Best Gross Poems


Premium Member Stuck in My Gut - Gross Limericks

My boyfriend was agitated
Because I was constipated
We'd be late for the game
Of course I was to blame
My butt hole's not dialated

On and on he whined and waited
Use of laxatives, debated
In my gut it was stuck
I could smell it... oh yuck
Boyfriend getting more frustrated

I could hear the game on the phone
I said, "Go. Just leave me alone!"
But he didn't hear me
His team was up by three
Stomach hurt, I let out a moan

Half hour later, he was snoring
I guess the game must be boring
I still sat on the can
Cursing my boyfriend, Dan
Who was no longer adoring.

After being lubricated
I sighed at being elated
Although my butt was sore
I had to poop no more
My bowels had been vacated

I found Dan's note and shook my head
"I had to poop, so went home instead
of waiting for you, Sue.
After this, we are through!"
That's exactly what his note said.

I felt relief, more ways than one
Happy that Dan and I were done
Now I can be alone
When sitting on my throne
No one shouting, "Hurry up, Hun!!"
© Lin Lane  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Gross Fruits

We planted a gross of strange, cube shaped fruits
Below the soil, then waited for shoots
When summer was through
Only twelve grew
Which is what you get when you plant, square roots

Premium Member My Blue Cheese Is Gross Meat

Red meat is fine, and burgers I adore,
but meat that is disgusting I deplore.
To eat pigs’ feet or some poor creature’s brain
I think a person has to be insane.
A friend of mine once asked me eagerly
to try her meat dish, but I could not see
that smothered in its sauce were slabs of fat
still on the meat! When I bit into THAT,
I had to leave the room to spit it out.
I’d rather have to eat a brussel sprout!
But worst is liver. Just a slither of IT,
and for sure, you’re going to see me vomit!


Jan. 12, 2018 for Kevin Shaw's  My Blue Cheese is ......Contest


Premium Member Are You Sitting Comfortably - Gross Humour Warning

I’m dining with my cousin Giles
Who disclosed he’d terrible piles
He’s wriggly and twitchy
Cos his butt’s so itchy
His visage is sad, there’s no smiles

He’d  tried using soft margarine
This process had just made him scream
So he did not linger
With his index finger
But Anusol worked like a dream

I said it was my understanding
That surgeon ‘s do hemorrhoid banding
But if he has it done
Sitting down he may shun
On this subject I won’t be expanding!


Next time I saw my Cousin Giles
They’d successfully removed his piles
So he can sit down
No trace of a frown
And Giles is chock full of smiles

10/09/21

Oh Like That Is So Gross

A Maggot couple began the tradition of getting married in June...

Gross Joke

Bugger nose

Finger goes

Roll roll roll












Poem written as a Ellip ( form of Haiku) for Ellip Contest.


Premium Member He Nose How To Pick Em - Gross Humour Warning

Mam told me I must eat my greens
I’m certain I know what she means
I pick lots of snot,
And then eat the lot
It’s tasty and full of proteins! 

Mam’s livid and screams ACT YOUR YEARS
Aged fifty, I burst into tears
She whacks me round the head
Then she sends me to bed
And now I’ve got cauliflower ears!

For a lovely on line friend who gave me the first line and challenged me to write a poem ... it caused many snickers when he got the final poem

12/23/21

Gross Monstrosity

Gross insect!
O Monstrosity!
Of putrid death beguiling me.
Be gone! O blemished devil’s bat!
You vex me perched upon my lap.
Such ugly gait and sticky bait,
Of bile produced from concentrate;
Detestable untouchable
Beyond my intellectual conception
That your existence has some meaningful intention.
   
     With filthy wings you take to sky,
         And leave your stain upon my thigh;
	   Twas it winged gods on high,
	     That made something so awful fly?

O but menace, do your worst!
Quite cunning in your fur so coarse.
I hate you, Ai!
My pecan pie!
Ill eyes behold your newest sty;
Infection of a dear confection,
Destroyer of my grand perfection!
O how I loathe proximity
To this grotesque
Monstrosity!

Gross Invasion of Privacy

don’t need the KGB
don’t need the CIA
don’t need the FBI
don’t need the MI5
don’t need the ASIS
don’t need the SIRC
don’t need the CSE
don’t need the I&SC
don’t need the MSS
don’t need the PAP
don’t need the SGDN
don’t need the BfV
don’t need INTERPOL
etc.
etc.
etc.---
because mr. zuckerberg had a
dream
mr. zuckerberg wants you to be part of his
dream
mr. zuckerberg wants you to place all your innermost 
everything
in his little pocket
for all the world to see
under his umbrella
all on his watch, so much so that
these governmental intruders don’t even have to ask anymore---
nope,
thanks to mr. z,
they can learn all about you
by the info that you provide
stretching all across the globe
as you are being whored out to every advertising agency on the planet
as you are being food for the consumption machine
as you are sliced up by the double-edged sword of
a “need” to be socially “in the loop,”
while at the same time sucked into the revolting act of being raped
by everyone & anything that wants a piece of you.

A Gross Understatement

Just once, could you
Understand my 
Side of
Things?

Over and over again and we
Never
Even get to the point that I'm

Mostly right!
Open your eyes to
Reality!
Even a child can see

That it's your fault and you're the
Only one to

Blame!
Let go
And just deal with your
Mistakes.
Even though I don't know how that feels, I'm always here for you.

Gross

Gurgling bowels
Summon me to china bowl
Diarrhea spurts
© Ijm Seven  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member No Toilets In the Sky - Vaguely Gross

Warning: vaguely gross content... hmm, can something be ‘vaguely’ gross?

NO TOILETS IN THE SKY
To the tune of Ghost Riders In The Sky (loosely)


Santa’s doing tinkles as he travels on his way
Sprinkling golden showers ’cross the moonlit sky today
He has no private place to pee which fills him with dismay
For there’s no public toilets... in the Milky Way

Santa’s got his legs crossed cos he’s been out on the beer
His guts are throwing tantrums and he wishes home was near
He knows he’s gonna poo his pants that fact is fairly clear
For there’s no public toilets... in the upper atmosphere

He needs to go
He needs to pray
No toilets in the sky

Santa hits some turbulence and says a little prayer
He needs to poo and piddle but there’s nowhere private there
He’s sure he gonna throw up and become a vomit sprayer
For there’s no public toilets... in the ozone layer

Santa’s gonna poop himself, how will he show his face
Public humiliation, and permanent disgrace
He can’t hold on much longer, though he needs a private place
For there’s no public toilets... on the edge of space

He needs to go
He needs to pray
No toilets in the sky

Santa belched and burped and then his tummy grumbled loud
His fart was wet but silent, he was glad because he’s proud
Santa’s really trying not to throw up over crowds
For there’s no public toilets... high above the clouds

Santa’s doubled up, good job the reindeer know the way
He’s squirting out of every orifice a putrid spray
All kinds of hell are raining down on Earth this Christmas Day
For there’s no public toilets... in the Milky Way

He needs to go
He needs to pray
No toilets in the sky
No toilets in the sky
No toilets in the sky

Premium Member Mission Impassible - Gross

The river’s running higher than the river’s run before
I knew it was; there’s three feet of it on my kitchen floor
And next doors garden shed came crashing into my front door
But I needed a number two and I could wait no more

I waded to my staircase and I clambered up the stairs
Getting to my bathroom was the biggest of my cares
I did what needed doing and the paperwork was done
But when I flushed ‘my bear’ it came back with another one

And now the water’s rising right up through my bathroom floor
Those two big bears are bobbing between me and that there door
I really need to get out but the pipes have changed the score
For those two poopy bears have been joined by another four!

My loo looks like a fountain spouting such a frothy stink
I’ve got out of the water for I’ve climbed up on the sink
My loo then spouted something that was like a poop from hell
It seems I have a neighbour who is really quite unwell

And then I heard a yell, ‘the water’s going down a bit’
I grabbed a really deep breath and I made a break for it
As I left I turned the gas on and I lit a candle
And swam like hell because the clean up this man couldn’t handle

I got about a hundred feet and then my house erupted
And I got splattered with the stuff with which it was corrupted
If ever this recurs I’ll check the things I should be knowing
Like what goes up must come down… and which way the wind is blowing

Gross Income

Gross Income 


80% of the entire global wealth
Is owned by 15% of the global population

Never before in the annals of human history
Has so much been owed 
To so many
By so few

The economy is collapsing
All around us
People that we see
On the streets and suffering

The system setting ready for imploding
How did this come to be
That the poor and the ordinary
Are being pushed further into poverty

Kids are going hungry
Now it’s not just a problem for the third world 
We’re all beginning to see
What it’s like to live with prosperities tourniquet

But there’s fat man in a big fat car
Sucking on a big fat cigar
And he doesn’t give a damn who you are
And there’s a house on a big fat hill
Where he sits sucking on a big fat world
A multi million construction of luxury

Yes his toes are always warm
Sits there in couldn’t care-less complacency
Big fat belly always full
Swimming pool is always cool
No he’s not part of what’s going on
Sits there with a big fat grin
Plugged into the profiteering
Bloodsucker of capitalism

And there’s a mother with a hungry baby
Her husband lost his job just this Monday
He’s out there on the porch staring at the ground
Because there is no work to be found

He was a cut back to save the gross income
And the profitable wages of a corporation
So the managing director 
Could still take his two-month holiday in the sun

No it’s not his stomach that is empty
Why should he care he is wealthy
Big fat man in other peoples clothes
And walking around in other peoples shoes
Not his concern that the people on the streets
Haven’t got enough to eat
He just wants to make sure the chrome stays polished
On his fleet of cars

We all saw it coming 
While we were all trying to live the dream
In this capital culture of ego need
Scrambling over each other
To catch the drips 
From the big fat mans under exerted sweat

These days we all have to worry
Wonder how this crisis came to be
Yup; it’s all about the money and the slavery
And the avarice and the greed
Of the bloodsucking industry

Never before in the annals of human history
Has so much been owed 
To so many
By so few

Trump Is Gross

Trump Is Gross

There is no doubt Trump is gross
Around waist has much adipose
Small hands and lips that pucker
And definitely is a dumb clucker
Actually thinks that he is verbose.

Jim Horn
© James Horn  Create an image from this poem.

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