Best Excrement Poems
A rose held before the dawn, overwhelmed by benevolent beauty,
its virginity violated by hostel hands,
only then will it reveal its blood-stained thorns,
where infatuated innocence is lost...
Days of sunny summer streams and apricot kisses
were surrounded by chastising clouds,
the night kneeled before us as we walked holding hands, side by side,
our love magnified by the monolithic moon...
Adonis and Aphrodite were the gods before us,
for their nectar poured from the heavens to fill our cups of mirth,
the arousing amorous air was abundant with adulation,
we were upon suspended animation in a Venus vortex...
A righteous rose was the catalyst that held our love together,
but then the skies turned to a horrid hue,
an insidious insertion infiltrates with thrusting and piercing providence
the rose has no chance, for now, the rose bleeds,
our beating breaths and love are torn asunder...
The rose withers away, drowning in its excrement,
our innocence has been lost, for now, the thorns prevail.
Music by...
When angels cry -
DJ Lava-Calling angel
April.21.2020
Pick-A-Title, Vol 16 - Free Verse 2
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
Placed 1'st...Thank You
Categories:
excrement, innocence, lost, sorrow,
Form:
Free verse
I smell the coppery scent of stale blood
and the stench of death, excrement, and piss.
A soldier lies dead, his face in the mud;
I never knew that war would look like this.
My mind is numb; I dare not shed a tear.
I can't change reality, so why try?
There is nothing left within me but fear;
I'm alive, yet sometimes I want to die.
I fear the killing will never be done;
hope has forsaken and abandoned me.
I fight in a war that cannot be won,
and I've seen more pain than I wish to see.
War is an ever-expanding abyss;
where merely surviving can feel like bliss.
Categories:
excrement, 10th grade, angst, anxiety,
Form:
Sonnet
What if I told you things aren't
what they used to be.
What if I told you clichés
are not always "for the birds"
That the Clichés cling for
a reason and have clung long.
Show me your truth sandwich;
What ingredients did you use?
Smoked lunch meat and cheese
Did you eat that, digest that?
What if I told you cheese is plastic
And ain't what it used to be?
And chicken feed ain't, flies and grain
But Plastic and GMO corn instead.
Don't feed the pigeons, says the sign.
But we don't eat the pigeons here.
So we feed them, and they eat
bits of truth that we now turn down,
Pigeons fly around downtown,
Without true food, without the truth.
Show me your truth sandwich;
What ingredients did you use?
Peanut butter and Bananas?
Pigeons spread disease in excrement
With bits of nontruth, splattered all over;
Making a point about the truth the whole truth
and nothing but the moot truth “So help you, Hanna"?
Cliché' may be our only reality, because little truths
matter, relevance should never be Obsolete.
Big or small, the truth must massively
Combust into big explosions of honesty.
If you should turn your back on truth
You will be face to face with a lie.
The truth needs to matter again
Or nothing else will.
Categories:
excrement, bird, parody, symbolism,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Annotated Achilles amends fallen frame amputees
Bulimic Barbies browse media monkey banalities
Cameo clouds cling to beaded breath curios
Dopamine dreams delineate check cash desires
Echo endophfins eulogize bullet brain excrement
Fecal folly fantasies reveal relevant frivolities
Gonadal grownups gulp secret scrotal generosities
Helical hemorrhoids hinder senior stricken hemocraps
Idiotic ideals idioiosyncrate postpartum iconoclasts
Jack Jill juxtapositories seek sexestential jouveniers
Kryptic killer kisses ascot arrogant kingdumbs
Liquid lipid loiners fear frontline lucklullibies
Malevolent mommies masterbate rich reflective mommocules
Nevertheless nightingales nourish ruby rich noonbeams
Ovulatory occults outsource torrent tofu outrages
Pensive pisces picnics lovelorny passions
***** quiet quintensials release rancid quotients
Rape ripe residuals nullify nimble repercussions
Silky seafoam silhouettes fornicate frothy sandlets
Tepid torch trilogies belie belligerent tourniquets
Useless utterances utilize organize orgasmic utopias
Venomous vixens violate cruel.com visions
White willow wombs softly seed hospice hell winds
XX XY xfactors envision extracurricular xraydoms
Yearning yoyo yesterdays calculate clearcovert yields
Zen zealous zions mirror magnify Zoneotones
Categories:
excrement, analogy, beautiful, body, corruption,
Form:
ABC
Dare you look deep into this darkness
Persecution of Jews - Holocaust
In Hebrew, this has the genocide
been called Shoah,
which means disaster or destruction
The journey has just begun,
and it is far from over
The destination is Auschwitz
to a place without return
The smell of vomit, urine and excrement is overwhelming
Without food and water, trapped in an unbearable heat
Everything is better than nothing
witch's brew, eaten with Satan's fork
made of bats, rats, worm and mice
The vultures is the bird and the messenger
who hunt along the train tracks
Dark tracks ... Jews were sent in closed
freight wagon - before they ended their lives in gas chambers
Their souls destroyed by evil and hatred
Neither will, power, alliances
or the strongest alpha males
- cannot escape the dirty claws of the Nazis
A young mother was raped by the soldiers
White dress with sewn-on transparent arms
a newborn baby suckles the mother's naked breast
It is definitely not for the faint of heart
Shoah !
Through tears, sweat and blood,
from generation to generation
At home in the window frame a red Begonia blooms
- for the last time
The door is branded with a yellow star
13/04/2021
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Last Train To Auschwitz Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Kai Michael Neumann
1st place in the contest
Categories:
excrement, dark, evil, war,
Form:
Free verse
Do you really think, that I am going to trade my eternal soul,
for your bowl of germ infested puke? Think again!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
O' sullen sullies of darkness....
How you often paint yourself so very innocent and pretty
While you drool at the corners of the edges of jagged
Within your ever deceiving, and your taintedly twisted smile and corroding mouth
Galloping around as if you were some fortitude of light and wisdom?
Amid these pretentious comforts, cast, from within a hollowed and daggered heart
Just as long, as you can capture everyone else, within your chains of bindings
Bound, unto your own darkened perspectives, beneath, your clinching claw sharpened
grasp....
Eructing your molten lavas, spewed, of your gargoylish poisoned vomit
Upon the lives of those who are somewhat already blind, themselves?
Offering your beguiling and benumbing putrid stench, to alluringly, lure them in
Into the depths, of your own black widow webbed horror show....
While pounding upon your chest, as if you were the conqueror of them all?
As you leave your trails of excrement and slime, within the dust, of your ever slithering wake
These your offerings, before all of Heavens disbelieving and watchful eyes!
Unto the unknowing and eternal souls, which you try so desperately, to swallow whole!
But your indignities and godlessness, will not escape your forthcoming demise....
For your manglings, disfigured, shall lead unto your own wraths, pending doom....
And yet for now, you do still stand, unscathed, within your wantingly amissful ignorance
Projecting unto others, as if you were some sort of mighty tower, in which they, should
believe?
But knowing deep inside of yourself the truth, of how very feeble and lost, you truly are!
Standing in front of this melting mirror, within your plotting poisoned mind....
A flower of the darkest soils, charcoals of crimsons ashes, your burning, and scorching flames
Lucifers child, of the neverendings, forever, and endless pain...."You!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
....Darkness Falls....
{The final kiss}
Categories:
excrement, visionary
Form:
Wake up fresh in the morning, free from daytime's infections
Splash a pot of coffee on your pristine complexion
Rev up your car's engine: Send a cloud of smoke into the air
Motor off to work: Emit toxic pollutants over the road everywhere
Sprint to your desk: Turn on the computers, the a/c and the lights
Ratchet up enough current to frazzle countless insects and mites
At break, leave the office: Enjoy a quick smoke
Then smell your clothes -- a tar-and-nicotine cloak
Back at your desk, sweat pours down your body
Mingled with the smell of your cloak, you're off to the potty
Where you befoul the toilet, the hallway and office
With tincture of excrement, exotic odor so nauseous ...
**********
Now this poem's not going to sink, burn or crash
Here's how to remove gobs of rubbish and trash
Step into the shower at the close of each day
Turn on the water full-throttle: Blast those germs away
Let the welcome droplets cascade down your head, face and arms
Wash the stench away with H2O's charms
Categories:
excrement, environment, pollution, water,
Form:
Rhyme
My Favorite Things comes to mind...
a random assortment, a jumble of words
a quotient of portions, quotidian served
quixotic strivings of the great deca-dense
obscured in meaning, eschewing all sense
visions and nightmares and hallucinations
erudite arguments, odd fascinations
old geezers fondling memories of things
most folk would not to mixed company bring
inchoate ramblings of damaged young minds
bubbled through water and cardboard box wine
audible groans from the web server host
these are the ones make me giggle the most
shouting in vacuums, a riotous void
pontificating, or mildly annoyed
grieving, believing, or weaving a string
virtuous outburst that don’t do a thing
rants about orange man and all his mean tweets
and, yes, “Let’s go, Brandon” to make things complete
guns, poo, abortion, yes, all are discussed
sometimes the thin-skinned bail out in disgust
side by side, posting, the sage and the fool
the wise in their youth and those starting to drool
bleeping our excrement down on the page
somehow it all seems to soften the rage
when the bard shouts
when the muse screams
‘bout covid or Vlad
we’re at a computer
with just poo to fling
and that makes me laugh a tad
Categories:
excrement, humorous, parody,
Form:
Rhyme
Day 1
I sit to write in peaceful solitude,
while words of tranquil elegance exude
visions of nature's beauty and soft light,
but it's not my muse which has taken flight.
A bastard housefly sails a curvy path,
as irritation grows to rage and wrath.
Essentially, the reason is because
this little jerk emits a galling buzz.
When I think the skumbag's finally stopped,
and I could hear it if a pin were dropped,
the excrement eating insect starts again,
an insidious attack upon my brain.
You would not think a creature who is this small
could find a way to bother me at all,
and yet he drives me completely daft and nuts,
until upon my window, I see his guts.
Day 2
Awaking from a frightful fever dream,
I hear a buzz, and choke down a helpless scream.
The window guts, a subconscious, wishful scene,
before I slept, I missed with the magazine.
One slight move, he's no longer stationary.
Have I misjudged this pint-size adversary?
His flight is like 3-D billiards in the halls,
bouncing off unseen, invisible walls.
Why has this beast chosen me to torment,
to lead me in my sanity's descent
to Hell, a place I would gladly send him
if my worthless Westways could only rend him.
Yet, I said, "fly to the screen door, for once,
and we'll both be free, you insectoid dunce".
A desperate jack o'lantern, I am hollow.
Everywhere I go, he seems to follow.
Perhaps, the little guy has something to say,
tracing the 3-D model of DNA.
Does he buzz the hundred thirty-seventh psalm?
Could it be that last week, I killed his mom?
Day 3
Hopefully, I think the fly's diminished,
and that soon this monster will be finished.
He seems to be flying slowly like he's drunk.
His decibel measure significantly shrunk.
He's fast and young, but he's aging faster,
giving me the better odds to plaster
him. Who will be victorious in the end?
On whose nerves are made of steel, it will depend.
Day 4
Dead on the floor, two haggard creatures lay.
In one's hand, "you're just like a summer's day".
Categories:
excrement, death, humor, insect,
Form:
Rhyme
When a know-it-all paints the wall
With your silhouette in excrement...
Do not engage the louse,
For a fly does not enter a closed mouth.
8/15/2019
Categories:
excrement, insect, people,
Form:
Epigram
At the Charlie Norton School of Performing Arts
They only taught armoured acting parts.
They had a special maintenance man
Always kept busy with his little oil can
Keeping the suits free of fleas
And all the joints moving with ease,
Especially the cunningly concealed vent
For the disposal of excrement
And the removal of noxious gasses
Which even the refined on occasion passes.
Trying to learn lines could be hell
When surrounded by your own trapped smell.
In the event of a dearth of suitable parts
They taught other non performing arts
Like sweeping leaves away from drains
In the event of torrential rains.
As this part of the course was free
It didn’t carry its own degree
But for the elite chosen few
It could be a unit of your NVQ.
The Charlie Norton School of Performing Arts
Gives your career a powered kick start
Categories:
excrement, art, career, education, mentor,
Form:
Rhyme
I'm torn across axis yet to exist,
Or had once been, since been replaced,
By a sense of self and lack thereof,
When we, by they encased.
Cleavage adorned in modest terms,
Abreast as if more than one.
Still less than two, duplicitous you,
Less I divide by hegemon.
Senses shook, a daily wage,
Of war: be both me and we?
An ancient oath neither new nor folk,
Balanced in breath and breathe.
But neath the solemn sour safety,
Of comfort feigning folly's fiction.
Forces fractured by focused fascists,
Portent predative predilection.
Between divides by you and I,
A smaller font you'll find.
Who's letters miss the passerby,
But slip into the mind.
Conquered race and gender lines,
Further feathered along behaviors;
Soaked in Sun Tsu solar signs,
Matrimony meets our savior.
Boots worn by oceans born,
Mediterranean leather-flavor;
Curing gold from suckled horn,
Mammalian mouths may never savor.
Viral loads in swarming codes,
Placental detriment,
Tossed up population nodes,
Waning wax and excrement.
I walked into the door,
Shut it hind before the shore;
Horus hocus pocus drawer,
Before I knew internal roar.
Categories:
excrement, abuse, age, allusion, america,
Form:
Free verse
Government policies that toilet stink
Presidentially approved
by a potty-mouth politrician rat-fink
Give the progressive town halls
more executive bathroom stalls
Read the foul language scrawls
on the Oval Office latrine
dollar-bill green painted walls
Flush the rank noise
with a few
smelly issue tissue tweet bawls
That dung aroma gon make your nose blink,
bowel vapors
will have your thoughts vomiting in the sink
Get the voting public
standing at nausea attention
Prep the ballot masses of breathy dissension
with sound bytes
of bitter chocolate bung mint,
duly veto sent
Tell ‘em it’s their sworn patriotic duty
to greedily eat the excrement
Taste the butt-hole flavor
of nasty worded inhalation torment
Truth got swallowed whole ... intestinal sold
Filthy lucre lips
do love the ruble con savor
Condition the brownie-nose party bound chumps
to double dip the cow chips
into the raw sewage salsa with the brown lumps
Be stricken by the loose tongue,
back-end diet
of diarrhea verbose crying
A cheeky butt buffet ...
odious motives with odoriferous intent
Buy the all-you-can-eat lying,
go feast on the swirling fear excrement
Categories:
excrement, political, satire, slam, truth,
Form:
Rhyme
At crushing depths
Titanic rests
Rusticles- like red ice
hang from her corpse
[the excrement of
fathoms deep bacteria]
And now technology
[ undreamed of when it was needed]
peers at her
[long submerged wreckage]
from slick sub-like vessels
taking computer generated
photo mosaics
[for investigators to pore over.]
Once, mystifying questions
are un-layered one by one
from evidence locked
within her tortured skeleton,
revealing
[ not the simple impact of an iceberg]
sealed her fate]
but rather, a 'series of happenings',
[without remedy.]
Rivets with 'too much slag'
gave way
letting in Atlantic's weight
Her belly full,
she hugged her center keel
[in futile efforts]
to keep bow and stern connected.
As she sank, into eternity,
chambered cells,
[once meant to prevent
the onslaught of the sea,]
were swiftly breached
Sea weight tore her
great- ship's-soul asunder,
and sinking to the sea's dark floor,
she took with her,
poor forsaken passengers
[crying in disbelief ]
at the cruel and lying 'myth.'
See sawing down,
the broken stern end
speared, into fathoms deep mud,
the bow rails stayed intact
[for all the ghosts
to lean on ]
And with the solving of
her final hours,
it is unthinkable,
that this rusticled specter
[once so full of mystery]
had been declared to be
'unsinkable.'
ALL YOURS (Jun 10)
Contest Judged: 6/9/2021 11:40:00 PM
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
First Place
Categories:
excrement, destiny, fate, history, integrity,
Form:
Free verse
I despair when I’ve stepped in dog poo
Excrement on the sole of my shoe
It would be indiscreet
If I crapped in the street
I wish doggies would use a pooch loo!
I mowed the grass but now feel forlorn
I see cat poo all over my lawn
My neighbour’s pussy
Is so darn fussy ...
It's just my lawn that he treats with scorn!
Here’s my whine now pass the Cheese Contest
Sponsored by Phillip Garcia
08~01~16
Categories:
excrement, anger, humorous, pets,
Form:
Limerick