Best Odiferous Poems
Charlie, my garbage guy, has an odiferous job to say the very least,
Tossing garbage into the maw of his truck, that roaring, ravenous beast!
But Charlie has been on the job for years and doesn't seem to care.
He goes about his job each Tuesday morn with unassuming flair!
Charlie is about six foot eight, 300 pounds and a tad broad in the beam,
But he's in such great shape that he could play for any NFL football team.
He empties the garbage cans on to his truck with practiced expertise,
And 'tis obvious he follows his company's motto, 'WE AIM TO PLEASE!"
Here's to Charlie and all his peers who see to the disposal of our debris!
Somebody has to do it and they have my thanks but it ain't my cup o' tea!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
Categories:
odiferous, humorous, work,
Form:
Ode
Threading Hunger’s Needle
by Odin Roark
Acumen's voice smolders quietly
When deafened ears respond only
To discords of witlessness.
Perception's heat invites comfort,
Its embers remaining alive,
Its wake of constant resolve
Lifts vigils of swirling persuasion,
Choking away illiteracy,
Ignoring cross or sickle waved ominously.
Ever present, creation’s insight
Remaining airborne in a void for those
With causeless breath being held,
Affecting not its surroundings,
Forever stale within ether locked,
Where roiling chasms of fear
Exude odiferous spoilage,
Rotting,
Polluting,
Repelling.
Such misery holds steady,
Amidst the multitudes’ repeated indulgences of flesh,
Where masses’ quintessential reptilian skin
long overdue for shedding
remain stagnant.
But cling it will,
This resistance to reflection and growth,
Feeling falsely safe in unknowing
The rewards of philological pondering,
Literature’s sign and verbal,
Touch and smell,
Eye and ear,
An all-sensitive motion
Making ready transference from literal
To one’s personal ethereal possession.
For some…
A chosen distance remains preferred.
A huddled observation from
Deep in the abyss of ignorance,
Convinced personal importance is to perish alone
Amidst a cacophony of unresolved noise.
Always close by, however…
Wisdom’s whisper continues to nurture hunger’s tenacity,
Knowing a needle unthreaded is of little use.
Categories:
odiferous, wisdom, , literature,
Form:
Free verse
I’ve been sitting here so long,
My butts getting numb,
So I jump right up
And stick out my thumb.
He comes rolling down the street,
With the only smell of mention,
The noxious fumes; olfactory tension.
Now I’m not trying to make excuses.
But I Really needed to get to,
Lower Catoosas.
This dude with odiferous outlet
Was a goin’ my way.
If you think that was dumb,
Just listen to this:
It was a super-charged Edsel
With slicks on the rear,
It had the characteristic stench of,
Cheap, stinkin’ beer.
When I jumped in the car
He shot me the Bird,
And laid on me
These immortal words,
“Far in man…
Like what’s going off?”
I was stunned awhile
Had to catch my breath,
He looked at me with
A grin like death.
The smell was real,
The driver was not.
Like a bobble-head doll
On the dash installed.
I regained my feet,
Away from the freak,
“Thanks, but I’d rather walk”.
Categories:
odiferous, crazy, culture, destiny, humorous,
Form:
Free verse
Hunger's Needle
Acumen's voice smolders quietly
when deafened ears respond only
to discords of witlessness
Wisdom's heat invites comfort
its embers remain alive
its wake of constant resolve
lifts vigils of swirling persuasion
choking away illiteracy
ignoring cross or sickle waved ominously
Ever present
Creation's insight
remaining airborne in a void for those
with causeless breath being held
affecting not its surroundings
forever stale ether locked
roiling chasms of fear
exuding odiferous spoilage
rotting
polluting
repelling
Such misery holds steady
among repeated indulgences of flesh
the masses' quintessential reptilian skin
long overdue for shedding
But cling it must
this resistance to reflection and growth
feeling safe in unknowing
the rewards of philological pondering
Sign and verbal
touch and smell
eye and ear
an all-sensitive motion
making ready transference from literal
to ethereal possession
For some
a chosen distance is preferred
a huddled observation from
deep in the abyss of ignorance
self-importance perishing alone
amidst a cacophony of unresolved noise
while wisdom's whisper
continues to thread hunger's needle
Categories:
odiferous, philosophy,
Form:
Free verse
IT SEEMS NATURE HAD OTHER PLANS
Our plan was to take a morning walk along the beach..as plans go it was a simple one…and once we arrived we headed south and east…toward the rising sun.
But a short time after arriving we soon became aware of what can only be described as an odiferous odor…wafting through the air.
We thought it might be red tide so…and since we hand’t walked too far…
dejectedly we turned around for the walk back to our car.
But then…for reasons we’ll never know…we felt almost immediately blessed…
because the odor quickly dissipated as we walked to the north and west.
We’ve walked this beach for many years…we didn’t think it held surprises anymore…but that morning we were treated to wonders we hadn’t seen or heard before.
The high tide had come and gone…we could see how far up the shore she reached…but what truly took us by surprise was, in her wake, what she left painted on the beach
Sea urchins, crabs, a sand dollar…a starfish…we wondered how can this be?
Shells in a multitude of shapes and colors as far as our eyes could see.
And we were not the only ones enjoying the tides early morning surprise…
there were snails, clams, oysters and crabs trying new shells on for size.
And if we weren’t feeling blessed enough seeing the sights as the ocean ebbed and flowed…out in water dolphins…pods of dolphins…began putting on a show.
They were swimming, jumping partying all the time while being fed…
They even had time to smile at the pelicans skimming above their heads.
Here’s an interesting fact…that might seem a little odd…
but a group of pelicans and a group of dolphins…they’re both called a pod.
Yes, walking to the north and west we were treated to a host of new and different sights and sounds….
And we realized if we wanted to catch the sunrise…all we had to do was turn around.
Our plan was to walk in the direction we alway walked…along the beach in the early morning that day…
But often we have found…the treasures that abound…when we let nature lead the way.
Categories:
odiferous, nature,
Form:
Rhyme
We begin at the beginning: a clove of garlic, too hard-headed
for its own good, combined with two large onions, their first denuding
revealing fallow gold: the second layer, a pale green puberty,
then, the heartless blade of the knife slices into the virginal white
purity of a cumulus cloud, which the shape-shifter processor
reduces to odiferous pearly drifts, destined tor the fry pan's
oil of olive from sunny Southern hillsides. This bounty blends
with the underpraised, but indispensable tomato, staple
in the kitchens of Italy and Spain, then Crimini mushrooms,
sliced within an inch of their lives and browned in a skillet to bring
odor of earthiness to this angelic mix. Six buttery ovals
afloat in their embryonic bath offer elixir of egg to the whir
of the beaters. With infusion of feta, and one of mozzarella, it
marries with the mushrooms, and in lieu of vestal virgins, lies down
with the pasta. We go now to oven. Heat does its homage, then
with souls of the missing, we come to table, a chair placed
for Neil: napkin, plate, and fork, until he welcomes us
Home. Hosts us once more.
for Neil Irvin Gray, 1918-2014
Categories:
odiferous, absence, bereavement,
Form:
Blank verse
Welcome
The time around filled with juvenility
The season solaced by the aura of odiferous
The world primed with unity
The love lived over by the essence of glorious.
Dream
A life lived on top of the world
A garden sated by the aroma of flowers
A nation saluted with laud
A peace blessed by the solemnity of prayers.
Blend
With the music that dance with your soul
With the rain melded by the rays, rainbow
With the life soothed along pride
With the macrocosm by the end of brow.
Pray
For the day, a prayer unspoken for live out
For the clouds silvery cottoned by autumn newbie
For the hapless longing for a day out
For the solitude by the event foregone.
Adios
The Time you lived today
The Nature that you acclaimed
The earth that you live on
The wishes proclaimed.
Categories:
odiferous, art, dedication, devotion, faith,
Form:
Didactic
The wind off the cold North Atlantic ocean
smells of piquant seawater on its breath,
agreeably pungent, brackish and moist.
The legendary Nor'easter off Newfoundland,
the bane of so, so many ships at sea,
is not a breeze with a soft, caressing hand.
It kicks and knocks and slaps and whacks and thwacks,
pummels and punches, pinches and pushes.
The stolid, sturdy imperturbable island
sits there and puts up with the abuses.
The northeasterly wind is very resentful
of its odiferous reputation.
At night, it simmers and seethes and smolders,
writhes and trembles, weeps and whines, stirs and sulks.
But, like the song says, the wind and sea smells
are "perfume to my soul". I stand alone on shore
and listen to the ocean's roar, wind's whoosh,
and my mind decompresses, destresses;
this is my peace, my serenity. I am home.
Categories:
odiferous, analogy, appreciation,
Form:
Free verse
When you comment on a poem of mine
I owe you a concise note expressing thanks
That you took the time to read me is so fine.
Reading a comment makes me feel divine
As I read them up and down the planks
When you comment on a poem of mine.
I get joy from my daily New Poems dine,
Discovering new poets entering the ranks
That you took the time to read me is so fine.
Once I read each poem, now I draw a line
So many are hard to understand, like pranks
When you comment on a poem of mine.
Others so complex like trying to factor in sine
Leading me in and out of odiferous tanks
That you took the time to read me is so fine.
I enjoy poems that satisfy like a fine wine
Relieving me of so much of my daily angst,
When you comment on a poem of mine,
That you took the time to read me is so fine.
Written November 11, 2022
Categories:
odiferous, angst, appreciation, poems, poetry,
Form:
Villanelle
I heard the echoes of each gassy squeak
Held my breath when I sniffed his stinky leak
He let out a few more
So I ran for the door
Before his toots made the entire room reek
Others came out, while pinching their noses
His flatulence poured out like fire hoses
Oh, what a horrid smell
Worse than rotten egg shell
And can't be cloaked by the scent of roses
Woe to the innocent who are around
When his odiferous vapors abound
Just get ready to run
When the son of a gun
Cuts one loose with a squeaky little sound
September 24, 2021
Fart-Tastic Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Chantelle Anne Cooke
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Categories:
odiferous, humor,
Form:
Limerick
Odiferous, a sad and sordid tale,
for naught remains but that which does assail.
The rascal takes one final, pungent swipe:
grizzled remains along the center stripe.
----------
H/T to The Sunny Side of Skunks by Gershon Wolf
Categories:
odiferous, animal,
Form:
Couplet
I was off to a terrible start
A first date with odiferous fart
'til she made it quite clear
as her curfew drew near
That a fart's not the way to 'er heart!
Inspired by Jan Allison...
Categories:
odiferous, funny,
Form:
Limerick
What I’d like to be able to smell
is a breath of fresh air.
Compost, swamp gas or rectal release,
that’s not something for which I care.
This constant burn in my nose,
I’m thinking it’s just not fair.
Give me a blast of clean air from someplace,
it matters not from where.
I say, could that be methane or the cheese
that emanates from your toes.
I’m normally not fussy but
it’s curling hairs in my nose.
So if you are thinking of sharing a rectal blast,
I say its’ cost won’t be free.
Because if someone vomits in your pocket,
please attribute that to me.
*Dedicated to all those people who think "cracking one off" in public is funny!
Categories:
odiferous, funny, life
Form:
Rhyme
There is a poem
Dangling,
Unappreciated,
Just hanging there.
On our November,
A Thanking,
Loving,
Pumpkin.
Perhaps poor poetry;
But scrumptiously odiferous,
Dangling
Unappreciated,
But hanging there today anyway.
Happy Thanksgiving!.
Categories:
odiferous, 9th grade, fun,
Form:
I screwed it on and it went right up the bank.
Hey! Said Crankden Cramden, was that mink named Hank?
The one who lost his head and needed a new one? I asked.
I think so said Bogland Bagomire, as he baited and basked.
I am irritated when strangers get in on my conversation of course.
So I gave him the bug eye, and got back up on my horse.
That is cheap cheese you are using for bait, Betty Beatercheese said.
I gave her the fisherman eye that said clearly “you’re dead”.
As if by magic Shabolina Pilford suddenly appeared in Rockah.
She said “tighten up the chain and wheelie for a block’ah!”
The self appointed experts began giving Shabolina weird advice.
You can’t ram the car son! A voice yelled, and not very nice.
I’ll jerk the keys! The son yelled at his father, Crankden Cramden.
That’s when I smelled the odiferous cat box, put there by Jamden.
Fonkland O’giglocard yelled “I thought you were going home to me.
I decided to stay a bit longer and watch this crazy nightmare comedy.
Categories:
odiferous, 1st grade, 2nd grade,
Form:
Rhyme