Best Orifices Poems
Suns soft sensual soaking silhouette
slowly sneaks silently the silky skin
Oppulent orifices ooze olive sweat
Reprising rhythmic rouge romance akin
Saturated salt smelling skin spilling
frothy fragrant fire ferociously
Capricious calm converts to cool chilling
Precipitation paid precociously
Heartwarming henotic humble heat haunts
harmed human hearts hypnotized happily
Gleaming glowing glare gravitating taunts
of liquid love long lost unhappily
Precious precocious sunshine come hither
Need your lava lifeblood not to wither
3/13/2018
At the cradle of my nightmares,
My future is a horror film,
I track my ghosts,
Like a junkie in withdrawal.
I am a true clandestine calamity,
A mass grave of silent suffering,
A candelabra of pain soothed by dirty money,
I hate the human race,
And I will never have a pet.
I am a loner addicted to silence.
I only write in the dark, to deathly sounds.
A mix of gloomy feelings,
I walk in the darkness of my imperfections,
My hands are no longer innocent,
Since I’ve handled weapons of war.
I am a child of the slums of the third world,
I know perfectly the orifices of misery.
Another damn sleepless night spent monologuing in the darkness of this cold room,
The devil covers his ears to the atrocities spilling from my confessions.
I’ve already used gunpowder
For a firework on the edge of legality.
I never agreed to sleep on an empty stomach,
I’ve risked my freedom since I was ten.
I’ve learned to walk among hungry beasts.
I’m already at war with my demons,
I know I’ll end up in the flames.
I know I have no right to trust a human being,
Being a slave to shine is impossible.
My enemies squat in my imperfect flesh.
I don’t smoke crack,
I don’t smoke cannabis,
I don’t snort cocaine,
I don’t drink alcohol,
I sometimes burn a few cigarettes.
I avoid psychotropics,
I’m not a poet,
Just a tormented mind,
Prisoner of infernal loops,
Where murder scenes repeat endlessly.
My tears stopped flowing down my cheeks
Since I saw my friend crushed by a logging truck.
I am an angry man with murderous impulses,
I commit suicide each time in this same nightmare that has repeated since my childhood.
I’m approaching fifty,
I’ve stopped meditating on the whims of the reaper,
I’ve stopped wandering in graveyards.
Let the universal force show mercy on my impure, tainted soul
By the poisons of lust,
I accumulate transgressions to have a throne in the furnaces of hell.
I don’t believe in paradise, but I know I’ll burn in the abyss’s celestial flames after my twilight.
A deep philosophical reflection in the ramblings of my delirium.
I hate the spotlights like those criminals on the run,
Too many regrets hidden in the closets,
A clean criminal record like the entrails of Christ’s mother.
I blaspheme to darken my divine fragment.
Sordid tales your eyebrows tell
Insinuations start to sing
Things we all know very well--
Say, did you miss my wedding ring?
You’d do you worst right here and now
A stealthy drink from your chalice
Want me to forget the wedding vows,
A mechanical bull with phallus?
Pursing your lips, parading your hips
All the while, I’m stifling quiet laughter
As if your fries and shake could eclipse
My seven course happily ever after!
Coworkers of giant ego
And undersized self-restraint
Have fallen prey to your libido
Flushed it all to taste your taint
But see, here’s the baseline reality
About my availability you’re mistaken
Unless my wife’s nonexistent bisexuality
You can magically awaken
Sure, maybe you can be a roast turkey slice
Between our marital sandwich bread
Or our fresh sushi covered in rice--
I shouldn’t joke; now you’re being misled…
But seriously, there’s nothing to discuss
What you’re implying just ain’t happening
Further coquetry is simply superfluous
Back to the regularly scheduled programming
And in closing, here’s what I’d do
If you’re looking for lifestyle enhancement
Instead of looking for married men to woo
Perhaps try some legit career advancement.
5/1/16
© Thomas W. Quigley
Almonds encased in hard red candy
Brandy from snow white walnuts
Collateral damage to the left front bumper of the sled
Dietary restrictions on anything considered a spice
Everything more often wins the day
Francesca left her pie though (no one will eat that)
Gluwein, go get it, we need it now
Hysterical colors spin all around me
Illicit behavior may well be tolerated though only after 10pm
Jellybeans are being shoved into orifices now
Knives are being put away for the safety of everyone here (especially Dwayde)
Lathering up all the kid's faces now to resemble tiny maniac Santas
My mother is making tea
No one will drink
Octopussy is playing in the background
Phantasmagoria bread pudding
Quickly tell me who ate all the bread pudding
Round them up and shoot them
Seriously
The only thing I ever eat is the bread pudding and everyone knows it
Unusual cravings now
Vertical with help from the wall
Waiting for someone named Misty to return from her car with her white elephant
Xenon purple body
Yuletide clopping going on inside my head
Zesty reds streak across the insides of my eyelids
Mingling multiplying minnows marvel masterfully and jaded hooded jalapenos race to the scene. For a pretty fortress is unveiled to a mass highway injection. In a timed spring curve heap hats. In a basting tree wear a nice vest with some heels. As a storm passes remember that a nine inch dome bowl is often a domesticated chatter box and holds vast amounts of information and instructional words to many a passing mouse. So always put leaves in a soup. Wear a spade and trowel. Mix a temple with a house to form associations of a flowery day. Snowing is great fun for those pickled and pins can win in toboggan competitions in world wide juxtaposition. Is merely a global push. A capitalist catapulting cavey. An orchestra of a self shrouded mission bomb. Swooping swerving swimming in acres of grasslands. Timelords. Tinkering. Tinkling. Tin. Tan. Ton. Tone. Dare to cross a washing line of over 800 metres. Balance on a scone. Sit on a sandwich. Or swim in a broth. Cavity carnal caves creating clapping dance. 3% of an oceanographic octopus at a grand ball. Oh how quite exquisite. Punky puffing puffins. Opulence. Orifices of domestic fishes. Cinema of calibration. *** moonbeams
(There's a thirteenth 'zodiacal' constellation, Ophiucus, The Serpent Wrestler/Holder, or the "Twelth Symbol," as here used. In some ancient cultures, serpents were revered as feminine symbols of rebirth/healing, and bees as symbols of wisdom, while Roman catholicism considered coffee to be the "wine of infidels" until the 15th. century. Historically, Ophiucus may never have been used in astrology, though it is the house between Scorpio and Sagittarius in a astrological system purportedly developed in the mid-1900's, making Sagittarius the thirteenth sign in such a system - thus in this poem, "the Twelth Symbol" was "usurped by what used to be the thirteenth". Of course, "Good Ol' Triple Six" and other numerical variations thereof in this work refer to 666, the mythological number of the Anti-christ.)
___
I want a jeezus, unsweetened, decaffeinated, no additives -
- certainly no booze or needle tracks -
because I want a trim, uptight jeezus, totally pure and constipated
to pimp for the face-down with the Great-to-the-nth Numeral-Triplet,
because the descendant number of my measureless time
is a Trinity of the fourth primes-of-eighteen (no xeroxing
needed!)...
... my godpappy, William Blake, gone loony out of his goddam mind
over visions of seraphim and angels,
slapping the jaggedly unholy rhythm of a bawdy tune on my new-born
butt
while in drag he baptizes y'hweh in drag...
... and I want you to know
that my razor isn't my father's
road-hog...
... smoothin' along, instead of Jacko Kerowacko in my briefs, just
the road of excess still somewhere on the map,
while the bottom line is
that it's all as cheap as a Walmart `ho, though why not plumb the
sacred profanity
of All Animalism in the ditch just along that road
instead of blasphemating in a line way too long at The Mart?
"Can't wait, dude, gotta' get my *jive, here and now, `cause the
marquee says", `Drive-by Lyrics Smack-Down Between Marilyn Manson
And Good Ol' Triple-Six' '', farting rhythms and rhymes
from all orifices of His five-and-a-half shooter off His uncouth
butt -
(continued in Part 2)
Canadian Winter
Frank Halliwell
At dawn you hear the crackle
As the sap in frozen trees
Splits the tree trunks like a gunshot
Down below fifty degrees.
And the crying of the kee birds
As they circle in the sky,
In ever smaller circles
'Til they vanish bye and bye-
Up their fundamental orifices,
Or so the story's told,
In their fruitless desperation
To escape the awful cold.
Turn on the car's ignition
And all it does is groan!
You forgot to plug the car in,
And the motor's turned to stone.
But the sun on newly fallen
Snow's a magic fairyland,
And windows all display the art
Of Jack Frost's gifted hand.
There must be other places
Where the weather's more perverse,
And the moment that I think of one
I'll write another verse.
***
An expression of a Nurse
I am a Nurse,
I am loved by few and hated by many
Everyday I dedicate my life to saving lives of others
From 7 o'clock in the morning to 7 o'clock in the evening
Whether its winter, whether its Summer
Day and night I sacrifice my comfort
And put myself at risk of developing deep venous thrombosis
Through standing
Swimming in life threatening infections
And deadly diseases
Yet I am loved by few hated by many.
My dedication, my determination,My willingness, my passion, my care
They are all never recognized
Only my mistakes are visible in the eyes of everyone
Because I am loved by few hated by many
From vomitus to faeces, Urine to blood, sweat to sputum
My hands discriminate none
In all body orifices they navigate to heal where it is injured
Assess where it is wrong and comfort where there is pain
From head to toe they travel to provide holistic nursing care
To bring back good health to those afflicted by sickness
Yet I am loved by few hated by many
I am a Nurse, hate me, love me
My hands will always be receptive
To accomodate your entrance.
Sister Mary Catholic never tells a lie
Trust her in her order to be pure
Every word spoken under the habit screams
Penance requires suffering
Nuns are likely to be abducted
Taken aboard an alien ship for treatment
Bug eyed tentacled creatures travel through space
Looking for old ladies in long black robes with rosaries
Who simply accommodate the flavor of the day in prayers
Probes that don't always offer pleasure come with a price
She returns from beyond the stars not quite the same
Some orifices are considered sacred
Sacrifices must be made for science
Some times she cracks a smile while being violated
These heathens will be converted by her touch
A bar of soap to cleanse their awful breath
Scalding hot water to purify dirty filthy minds from sin
Is what religion requires for non human beings
Sister Mary tells her story to the priest
Who vows to keep her secret safe from outer space
Night of the full moon
Whale fish are most adept at swimming around in a shot glass but glass goblets are preferred by dolphins whose long dorsal fin opts for wide open rimmed spaces. Stingrays desire to be seen in the most finest crystal glasses but the flat fish is only ever seen in a tumbler. Often tumbling. And giggling with pure delight. But what of ambition from all these creatures. Would they not want to swap? Are they ever content with their locations? Omnipresent octopi often offer octagonal orifices. The vertical verb of a naughty little variegated platy can vary a variant victoriously. How rather marvellous that is isn't it?
Instinct ink can inform. But ink that is mislaid, misinformed and generally mundane is confused and confusion can offer creations canopies of catastrophic chasms. Mingle in a mangle then. Up and down the threads. Obviously a straight ironed trousers. Hemmed. Could see straight through 27 pairs of skirts in rows and point out the pin marks.
Awkward antelope answering apostle ants?How quite amazing! Well it is isn't it? And the gathering of the buds upon the washing line can hang out in all weathers. Thus ensuring an even radius of elements to dry, wet then dry again. Broad shoulders of a bean. Big bloated buffalo's beating banging bongo's. Baboon laughs and laughs and laughs and lingers on leaves no more for the beat is too amazing to place himself in such a confined positional place but heated propositions from a piglet often sway the breezes. And the backwards running tap always laughs at the dandelion in flight. Because it is very very very funny indeed!
WOW
Running ruining radii ravish radishes ridiculing realities. Such reduction in a nylon beaded glove. And gloves of a geranium are often glowing and glowering at the same time. Such a simultaneous display of floral fragrant feats.
WOW
Fiddle fathoms fish fetching forks finely.
Z at the X lauwiliwilinukunuku?oi?oi Z to X
At 46 mealworms chatting over a nice cup of tea at a garden fete to 19 cackling teapots dressed in wintry jumpers smoking.
X
Ugh, Why Must The Missus Vacuum At The Crack Of Dawn?
(circa: early December 27, 2018 morning)
There appears to be a
virulent (possibly deadly) strain
of housekeeping virus
Hoover ring in the air
asymptomatic tentatively linked to rein
deer droppings (micro-organisms) blare
ring and trumpeting beyond
the threshold to humans, though plain
lee send audible wavelengths
to symbiotic species clear
as a bell, which organisms don
nano size MAGA hats, and main
lee set up shop in carpet threads,
and chiefly thrive on deer
pellets, where one bee bee
gun size bullet serves long lane
of critters unseen can easily
make headway into ear,
eyes, nose, et cetera other
orifices, and Kane
inject unsuspecting vacuum sealed
byproduct to forswear
unsightly piles of dirt, debris,
dust bunnies, which Jain
Dharma would find
appalling horrifically glare
ring at desecrating supposed germ
carrying pests calling utterly inane,
the constant effort
to keep house beautiful heir
ruled ding disinfectant resistant,
whether mite tee Germaine,
or itty bitty teensy weensy siblings
many named Oh Fair
Roe One Wade for me, nonetheless seek
out porous fleshy terrain
allowing, enabling and providing
pinhead size portal
i.e. vector to engineer
transmitting a fast
acting alien entity
without any explain
nation, an immediate urge to spruce up
the place applying interlinear
trigonometry (of course adhering to
Feng Shui when rearranging), without drain
ning, lessening, zapping,
et cetera, but meer
really loose sing a whirling dervish
(mini tornado) fiercely
finding the spouse on feverish spree
to clean entire apartment chain!
I twist my speech to seem, and be, as white and spotless bone.
Silence 'flecting, like a mirror, on the wall to show
man, so hypocrite and liar. This is who we are.
Man! The curse of sin has brought you far,
into the pits of lusting pyre. Engulf our spirit's flame.
Set afire desire for spit and skin,
bitter sweat, blood, and orifices.
The dawning of Aquarius. The sun has set on Pices.
This crooked generation, like as Sodom and Gomorrah.
As that faithful Lot, I am, and live amongst the tares.
My neighbors live and speak as I, when I can find no faith.
I guilty of the same as they, the Scripture saith.
I e'er be found in heaven... it be not that I am good.
Nor can I love God enough to trust Him as I should.
My own love and faith is full of fault and fear.
My faults and fears, my sin, is loud and clear.
If Father, Son, and Holy Ghost
impute not Life, a man is lost.
A goat without blemish
And creepers and verming
Are inserted in its mouth
Then all it's orifices are bound
The ancients sewed them up
And it driven to the wilderness
To carry away the sins of the masses
You took the fall Massiah
Carrying that cross and driven
To Golgotha carrying a heavy burden
A redemption for those willing to partake
Of the blood of the new covenant..
A lamb slain at the foundation
Of the world.. by name Word..
It took your life Uhai to create Wahyi
The prophetic word ushered life
The creating Word as the world took form
The Almighty is enthroned between the wings
Of the mighty Cherubim.. the living creatures
And the 24 elderls decree Holy holy is the Lord
Worthy is the lamb to receive the scroll
And open the seal, and proffes judgement
Lest we forget the pain and the slaughter
The rape the plunder and all the maafa
Of the land and children of the mother land
Lightening strikes, it then thunders and rain
Pours all over the land bringing renewal
Regrowth of the land signaling
As long as there is day and night
As long as harvest and planting persist
We will tend the sacred groves and proclaim
We are born of the Covenant with the Creator.
"American Super Bugs."
In a Big City, not long ago,
bedbugs grow like turtles, so big were their torso,
they thrived on blood, and became Super Bugs,
to men who were drunk every night, when time is right
bugs did not bite but they shun to avoid.
To all the ladies, bugs strife and bugs bite,
ever continuing their bites, night after night,
the bites that never end in sight.
The ladies were bitten everywhere,
in a rented apartment that they dwell,
causing even eyelids to blisters and swell
thank you bugs, for not entering the orifices as well.
When Terminex tried to terminate,
they found that bugs were hard to eradicate.
Bugs bite back, and bugs hide in beds
bugs thrives in sheds, and bugs keep coming back.
To a hotel, the two ladies had to flee
in a spree, bugs followed them with a glee,
Help! Help!, two of them cried for plea,
the bugs were the notorious of the species of the fleas.
Having the worst of the bites, the ladies ever had in their life,
the ladies gave-up, & flew home taking a flight.
By Dr Ko Ko Thein (U.S.A)
Salt Lake City.
He was an old male with some years still to go.
Testing the air he could smell something alluring
that heated his blood and sent him into must.
Thick mucus ran from his eyes and other orifices
and at full speed he followed the scent,
other animals fled as he trampled by.
Intent on only one thing fifty miles away
he crashes through all in his way.
trumpeting his desire as he goes.
On arrival the other males cede
as he charges through them to her.
She has waited refusing all others.
Knowing that he was on the way
an awesome sight as dripping he mounts.
At last done he is soon again on his way.
His must will last several days so time
is against him as from female to female
he goes leaving in them all his seed.