Best Feculence Poems
Indigenous Creatures of My Writing DeskThere is an antique writing desk
in my little study
handed-me-down
from generations of would-be
writers in my family
And there are ancient creatures
from days gone by
living in this old desk still
evil, larcenous little creatures
envious of literary skill
This explains much
Lately, I have caught them unawares
aghast, thought I imagined them
but they...
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Categories:
feculence, anxiety, feelings, humor, humorous,
Form:
Free verse
LatinLatin is abstruse whilst the learning battle ceased
Though as theorist thinkers, found a language lost,
Opaque it all may seem, but it’s merely just a dream
Then I’ll circumvent some adumbrate at least.
Impetuous the urge I ask to detail verse for you-
Meticulous does Latin sound,...
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Categories:
feculence, education, inspirational, may,
Form:
Classicism
Deadicated Verse To Jan Allison At the Dung Diners ClubAT THE DUNG DINERS’ CLUB-
Dung beetles them there beetles ;
That feed on feces;
Some species of dung beetles;
Ooh! Yum just love that feces from all the species;
Can bury dung 250 times their own mass;
In one night those dungs love to not pass;
Also known...
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Categories:
feculence, analogy, appreciation, food, insect,
Form:
Rhyme
Stool Matters--STOOL MATTERS--
O' crap, whatz wuzz that~!!
Oh, I stepped in and animal excrement,
specially that of common domestic
farm animals left in pasture used as fertilizer
Solid matter discharged alimentary canal
Protective covering
~
Excrement, especially that of common domestic
Droppings, stepping in and on that stuff
muck droppings dung compost
guano...
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Categories:
feculence, adventure, analogy, anxiety, engagement,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
Dung Excreta-Ala Poop Dejour-Crap dung excrement;
Discharged BM;
Defecation discharge fecal matter;
~
Wasted number two;
Deuce feculence faces manure;
Poop muck droppings ordure;
~
Guano guand cowpats
Dung know
4/26/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2020...
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Categories:
feculence, allegory, analogy, humor, word
Form:
Free verse
The PigsA humid day,
mosquito clouds swarm along
a red dirt road to the farm.
There are grimy rows of pig pens,
hazed dark by humming hordes
of black fly.
Bob (an old friend), chuckles.
“Man, you picked the wrong time of year
to come visit.”
The hogs grunt and squeal.
He waves,
“be with you soon.”
It’s...
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Categories:
feculence, poetry,
Form:
Free verse