Best Lysol Poems
A chambermaid whose name is Marlia
Had the most terrible diarrhoea
Whilst scrubbing a loo
She needed to pooh
Poop flowed freely from her posterior
It splattered on the newly scrubbed door
Gloopy poop was all over the floor
There was a huge mess
It covered her dress
Her poor tummy was ever so sore
WRITTEN BY JAN ALLISON
Marlia was filled with sorrow
A clean dress she had to borrow
flies were attracted
The mess compacted
clean up required a harrow!
WRITTEN BY LIM'RIK FLATS
If only she'd have taken a Tums
No mess would be left on her bums
she's still in despair
a stench in the air
To the scent of poop she succumbs
WRITTEN BY TIM SMITH
Marlia was dumb, thinking it was just gas
But it was much more that she had to pass
The day was torrid
Her stench was horrid
Now everyone knows Marlia has no class
WRITTEN BY LIN LANE
Marlia tried hard to sneak out
the trail of her poop left no doubt
Lysol was sprayed,
Her funk still stayed
cause her poop kept running out
WRITTEN BY DANIEL TURNER
Poor, poor Marlia stunk up the room
Her hubby left and she has no groom
He ran for the hills
No more night thrills,
Now she's alone and her life is doom
WRITTEN BY ALEXIS Y
21-07-17
Categories:
lysol, body, humorous, irony, jobs,
Form:
Limerick
Recently, my ears have heard
Some news that sounds quite absurd
My eyes can’t believe what they have seen
Is this for real, an outright global panic
Regarding the Coronavirus COVID 19
An epidemic that has turned pandemic
Has it been proved to be certain
That this is not a world government gimmick
I may be in serious denial when it
Comes to this coronavirus microbe
But it’s only because this is my worse nightmare
I am such an enormous compulsive germaphobe
Can’t even engage in my usual weekend shoppin’
Friends messaging all early saying, you better get to coppin’
But why rush, it’s my day off I’m home chillin’
Listening to my music cleanin’ and rockin’
They type back in all caps, EVERYTHING'S GOING FAST
I get to the store and of course it was too late
All the water and toilet paper scarce
In such a remarkably short time span
At least they still have disinfectant
Wait, why is Human Coronavirus
Listed on the Lysol can
Well, well, what do you know, it has began
Definitely have to stock up on some gloves and a mask
And if I’m going be under some kind of lockdown
Do I dare google where to buy a wine cask
Possibility of containment, no bueno
Too think, people been trying to warn us for years
I’m so mad I ignored the signs
Remained knowledgeable but yet comatose
I never thought I would live to see
The day where the world gets attacked by Thanos
Drink your herbal teas and keep up your immunity
You might want to also grab a zinc dose
I would hate for me or you to get a positive
Coronavirus COVID 19 diagnose
Categories:
lysol, humorous, stress, world,
Form:
Rhyme
Not-So-Heroic Couplets
by Donald Trump
care of Michael R. Burch
To outfox the pox:
kill yourself first, with Clorox!
And since death is the goal,
mainline Lysol!
No vaccine?
Just chug Mr. Clean!
Is a cure out of reach?
Fumigate your lungs, with bleach!
To immunize your thorax,
destroy it with Borax!
To immunize your bride,
drown her in Opti-cide!
To end all future gridlocks,
gargle with Vaprox!
Now, quick, down the Drain-o
with old Insane-o NoBrain-o!
Trump’s real goals are obvious
and yet millions of Americans remain oblivious.
—Michael R. Burch
Less Heroic Couplets: Just Desserts
by Michael R. Burch
“The West Antarctic ice sheet
might not need a huge nudge
to budge.”
And if it does budge,
denialist fudge
may force us to trudge
neck-deep in sludge!
NOTE: The first stanza is a quote by paleoclimatologist Jeremy Shakun in Science magazine.
Less Heroic Couplets: Miss Bliss
by Michael R. Burch
Domestic “bliss”?
Best to swing and miss!
Less Heroic Couplets: Then and Now
by Michael R. Burch
BEFORE: Thanks to Brexit, our lives will be plush! ...
AFTER: Crap, we’re going broke! What the hell is the rush?
Less Heroic Couplets: Dear Pleader
by Michael R. Burch
Is our Dear Pleader, as he claims, heroic?
I prefer my presidents a bit more stoic.
Less Heroic Couplets: Less than Impressed
by Michael R. Burch
for T. M., regarding certain dispensers of lukewarm air
Their volume’s impressive, it’s true ...
but somehow it all seems “much ado.”
Less Heroic Couplets: Poetry I
by Michael R. Burch
Poetry is the heart’s caged rhythm,
the soul’s frantic tappings at the panes of mortality.
Less Heroic Couplets: Poetry II
by Michael R. Burch
Poetry is the trapped soul’s frantic tappings
at the panes of mortality.
Less Heroic Couplets: Seesaw
by Michael R. Burch
A poem is the mind teetering between fact and fiction,
momentarily elevated.
Less Heroic Couplets: Passions
by Michael R. Burch
Passions are the heart’s qualms,
the soul’s squalls, the brain’s storms.
Keywords/Tags: Donald Trump, coronavirus, president, poet, poems, poetry, heroic couplets, couplet, humor, humorous, Clorox, Lysol, disinfectants, light verse, parody, satire, America, USA, giggle, political, natural disasters
Categories:
lysol, america, giggle, humor, humorous,
Form:
Heroic Couplet
American healthcare is a joke
Government play on too many folk
Those who can't pay
Die everyday
Whilst Trump switches from Lysol to Coke
Categories:
lysol, health,
Form:
Limerick
Two hands in folds of shoddy cotton,
in clouds of cheap champagne and cigarette smoke.
My ringing ears
Echoing the television murmurs,
but it’s the same news on a broken record,
broken record horrors.
Now the clock— It’s snickering, a thief, consuming time and stealing
the 217 kisses, the 32 chocolate milkshakes shared
in his old Porsche,
the 3 ice creams in December and the 12 shivers that followed,
the 56 morning coffees,
the 12 months of moon cycles—
I counted them one by one, refusing to let time
pass
him
by.
I remember with him
the 314 soft embraces, the 17 drops of brandy
that dripped down our chins, the 39 words
yelled then regretted, the 3 meteor showers
he slept through.
Waiting room. I try to peel the hospital scent from his skin,
but it’s a lonely phantom refusing to depart.
The summer cologne lingers its dollar’s worth on his scalp,
quickly fading, masked by Lysol, white walls, sickness.
Feverish. He closes his eyes, heart monitor beeping to a constant,
the peaks on a swift descent.
Because as time chews away
the 3 teeth bumps, the 14 letters,
19 skin tracings, 2 chalk outlines,
the 3-syllable, 8-letter words,
and the 100 times
I confirmed reality
(as he cried, in vain,
for release),
I’m forgetting already
the smell of his hair, the precise pores
and number of freckles on his cheeks.
Now. I turn car key, start engine, breathe broken- record breaths.
I’ll pretend it’s all a formula I’m confirming,
because Fate never meant us to be.
I am discovering truths:
we’re just awkward children in this adult world,
aware of waning time, unprepared, longing for youth.
His Gods have plugged us both in like variables,
and we’re no longer oblivious to the outcome,
because I’ll wrestle with Love, plead with Death,
beg and bargain with Time,
and still,
I’ll drive on.
Categories:
lysol, lovelonging, time,
Form:
Free verse
The whole world is laughing at Trump
Whose thoughts seem to come from his rump
Disinfectant swill
Gave the world a chill
But clearly proved Trump is a chump!
Categories:
lysol, health,
Form:
Limerick
You are told there is no pandemic.
You are told it’s all a hoax.
You are told it’s a deep state conspiracy.
Three thousand deaths here,
three thousand deaths there,
pretty soon you’re talking about real people.
And then you learn it will end in two weeks.
And then you learn testing is available for anyone.
And then you learn there’s enough ventilators and masks.
Five thousand deaths here,
five thousand deaths there,
pretty soon you’re talking about real people.
But you are assured it will be over by Memorial Day.
But you are assured that hydroxychloroquine is the magic elixir.
But you are assured the states can all reopen.
Ten thousand deaths here,
ten thousand deaths there,
pretty soon you’re talking about real people.
Surely you believe it will be over by summer.
Surely you believe drinking Lysol is the cure.
Surely you believe there will be no second wave.
Fifty thousand deaths here,
fifty thousand deaths there,
pretty soon you’re talking about real people.
Now you know all the health rules go too far.
Now you know about the government plot.
Now you cheer on the Neo-Nazi protestors.
One hundred thousand deaths here,
one hundred thousand deaths there,
pretty soon you’re talking about real people.
Intertwined in survival,
no one is an island, John Donne observed.
Do not ask for whom the death tolls.
It tolls for you.
Published: Dissident Voice, July 26,2020
Categories:
lysol, allusion, america, death, funeral,
Form:
Political Verse
My bathroom isn’t big enough
For boxes filled with files,
Though someone’s bathroom we all know
Has cartons stacked in piles.
The government’s top secrets
Share a space, perhaps, with Charmin,
Or Renuzit, Dove or Lysol,
All incredibly alarmin.’
For the guests at Mar-a-Largo,
If a bathroom they were needing,
We must hope they didn’t poke around
In search of some light reading.
Categories:
lysol, political,
Form:
Rhyme
I was a little girl with a tattered ragdoll,
and I lived in an attic that was not tall;
in fact, there were parts where I had to crawl.
I liked to play make-believe till nightfall,
and write- so I wrote on the wall;
listening to dreamy gentle rainfall . . .
and on that wall, oh yes, I did scrawl.
Then in the morning I heard Mom call,
she beheld my wall writing in great appall;
oh yes indeed, it was my curtain-call . . .
Mom left and returned with a can of spray Lysol.
I want you to clean it and I mean all,
and went away muttering- I was a bit oddball;
so I cleaned it and then lay on my bed, I recall
crying and holding my tattered doll.
____________________
February 8, 2017
Poetry/Rhyme/A Bit "Oddball"
Copyright Protected, ID 17-873-515-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Categories:
lysol, child, poverty, sad, writing,
Form:
Rhyme
Please Officer, Mr. Clean is not like that,
though will admit that we had a little spat.
I used Pine Sol, and he wasn’t really happy,
but assure you that it never made him slappy.
Little Joy was there and Dawn saw it all,
I swear I never used any of the old Lysol,
Brillo in my hand and dab of OxiClean,
I’ll admit that once I turned to Mr. Sheen.
Okay, all right! I’ve cheated other times,
it is hard to write all these dirty rhymes,
I loved Borax and was a real big fan,
Did ménage a tois with spicy Spic & Span,
Slept with Comet, but he wasn’t really bright,
that didn’t help when we got into this fight,
and know that once I really made him boil,
when he found out about Mr. Murphy’s Oil.
But it's such a mess and I needed extra lift,
it never should have been such a kitchen tiff,
news of my betrayal really made him stammer,
When he heard of Ajax, brought Arm & Hammer,
But love him so, locking him up is not my wish,
and don’t want to be left with only this Vanish.
Categories:
lysol, silly,
Form:
Rhyme
Began so promising
As thoughts of a new year approached
Some called it a year of new beginnings and clarity
That 20/20 vision of sorts
Unknown and foreign
You found your origins in a faraway land
Yet soon enough, you would break the barriers of
Race, class, religion, and international borders
YEAH! You’re indiscriminate
Lock down, shut down and shortages
A daily struggle we endured
The knowledge of your existence, coupled with fear
Put the world on notice that we were in control of NOTHING
You wrestled even the healthiest to their breaking point
Them now depending on machines to inhale and exhale
You took the weakest and oldest, showing no mercy
Masks, gloves, tissue, sanitizer; even Lysol and Clorox
Became luxury items
Almost two years later
Vaccinations, side effects and still, MASKS
Are a daily reminder that
Covid made it’s way to every point of the world
And still; we are in control of NOTHING
December 30, 2021
Contest: Coronavirus (COVID-19) Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Robert James Liquori
Categories:
lysol, confusion, fear, sick,
Form:
Free verse
Young Jesi Naomi channeling Trish Roland
incarnate professedly. Hour: you dead now?
Tuba bongo blues like a freight train serenade
in the American night. You slammed life against
the wall, slammed it. Drank it down
with booze stained splinters and mop handle blues.
Guitar licks and microphone screams,
taste like swill and Lysol. If nausea
Permeates your pours, belt it out
From the reaches of your bosom. You
Never played the possum.
I can’t wait for summer or autumn.
Winter though
Categories:
lysol, age, art, beauty, community,
Form:
Free verse
Sorry, mom says I can’t
kiss you - even with grape,
Lysol, safety lipstick =/
Harsh pandemic facts
and parents stand against us.
What a hazardous waste!
Categories:
lysol, 11th grade, angst, humor,
Form:
Senryu
V.I.R.U.S.
Very Infectious Radically Unifying Sickness
Ahh the disease of the sneeze
The spread of the dread
The fear of being near
Cough, cough and a ha choo
Go away you sick one you
How dare you not cover when you sneeze
I’m armed with Lysol and aim to Febreze
Don’t foul the air we all breathe
Bury your face in your sleeve
Personally, it’s my pet peeve
Looking for a common sense reprieve
If your sick don’t bring it to us just leave
So, wash your dirty paws
And do your part for the cause
Follow community laws
And for a moment take a pause
And think of more than yourself
Easy to do I believe
Take some time for those we lost and, grieve
Eric (and sometimes not)
Categories:
lysol, community, culture, international, philosophy,
Form:
Free verse
My husband tried to kill the germs
That lurk within our space.
He bought a spray-top Lysol and
He spritzed around the place.
Now germs are rather clever things –
Invisible and sly;
You never know exactly where
Their tiny bodies lie.
They like to float up in the air
And cling to walls and sinks.
I have no faith a spray will work,
Despite what Lysol thinks.
The label shouts out loud and clear
That ninety-nine percent
Of virus and bacteria
Will leave – that’s the intent.
But what about the germs that hide,
Avoiding all that mist?
And yes, there is that one percent
That’s likely to resist.
There’s really not much you can do
When germs invade your nest –
Drink fluids, wash your hands and yes –
Get lots and lots of rest.
As far as Lysol, what the heck,
It doesn’t hurt to spray.
Perhaps it will convince some germs
It’s time they went away.
Categories:
lysol, health,
Form:
Rhyme