Best Dirty Poems
come on crude
we're all future fossil fuel
pump me
***
(She's Got Cooties)
Bitter every night, she speaks of another man
In dialogues, she rips and shreds my brothers sheets
Her moves are naught more than an exposed wound
Riding dreams with no thought to spare
With eyes, that lie every night,
Even, I believe every word from her prune lips
Silent she auctions words into the breeze
My brother's heart is so brittle, it hurts
She is lying, he's dying, a fool just to feel complete
At this point he believes, she was kidnapped by apes
She's not the kind of wife that sit on a trophy case
Once she removes the makeup, her face is gone
She is gone, gone, gone,
A smile mocking infidelity,
I scream, I want to beat her brains in
My brother begs her to rest, he prays
His wife will wash her dirty mouth
A kiss that hurts as she takes the air away,
Pouring guilt, pretending it's his fault
After every sucker punch this past month
She left while he slept
A wicked in law, with no comparison
Breathing luscious sperm, she's a worm
Vacuuming another man's dream,
She is gone, gone, gone,
A weak link, wasting his time loving her
His heart murdered 19 years ago
My brother holds on to plain dumb hope
In hopes, she might stay longer than 3 days
His dreams are sweet, innocent and failed,
Yet he won't stop dreaming of her loving lips
Heating up to nothing when she's not there
She is gone, gone, gone,
Sometimes I just sit and wonder
What sort of man, sits awake with his eyes shut
Daydreaming of a long life dream
Then I realize if he can dream
Why Can't I
~Trashed #2, sponsor, Broken Wings~
9-22-15
Skat
Stand tall even when the stars fall
In every dream there is a lock the key berried
in reality keep digging keep digging don't '
stop keep climbing keep climbing to the top
and hope you never drop.
If you do don't you ever stop.
If the ticking makes you nervous throw away the clock.
If the shoes don't fit throw away the socks
happiness is a shoe compromise to make it fit
when you MAKE IT FIT enjoy every bit of it.
Some say life is good some say life is ****!
I say you get what you make out of it .
Weather the storm.
Stay calm.
Wipe the sweat off of your palms.
Patiently defuse your bombs and
hope to find bliss in futures arms.
Shaking.
Breaking.
Bare the undertaking.
There is a new day in the making.
Drunken pen.
Drunken poet.
How drunk can I be?
When life influenced sober men to be more drunk than me.
Though my pen drunk it vomits the sober things in me.
Breath even when there's no air
look for the good in the bad the glad in the
sad make them question why your not mad
many things come many things go many things are
dim but many things glow appreciate what you have
and go with the flow.
I remember the days when I'd fall
asleep before hitting the pillow.
Ah, the joy of a sound sleep.
I might not have been at my best
in the morning all things considered.
Day-old makeup very much past its prime.
My eyelashes were caked and looking scraggly,
my lipstick smeared across my cheek and pillow,
eyeshadow streaked clear across my forehead.
Thankfully one good shower made me whole again!
AP: 2nd place 2025
Peg-Leg Pete the Pirate was a very evil man,
He used to eat his dinner from a filthy frying pan,
And when he’s finished eating he’d play “catch me if you can”
With his desperado first-mate known as Dirty Deadeye Dan.
Now Dan was quite a ladies man, but also fond of booze,
In bars and streets and hotels he liked to drink and cruise,
He used to taunt old-Peg Leg Pete by dragging up old news,
Like Pete had only ever needed half a pair of shoes.
One day Pete had quite enough and things got pretty scary,
Confronting Dirty Deadeye Dan whose mood was always lairy,
A sudden hush fell on the room when Pete clumped in the bar
And Dan called out: “Hey, Peg-Leg, hop on over, have a jar.”
Peg-Leg Pete the Pirate clasped the pistol on his hip
And snarled at Dirty Deadeye Dan: “Enough of your damn lip.”
The floozy sat upon Dan’s lap was dumped onto the floor
And Dan rose to his feet and hissed: “You’d best limp out the door.”
Across the sawdust, blood-stained floor they faced each other down,
And you could hear a pin drop from the other side of town,
Eyes were locked and fingers twitched and seconds seemed like days
The tension burned unbearably and shimmered in the haze.
Both men drew their pistols and both men fired fast,
Flame spat from the barrels with the bullets roaring past,
But neither man could aim for squat and when their guns were done
They’d killed two people in the bar but they weren’t either one.
The barman Blind-man Billy Bragg and the floozy Scar-Faced Sue
Lay dead as dead as doornails, as doornails tend to do,
And through the pall of gun-smoke and the mist of rum and beer
Deadeye Dan called out to Pete: “We’d best get out of here.”
And so they did, they fled the bar, and vanished in the night,
Back to their ship, The Crippled Cock, and sailed on out of sight,
Never to return to shore, and never seen again,
The rumour is they sank and drowned just off the Spanish Main.
The moral of the story is that when you draw a gun,
Be prepared to end your days always on the run,
“Or in your case, always on the limp,” said Dirty Deadeye Dan
To Peg-Leg Pete the Pirate, that very evil man.
The Day will come when you won't shift
When being "cool" is but a myth
Though now you may not understand
For it won't happen til you're a man.
Those dirty socks that mattered not
Still smell of cheese and morbid rot
Are but a memory that will never fade
To carry with you through each decade
You'll someday wonder how mom and dad
Stood beside you through the ugly bad
Who wondered what you'd turn out to be?
And if, from you, they'd ever get free?
To all who feel that your kids are adrift
Teach them soon to learn how to shift
To enjoy their days of being young
For this is a song you've already sung.
Good Luck!
A little bird
Dropped a little turd
Upon my clean windshield
I pushed the button but no fluid did it yield
My wipers swiped and smeared a stripe
And now I'm mad enough to fight
I grabbed a bottle to sprinkle the stain
But the wind took it from me to my disdain
Cursing the bird
With a dirty word
I hear a dreadful sound
I then pull over and receive a fine for throwing litter on the ground
So if a bird drops you a turd and the fluid is all dry
Don't fret don't curse don't even cry
Just pull over and clean the spot
And save yourself alot
Why do I feel dirty all day and all night?
I bathe everyday. I do everything hygenically right
and yet 24/7 I feel like I'm all covered with grime constantly.
There's something definetly wrong with my mind psychologically.
It's probably best for all concerned to stay the hell away from me.
I know what you're thinking. This is all about guilt obviously,
but I can't for the life of me think of anything that should make me feel guilty.
Do you think this has anything to do with me slamin P D?...(aka also me).
lol..lol...ha-ha, hee-hee! < That's me, aka also P D
laughing Our/My brains out insanely.
lol...lol...ha-ha, hee-hee!
Dirty Hands
My white hands are dirty
Even if I don’t realize
My burdens light like my skin
I haven’t had the same trials
The house I live in
my manicured life
The things I don’t have to think about
While oppressed brothers deal with strife
Stolen lives, blood sweat and tears
Things haven’t changed enough
over far to many years
“Jump down turn around, pick a bail of cotton”
Innocent men hung from trees
We should beg for forgiveness
But it’s black men on their knees
Prison population permeated with colour
We haven’t looked out for one another
We have to rethink “Who is my brother?”
No child should be without their father
Each home should have a dad and mother
To many lives that are broken
A few black women
get a job as a token
but heaven forbid
If they’re ever outspoken
“Things are more equal”
You must be jokin
Is that some kind of White Privilege Puff you’re smokin?
Even though I’m aware
I’m not sure what to do
Still I know I can’t pretend things are equal for you
But am I truly able to face what is true
Old ways of thinking are starting to renew
I’m afraid of where we are heading to.
White power resurgence
Watch out for that person
standing next to you
Now they want to stop your vote
They say “We’re all in the same boat.”
So why do you feel fantom fingers around your throat
Your tunes are being sung backwards
While to many are left with a sour note.
More white washing
Coat upon coat.
To many are losing their hope.
So we came undone, stitch by stitch,
it's been far to long but the scars still itch.
Lies start to feed on a love I believed
was specifically designed and crafted for me.
Words once ingrained into our history,
scatter like petals from an over-plucked daisy.
Promised love danced on a breeze of deceit,
then lay with the trash and leaves on the street.
I almost reach down to gather it up,
to brush off the dirt, keep hold of the love.
A girl rushes by with a smile in her eyes,
steals all the love and I'm left with the lies.
I sink to my knees, embracing the ground,
I sense you beside me, you don't make a sound.
You just look so sad.
It's then that I know,
all I can do now,
is let you go.
But I know if I wait where I am, if I stay,
my heart will rupture as you walk away,
and though I am scared, shaking as I rise,
I can't let this last juncture fossilize,
into another moment where you think you win.
So I walk away first, my next chapter begins...
You see it a lot now a days, being aired everywhere you look
In many forms and many ways even you and I are in the book
As the news anchors spin their story or even just friend to friend
Jesus said in all of His Glory be careful of the message you send
Do not slander your foe nor wish him evil upon his daily way
For it isn't yours to know only your duty and obligation to pray
Cut not one at the knees or even enter into the gossip mill room
Infectious like disease most of those people are headed for doom
Like a murderer and or a thief, gossipers too are high on the list
They simply add to another's grief the sin being in how they twist
They prolong another's plight in wanting to know every little detail
Never choosing to do right as each reputation they seem to impale
Of others never speak a negative word, but act as if they were there
Put aside everything you heard and then do something that is rare
Acting as if that person were you, as one day this may be the case
Still not sure what to do... Remember the Day Jesus took your place
“A good man out of the good treasure of his heart
bringeth forth that which is good...”
Luke 6:45
I’ve come to believe that dirty laundry
is alive.
Just when you’re down to one batch, you turn
around and there are five.
And I also believe that laundry runs around
at night by itself.
“Cause “no one” gets it dirty, or takes it down
from the shelf.
“I don’t know where it all came from” is
what I always hear.
All those towels have a mind of their own, is
now what I fear.
There’s four kids, three adults and seven days in
the week.
How that can turn into twenty batches,..to this
question, the answer I seek.
If I’d just invested in Proctor and Gamble when
they first went on the market,
Today I’d have a Rolls Royce, along with a
driver to park it.
I lay there in the dirty bath water;
unable to raise myself up, like a
dog in quicksand, I wondered if I
should just yelp, or die, as the
grey water ran into my dream
and eye
I must have pulled something,
a muscle, a nerve, or a bank heist,
it wasn’t clear
this must be the same as having
a stroke, I thought; not being able
to use one side, a baby, a dog, waiting
for help.
And when I eventually rolled myself out,
and the arm came back to life, I vowed
never to bathe again, unless it was with
my wife.
Dirty am I, was I until Jesus Washed Me Clean
O’ but that I have been lost
Trapped incumbent to this storm
Tattered and bathed in my own sin
until Jesus came and washed me clean
Trapped incumbent to this storm
Dirty was I now I'm cleansed
until Jesus came and washed me clean
Dirty am I, was I
Dirty was I now I'm cleansed
Tattered and bathed in my own sin
Dirty am I, was I
O’ but that I have been lost
1/2/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2020©
Written for class assignment (WIPS) North Omaha Writers Group (NOW)
Oh! Lord I come before you dirty
Oh! Lord I come before you dirty
Oh! Lord I come before you dirty
please God clean me up
I was a wretch undone;
Unrighteous and dirty one;
My life was a mess;
Until I witnessed this....
my God, my God, my God;
Has washed my heart;
He's cleansed my soul;
And make me whole;
Oh! Lord I come before you dirty
Oh! Lord I come before you dirty
Oh! Lord I come before you dirty
please God clean me up
I am a dirty human;
So unworthy, so unholy;
But God has come along;
Has washed my heart;
He's cleansed my soul;
And make me whole;
7/4/18
written words by James Edward Lee Sr.©2018
from anthology "Praises"