Best Laxative Poems
It was my first Thanksgiving dinner as his wife
so I wanted the meal to be perfect in every way
But...trembling in fear, I cut my finger with a knife
It was the beginning of a day in piteous disarray
I didn't know a turkey would take so long to thaw
and I couldn't defrost the fat bird in the microwave
Agitated, I was afraid I'd have to serve it half raw
so, I parboiled it a while. My predicament was grave
The cranberries were cooking and started to pop
Then I noticed my sore finger was bleeding once more
Blood fell into the sauce pan; more than just a drop
Gotta serve it anyway. No time to go back to the store
My mother-in-law, Mary Ann, had a smirk on her face
She looks like a wild rabbit, both have wrinkled noses
I bedecked the table in my cloth of embroidered lace
finger bleeding again from thorns, darn those roses!
It's a Murphy's Law day for me cuz I've developed a tic
Face is twitching, but the turkey's roasting in the oven
People bustling in my kitchen. It's a comedy of slapstick
Cousin Benny wants a taste of my cornbread stuffin'
STUFFIN'? NO NO! I hadn't given the dish a thought
Could I make it from potatoes? I've got piles of those
I needed a drink; my frazzled nerves were distraught
Then sozzled Uncle Frank started taking off his clothes
We filled our plates as hubby, Jake, carved the bird
I gasped when I saw a bag of something on the platter
Mary Ann shrieked in laughter and shouted, "My word!!"
I had no clue it was in there. I became the Mad Hatter.
To the kitchen I retreated to ready the apple crumble
A laxative added to Mary Ann's to give her the poops
After dinner she dashed and crashed in a nasty tumble
I smiled with satisfaction and simply exclaimed, "OOPS."
Categories:
laxative, humor,
Form:
Rhyme
When you pack my luggage but won't pack my lunch
When you lock me out I get a hunch
When you put thumb tacks on the bathroom floor
I get the feeling you don't love me no more
I found hair remover in my can of Rogaine
The nail in my car seat caused me so much pain
When you microwave my favorite CD
I get the feeling you don't care for me
When you toss a salad but it's at my head
When you squeeze my neck until my face turns red
Then keep on squeezing until the red turns blue
I get the feeling that you think we're through
When you let the dog shred my brand new shoes
When you put a laxative in my jar of booze
When you say your nightmare began the day we met
I get the feeling that you are upset
When you cut off the arms on my overcoat
And try to put a rope around my throat
Then mix Ben Gay with my jock itch cream
I get the feeling you like to see me scream
When you lean an axe against the bedroom wall
And start putting needles in a voodoo doll
Then pull a knife and say come on let's play
I get the feeling I should go away
Categories:
laxative, funny, me, me,
Form:
Rhyme
Fun With Puns*
A shepherd and his sheep once took
A shortcut across a frozen brook
The owner charged a very high price
For pulling the wool over his ice
I didn't know if I were a wigwam or tepee
So I was really depressed and sort of weepy
Then a psychiatrist with very good sense
Explained I was just a couple of tents
Benny was rescued from a terrible place
And lived out his life in a silver vase
Thus he was a guy who finally learned
That a Benny saved is a Benny urned
A man bought an expensive new car
And stopped for some drinks at a local bar
Soon after he picked up some of his friends
Who quickly learned how a Mercedes Benz
Snow White felt weak and unsteady
When her photographs weren’t ready
She chewed on some gum and felt less glum
Certain someday soon her prints would come
Palm fronds are very relaxative
Swallow them; they’re a very good laxative
They won’t hurt you; they’re not venomous
So, with fronds like those, who needs enemas
It would be nice to have four more puns
Because a total of ten would be fun
Maybe one of them upon humor depended
Or it's very possible that no pun in ten did
*Of course, I would have given credit to the authors of these puns, but they are unknown.
Categories:
laxative, fun, humor, word play,
Form:
Rhyme
I’ve not written to you for many years
Santa, I’m quite different from my peers
Not fancy or frilly like girly girls
And I don’t hanker for diamonds and pearls
Today I got the most terrible news
My muse abandoned me. She's on a cruise!!!
She’ll be sailing around the world for years
I'm bereft and can’t stem my salty tears
Oh Santa dear, please take pity on me
I need a skilled muse to write poetry
I’m heartbroken without her by my side
Could you bring one to me on this Yuletide
It would be the most perfect Christmas gift
Please tell me that this year I won't get stiffed!
~ ~ ~ ~
You may not have my name at this address
But Santa, it’s time for me to confess
I've been on your naughty list all this year
I'm the one who put Ex Lax in your beer
And I thought while you were stuck in my loo
I'd try to tempt you in my basque of blue
But you clutched your tummy. You looked quite sick
With loo roll in hand, you ran out so quick
You chastised me as you dribbled brown gloop
Said you’d seen my name at Poetry Soup!
You'd read my poems and you wouldn't be hard
With my dire style, I’m no threat to the Bard
Last Christmas was such a catastrophe
I apologise, will you forgive me?
~ ~ ~ ~
I’ve divulged to all how I’ve misbehaved
and beg the laxative mishap be waived
(You’ve not visited since I was a child
when my behaviour ran totally wild!)
I’ve taken my punishment on the chin
Bitter medicine swallowed for my sin
If you can find forgiveness in your heart
I will try my best to make a fresh start
Santa, please deliver just one present...
A new muse would make my life more pleasant
My old one left and she might not return
My pen is poised; for witty words I yearn
A contest win with Phillip Garcia
Would rekindle my poetic career!
From My Lips To Santa's Ears Contest
Sponsored by Phillip Garcia
10 syllables per line checked with How many Syllables
12-05-17
Categories:
laxative, anxiety, christmas, humorous, muse,
Form:
Sonnet
(Misery's Ghost)
Dreaming with my eyes wide open
Ultra Death sits by the bedside
On your knees, you are crying!
Along the floor, now you are dying!
Swallowing the pain inside, demanding for the reaper himself
If you want to see dead people
This GHOST will bring you face to face with the luminance
Once you cross over, you're in absolute fright
Lost in a desire to see the spirit world,
Drowning to be a part of it
!!! .
Can you hear that low bubbling noise rising up from within?
Wait, wait that is, he or she…. *The dead*
No... You are still gurgling of your stomach, is it?
This hunger is not indigestion, it is Mount KILLomen about to blow
The Ghost Effect enters the soul, in pieces after the first glow
A 'Ghost so potent enough, it will wipe you off the face of the earth
Like a trace, every fragment of this Ghost is a killer
If you are kindling it, you might not live to tell
Find a way to exercise it with extreme caution
When ‘The Ghost’ is around
There is no going back, once you have experienced it
You’ll never encounter a way to fight off this evil intrusion!
After you've lived, the ghost will haunt 'long after the soul is gone
First, the sensation that you're buried alive,
Then the frightening phenomena feeling begins
The ghoul is trapped and clawing its way to the surface
Savor the evening with pain until they come to claim what is left
Living loud, with a tortured soul
Having inherited- SATAN'S BLOOD
This Ghost has a forked tongue
Misery made everyone believe that he was just another ghost
Until you see, ‘The Ghost’ and what he or she has done?
Experiencing how it makes the blood boil like a thousand fiery lashes
Falling from, Satan's whip, only hope can escape his snare
Wishing for a Laxative
To flush the insanity, that haunts through the years
Calling this The End…………
By: P and The Ghost-CoWriter
Categories:
laxative, abuse, death, fear,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
Battle Rap With Brenda Chiri
Brenda Chiri don't try me
It's not old and told,
same gun, bullets roll,
pull it hole
strolling rhymes,
quick time,
literally laying these words at pace
while you take out a pen and paper
jotting down like a waiter,
rhymes to cater
couldn't be straighter,
down the line
the same constant whine
from the kind drinking wine,
out the bottle not the glass,
you aint got the throttle or the class
to spas alongside my asss,
I'll set you a task
watch you finish last,
dragging your handbag to bits,
alongside your sandbag tets,
I can do the splits and backflips,
you have splits in your hips,
see me now, I plough like magic,
your comebacks are plastic
made with fake fabric,
with laxative patches
you're like Bush giving a speech,
five letter words beyond your vocal reach,
needing a teacher like a freak,
I fight on the beaches,
I'll fight you and all your beaches,
egging you on,
like Brenda you strong
but your words make me mong,
so until next time for now I say to you so long.
Categories:
laxative, funny, giggle, hip hop,
Form:
Rhyme
Imagine, a limerick from Jack with no smut
Maybe there's one stuck up his butt
Don't know for sure
D'ya think there's a cure
Like a laxative meant for when limericks get stuck
© Jack Ellison 2015
Categories:
laxative, humorous,
Form:
Limerick
Part I: Wife to Husband
You never pay me any mind.
I'm sick of this. You hear me?
If you don't find me interesting,
perhaps you'd better fear me.
The "choc'late" in that cake you ate
Is laxative, I swear it!
So please don't take the rest to work.
Someone might want to share it.
I plan to see my boyfriends soon.
We always have such fun.
We're gonna have a good old time,
so soon I've got to run.
Your boss asked when you're coming in.
I told him you said "Never."
I plan to have your brakelines cut,
so take the bus forever.
I've emptied all the bank accounts,
So please don't write a check.
I've boobytrapped the yard; I hope
You fall and break your neck.
Hey, you! Look up. Acknowledge me,
You blank-eyed, drooling jerk!
Part 2: Oblivious Husband's Response
I'm really late. Just coffee, dear.
I've got to get to work.
May 28, 2016
for Poet Destroyer A's "Desperate Housewife" Contest
Categories:
laxative, husband, marriage, wife,
Form:
Quatrain
There are times when the body
is as numinous as words – Robert Hass
Others, however, when it declares forcefully
its sheer bodiness;
your stomach tightens the waistband
of jeans you bought just last month
in the style of a ‘boyfriend’ you don’t have,
and no jumper’s baggy enough.
Physicality forces outwards, running.
Hills are the quickest route to redemption.
You recall Gethsemane as muscles flame,
fuelled by guilty glycogen from last night’s binge.
The world contracts corporeally.
Each stride increases the laxative effect
of emotions you don’t pretend to understand.
And yet there’s no catharsis
and escape from the self is absurd.
It’s the process of translation,
ritual purging through corporeal philosophy,
pounding the Will with rhythmic strides.
Forget those cloud-dwelling thinkers,
living in dualist minds of ascetic detachment.
Ask any runner: there is no destination.
It’s the shift, the constant becoming.
We’re all just atoms and stardust.
Categories:
laxative, body, emotions, identity, loneliness,
Form:
Free verse
i havent written anything in ages,i sit inspirationless pen hovering above blank pages
my creative juices have evaporated,i'm mentally constipated, thoughts stagnated trapped in a room thats locked and gated.My minds a black hole in which ideas evolve
but getting them out's an enigma stephen hawking could'nt solve.i'll hire an imaginary crop sprayer and take off on a sortee i'll spray my brain with laxative and wd40.But it could be too much and i'll realise my fears my brain will be crushed under a deluge of ideas,i'll go to the doctor and ask for a lotion ''sure rub some of this on your head son,it's called thousand notion potion''.my brain is like a boiler thats about to blow'i need a tiny plumber,with a tiny wrench to release it very slow,but if it breaks off too quickly,no refuge can be sought he can ski to safety on an avalanche of ideas a thinking mans olympic sport.If all my efforts fail at cerebral extrusion,then sad as it is i'm left with only one conclusion,i'll hang up my quill and pay the tiny plumbers extortionate bill.As sure as a boxer who loses his arms is no longer a fighter a poet who does not use his pen is no longer a writer
Categories:
laxative, anxiety,
Form:
Rhyme
“Oh Dear, what can the matter be?”
Gramps screamed while on his fourth mad dash.
The bathroom seemed a mile away!
Was it the stew or corned beef hash?
He never takes the time to read
ingredients and warnings on
the packages of treats. He MUST
or it will surely never dawn
on him those tasty sugar-free
desserts can have a laxative
effect on some. Apparently,
he’s one of them. He’s doomed to live
with bowels that flow frequently
unless he wises up. He’ll spend
a fortune on air fresheners,
soft bathroom tissue, and Depends!
January, 2018, entered in the Oh Dear, What Can the Matter Be?
Contest--didn't place, didn't receive honorable mention
March 13, 2018, entered in Line Gautier's Stunner January 2018 Contest
Categories:
laxative, food, humor,
Form:
Rhyme
My neighbor, Pete, is very frustrated
For two weeks he has been constipated
Then, in Poetry Soup
I heard him yell, "Whoop Whoop!"
His laxative had been activated!
He eats spicy food and lot of legumes
Where he shows up, a gaseous cloud looms
Pete is kinda kinky
When he makes a stinky
He likes breathing in his odorous fumes
Beth's twenty years married to Pete Cooper
When he didn't flush, she said a blooper
Pete left a huge floater
And now I will quote her,
"Pete's poops always leave me in a stupor!"
One time dumbass Pete clogged up his commode
After his bowels dropped a giant load
Beth called in a plumber
Who was even dumber
He just watched as the toilet overflowed
Pete's a n a l gases continue to leak
Can't stand being around them cause they reek
When his farts are expelled
I threaten a butt weld
To solder it shut, Pete is such a freak!
No one sits near Pete at the town meeting
No friendly smiles does he get in greeting
People are of like mind
Beware of his behind
When his flatulence keeps on repeating
Beth's face becomes twisted into a scowl
She told Pete that she's throwing him the towel
Next time his fecal matter
Is 'neath the lid in splatter
She'll not clean his crap stains again. They're foul!
She won't wash skid marks from his briefs either
Nor cook bean casseroles for him neither
Beth's taken a firm stand
Gave Pete a reprimand
She's hoping that soon he'll want to leave her
Categories:
laxative, humor,
Form:
Limerick
"Me, I'm dishonest, and you can always trust a dishonest man to be dishonest. Honestly, it's the honest ones you have to watch out for."
"Nobody texts faster than A pissed off female".
"A jealous woman can do better research than the FBI"
"Trust is like a mirror, you can fix it if it's broken, but you can still see the crack in that mother sucker's reflection."
"Imperfection is beauty, madness is genius and it's better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring"
"Some people just suck the life right out of you".
"Me mature? Ha! I still laugh when the ketchup bottle farts."
"A fart is simply a turd honking to pass".
"My goal today, is to move only enough to let people know I'm not dead."
"Everything that used to be a sin is now a disease".
"Never, under any circumstances, take a sleeping pill and a laxative on the same night."
"Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you’re wrong."
"I dream of a better tomorrow, where chickens can cross the road and not be questioned about their motives"
Categories:
laxative, humorous,
Form:
Free verse
First a twinkle in her daddy’s eye
Hypnotized
By the rhythm of her hips
Momma’s hips
Gripping, tugging, releasing him
Encouraging the venom
Pulsating, quaking:
The laxative
Voyaging through the passages
Welcome to the world
A brand new baby girl!
Simple mind under the curls
Just sucks on her bo-bo
She speaks her first words
And then before you know
She’s preparing for her classes
The sequel to her passage
Graduation day
For this bright young female
A glory to her story
Tears of joy from received hail
Onto the next chapter
Because it’s feat that she’s after
Enlisted to manage ravage
The Atlantic is her passage
Presented to the tasks
Of a female soldier
Doesn’t think
Solely follow’s her superior’s orders
Was assigned to convoy duty
When she and her platoon were blasted
A tragedy
A disaster
A catalyst in her final passage
I'd love to hear Common recite this rap
Categories:
laxative, adventure, daughter, people, song-
Form:
Rhyme
Hear ye the testimony of my worth as a Dandelion:
Since I belong to a family of flowering plants
I’m a marvelous creation* of the Supreme Designer
With a blessed role not only to beautify nature
But also to glorify my Creator with my beneficial wonders.
Though recognized as the quintessential garden and lawn weed
I can boast of my high nutritional value, attested by research facts…
Greatly edible, tasty am I both raw and cooked
From the roots to the blossoms: as steamed, breaded, and fried;
I’m even used to make wine or as a coffee substitute.
Being a multipurpose herb, all my parts are useful…
I’m revered for my traditional medicinal properties
For centuries, I treated a myriad of physical ailments
With my diuretic and laxative strength of potassium content
Including being a liver tonic and an effective wart remover.
Beholding me midst my yellow color, you can feel heat’s radiance
Since I symbolize the sun and its power
Representing happy unions, resilience and re-birth…
With my name’s meaning as “the official remedy for disorders”
I, Dandelion, yield to God for me to praise Him in doing His will.
*Psalm 98:1 O sing unto the LORD a new song; for he hath done marvellous things: his right hand, and his holy arm, hath gotten him the victory.
April 6, 2019
3rd place, "DANDELIONS" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Line Gauthier; judged on 4/17/2019.
Edited on September 1, 2025
3rd place, "Let The Flowers Grow Again" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Mystic Rose Rose; judged on 9/2/2025
Categories:
laxative, appreciation, blessing, flower, god,
Form:
Personification