Best Filth Poems
Some people use poetry to say ugly things;
Write filth and then call it art.
They expose all the sludge their mind can concoct,
And they think that this makes them look smart.
They think they're so cool, so with it, so smart,
Such worldly sophisticates,
When in truth they're telling all the world,
That they're base, depraved, mis-fits.
They expose the true nature of their way of life.
They think that this makes them so free.
They cannot see that they've sold their souls,
And they're slaves to debauchery.
For certain sex is a large part of life,
And holds an important spot;
But it's only one part and you haven't got much,
If in truth that's all that you've got.
Who really cares what you did last night;
Or who it was you did it with;
And for you to spread it abroad to all,
Cheapens and makes it no gift.
There is so much beauty and fun in this world,
And it's all there to taste and to savor.
How boring to live in a candy store,
And never taste more than one flavor.
People make fun of animals because they are so natural about their life and so unashamed,
but they are the only ones who have not sullied what God meant as a blessing.
They are the only ones who have remained just as God intended them to be.
We on the other hand destroy or dirty everything we touch and turn God's most intimate blessings into a dirty joke.It sure makes me tired.
Can anyone explain this to me?
Kind of gives the Scripture" The meek shall inherit the earth." new meaning doesn't it.
When the woollen industry died,
the reservoir that fed the old mill,
became disused.
The water meadow at its head
became a swamp.
Developers,
who want to build houses everywhere,
take one look at the quagmire,
sniff the stench fouled air, and walk away.
The channels are long blocked.
The drains are long broken.
So a freed, unmanaged, unmanacled nature;
binges on the anarchy of liberation,
brewing a brackish broth of sweet stagnation.
Children are warned to stay away
from the deadly, dangerous, disease
ridden slough.
Lest the Knucker Dragon, swamp devil,
swallow them whole.
Bulrushes,
point brown accusing fingers to the sky,
blaming the heavens for their
muddied becoming and placement.
Blood worm larvae,
orphaned Fly Nymphs,
ravenous in the root and stem of grasses;
greedily gorge without discrimination,
where cannibal repast; is often a relation.
Herons, are shadows that pass over,
heading for the cleaner waters below.
Snipe scutter
in the soft mire, poking for grubs.
Busily burying beaks in the
flowering Bogbean, and Hogweed:
Yellow Flag Iris,
and Ragged Robin,
rampantly roar a rich cacophony of colour.
Beady eyed, scruffy small,
fat water vole.
Mining leerdammer labyrinths in the banks,
faring fine on favoured vegetation,
prosperously multiply in stinking habitation.
I need a shower
To remove the filth from me
The filth everyone can see except me
The filth that keeps him from wanting me, my body
What does he see that I can't?
Do you have no morals?
You'd do anything for satisfaction
At the drop of a hat, you're on your knees.
All you want is a fix.
Or maybe you're after something physical
Most would classify you as a whore,
you and your accomplice.
But I know better than that
You're nothing but a disappointment to the human race
All of you
You're all the same
You're only as good as the tasks in which you partake.
He tells you he loves you,
but only when you perform his dirty deeds.
That's not love, sweetheart.
He's using you to get what he wants
He knows you'll give it to him, too.
You're easy.
You're weak.
And I can see where you're headed
You're just going to end up brokenhearted.
He'll find someone else, you know he can.
Don't let him ruin you
Don't be his slave.
You're better than that.
You're better than that, and you know it.
How Much Filth Did You Eat Today?
By Elton Camp
What can a title like this one possibly mean?
Isn’t food inspected by the FDA perfectly clean?
No, Food Defect Action Levels the FDA has set
They only limit how high insect fragments can get
There may be up to ten fly eggs in a tomato can
Or else up to two maggots is the alternate plan
Consumers who might eggs to maggots prefer
Cannot know which of these happened to occur
A hundred grams of peanut butter is able to contain
Thirty insect parts or else one rodent hair may remain
Popcorn may have twenty gnawed grains per pound
Or else the standard is that two rodent hairs are found
There’s scant comfort that mushrooms can pass exams
If a tin contains up to twenty maggots per 100 grams
Actually the taste of the food they won’t hurt at all,
But the squeamish factor may make some folks squall
Thirty fruit fly eggs in 100 grams of ketchup are okay
Two maggots per hundred blueberries FDA does say
None of these contamination levels should cause alarm
To our health they are believed not to cause any harm
Exactly what it is that we are eating it’s best to ignore
If perfectly clean, the food we couldn’t afford anymore
So just forget about this and enjoy as you gulp it down
And hope that, in it, not a single mouse pellet was found
Why put layers of filth over a heart .. just let it beat
The heart.
Have it pure.
Discontinufy ego.
Made to give ,
Celebrum blood has to receive.
To direct you to live.
Have it clean.
First thing that begun to beat
Hit..
Significance.
A vice
For wit.
Divergent cases.
Dust of mistake.
-When our heart could stop it's rate.
Even if the lengh is low
Living doesn't reoccur.
Why put layers of filth over a heart .. just let it beat.
-Rosie
We all have grovelled before men
No matter how proud, how often we won:
Few have not begged God for anything, ever!
I have grovelled & prayed dirty to EL ELYON: Most High
And humanity (we have a word here, UBUNTU) as I cried
When my foes found favor that Jesus 'promised' me
II
I ACCUSED GOD & JESUS IF UNFAITHFULNESS
almost retracting, repenting in minutes
But sure, I pray dirty sometimes
Even as I find a garden to dirty my hands
For becoming one with "dirt-y" Earth, changes dirt
And hurt THROUGH ANYTHING one is grateful for
III
Pray dirty dear Heart, if you have no help
Jesus runs the Universe, with Skin on
He got dirty on earth, too, never filthy
He can take abuse: crucifixion is no picnic
And is right on time, to the second, in rescuing me
As more perverse lifestyles are glamorized on t.v.
I wonder what kind of country this is going to be?
You’ll often find on the news interviews of various kinds…
Entertaining more garbage to
“dump” into our minds!
The garbage and filth they’re often promoting….
They think this same kind of life, I should be “enjoying?”
There’s something very wrong with this picture!
I don’t need the news to give me a “moral lecture!”
This may sound old fashioned and absurd…
It’s time we all come back and obey God’s word!
It’s the word of God! Not the news,
we need for instruction!
Without God’s truth in us,
we’re headed for destruction!
God still loves you very much! And he hasn’t forgot…
You’re always on his mind, and his thoughts!
He’s what you need to focus your attention and depend on!
He is someone who’s faithful,
and you can count on!
Won’t you walk away, and leave the filth behind you?
And allow God’s love and mercy
to reach out and find you?
He will never disappoint you!
With a brand new way of living!
An abundant life with peace and joy….
Is what he’s giving!
By Jim Pemberton UNSUPPORTED CODE
I can't live without this
I have found life in death
Healing through sickness
Creation through destruction
Light in darkness
I can't live without this
That which holds me down gives me flight
That which enslaves me, frees me
That which sickens me, heals me
I've found purity in filth
and Filth in purity
Nothing held sacred is sacred
Sickness overcomes me
It lets me soar
(Originally written 11-24-19)
Head to bars,
Yet I am too poor to drink,
But cruising is dead,
Because we are too respectable now,
Save for me and a few old men,
Who rather than their wives,
Do face the clean white porcelain,
And in their minds create,
Handsome young things,
Till once again we are disturbed by cleaners,
Who wash away us filth.
EVEN ANTS WOULDN’T PERVADE THAT PERFECT PICNIC
Do you?
When he does that to you
Do you?
I would just like to know
When you lay toe to toe
And he puts his head next to yours
When he opens up doors
And over a threshold you glide
With him as your guide
Whilst you sometimes feel lost
Midst a mid-winter’s frost
When he gazes at your eyes of cerulean blue
I wonder
Do you?
When that certain song reaches its crescendo
And an audacious Autumnal breeze comes to blow
Over a red checkered cloth placed neatly on the lawn
With him as a rook to your pawn
Sharing a picnic of priceless perfection
And signs of mutual affection
When even old things seem suddenly brand new
I wonder
Do you?
When apple blossoms bloom on an early April day
And love no longer seems quite so far away
With the refrain of a long welcomed rain
And all the loveliness love can ordain
When that crescendo becomes one lovely refrain
And the two of you kneel
in an old church’s pew
I wonder
Do you?
When he sets your soul soaring and free
Do you?
Do you ever wish you were still with me?
© 2012…copyright..PHREEPOETREE....~free cee!~
this world makes me sick
the filth abound
is so easily found
from T.V to billboard
all I see is your filth
nothing is sacred
or held in secret
why is it necessary for me to see you nude
in some countries that's considered rude
the only place I need to see a bra is in a store
not on the body of a recently post teen whore
for that's what they are
showing more flesh than a dancer at a topless bar
I say keep your clothes you on
for nothing has been won
you have no honor
just the temporary attention of the human animal
your victory is but minimal
for when you're old and gray
you will rue the day
when your place has been replaced
and some young woman
prances on T.V wearing only lace
To endure my living
to spiritual purification,
I washed it
with several detergents
as my filthy dirty clothes
several times in my whole life.
Black hairs in my head
took its color off turning grey
Like the water soluble one.
The tender skin
Wrinkled
Like the skin of an old tree.
My far-sighted eyes
Blurred
As the tainted mirror.
Scrubbing me on the time stone,
I worn myself out instead.
The vestiges of my soul
………………………
Remained as it's.
*
Up the Staircase
?
Your feet reluctantly begin
to climb the broken, filthy stairs,
in this hell-hole of outcast ones,
without someone who even cares.
Stairs stink of urine and feces.
They reek of cooking cheap fast food.
You know when you get to the top,
you won’t find one thing that is good.
Women who sell themselves for food,
or a bottle; a hit of dope.
Uncombed hair, dirty nails lined black,
no pride or the least bit of hope.
Here live the cowboys who let men
ride them so they can pay the rent.
Some sweaty man who stinks of filth,
that a pimp on a corner sent.
A saggy mattress with roaches
and mouse-holes, a yellow pillow
stiff with things you do not want to
know, sheets as rough as old Brillo.
Here they live and here they all die,
unremembered, unrepentant.
Potter’s field is the next stop, but it
at least has no outrageous rent.
I READ YOUR POEM
THOSE WORDS DESCRIBE YOUR THOUGHTS
AND FEELINGS
THEY SPEAK LIKE MENTIONINGS
AND REEL LIKE WHISPERS
WHO MOUTH SPEAKS
THE THE FILTH OF YOUR
THOUGHTS.
THEIR POSITION AND FOOLISH
PRONUNCIATION
TICKLES OF DUMBFOUNDED
WORDS.
CURSES TO YOU THAT YOU HATE ME.
I LOVE YOU IF YOU LOVE ME.