Best Grossest Poems
Once
these corridors
echoed with life
a citadel for restoration
of body and mind
a bastion of promise
for the tormented
to the outside world
it had many names
Forest Lawn Sanitarium
was its Nome de plume
I--- simply called it--- home
In its day
it was of grand design
cathedral ceilings
hung with crystal chandeliers
finest draperies form fitted
to spacious Windows
walls brightly painted
absorbing sun lights warmth
reflected off marble floors
yes--- it was exquisite--- so beautiful
Soon after my arrival --- I realized
that beauty often commits--- the grossest treasons
For beneath
these hallowed halls
there lay a world of darkness
a wilderness of living sorrow
doctors most vile
It was here--- that I came of age.
a place
where the rooms
festered in the putrid scent
of decaying dust
where the floors
where like walking
on shattered
brittle-- shards of glass
the broken sills
of cemented widndows
entomb the fragments
of yesterdays tormented souls
if only
the towers
could reverberate
the echoing wails
which pierce the silence
so thick
not to chase away
no--- but to call
the slithering shadows of doom
a place where torture
became science--- and science
a medical break through
but to me--- it was still home
Where despair
screams of stone cold fear
of ghastly ghosts
imprisoned with clattering chains
of morbid madness
lurking in secret skeletons
where charcoal coffins
resurrect in the curtain
of lethal skies
bloodletting and chilling memories
Blasted shrapnel of
crimson smeared sins
of hollow skeletons
buried beneath
the godforsaken guillotine
where harrowing horrors
howl mournful cries
and demented demons
putrify on crosses
Persecuted in the bars
of their endless eternal torture
Hope you like my home--- cause
no one gets out alive
This is a collaboration which was written with the poetess Midnight petals on another poetry site. This piece was written about a year ago...
While all they who are aware of your massive surveillance machine,
are covering their TV, lap top or whatever screens,
for that little bit of god given privacy,
yours truly has still been not only still doing things openly,
for all those devices with cameras and microphones hidden so cleverly
now owned by everybody,
especially now that I know that the NSA is monitoring me.
I'm still living this life pretending to have privacy.
I know that through these devices in my home, Big Brother IS Watching Me.
Now that I've joined over one million naturally born American citizens,
suspected possibly of possibly being possibly suspected of terrorism.
NSA, here is what you have to look forward to from yours truly.
I'm gonna be as grossest, as a grossest suspected terrorist can possibly be.
I'm not even going to mention what these gross acts are presently,
some readers reading this might be in the middle of having something to eat,
but NSA, this I say to all of you very truthfully,
you can look forward to My Gross Show performances 24/7, indefinitely.
and if one day I begin to gain any kind of popularity,
and you release any of that footage in any attempt to smear campaign me,
you are going to have to explain to the people how you got all of this on me,
with your ever growing larger still worldwide massive surveillance machine.
I look forward to entertaining all of my new pals and gals every night and day,
at the good old U S A's NSA.
Oh yes, NSA?
One other thing I forgot to say,
You'll all be so happy to know that my show won't have any commercial breaks.
The grossest element earth
shapes mind body form,
which remains inert until,
magnetism conjures a storm.
The air we breathe,
a gift from God,
causes nodes to stir,
leaving childlike heart awed.
Fire heats, water cools,
generating a toroidal force,
which once divine aligned,
connects soul to source.
God is the magician,
who entwines elements four,
that joyful heart begs
love for an encore.
Osteoporosis, spinal stenosis
halitosis, that's the grossest
Hemorrhoids, hypo hyper thyroids
gallbladder removal will leave a void
Arthritis, pyelonephritis, gingivitis
we will survive in spite of these
Toe fungus will not be the death of us
its' cure you will ask what was all the fuss
Crooked toes, snotty nose, itchy down below
Pancreatitis, gastroenteritis, myocarditis
cannot frighten us, though impotence might
and possibly to a womans' delight
on not
Torn rotator cuff, oral cancer from rubbing snuff
COPD will make you huff and puff
Diminished brain, malfunctioning drains
generalized aches and pains
of these we are not deprived
BUT, it's still awesome to be alive
QUEEN OF HEARTS
Queen of Hearts, delightful and red,
Baked some tarts, or so it is said,
Left them to cool on the windowsill:
Knave of Hearts then ate his fill.
Queen called the King to remonstrate -
Court-royal was assembled to adjudicate:
Knave was guilty, plain to see,
But the court-royal set him free.
Queen called her queen-friends, spades and clubs.
They agreed it was the grossest of snubs,
Suggested punishment for the King so red:
No dinner, no tv, no sleeping in her bed.
More tarts were baked in fulness of time.
Eating them was made a serious crime
By Queen’s new red husband,
The legally reliable King of Diamond.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Written for Paula Swanson's Contest "Pick A Card, Any Card"
Have you ever noticed how
raunchy our children can smell?
Like the stench that arises
from, say, a rotting seashell.
It's true; cohabitation
can impose a certain stink.
But family ignores it,
despite what others might think.
Sometimes a polite request
is personal and discreet.
And other times, dad might yell,
for God's sake, go wash your feet.
Baths are most often paid for
when odors can't be ignored.
Perhaps you'll offer a toy
or some treat as a reward.
When they sit on an incline,
foul gasses tend to leak out.
And with a rubicund blush,
they'll blame the dog, no doubt.
We have learned to tolerate
most odors floating around.
But those silent, deadly farts
are the grossest smell, hands down.
(Quatrain)
3/5/2015
"Not allowing yourself to be who you were always meant to be
is the grossest miscarriage of justice."
--by poet
You have a God-given right to be you
Live your truth fully each day
Let no one bully you.
SECOND PLACE WINNER
Written March 24, 2022
Syllables 10-7-6 checked by HMS and PS
For “Form K – Kimo” poetry contest
Sponsored by Constance La France
(This is a fictional poem)
You're making a peanut butter sandwich with sardines.
That's one of the grossest things I've ever seen.
Now you're putting marshmallows and gravy on it too.
I'm going to call the funny farm on you.
For fiercest queens, the finest pedigree,
Begetter and bestower of all lauds;
For foulest plagues, the fairest remedy,
Despoiler and destroyer of all frauds.
Revered for rectitude, renowned for laurels,
You helped reform the world to honest fame;
Reviled as sinister, renounced on morals,
The world deformed you to mendacious shame.
Now candid trade’s betrayed by blackened graft,
And harmless wit’s harangued by hurtful wile,
And simple skill’s arraigned by compound craft,
And vulgar pride's maintained by vulpine guile.
The grossest lies all get averred for gain
Since humblest truth became impugned and slain.
Lest I be guilty of grossest negligence
I feel like I must put in my own two cents
As I watch and evaluate strong evidence
We owe a debt of gratitude to Mike Pence.
I know, I know, he’s not even a Democrat
But on Jan 6th he knew where he was at
He stuck by the Constitution and all that,
As I see it, it takes courage to stand pat.
If Pence had listened to Donald J. Trump
Asked how high and been ready to jump
On our democracy, he’d’ve taken a dump
We’d’ve never recovered from the lump.
I’m pleased to know some have principle
Not willing to turn their back on sensible
And will defy their unscrupulous principal
I want more cut from a Mike Pence stencil.
Bravo to a politician I thought was a toady,
Wasn’t an a**-kissing Donald Trump roadie.
Moment by moment, as life does unfold
We find mind not fully immersed therein
Assigning meaning to what we behold
Diffusing vibrations grazing our skin
What we call waking, being grossest state
The light of awareness, here too flickers
During sleep, senses rested, we gyrate
Responses both instinctive and weaker
Subtlest state of deep sleep, oblivion
We feel rested but know not what transpired
Steady attention, distant horizon
For ego, it seems, has us all hard wired
Let us begin then, with the waking state
Choosing, if need be, to endlessly wait
17-June-2021
Come old and young, come big, little, wild and tall
Come down to the Legion, join the Hairy Leg Ball
Bring your varicose veins, please do not stall
Bring your grossest. hairiest ugliest furriest legs
To the marvelous, magical, loveliest Hairy Leg Ball
We will have razors to shave off most of your ruff.
We will hold you down hard, so you don’t give us no guff.
We will shave off your fleas, your lice, and all other stuff
If you give us a chance, we might make a swipe at your ****
All are welcome – the feeble, the wobbly, even the buff.
New rhyme, new lyric, an old melody
Michael, not the archangel, sat across from me
At table and spoke about his new outlook
On life, a sudden leap into conversion (I took
Him to mean) , that confusion in his addled brain
Had allowed family, friends, others to subtly gain
Control over his innate inclination to be gay
Asking, "And what do you think Jesus would say?
Almost incoherently, in tears, his soulful eyes fell
"I am so afraid of dying and going to hell! "
"If you should be punished forever, seems to me,
For not being who you were always meant to be
Is the grossest miscarriage of justice, my friend.
Here is the best advice I have to lend:
Self-denial is the pathway to hell on this earth
So, be true to yourself, and believe in your worth."
TENTH PLACE WINNER
Brian Strand's "Your Choice Contest"
Poetry Soup
smoked crack with many of the mayors friends
art of seduction
some of the grossest men
Need some clarity edmonton
someone crazy enough to get information
easy enough
and i'm a civilian
how your staff is unaware of your situation is mind blowing
I'd fire them
Homelessness and seasons used as weapons
and you deny you have an enemy
when they poison your people
take their jobs
and then the police beat up the homeless
Edmonton you have a problem
a huge drug problem
and its not a game
they are trying to kill you
one by one
and its working
working out for them just fine
drug dealers terrorising entire apartment buildings
and then the police beay up the victom
of a hostage situation
why would i lie about this
your munchanson jailbait scapegoat has something to say
your hospitals is one thing i will never forget
never ending reprimands for everything
and taunted towards suicide
and you have no problem with that
Not like i was undercover or anything
but obviously your enemies have found your achilles heal
and the people recovering from the attack of drugs and terror
in the wake of their dead friends and messed up parents
living on assistance is just a joke
they obviously know what they are doing
so who does that make happy
beat me to the punch
and turn the other cheek
Civil war of two cities
calgary better than edmonton
on the radio
civil war from province to province
i think you've lost control and have some issues
you need to pay attention to
your media is out of control
never ending reprimands for being alive
good luck edmonton
fairwell
Alas Dear Madam
Alas, dear Madam, have I thee wronged
by gesture, savage word, or deed,
thus giving thee cause for sorrow
importuning your heart to bleed?
Have I, dear Madam, given thee
injury so rank and so low
as to merit your cool design
to suffer me the status quo?
Dear Madam, have I deceived thee
and showered thee with silken lies,
or primed thee with honeyed words
to cloak dark purpose in disguise?
Nay, dear Madam, no wrong to thee
did I meanly perpetrate.
no grievous sin did I commit,
nor cold insult dedicate.
My grossest error, dear Madam,
was to unknowingly explore
the pride sleeping in your bosom
and its delicacy ignore.
So, dear Madam, please forgive me
for the numb bruises I once gave
to that one part of a woman
which no man should ever brave.