Best Odor Poems
When she told him he had b.o.
He put on the ‘insulted show’
“You say I smell?
Well I can’t tell
You must have a defective nose!”
No, everywhere he goes he reeks
Oblivious to his toxic leak
She dreads his visits
His stench inhibits
Her smelling her roses all week!
12/5/11
three fluff balls sweetly
yellow and small packs a smell
Like a hog farm!
The whole path to home was filled with incense It has indulged my every sense
It has hit my senses to rose It was not the fragrance of the rose
It was not the smell of lavender Nor the scintillating smell of sandal powder!
On the way I found no flower Rather not found any blower!
It remained firmly along the way, As you had just walked away!
Ultimately I saw you, as splendor Objectively, I adore your body odor!
Above poem is from adapted from the eBook “FIRE WITHOUT FIRE IS ETERNAL! AND OTHER POEMS ON HAPPY LOVE ” by Mr.V.Muthu manickam. Copyright is held by V.Muthu manickam. Tweet him at : @mpvmuthu5.
The sweet smells of Christmas linger
Like the pine from our Christmas tree,
The gingerbread fresh from the oven
Has always had a special appeal to me.
A fresh pot of cinnamon cider simmering
The scent of sugar cookies cooling
Lends the air of festivity to mid-December
They always serve to start me drooling.
Fragrance of Burberry candles fills the house
Fresh linens seen only during the holiday
The marvelous smells of Christmas dinner
Bring back many memories of yesterday.
Written November 29, 2022
Time To Shower...When Pervasive Odor Of Ureic Acid
Doth strongly waft, sting,
and nauseate about me
olfactory nose flying zone
bombarding cilia of
nasal passageway analogous
to displeasure wrought by
crashing, deafening, exploding,
ear splitting xylophone,
also synonymous isolated like
barenaked lady within
remote location of Lake Woebegone,
voluntarily forced to bathe
in brutally cold
mountain waters oxbow lake
vaguely resembling out
size topographical wishbone
rescue unlikely since
bajillion miles from radio tower,
thus state of the art
electronically sophisticated videophone
good as worthless resignation,
sans fate linkedin tubby
mother nature's cryogenic specimen
more'n murmuring undertone,
where huge Arctic glacier overshadows
infinitesimally microscopic human,
one speck kin zee ditched
*****sapien subsumed
under superfluous tombstone
as frozen fountain head,
where Atlas shrugged,
nonetheless incongruous yen
to purge mine offensive odor,
where civilization footprint
sole lee mine alone in wilderness
thus farcical reason (without rhyme),
atypical, farcical, and poetical title,
yours truly didst stirrup and spur
inexplicable search for soapstone,
yet prospect to don measly frame
without gay apparel
(beastie boy bit figurative bullet,
and buttressed body in buff)
immediately augmented primal scream
to trumpet heebeegeebees
(teeth chattering yodeling
rendition re: stayin alive)
from this Rhinestone
survivalist cowboy wannabe,
began feeling comfortably numb,
and immediately prone
to become human popsicle,
especially when sub zero temperature
immediately froze water splashed skin
(like glassy sheet of ice)
glancing viz albedo effect
as blindingly white
snow capped mountains outshone
albino crags, offering
absolute zero, yes none
reassurance with insulated moonstone
sleeping bag useful
as yolked with lodestone
around neck - slow death by
freezing this knucklebone,
who sought cleanliness,
(and panacea to immortality)
joining exclusive polar bear club
(Ursus Maritimus very selective,
and only chose me) even
at expense of more'n
just frozen jawbone
plus Jack frost bitten cockles turned
deep purple as inkstone
used to write re: scrawl epitaph
on icicle glommed headstone.
Amidst the clove of reality and elation,
Lust, of incandescent sensation
Breathing taste into stomach and mind,
Odor, desire, all refined
Steam ascending like a creeping mist,
The smoldering heat shall not desist
Dissolving white, Mmm! flavor endowed,
Slithering upon the brownish origin’s cloud
Then the sweetness, a tap of infallibility,
Adding more flavor, hence tranquility
“Herbally” speaking, the odorous touch,
Finally convenes to create One and no such
Tea of Hayle, art to sculpt,
Tea, milk, sugar, and Hayle in cup…
Hayle: Arabic word for Cardamon
Chantilly lace curtains of my apartment window ripple in the cold January night. From here, I observe mooring lights that illumine the docks in this petty northern port and four cafés that lean toward one another, side-by-side, though separate and apart. I wonder at their co-location. Their twinkling lights blur together in a loud kaleidoscope of color.
The harbor winds carry putrid odors to my window. Sidewalk signs cover most of the walkway. Though too distant to register detail, I discern the outline in flickering neon of two women outside the smallest café as men clad in oilskin foulies lumber into the second, barely a bar, as they all are. Faint modern dance rhythms announce a tiny dance floor inside the third. The brightest café-bar has no one visible. A lone figure in casual attire moves from café to café, not staying long. He moves in the same pattern, over and again, stopping once to chat with the women. I wonder what or who he seeks. The women disappear down a side pathway.
With a desultory outlook for the evening, I close my window, wrap against the cold, and descend the European-styled spiral staircase.
Body Odor Bad
Mosquitoes are in air but whose;
Maybe you should pick and chose;
Body odor had,
Which was bad;
Someone else's they started to use.
Jim Horn
4998. Almost there.
Anyone can enter my poems
in any tests if they want to.
5000. Imagine that.
We are not really human beings having a spiritual experience.
We are actually spiritual beings having a human experience!.
This immediately happens when Jesus becomes your savior.
Jim Horn
This is to thank Poetry Soup for my
free lifetime premium membership
now that I have reached 5,000
and am now number three in
total poetry production. That
is a great idea that you have.
Thanks very much. Sure is a
great Christmas present.
James Thomas Horn
I want to tell you lastly
The smell of you is ghastly.
no one knows him in the room
except by loss of breath
greeted as unwelcome guest
his stinking scent is death
noses wrinkled in disgust
when sensed this gust of wind
all souls beneath his sickly scent
are far too quickly pinned.
inhaled in gasps of shortened breath
each person feels impending death.
Surprised, all eyes begin to scan
so desperate for a breeze or fan.
Feeling faint they seek escape
from reeking odor, lungs in rape.
A paler pallor faces all.
noses seeking some release.
knees so weak they nearly fall
from lungs too weak to call.
Those outside hear tears and pleas
so open doors for those on knees
finger pointing, whispered tone
but none the smallest fart will own.
Small fart dissipates and leaves
crowd relieved, all sigh.
A slow goodbye that no one grieves
so glad to see the open sky.
No friend the small fart has, he knows.
He comes and goes by wrinkled nose.
All he does so quick offend,
wish to hell he'd swiftly end.
you think I'm cuckoo
the smells that make me boohoo ~
gaseous poopoo
Sex 101
by Michael R. Burch
That day the late spring heat
steamed through the windows of a Crayola-yellow schoolbus
crawling its way up the backwards slopes
of Nowheresville, North Carolina...
Where we sat exhausted
from the day’s skulldrudgery
and the unexpected waves of muggy,
summer-like humidity...
Giggly first graders sat two abreast
behind senior high students
sprouting their first sparse beards,
their implausible bosoms, their stranger affections...
The most unlikely coupling—
Lambert, 18, the only college prospect
on the varsity basketball team,
the proverbial talldarkhandsome
swashbuckling cocksman, grinning...
Beside him, Wanda, 13,
bespectacled, in her primproper attire
and pigtails, staring up at him,
fawneyed, disbelieving...
And as the bus filled with the improbable musk of her,
as she twitched impaled on his finger
like a dead frog jarred to life by electrodes,
I knew...
that love is a forlorn enterprise,
that I would never understand it.
Keywords/Tags: first love, sex, sexy, lust, passion, desire, school, student, teen, teenage, learning, bus, foreplay, fingering, odor, musk, romance, romantic, humiliation
I made peanut butter and jelly
for Jane whose feet were very smelly,
because they stunk sooo bad
I got darn piping mad...
my lunch stayed away from my belly!
After the rain,
came the smell
of rain
as the earth
vaporized its
pleasure at
its renewed
fecundity
felt deep within.
The musty scent
of dampness
loaded with aromas
and fragrances,
wafted up from
damp organic stuff.
Wetted by drips
and drops, and
scattered splatter spots
daubed on the
parchment of
dryness, the smell
of rain arose,
in a spiral,
curling upward.
An odor was near
We got the flock out of here
It did disappear.
Jim Ho Ho Horn
PS. I a sure Trump
would say it differently.