Best Cesspool Poems

Ride of the Scarecrow Clan

(To: Mittens) 

She was born in the corn on a cold misty morn,
the most beautiful cat on the farm.
(I must keep...

Read more of this work...

So You think the Toupee is Smart
An Orange little Toddler
Who Thought it was cool
To Hate People Who were Different
And Tweets without manners or rules

Where did...

Read more of this work...

I close my eyes
Orbits sunk deep within 
Scowering the cesspool of dream fragments. 

I lay cool against the flat sheet
Waiting patiently for deep sleep to...

Read more of this work...

Time passing all around in the air
Seemingly so without even a care

On the ground an empty turtle shell
Off to swim the vacant waterless well

Watching from...

Read more of this work...

I HEARD THE WISE WORDS

The day wise words were spoken
It was over near the beaten path;
Where I first heard them uttered.
“Beware of the fool in...

Read more of this work...

In this life there's water everywhere
it draws us under it's evil spell
pulling us down to it's dark chamber
having an power holding to it's cell

This liquid...

Read more of this work...

A gut full of grease is a glutton for greed
A swirling cesspool of sinful man's seed
These men of corruption, a pitiful breed
They trust their own...

Read more of this work...

Yeah, I know,
It's "My Problem"...
No sweat to you...
Even though I might beg,
For help or advise what to do...

I'm cut off from the internet...
My last human...

Read more of this work...

where are your eyes in the 11th hour?
do they roam to and fro, roaring
with insipid power, baiting the hook,
fishing for retractable men?

where is your nose...

Read more of this work...

Are you in the mood
  for a poem about food
Something marinated, dude
  or grilled, barbequed

     Tangentially: 

Have you ever...

Read more of this work...

Never in all the years 
Of the long dying day 
Will I falter before that cruel voice 
Or countenance the black despair 
That rises from...

Read more of this work...

Within life's cesspool, captives held for trade,
along infested ways where young-child rape
is glorified by twisted souls who gape
and for the purity of babes are paid.
In...

Read more of this work...

The MAN
 -THE SPIRIT- 
       - THE SEED

All dwell in the same abode
In the  temple  
where they...

Read more of this work...

Poet: Ken Jordan
Story: Street Life
written: July/2014


    Child, I have seen many nights
turn to dawn, out in the streets.
I was you once,  left home thinking...

Read more of this work...

Do You ever just get tired of Being You?
Up there on The Highest of pedestals as You rule...
Is It You feeling selfish or alone as...

Read more of this work...