Best Dumper Poems


Premium Member Crossing the Toad - New Collaboration

Theme for collaboration suggested by Tim Smith


Two enormous old toads crossed the road
On Tom’s back lounged Thomasina toad
Both are ugly and warty
Thomasina’s so naughty
As her bowels on his back she’d download

06-16-17

WRITTEN BY JAN ALLISON

When Thomasina toad dumped on old Tom
He thought her poop explosion was a bomb
He hopped in the air
gave her a mean stare
shouting, "I'm not taking you home to Mom!"

WRITTEN BY LIN LANE


Ribbit rubbit robbit  'n ro
this crazy toad has got to go
She's turning quite mean -
Fifty shades of green
No time to chat but still does crow

WRITTEN BY TIM SMITH

"Why don't we do it in the road?"
Said Thomas, the old horny toad
Thomasina hissed,
"Get a load of this!"
and a "blessing" on him bestowed

WRITTEN BY LIM'RIK FLATS

Thomasina was on a road trip
Her taxi was Tom's back she'd grip
But she strained as she held
And her bottom expelled
So she said "I've just left you a tip"

WRITTEN BY RAY GRIDLEY


Tom and Thomasina were the perfect pair
They were ancient toads without a care
He had a huge wart
She gives a mean fart
Anyone in her vicinity better beware!

WRITTEN BY ALEXIS Y


Now Tom was an over achiever
He wanted the lady, not leave her
He sprayed his back with Scotch-Guard
and rubbed down with lots of lard
the dumper was now the receiver

WRITTEN BY DALE GREGORY COZART

Tom gave Thomasina the boot
Got sick from the smell of her poot
told her to get lost
right after he tossed
She gave him the one finger salute

WRITTEN BY DANIEL TURNER



Thomas and Thomasina loved to hear
the waterboatmen rubbing their gear
Thomas tried and started to croak
causing Thomasina to choke
you two will never get it right I fear

WRITTEN BY SEREN ROBERTS

When T'sina hopped on for a ride
Old Thomas reminded his bride,
"Though you're my sweet dish,
on the road we'll get squished",
"Just do it!" was her terse reply.

WRITTEN BY CRAIG CORNISH

Thomasina and Tom a heavy load
Lingered a little too long on the road
He could have kissed her all night 
shocked at the oncoming lights 
Croak and ribbit was heard; two flattened toads

WRITTEN BY EVE ROPER

PLEASE SOUP MAIL ME ANY SUBMISSIONS FOR THE COLLABORATION

06-16-17

Premium Member Pure Rot

Some days are winners, others are not
The jury's still out but seems today's gone to pot
My mood's in the dumper
My world's split asunder
We've run out of java, my day is pure rot


© Jack Ellison 2015

Premium Member The Cordial Mister Dumpster

Douglas Dempster the Dumpster King
Hates to be called Doug Dumpster
But he's to blame if that's his name
Denying it is a real stumper.

Mashes the trash, burns it to ash,
Recycles all that's allowed;
A self-made man with a garbage can
That ought to make him proud.

Dougy Dumps whines and grumps
"Nobody gives me respect!
If not for me the world would be
Garbage-bedecked! Cluttered and wrecked!
Sad and neglected, infested, infected
But thanks to me it all gets collected!"

Well thank you Doug-in-a-Dumper
For keeping our alleyways bright
Put on your very best jumper
And we'll take you out tonight.


Mother Nature's Storyboard

Bumper Jumper Humper Dumper

Mathew 6: 12-13

"mathew" 6: 12-13
“and forgive us our debts”
(not only does a sheep get 3 squares a day,
but it is also believed that if one begs the
sky enough, one’s problems will just
wash away---this is to be the subsequent
consequence of ALL humans following
suit & getting down on four legs, growing
their thick coats & chewing grass)

“as we forgive our debtors”
(as the sheep thinking that their problems
are solved by an imaginary listener in
an imaginary trailer park in the sky,
so do the sheep continue grazing with a
sort of “live and let live” mentality,
until they are picked off by hunters)

“and do not lead us into temptation”
(so, the same imaginary listener who resides
in that imaginary trailer park, who seemed
to be the one that all the sheep were
comfortably baaaaa-ing to, now is
something to be feared as well?  perhaps
that which one feels the need to submit
the whole of their will to is the same
corrupted core inside that would come up
with such a ridiculous hoax to begin with,
as found in the schizophrenic comment
here in the command to oneself (a baaaaa
into the mirror, if you will)
 
“but deliver us from the evil one”
(the EVIL ONE?  is not the concept of
evil just that which goes against the
simultaneous baaaaa of the herd in the
grassy field?  was not the GOOD ONE
just told in the last line to “not lead us
into temptation,” thereby being the only
“one” which can do so?  make sure when
getting the ladle of kool-aid dumped into
your dixie cup, that you ask if said
dumper is EVIL or GOOD…certainly at
that point it will make all the difference in
the world)
 
“for yours is the kingdom and the power
and the glory forever”
(there is no other imaginary listener, whose
two-faced multiple personalities, residing in
an imaginary trailer park in the sky, handing
out its ladles of kool-aid, whose overwhelming
passion could be heard any louder than that
which dwells within the very heads of the
already brainwashed sheep baaaaa-ing out
the rest of their days, dissatisfied with the
actual physical world around them &
waiting for the end of what they deem as
a great big thorn in their side---that is,
the rest of us who are not convinced, and
who are not baaaaa-ing with the rest of
em’)

“amen”
(right there, in a nutshell, the whole lie
itself was conjured up by “a man,” or
a few men---all who had way too much
time on their hands & a rather limited
imagination).

Rumors and Cookie Shakes On a Lazy Sunday

people think i am lost in the essence of time
the machine in which i live makes the world change emotive colors
there are some who think that i left my smile in the bed with my personality
i am lost in a space where i sprayed febreze to aerate my comfort zone
then my left hand is observed by all the judges that study me
my left hand begins to twitch, but i remain calm and medicate myself with daydreams
within said daydreams, the beautification of being lost for the purpose of sanity maintenance awakens me
then here i am in this dumper dust reality again
there are those who believe i am invisible amongst the population of time
two cookie shakes later, i am on droopy mode when i simply reply....YOU KNOW WHAT, I'M HAPPY....
© Marty King  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Check With Jack

If you're having a bad day
Check with Jack
Things not going your way
He's got the knack

If your life's filled with gloom
Check with Jack
If your heart's filled with doom
He's got the knack

If your life's in the dumper
Check with Jack
If each day's a bummer
He's got the knack

Can you see a pattern
Emerging here
Did you check with Jack
To allay all your fears

There's no one to blame
But yourself I say
Not following my advice
You'll get lost in the fray

CHECK WITH JACK!!!

Premium Member Check With Jack

If you're having a bad day
Check in with Jack
Things not going your way
Check in with Jack

If your life's filled with gloom
Check in with Jack
If your heart's filled with doom
Check in with Jack

If your life's in the dumper
Check in with Jack
If each day's a bummer
Check in with Jack

Can you see a real pattern
Developing here
Did you check in with Jack
To allay all your fears

There's no one to blame
But yourself I say
Not following my advice
You'll get lost in the fray

CHECK IN WITH JACK!!!

© Jack Ellison 2013

Art At the Dumpsite

In a bare field
hidden behind dense brush
There's a spot where people
cunningly come, dumping

their oversized trash.
Somehow word got out
years ago:
    mattresses, appliances, 
 

box springs; just about
anything one could perceive.
I often find myself there
in awe of this surreal collage.

A community collaboration;
sensational work of artistry.
Each tossed trash
enriching another, fitting


  together like a 
carefully planned sculpture-
creating a grand design.
Each trash dumper 

contributing another
piece to the craft:
beer cans beside worn
baby strollers; bald tires

fitting nicely near
shopping carts.
They come one by
one, each in their

own special time
as if lovingly tossing
flowers into an open grave
has carefully as 

Alexander Calder-
a masterpiece concealed-

   very few will ever see.

Premium Member Yet Another Damn War

It's seven in the morning
The sun's shining bright
What more could we ask
What a glorious sight

Sure great to be living
On old planet Earth
There's no greater feeling
Than a new day's birth

Some wake with a frown
With a miserable face
With all that we have
That's an utter disgrace

The one's that are fortunate
Are the ones that can laugh
Their world's in the dumper
But they know it will pass

The sun will come out
We'll be singing once more
As we come to the end of
Yet another damn war!

© Jack Ellison 2014

Their Loss

never has complete denial 
torn a person up so much inside
(while doing its best to plaster
the charade of a smile
across a face)
as when someone 
agrees with a friend, a family member,
a coworker, or just some 
random stranger who might have the 
compassion
to listen to the self-pity drivel of the
“just dumped,”
that it was 
“their loss”
(meaning the “dumper”)---
though all the intentions may have been the best &
though all the love in the world might be there
to provide a net for when the “dumpee’
hurls themselves off the side of a very tall 
building,
does it comfort them at all
to wield such statements so
freely?

Premium Member Pure Rot

Some days are winners, others are not
Jury's out but seems things have gone to pot
My mood's in the dumper
My world's split asunder
We've run out of java, my day is pure rot

Ben and Jerry

Ben and Jerry each one of both of them is dumper than the other 

Ben and Jerry dump and dumper one of them call the  other a sir

Premium Member Delusion

I had a neighbor, who had delusion,
Of being poisoned by his kith and kin;
His wife seemed to him lively illusion,
Her delicacies he threw in waste-bin;
Sharing sweets from friends seemed to him a sin,
Eateries could not content his hunger,
As he felt these are but poison dumper;
He carried his cook wherever he went,
Could he, yet, get rid of his strong stumper?
He's half-dead now, in delusion, life spent...


07 January 2022

Premium Member my yard

My yard is full of useless things
Items I thought I had to have in my younger days
Some were used
Others were never used
My yard is a dumper-hoarder’s melting pot of stuff.

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