblance of sense and sensibilities 
having fled with a volition not my own but driven by transfusions
of thought telepathically imposed from without from the miasma.

I know not whether to thank those who found me in the sorry state
that they did - a blathering caricature of the human form more ape,
nay, an ape has more intellect and dignity, than man- a creature more
fit to dwell in the mire and morass of a cess-pit than tread the same
hallowed soil or breathe the self-same vapors as civilized man.
It was far better still that the group of kindly souls, most rightfully,
had left me to my own contrivances and let me wander in my unknown
quest for unknown and mysterious things best known to myself once 
but now lost to me forever.

I find myself in these padded and strait-jacketedand dreary halls  of Arkham
standing at the edge of the precipice of an insurmountable mountain with
an abyss at the foot, both of interminable depth and dark as the devil's heart.

I have leaped from this vertiginous height perhaps a dozen times to end my misery
but having felt all the terror and thrill of finding absolution, I find myself here again,
and again.
Categories: cess, dark, fantasy, horror, imagination,
Form: Narrative

Kids Are Cruel

Billy had a friend 
Called Donald with 
A face like a donkey 
And teeth like a duck. 
They used to run amuck 
In school playgrounds 
And forests where they'd 
Hide in trees and launch 
Frozen peas at old people 
Squatting under home-spun 
Canopies. 

But aged twelve, Billy shelved affection 
For his friend with the distorted face. 
He changed his name to Will and started 
Having sex and carrying a briefcase. 

When Will avoided him at school, 
Donald took to ducking classes 
And covering his facial anomalies 
With sticking plasters. 

But Will was not impressed 
And left his former side-kick 
Alone in his world of lop-sided features 
That seemed to have been 
Inherited from several different 
Alien creatures. 

Donald sat vainly in their childhood tree 
Where his face grew long and green 
With pre-pubescent jilted lover's weeping. 
He cried for one week, then fell asleep, 
Dreaming mournful cess, 
Mouth gaping doomed distress. 
It was winter.  The peas froze 
And slid icily from the leaves 
Above, filling mouth and nose 
Absorbing breath, choking grief. 
He fell without a cinematic thud. 
Jagged frame sank lifeless in the mud. 

Forty six years later Will 
Tried to find Donald 
For a school reunion.
Categories: cess, life, satire,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Princess

Once upon a time not that 
long ago. Lived a beautiful 
young lady named Princess.
Who lived in the inner city. 
Her eyes were hazel. And 
they changed with whatever 
she chose to ware. Her smile 
would just light up any room. 
Princess's skin was smooth
like silk and it was a lovely 
mahogany shade.She had
thick dark wavy hair. Not only 
was Princess beautiful on the 
the outside she was beautiful
on the inside as well. One day 
she said “ Moma, why did you 
and daddy name me Princess?”
“Baby I told you that story a 
million times.”
“ I know moma, but I love to 
hear you tell it. Can you tell
me again please?”
“ Me and yo daddy named 
you princess because you are
a princess.  You are our little 
princess.
Her moma has been gone for a
a while now, but she never forgot 
her mama's words.
Folk around the neighborhood
said she lived in make believe, 
because she told everyone that 
she was going to be a real prin-
cess one day. She would often 
say “ I was born to
be a princess”. On one particular 
day a childhood friend said “ Girl 
you good people in all, but ain't 
nobody from the hood gonna be 
no princess.  Get yo head out 
the clouds girl.”
Princess was very smart and 
she excelled in school. Her 
G.P.A was so high that she 
got a full scholarship to study 
abroad in a well known school, 
to study philosophy  in another 
country. 
She excelled in her philosophy 
class as well. Princess was in 
a new country and she was still
loved by all who came in contact 
with her.
In her second year she met the 
most handsome guy she had 
ever seen.
“Hi my name is Sebastian Wil-
cox.
What is your name beautiful?”
“My name is Princess Scott.”
The two became inseparable.
They fell madly in love. And 
one day before graduation he 
asked her asked her to marry 
him. But he had a secret he 
was a prince,who left a king-
dom close by to find his one
 true love.


THE END

3-11-27
Alexis Y.
© Alexis Y.  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: cess, first love, friendship, love,
Form: Prose

Premium Member Fallen Angel

Self banished from castle of dreams
Boiling poisonous emotions of cess pool
Dominate evil feelings as rapid streams
Living the fantasies from being a fool

An arrow crossed the once loving soul
Robbing forever the sacred innocence
Discovering the lies that smelt foul
Making a world full of indiferrence

Black attire is the color that describes
The inner tones that paint vividly
Aftermath of deceptions that subscribes
In the mind that wanders fervidly



For Fallen Angel Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Laura Loo
Second Place
August 5, 2017
Categories: cess, dark, lost love,
Form: Rhyme

Hamlet

A lonely ghost loomed out 
of the unknown mystery,
Bringing a halt to darkness 
and showing life in misery.

Hamlet was told 
but there was no reason to be cold,
This is a confession that is old, 
what is gilded cannot be gold.
For those seen as heroes 
in the tarnished human history,
are nothing but condemned 
on the cess of lofty mastery.
* * *
Hamlet was mad, 
truth is a man 
whose head is bald,
Hamlet was sad, 
illusion is a woman 
that nods to be sold.
It is respect that 
generates respect, 
Humans are in February;
No wonder the proper study 
of Mankind lies in January.
Being their tamed slaves, 
what should we do but scold?
So cold is the heat, 
so dry is the feast, 
no fire is to hold.
* * *
Birds are weeping, 
freedom is dying,
 life is in boundary;
Flowers are fading, 
trees are shambling, 
O devine mastery.

Chokri Omri
Tunis, 2006
Categories: cess, grief, life,
Form: Verse

Ten Word Split

A poet's contest with a twist
Use the words in this long list
Author's puzzle - mental schism
Solved by quoting pearls of wisdom

Writing verse with rough iambi
Valentines the namby-pamby

Sugar cane is often bitter
Sweet instead banana fritter

Shellfish debt is right to fear
Mollusc IOUs are dear

In winter cess or gong will ice
Come the spring it won't smell nice

Those who talk soliloquies
Centralistic - ill at ease

Mostly truth - a bit of flam
Buoyant spirits just a scam

Olive stuffed with pepper sweet
Pimola - shun a tasty treat

Broken clock might go tic tac
Til ending life upon the scrap

Peer at life - myopic squint
Essence lost - the meerest hint

I've met the task - I've got all ten
By breaking words up now and then
Spelling strange and meaning hookie
Least they could be fortune cookies



Entry for "ten word challenge - 2" contest

Uses words (sort of): AMBIVALENT, ARCANE, BITTERSWEET, LUSCIOUS, INTERCESSOR, QUIESCENT, FLAMBOYANT, IMMOLATION, TACTILE, QUINTESSENCE
Categories: cess, truth, wisdom, word play,
Form: Verse

Afired

Heck, you asked for it
The base in a vortex locked
Crumbling with the torrid shock
Of maligned money
Bonding the world in duress
Spewing for policy cess

Who fooled you to vote
For shrivelling tax and more
Crime and crumbling of the store
The sinister laugh
Like golf balls beat my temple
Mubarak for example

The Arab spring parked
At wall street, and fell asleep
I want to hear the fire weep
To smell revenge stale
Like urine where drunkards leak
The magnate's charm for the meek

Drugged to forget love
The tent cities brimmed with wrath
Subsiding in urine's froth.
It's a busted world
We prize, nothing good is left
Except the brave will to die.

If I were a church
I would be altar on fire
Making sacrifice with ire
If I were the pew
I'd demand a broken chain -
Refund of profit and pain

Unemployed, prisoned
In myopia, dangled
From banner star spangled
What the hell is grief
The blood stains on rag dripping
Mothers' hands, clammy, shaking?

We have aborted
More than birth, nation killers
Political platform swillers
Swine gruel makers
The vultures gather for who
No bell tolls ... death has no clue.
Categories: cess, political, war, drug,
Form: Sedoka

Critical Thoughts

The more they plan and promise
The more they fail
The poor are distant abyss
Dream is a nail
Drive it deep, and deeper yet
Nail them to sleep
Less waking they will forget
Their word to keep

The horse shoe flies now away
The serpent hissed
Victory is a far day
Venom for bliss
Something to wear wrinkles out
And keep faith young
The war endures courage rout
Where is the throng?

They say poverty isn't choice
But attitude
Feelings that turn men to mice
With vision nude
Did you see the condition
That triggered fear
And wilted men's ambition?
Nail it, my dear.

A nailed dream is sleep's soft cess
What I must know
What are governments for? Less
Pledged, less to show
For my submission and restraint
If they forget
The army too in fight faint
Will tell regret.

The yarn unravels unseen
Among the poor
The suffering in bright green
And wormy core
The compact considered twice
Each wince of pain
And nowhere the sacrifice
Just us, love stained.
Categories: cess, people,
Form: Rhyme
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