Best Pees Poems
My soul is lost
upon ice-blue crevasses so deeply!
help me my blue elephant
that lettuce is brave
like electrons always saying hello
and never goodbyes!
You slip on lice and break your arms
it's all so SCHIZOPHRENIC: tangentiality!
stilted speech and phonemic paraphasia
are mainly broken-minded poets
who use both sides of a pencil
-+95% of black eyes kill 5% of rabbits
and the bird whistles in Japaneses:
"sei shin bun retsu byo"
( mind split disease)
where logic and proportion falls
between the King & Queen
AND ALL ANGELS go to 7-Eleven
in their heavenly garments to buy
hot dogs and slur-pees
and writing is a socially acceptable
form of schizophrenia...hmm....
such is the paradox of delusion
and how are you? When you walk down
a sidewalk to the abuse of verbally
abusive birds chirping loudly how
dull and stupid you are. So you move into
a homeless shelter and make new friends!
:: 10242015 ::
I know a woman who pees
with every succulent sneeze
It gets on her hose
and also on those
things hanging down to her knees!
*Jan - I'll bet you've got a photo on file which would go with this
lets meat-
my mary friends for a pot LUCK meal
at my plaice
colleen can you m a k e
your hale mary chilly
patricia please make your suite
bury pi
steve l o o k i n g foreword to the
grate stake you fry
I will
by wight whine and read whine
and brown and wight bred
owe deer dessert !
monica HOW about
pair moose . . .
and sum 1 bring p i c k l e s and beats
our GREEN will be pees
and later we will have tee-
I t h i n k that's write !
wee will meat at the our of ate
on SATURDAY next weak . . .
___________________________
December 2, 2017
Poetry/Free Verse/'u wanna piece of me'
Copyright Protected, ID 17-9680-29-0
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
Revoking Doc's License #1
A word from the State Medical Board committee
The #1 injection will always be P.D.
Doc, I am considering to slam you out of pity
I do not mess with poets whose licenses come from Hello Kitty.
You overdose my patient RED, getting down to the nitty gritty.
At this time, your practice has been revoke
For coming after me as I wear my black cloak.
I got a grip on my scythe pressed against your throat.
Pees running down your legs leaving you all soak
Doc, I got your body full of Narcotics and Painkillers as a joke.
Dropping you like a lawsuit on the examination table with one smack.
Denying you morphine as your vasectomy goes wrong in this attack
I already drove you insane labeling you a quack.
Your hand I flushed in (TRANQUILIZER), slapping you with a black Jack.
Waking up without your gems blood all over your sack.
Restrain you in a straitjacket, throwing you in a padded room.
Covered in your own s*it as you were in your mother’s womb
Poet-ing like a disco biscuit on ecstasy, before I made you go SKAT-boom!
Engraving your Poetic Doctor Degree on the outside of your tomb.
With the words that speak, P.D. was the cause of your poetic doom.
by;P.D.
This is my Homophone contest submission
Ewe No A Lyre
their once was a man with a bore
who worked down at the local bizarre
the bore eight corn colonels four lunch
and blew genes whir awl the man war
owe the bore eight serial two
from a plait unlike me oar ewe
we wood knead a bowl and a spoon
ore a mop wood bee totally due
won fine weak day mourn wile working
he brood tee four the men who maid toys
making tee and giving assistants
was that witch maid the mane men
his buoys
his gnu fame was nice
and it urned hymn
a day too lien back and relax
sow he went strait too his sweet
and wile still on his feat
he eight mince, mustered, pees and bare meet
at work he aloud his ant two chute bawl
butt four know obvious reason at awl
she through bred and plumb pi at
the goal
he chaste her aweigh
butt owe my he felt sow bad
sew he cent her to scents and a flour
and aloud her two come back inn an our
the gilt she felt
brought her pane
four she new she ode hymn sew much
she gathered her teem just inn thyme
two sing thank ewe sow very much.
win he herd the whey
they whir singing
it brought a tier too his I
he ran too the gait
two waive wildly
wile screaming a hi pitched buy by.
by Rochelle Harris
Intact I am math,
but in a blast I run fast-
somewhere above the tree line
I am seen as fine,
but inside I am tried.
The weather doesn't help locate a song,
so I hop on a motorcycle to get gone,
I soon crash into a nearby tree,
and lay on the ground for weeks.
The sooner I come home-
the lesser I learn how to grow,
and its never anything but my last breathe of shine that I felt my teeth grind,
gashing the enemy-
the way of the blind,
organic and prime,
my weaknesses don't show,
so I am fine.
And while feeling fine,
in an interesting wine,
I smell the pine,
it aches within me-
raking at my earliest pillory-
so I walk on pleased,
get paid,
and then go spend all my pees,
with this withering game of time,
I get hexed to know some of mine,
but I soon stop,
eager to drop,
1,2,3, and then four,
four strips,
one token,
and two years unspoken,
where I turn and spin in the door,
a splendid welcome to adore!
What shores have washed away from the pores!
What course I have taken to learn how to adore!
But there is a land I lived in alive-
but it just wasn't my find,
I was there,
but it wasn't my mind...
I wish I could scream!
Feel mean!
Go away unnoticed!
Then re-arrive climbing in trees!
Birds eat the bees,
lizards the breeze,
but character never breeds,
its gotta be seen-
understood,
spoken and then dreamed,
before you wake to it,
just like she made ya do it,
and you jerked yourself through it,
started ta loosin' it,
got loaded,
and became a rude influence.
Tall Tales In Short Form Contest
Sponsor: Casarah Nance
A flying chubby dog indeed, is my Mugsy the pug,
with stubby little legs always acting so smug.
He grew wings about a week after he was born,
by the breeder, how come we weren’t warned?
Last week he ran away chasing Rocky the Irish Setter,
my chubby little dog should've known better!
He spread his pug wings over Rocky and he pees,
"I swear, my Mugsy has small-man’s disease!"
Tough as a board, but scared as a tiny tot,
he barks and Rocky screams, “YOU’RE ANNOYING, STOP!”
Mugsy lands on Rocky’s grass and tears it to shreds,
for his owner just laid sod, “OH MUGSY YOU’RE DEAD!”
Mischievous and naughty he laughs in Rocky’s face,
I asked him where he was, “mom I was flying out in space!”
He’s a brave daredevil when crossing the street,
“oh my word Mugsy, you don't deserve a treat!"
~Date Written: May 5, 2016~
He spits his oatmeal all over the place;
holds his breath, now he's got a blue face.
He wants cookies and not just one.
He throws a fit, if he gets none.
He fell out of his chair and bumped his head.
That made him mad, now his cheeks are all red.
He pees his pants if he doesn't get his way.
He's cranky 'cause he's not had a nap today.
He wants another bottle so I tried to hide it.
He toddles around to try and find it.
He got it, now he's sucked it dry.
He can't get enough of that good old rye.
He's mad as a hornet with his stinger out.
Another day in the life of Grandpa Stout!..
Her name is Jennyanydots,
of her species she is not quite certain;
Sometimes she acts just like a cat
such as when she's climbing the curtains.
At other times she seems convinced
that dog runs through her veins.
Like when she responds with alacrity
whenever she hears her name.
Jenny preys on creatures smaller than she
as any cat will do;
But then she trots right at my heels
Like any canine true.
She guards the house against all comers,
Any creature that draws breath;
She even chased a Pit Bull once
And scared it half to death.
Yet sometimes she purrs and arches her back
Much like any textbook cat
She flexes her claws and grooms herself
And pees all over my hats.
No, she's not quite sure just who she is
Or which species to call her own;
But that is why I love her so
And pay tribute with this poem.
Wherever peaches grow I go and pick 'em.
When they get ripe I try and swipe 'em.
The farmer runs out with a shotgun and wonders where's the varmint gone?
I'm hiding by the railroad tracks stacking the peaches I've found.
Then a freight train about a mile long rolls by hauling a bucket of rain.
I hop aboard while beautiful clouds gather to the north.
I put my peaches in the bucket and lug it to a hidden part of the train.
The rain begins, the night looms in, it's summer and it's thoughts and warm.
To the clacking rumble and the patter I close my eyes and dream.
An earthquake swallows up the people who wear horrible masks of fright as
their daily tasks are trampled.
In a favorite movie theater an illumined lady puts her hand in mine, warm
mouths, breath, skin, hair wing-soft, whole bodies, wind, bare.
I open my eyes at sunrise there's a steady glow of light around.
If you can believe in God, you can believe the mountains go from purple to
green.
While the last partier meanders home to bed the first farmer is up to milk his
bread.
Fruit of the world ripens audibly and cities make a silent, distant sound.
Lonely guy stretches, rubs his eyes, pees out a passing train, has a
breakfast of peaches and rainwater.
A pool player taking a snooze
Had a dream that his match he would lose.
Since his bladder would squeeze
He was minding his pees
But he should have been minding his cues!
for Andrea's "Show Me the Funny" contest
The Wonder Mobile broke today
Of course it would happen
Why wouldn’t it
4 cylinders running on 3
Getting out to push probably much faster
Poor little Corolla
It had a hard life.
Neglected some love’n
It pees all over, grumbles when it starts
Brakes kind of funny, but the horn is loud
Might not stop on a dime
But you will hear me coming
Washed twice in 11 years
Driven around the block to go next door
Years of waking up in wonder
Will my car start today?
Am I catching the bus today?
It all caught up to me today
Maybe I will drive to the Ferrari lot
Trade it in, what can I get
Maybe I will humble myself
Fix the Wonder Mobile
Give it some love’n
And wash it a third time
=======
True story, my car really did break today.
=======
Venom resumes X 3
Suryas out of his basket indeed,
Even good boys are naughty, Sajni,
elevation creatonism,
mantra stance style,
the sun moons life,
he locks his eyes for an eternal rain dance,
chaos enveloped in tears from the sun,
cosmic comic stances that are silent,
the venom stillness of life,
under thunder blast compliance,
encounter my intellegence,
my imperfections,
venom resumes X 3,
vision,
prime modal,
infentile,
Surya is out of his skin,
he pees freely, and poohs slowly,
cautious very friendly,
screams X 3,
shout X 3,
venom X 3,
resumes X 3,
venom resumes X 3,
don't mention tantra to mantra,
Chandra,
everyone is listening,
even good boys are naughty,
even good boys go bad,
Chandra,
tell Rajni not to say any more mantras,
the town is out,
people are watching,
the sun will shout,
Surya X 3
Surya in gujarti means sun.
Chandra in gujarati means moon.
Rajni is name of an Indian man.
Tapasya means to run away for enlighnment in a jungle as pennance for bad deads in order
to aquire enlightment.
Suburban Spring
(4.15.10)
Springtime fills the air,
like laughing gas.
(Or maybe more like whiskey.)
The suburbs are drunk on the nectar of it's dawn.
Middle-class houses
are starting to dance.
(Or maybe they're just wobbling.)
They vomit whole families onto their lawn.
I watch them the same way dogs watch TV:
Confused and intrigued,
with a slight urge to pee.
The father cuts grass,
like a sleepwalker.
(Or maybe more like a zombie -
Ravenous for cheap beer, instead of brains.)
A six pack later,
he starts washing his car.
(Or watering his driveway.)
He's spreading on wax so he's set when it rains.
The mother kneels in dirt,
tending the garden.
(More like digging in a sandbox.)
Her spade is rusty. (Figuratively, at least.)
A sunset later,
she cooks family dinner.
(Or maybe orders some pizza.)
(If every mouth is fed, she can call it a feast.)
I watch them the same way dogs watch TV.
The son plays war games,
dying for fun.
(Or maybe more for practice.)
He whines about fruit drinks, as well as the heat.
A full pitcher later,
tweaking on sugar,
(Or maybe just corn starch.)
the war escalates, 'til its time to go eat.
The daughter makes a picnic,
inviting her toys.
(Or maybe not.)
(Her plastic spread can only spread so thin!)
After the tea time,
she's off picking flowers.
(Or maybe weeds.)
(As long as they're pretty, there's a vase that they'll fit in.)
They gather, as a family, at the table to say grace.
They hold each others' hands and say, "Amen."
(And proceed to stuff their face.)
The dog sits by the boy -
Loyal and true.
(Or maybe just hungry.)
He drools as he stares from the corners of his eyes.
After dinner,
he offers to help with the dishes.
(Or maybe he demands it.)
The boy sneaks him a bite. The dog is not surprised.
Bedtime comes soon after.
The kids are sent to brush their teeth.
(Or maybe just to run the sink.)
They put on their jammies, and to bed, they go.
After tucking them in,
the parents watch TV.
(Or maybe they just dream they do,
sleeping in its glow.)
The dog is changing channels,
looking for a better show.
Confused and intrigued,
he pees on the carpet below.
I Am A Rose
Planted in the early spring placed gently in the earth.
At one time just a single seed until I'm given birth.
Peering out a tiny crack I think I see the sun.
Glancing quickly all around I am the only one.
Getting bigger day by day once pounded by the rain.
I feel I have grown stronger from my temporary pain.
Dancing softly in the wind looking through my Roses eyes.
Bumble bees come visit me along with butterflies.
I know sometimes a flowers life can seem to be so hard.
When somewhere living close to me there lives a St Bernard.
I asked my friend the butterfly to bring the dog to me.
Then I plotted and I planned with my friend the bumble bee.
Jumping playfully in the air he chased the butterfly.
Never ever on this earth has there been a Rose so sly.
As soon as he was close enough he felt the sting of bees.
Me? I had my part to do so I pricked him where he pees.
Rose means love and friendship.