Best Gunk Poems
Inexpert at rhyme
or singing in time
I bray like a laryngitic donkey
my artwork's inept
I'm ham-fisted except
when doodling things that are wonky
Of style I'm bereft
my feet are both left
splayed in an opposite direction;
'tis little wonder
I blindfully blunder
into despair and abject dejection
My mind is a bog
of gunk and cheap grog
my gray matter's shrinking, I fear
today is a haze
yesterday a maze
and everything's clearly unclear
My dress sense is eish
and fits not my niche
nor do my shorts, come to that
my flip-flops are worn
my t-shirts all torn
one boob is fat, one is flat!
Despite many a flaw
I'm not an eyesore
though ungainly and lacking in style
with my stunning good looks
I easily hooked
your soon-to-be-ex with my smile
(For Beloved Pets competition, submitted June 16th 2015)
Tell-tale marks from your last climb, those claw marks in the paper
removing the wall coverings better than a shop bought scraper
the light pull I have had to change, the curtain cords as well
shampooed the landing carpet three times now to clear the smell
each week another dead rodent and slugs, just one or two
you've turned the space behind the couch into your private zoo
The scratch posts I sent back (good job that I kept the receipts)
since for that job the table leg you find is hard to beat
sticky gunk on cushions, God knows where you'd picked that up
and leaping on the counter knocking off my favourite cup
getting me to climb, at my age, up into the tree
to rescue you but you climbed down and ran off, leaving me
the Fire department had a laugh, but no, you didn't care
but sashayed off, oblivious, long tail held in the air
piles of towels for drying you from days spent in the rain
on next door neighbour's garage roof, governing your domain
the Doctor says my blood pressure is just a little high
I felt I'd lose my dignity if I really told him why
since all it takes it just one look from two bright amber eyes
to soften up the heart of one long suffering old moaner
I love you my Celeste, my Cat, forever-
from your owner x
Trumpeting sounds of elephants
Pleasant rides, tricks, and children’s chants
In a place called Thailandia
The tourists come from Sandia
They visit their uncles and aunts
Ride the bulls, play, touch, watch them paint
Unaware of treatment, restraint
A few people saw the dark side
The brutal industry must hide
You are led into tours quite quaint
Taken away from her mother,
Trained to toil for another
Enslaved as a beast of burden
Sweet baby calf called Lily Len
White as milk, she’s like no other
Len’s father a combat hero
And although she would never know
He, equipped with iron armor
Knee pads, and sounds of drums of war
Strongest was he, true warrior
In colorful costume adorned
For royals to ride she was born
Her spine aches, he is too much weight
Len resigned to this awful fate
Between two worlds she is now torn
Crying for a hopeful sign
Recalls Airvata the divine
He, the legend water child
Len prays to him so beguiled
And in her sleep their souls align
Airvata reaches down with his trunk
To the underworld she’d been sunk
Sucked up and sprays her in a cloud
Awakened she feels safe and proud
Happily sprayed with muddy gunk
Separated at birth, now three
Len is saved, taken to Nuwee
A lovely rainforest in Lanark
Near a river, Phant’s Nature Park
Where she washes, where she roams free
hey buddy, I have to tell you,
you stink just like rat pooh!
raw effluent smells so much better!
I wear a gas mask so I can breathe around you,
to say your dirty would be complementary,
I hear you work in a mortuary,
ain't that where all the dead heads hang out?
you, your head, you nutter!
get back to where you belong, back in de gutter!
did I use to call you bro?
a mistake, now I know!
I need fresh air gotta go!
before I do I bought you a bar of soap,
no, not to eat man, you on dope?
a word you do not know, 'wash'
now, now don't get violent put away that cosh!
go have a bath, with the soap use wire wool,
might stop you looking dull.
if you struggle, go get your brother,
no, not me, I'm no your bro,
a few lines back, I told you so.
right now I have to git,
when I get back I'll probably find that you have shrunk.
that's if you managed to shift ten years of gunk!
In case you do, I'll bring a shovel, cos ain't that wot you do best?
shovelling pooh, ten years of mess,
and the rest!
catch yuh later,
got to go going to meet your sister!
05/17/18
8 Mile Style Poetry Contest sponsored by Nick Trim
The past like bubblegum
Stuck to your shoe
Slowing you down
When it clings like glue
Your soul spreading gunk
With every stride
That awful mess
You try so hard to hide
Take the time have a seat
Take your shoes off
Take a look at your soul
And scrape the crap off
Roll it and poke it
And check it with zeal
Then finally flick it
And see how you feel
I once knew a crazy old man Uncle Hanky P. Hunk.
He had the dirtiest house, the drabbest bunk.
I think that he was often kind of drunk.
His bedding was full of icky sticky gunk.
Once in wandered a tiny black and white skunk.
He fell on the floor with a loud heavy thunk.
Did that even wake Uncle Hanky Hunk?
No. He was asleep next to his traveling trunk.
Did you hear that thud? It was a giant clunk
I said to my sister, who was in a moody funk.
I did not, she said. But look at this awesome junk!
A treasure trove unless you find a scared little skunk
I wake up at 5:30 most mornings
Before the sun has a chance to rise
Head for the bathroom as fast as I can
To get rid of yesterday's Mai Tai
I let out a great big sigh of relief
As I wipe the gunk from my peepers
Stand in front of a full length mirror
Like Tarzan, in my trap door sleepers
I sure am ruggedly handsome, methinks
Could even grace the cover of GQ
That's if they publish a special edition
For overweight, balding yahoos
Maybe I'm being too hard on myself
I've still got a surprise up my sleeve
Like running a mile in two hours flat
Quite a feat for old guys to achieve
Now here's a lesson, so listen up good
To this fatherly advice that I share
Take care of yourself or you'll wind up
As a old guy without any hair
©Jack Ellison 2012
I wake up at 5:30 most mornings
Before the sun has a chance to rise
Head for the bathroom as fast as I can
To get rid of yesterday's Mai Tai
I let out a great big sigh of relief
As I wipe the gunk from my peepers
Stand in front of a full length mirror
Like Tarzan, in my trap door sleepers
I sure am ruggedly handsome, methinks
Could even grace the cover of GQ
That's if they publish a special edition
For overweight, balding yahoos
Maybe I'm being too hard on myself
I've still got a surprise up my sleeve
Like running a mile in two hours flat
Great feat for old guys to achieve
Here's the crux of the matter my friends
It's something I sadly must share
Try all your life to take care of yourself
You'll still wind up old with no hair
© Jack Ellison 2012
She was an aspiring starlet, a real cutie patootie
Folks were in awe of her natural beauty
She wanted to be a great Hollywood star
But she’s taken the surgery much too far
Her teeth have been fixed for a dazzling smile
They are unnaturally white now they stand out a mile
The Botox she had was to smooth her pale skin
But she can’t move a muscle much to her chagrin!
Her eyebrow lift gives her a startled expression
The desire for perfection has become an obsession!
She’s had Botox on wrinkles and fillers on lips
Liposuction drained 2 pints of gunk from her hips
In trying to obtain that perfect pink pout
Its gone terribly wrong she now looks like a trout!
Her breasts are augmented and they look quite obscene
Like over inflated footballs seen in a top shelf magazine
These two huge ‘flotation tanks’ are silicon filled
They are lumpy and hard but her boyfriend is thrilled!
But how did she pay for surgery which was so drastic...
She opened her purse and put it on the plastic!!
Date:05 11 17
Contest Name:Make me actually LOL 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Nina Parmenter
Rolling, brushing and sand with fury
Does the house look lovely?
Its gone to the jury.
Spilled five gallons on the brand new rug
Scream and holler and grab the dog
Throw him in and his paws a clatter
"Lady your dog," and his prints a spatter
Joe his twin he is a plumber
"Hope she hasn't got our number!"
Goof off,gunk off and clean the carpet
"That lady was keen but not the sharpest."
Paint with beauty and fast the pace
Just paint it , paint it , but have no fear
Does it look fine,"why you gonna live here?''
House of wonder but the yards a moat
"Mam we gave your dog a second coat."
"Base of white with spots a great sensation"
"Look at him now he's a Dalmatian"
"Grab your coats and grab your hats"
"We spilled some more better grab the cat"
PS... these are true stories of events that have occurred for my friend Duke who owns a painting business in Philadelphia that I work and worked for in the past. Some are Urban legends but some I have witnessed... Patrick
You look askance because I'm drunk
your nose a-twitch; I stink like skunk
for days I've liquid-dined
no solids only wine
happily gorged on grog and gunk
Once scrounging on the streets, homeless
I now live life in blissful bliss
of bondage I am free
on one big drinking spree
which in itself spells happiness
With jeans and watch by Armani
you, perfumed doll, though sober be
to survival shackled
securely manacled
but guess who won the lottery?
To you, Free. Sadly, our world is a judgemental one.
Have you ever heard of a heart
Once accepting of love, now coldly distant?
Once pristine, now tainted with distrust
And full of gunk inside?
Now, it's unsure of itself,
Playing it safe after being torn in half
One too many times, fearing yet another
Dose of misfortune's poison pill.
Now afraid to unlock its door
And leave it ajar for love to walk back in.
May courage be a healing knife
That doctors this poor heart
May unconditional love
Dissect it, drain its abscess,
Then, stitch it shut as a tailor
Would a split seam.
Date posted: 04/02/2016
Feeling kinda cruddy, yup, that's the word
Too many fries, too many burgs
When will I learn I can't handle that stuff
Stomach rebels, starts causing a fuss
Once could eat nails and all kinds of gunk
Now I eat mush and ground up junk
My teeth are all gone, can't chew anymore
Things go down whole, my tummy gets sore
So such is the life of this senior type dude
Head for the washroom, each time I eat food
Food disappears like famous greased lightning
Or I sit there for hours, really quite frightening
Irregularity's my name, I'm Irreg for short
Hope an operation, I don't have to resort
An artificial esophagus transplanted in me
So I can go regular like it once used to be
Oh for the days when I could eat all that junk
Those days are gone, who woulda thunk
That one day I'd be eating my morning cereal
Laced with Metamucil or some such material!
© Jack Ellison 2012
I can churn stomachs, with a stench of truth
An abscess filled with maggots, pus profuse
As I feed off gunk, new nerve ends take root
Raw language in my words, not gross abuse
Yes! I am disgust, old wounds fear my fruit
To late for contest
When we are delirious
with the delirium of sickness
we begin to ask those ?'s
what is the meaning of life?
Is there a God?
Heaven and Hell?
Is time circular, like the mandala
spherical like baby Jesus' bouncing
ball blasting the cosmos into
existence
Big Bang and Cap'n Crunch cosmic
Shiva tap dancing on the dead
midget of Self
Or:
Is it linear, like Pinocchio's nose
the dark pencil sketch
the artist shading in the gray
fog of the misty minds eye
trembling under
Red blanket
White blanket
Blue boxers
patriot of a 1,000 souls
a philosopher
who philosophizes the green gunk
upchuked from the chimneys
of our soul
contemplating truths and scripture
Lotus-leaf=a symbol of the
androgyne
before Adam, before Eve
before Steve even
before the Masculine God
patriarchal playground
Before, the Mother Goddess
with her angry menstrual cycle
and tree being birthed from her gaping maw
before the Big Bang
jizzim of the universe
there was the
androgyne
sitting in a bubble looking at Earth
Stanley Kubrick eat your heart out
2001 times
When you have this delirious
mind, when the flu of Benicia
the hydra with a thousand
Double Rainbow flavors
gets the best of you
of your immune system
hear the ringing of the bell as
they box for your painful
enjoyment
Remember these moments of deep contemplation
and pause like
The Buddha under Bodhi
Moses on Sinai
Jesus in Gethsemane
Muhammad on Hira
Remember to smile