Best Perv Poems
The spirit that remembers the taste of blood
is cold and fearless
Lift your head up, set sail to the top
ride high waves, exceed climax
Liars - Death Penalty - Losers
Knock the nickel nail in the coffin
High tide, rising toxic ... turbo tempo
Rugged, round stones at the bottom,
slippery with long rubber boots
Brutally raped, broken - no virgin anymore
She carries her own cross, weak and weary
A secret place, buried in a rusty box
Woven deep in the ground, gaunt soil
Sleep safe with your mouth closed, not a beep
Under four eyes, an external promise - an oath
Frail and disappointment, without mercy
No rest, restart ... move on
Can you forgive poisonous words and perv actions
May your conscience burn brave and blue
26.03.2018
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Alliteration poem - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Silent One
2nd place in the contest
Poem of the Day : 28.03.2018
Categories:
perv, dark, deep,
Form:
Alliteration
FRED THE PERV.
Kinky Fred stole knickers off the line
One summer night his haul totalled nine
His spree ended in tears
Got an extra ten years
When Judge Sue said that red pair were mine.
LARS.
A young astronaut from NASA called Lars
Blasted off from Cape Kennedy to Mars
But then there was a glitch
When he pressed the wrong switch
Last seen heading at warp speed to the stars.
PETE.
A young pianist from New York called Pete
Could play William Tell using his feet
But he fell of his chair
And he started to swear
Was booed off and thrown into the street.
JOHNNY GABLE.
A mean old waiter called Johnny Gable
Saw a man choke to death on a bagel
He then shifted his body
To the side of the lobby
Said forgive me but we need the table .
O'TOOLE.
A forgetful pilot Johnny O'Toole
Was over the north sea flying to Bule
Then both engines spluttered
Under his breath muttered
Looked at his gauge and screamed no ruddy fuel.
OLD GANGSTER.
An old gangster rose from rags to riches
Got rid of all his traitors and snitches
They'd find in their bed
A racehorses head
Or find themselves sleeping with the fishes.
THE BAKER.
An unwashed old baker from Idaho
Had filthy fingers when kneeding the dough
Folk choked on his paella
Some died from salmonella
Got closed down and ended up on skid row.
O'KEEFE.
A fella by the name of O'Keefe
Was the long serving town's police chief
Someone stole the mess cookies
Everyone blamed the rookies
But it turned out O'Keefe was the thief.
AMOUROUS MICHAEL.
Amourous young Michael from Mayo
At a girls house he tried to stayo
She started to shouto
And then kicked him outo
Said she" you're not staying no wayo."
NIGERIAN POEM THIEF.
A sly poem thief from Nigeria
On the soup caused a mass hysteria
He stole soupers work
Soupers went beserk
On the run now cos he's in fear of ya.
Written 18th august 2019.
Categories:
perv, humor,
Form:
Limerick
In response to 'paint me a rainbow' by nicola byrne
Golden eye and crescent nerve.
The rainbow hides, he doesn't like
to be disturbed.
He's actually a bit perturbed.
The people gaping from behind
and every angle wide.
You have to pay for pictures blue
and colours frosted in the nude.
The rainbow waits in turn for you
to show him curves for him to perv.
Categories:
perv, celebration,
Form:
Free verse
Below are the majority views of students about to vote
for their next high school head-captain:
Nelson:
He is tall and handsome,
plays for our basketball team,
knows the best bars in town,
hates maths, just like us.
Pitt:
He's shy,
hates proms and games,
he's a nerd,
he wears heavy glasses
Charlie:
He's a perv and a chain smoker,
heavy metal is his friend,
never talks much,
but rocks in raving!
Kelvin:
An "A" material, and spends more time
in the library than in bed.
He believes in extraterrestrials.
We think he should visit a shrink or something....
Hosea:
He's very smart and funny,
active in spoken word,
hates politicking,
certain for a scholarship,
very good with skateboards....
................................................................................
Hosea made the cut,
but forcefully. Majority
of students threatened
that they would steal his
skateboards, if he didn't
stand for the coveted position
as the head-captain......
Categories:
perv, funny, high school, hilarious,
Form:
Narrative
A pervert hung silk stockings by the tree
With a note saying put a girl in for me
He rushed down Christmas morn
After watching some p.o.r.n.
And found both the silk stockings were empty.
He was cursing and so went back to bed
Spied a note from Santa Claus and it said
For the good girls and boys
I bring lots of nice toys
But nowt for you cos you're sick in the head.
He was angry and unable to sleep
Went out looking for gaps in drapes to peep
But as he got bolder
A cop grabbed his shoulder
And said "you're under arrest you sick creep"
The next day he went up before Judge Seers
As all the charges were read there were jeers
Told the pervert to his face
You're an absolute disgrace
So I'm sending you to jail for ten years.
Written 15th December 2021.
Categories:
perv, humor,
Form:
Limerick
Was it me? Did I say something wrong?
Am I some boring automaton?
The chats were fun and even light,
Don’t think I gave some hurtful slight.
Perhaps I wasn’t quite wonderful,
had good looks, or financial pull.
Don’t think I ever came off too shy,
but then again I would never fly.
Wasn’t snarky and surely not mean,
yet never successful in online scene.
Maybe what angered each little honey,
was that I'd not send lots of money.
Mexico’s out and Malaysia too,
and steered clear of European zoo.
So guess there’ll be no Russian teens,
shall I now try the Philippines?
[Was thinking of calling it LAMENT OF THE OLD PERV. And I chuckled while writing it.]
Categories:
perv, humor,
Form:
Rhyme
I first learned to dance when I was four
But my kids won't let me do it no more
They say I look like a perv
The way I wiggle a swerve
They say I even embarrass the floor
Categories:
perv, funny
Form:
Limerick
Every night is the same here
As the night before
They make us drink a couple beers
Then men come in the doors
And have their choice of whores
We’re supposed to flirt and smile
Encourage their attentions to us
But when you’ve done this a while
It’s hard to sell them lust
When all you feel is disgust
If you resist, they’ll drug you
And sell you anyway
You’ll wake up broken and bruised
And sore between your legs
(Or worse, if they have sick tastes)
So try to find the nicest perv
And take him to your bed
Don’t count on those pimping jerks
To help; help yourself instead
And choose the best prospect -
The answer is in their eyes
Soft or warm eyes are best
If they give you chills say bye
And move on to the next set
Before their appetite’s whet
If you can’t get away
Don’t let them see your dread
Above all, don’t grovel or pray
Or even play dead (think pummeled head) -
That’s how their power is fed
Just imagine they’re someone else
Like a lover from long ago
It’s easier to take the abuse and dwell
On happiness you used to know
And keep that horseshoe of hope
If you lose hope or die, they win
So don’t make it easy for them
Pick the best guy and give him a “grin” -
It’s the only control you’ll ever get
In a rape contest
Revised 3/6/12
Categories:
perv, hope, people, philosophy, sad,
Form:
Didactic
There once was an old man, a perv.
And wow! He had quite the nerve.
He pulled down his pants,
Said "Watch my demon dance."
He really threw me a curve.
Categories:
perv, corruption, dark, emo, humor,
Form:
Limerick
Dorothy and Toto went skipping
the Yellow Brick Road(she was tripping).
She had just smoked a joint--
getting high was the point--
and now she was bent on some stripping.
She thought that old scarecrow looked easy
(he'd be a good score easy-peasy).
She tripped on her slippers,
her gingham went rippers,
the scarecrow asked, “Up for a threesy?”
Now Dorothy said, “You've got nerve.
My dog is off limits, you perv!
Plus you see I'm a mess
with torn gingham, no less.
I don't seem to have the same verve.”
She managed to rise from the bricks.
Oh great, she thought. Lost in the sticks!
And her new ruby pumps
had just taken some lumps.
I hope Oz does a **** shoe fix.
“I've got a head bump from the twister,
so keep a good distance there, Mister.
My Toto's a killer,
he bite off your tiller
and all you'll have left is a blister.”
Dale Gregory Cozart
"They got it wrong", tin man said with a sigh
"Ten should be spelled with and e, not an I,"
"So here's a new plan,"
"Hook up with Ten man"
"On my bucket list you're very high!"
Pat Adams
Poor tin man’s willy was rusty
When aroused he’s feeling quite lusty
Dot gives him a greasing
His passion’s unceasing
Especially as Dot is so busty
Jan Allison
Feel free to join in. Soup mail me. More stanzas coming later.
Categories:
perv, fantasy, humor, satire,
Form:
Limerick
Lost Soul
We’ve gathered here to say goodbye
to yet another boring guy,
kept on yelling for attention
till it gave him hypertension.
Now in the box beneath the shroud
he’s got the eye of all the crowd,
best leading role he ever had,
but no applause and no one’s sad.
Old mourners sprinkle ancient pews,
ill fitting suits and pee-stained trews,
some glasses, dentures, aching backs
with makeup plastered in the cracks.
They kneel for prayers on creaking limbs
then silent lips mouth unknown hymns.
The dead man’s peers in church are few.
Who pays respects where none seem due?
His painted widow in her weeds
now wonders who will sate her needs
with hubby just about to burn
and end up ashes in an urn.
She never grudged the man his health,
content enough to share the wealth,
but pleased this sudden turn of fate
serves up his helping on a plate.
Poor vicar wonders what to say.
about this stiff that’s come his way.
He’s no great speeches in reserve
just... bless a saint and damn a perv.
He settles for the standard rite
then tells the crowd they’ll be all right,
“beyond the stars lie happy lands,
so love your neighbour all shake hands.”
Corpse’ brother sitting cap in hand,
chief mourner in this dismal band,
now ponders on the decent wait
before a widow has a date.
Just wants to get her into bed
but cash and sex means getting wed,
been dodging that since leaving school
concludes that life is Goddamn cruel.
Sister of the spurned cadaver
cannot stand all this palaver.
She didn't like the man in life,
all flashy cars and tarty wife.
Deep down she’s feeling rather chuffed
for all his din he quietly snuffed.
Same cap fits the other brother,
clone of father, not his mother.
This woman weeping by the door
floats back in time to years of yore,
dreams of a lovely friend at school,
so kind and gentle fun and cool,
who shared a secret both held tight
that seemed to change him overnight.
He truly was a super lad
until abused by evil dad.
Categories:
perv, abuse, bereavement, family, humanity,
Form:
Free verse
I loved all kinds of jerks in my career.
A cute narcissist with an egoistic style.
While back decided to be engineer,
I wished that it would help me spot them from a mile.
Another was with solid principles.
Early on I should have told him to go to hell.
We studied together those disciplines.
I'd have to see him at school and at gym as well.
I wasn't strong enough to handle it.
So then instead I sparked the electricity.
Some hurry to get a grip and beat it.
Instead I stayed and lost my authenticity.
Another jerk was an old-perv-doctor.
He molested his clients with smart life advice.
It's a shame I never loved a rock star.
He would probably possess the same list of vice.
Girls, don't waste precious time on assholes,
The story goes that you'll regret it in the end.
You'll walk and surely get some burning soles,
You'll have a cat, a flower and a heart to mend.
Categories:
perv, humor, irony, men, relationship,
Form:
Lyric
Do you remember the first place we met?
I'd been out walking, and you were all wet.
Too far from home, to run for your mum,
Too fearful of strangers, inside to come.
You took to my barn, and lay in the hay,
to keep yourself warm and to hide away.
I bought some hot food and some cocoa to start,
and left them to warm your insides, and your heart.
Many would call me a perv or poof,
All I wanted to do was give you a roof.
To let you dry off, and show you no harm,
not hurt you, abuse you, or cause you alarm.
I bought you a phone, for you to ring home,
to tell your mum how far you'd managed to roam.
You told me she'd come in her car to collect,
she was angry and mad, and I would get wrecked.
If only she'd understand my intentions, my care,
but for her - I was sick - the understanding, not there.
I'd try to explain, but it wasn't so wise,
I'd look like a weirdo in that mother's eyes.
I told him to sit there, and I'd wait inside.
As I turned round, he hugged me, and deep down I cried.
I gave him a smile, and a wave; it was true,
And as he was driven away, I hurt. I was blue.
The very next day I awoke to a knock,
it was Mum and the boy, to my great shock.
She smiled, and said sorry, and I got 2 hugs that day,
one of those from a mother, whose love couldn't stray.
So now you know me, and you know of my story,
of tolerance, love, and kindness - not glory.
We're a family now, son, husband and wife,
Look past what you think - you may be ruining a life.
Categories:
perv, appreciation, care, child, forgiveness,
Form:
Free verse
There once was a president called Donald.
Who had more money than Ronald McDonald
An old perv with the lasses
who hoodwinked the masses
I cant believe america swallowed his waffle.
Inspired by the queen of the limericks Jan
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/theres_an_old_fart_in_the_white_house_867717
Categories:
perv, fun,
Form:
Limerick
If you can't keep your head when all about you are losing theirs then I don't blame you.
If you can't trust yourself because others doubt you, then allow yourself to trust the lack of trust as they do too.
If you hate waiting, then moan aloud about the wait,
or being lied about, then simply deal more lies out.
Or being hated, just give them hell and be a hater,
and not worry about looking good thus become fat and wider.
If you can't dream because you relish the nightmare,
and if thinking hurts then proudly wear that blank stare.
If you can meet with triumph and disaster,
and milk the triumph and never shut up about the disaster.
If you don't care if the truth is spoke,
then twist tales so it prevails with fools that laugh at fails.
Or watch the kids you gave life to grow up and go broke,
and call them dopes or tools fit for jails.
If you can piss away all your winnings,
on a bookies special without knowledge on what you're betting,
and lose, and go and drink away your sorrows 'til the early morning,
then cry and cry and cry 'til you dream that you want to die.
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew,
to not care about anything for however long you need to,
and fall apart when there is nothing when others would hold on,
and turn ill without will or a want to be strong.
If you can shout like a lout in a crowd with iniquity,
and walk with a King and believe to be elite arrogantly.
If you accept that both friends and foes will inevitably hurt you,
and strike first with an impromptu blow.
If all men count with you but none are louder,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute,
with 60 seconds of hardcore drug abuse,
then you'll get served what you deserve,
and which is more, you will be labelled a w**re or a perv.
"In Response To If" poetry competition by Silent One, 8/11/2018
1st place
Categories:
perv, humorous,
Form:
Free verse