Best Pigsty Poems
As dawn starts to streak across the sky
heralding in the new born day.
Feisty rooster already perched on the wall
giving forth with all his might, he crows.
Sleepy hens, ducks and geese scat for worms.
Low moos emitting from the milking parlour
mingling with the sucking sounds of machines
as they gather the rich creamy milk in containers.
Banging of impatient hooves from the shire horses
hungry for their grain, tossing heads and stamping,
loud neighs and whinnies fill the early dawn.
Soon they will be at work ploughing and farrowing fields.
Farmhouse door opens smell of eggs and bacon wafting,
farmer's wife emerges carrying pails heavy with slops.
As she nears the pigsty the grunts and squeals grow
barging, pushing as they search for tasty scraps.
A caterwaul of noise from the rookery deafening,
as they wheel and spin around the yard thieving.
Slowly as the animals return to the sweet meadows
life settles back to normal, until tomorrows dawn.
written 09/15/2013
contest Nature
Categories:
pigsty, animal, farm,
Form:
Light Verse
The time when Juno excruciated was
Due to Salome against the Theban blood,
As many times was shown to be the cause,
Atamante became so insane and crud,
That when his wife with two sons saw
To go on and have both hands full could,
Shouted: “Let us lay nets, so I can draw
The lioness and lion cubs when pass”;
And then he stretched more than one cruel claw,
Catching just the one called Learco, alas,
And revolved and stroke him against a stone;
She then drowned herself with others at last.
And when the godsend lower had then flown
The Trojan height which before had dared all,
So that with his reign the king too was blown,
Sad Ecuba, poor and captive to bawl,
After she saw Polissena was died,
And of hers Polidoro on shore haul
Of sea she gloomy was aware beside,
Frantic then became and barked as a mutt;
That much the pain just made hers mind so tied.
Never Theban or Trojan furies but
Were seen to be with any wild so much,
Not hitting beasts, nor human limbs to cut,
As much as I saw on two faint souls clutch,
Which biting run just quite in the same way
A pork running when the pigsty opens such.
One reached Capocchio, and as to slay
Rapid snapped at his neck, so that, its pull,
Constrained his belly to rub ground and lay.
And the Aretine who remained, trembling full
Told me: “Gianni Schicchi is the sprite,
And goes around treating others as a fool”.
“Oh!”, I told, “if the other won’t bite
Your body, then please try to tell me
Who he is, before he leaves this site”.
And he: ”That the ancient soul has to be
Of wicked Mirra, who in the past became
Lover to hers father, doing love as spree.
She went to sin with him seeking hers aim,
Forging herself in the someone else shape,
As the other one going there, with blame,
To gain the woman grace and then to rape,
Forged himself Buoso Donati guy,
False testifying to the will reshape”.
(continues next)
Categories:
pigsty, fantasy,
Form:
Terza Rima
Christmas Day has arrived; the thought fills me with such dread
For over twenty years they’ve come to me; it's doing in my head!
I get up at the crack of dawn to get the turkey in the oven
Gran moans about my cooking – she belongs in a witches’ coven
I always arrange the festive table last thing on Christmas Eve
I don’t sit next to granny; her table manners make me heave!
My sister is so overweight; you should see the size of her fanny
She belches loudly when she eats, so I’ll sit her next to granny
The taxi arrives at twelve o’clock and I crack open the sherry
When they sit down at the table they are starting to get merry
I slave over a hot stove; no one moves they act too grand
I’ve given up asking for help, they treat me so off-hand
Well this year I’ve rebelled and put laxatives in their soup
I’ll smile secretly when off to the toilet they will all troop
The soup has been devoured and I clear away the plates
When the laxatives take effect they’ll be in dire straits!
The turkey has been carved; all the vegetables are piled high
Uncle Albert grosses out; he needs a trough in a pigsty!
Turkey, and all the trimmings they will quickly devour
Granny moans about the sprouts she said that one was sour
I quietly sit seething whilst they get all get steaming drunk
Uncle Albert farts loudly – he’s worse than a blinking skunk!
Christmas pudding is eaten, followed by juicy mince pies
Sister Annie stuffs her face, as more fat piles on her thighs
Single handily I clear the table, and then we open up the gifts
It costs me an utter fortune; you should have seen their lists
Annie has knitted me the most disgusting baggy jumper
I smile sweetly and thank her, but I really want to thump her!
At four o’clock the taxi comes and they all go off home
I sit by the fire with a cup of tea, I’m so glad to be alone
Next year it’s going to be different; I’m going to go away
Booked a luxury cruise – I’ll be abroad on Christmas Day!
C form contest
Sponsored by Broken Wings
12~30~16
Categories:
pigsty, christmas, family, food, humorous,
Form:
Couplet
Verbum Caro, Translation of Pierre Emmanuel’s Verbum Caro by T. Wignesan
Glory to the resuscitated Lord
Incarnate cry of the Flesh becoming Verb
The body is not the place of death
Where the soul feels alright despite revulsion
He who holds his nose
While passing his house full of droppings
Whatever be said : My flesh my pigsty
It is he the tomb requiring cleansing
A body all armed comes out of me
From the invincible nakedness
Fomenting peace in the midst of war
He’s of an innocent cast of mind
As virile as the sun
His worth illuminating the earth
The world is set on his head
The man straightens up It is midday
(from Les Jours de la Passion, first published by the Abbaye de la Pierre-qui-Vire by the Editions diu Zodiaque, 1962)
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2014
Categories:
pigsty, religion,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
The grumpy principal athwart the class
is walloping the learner ad infinitum
with his computer cable,
and screeching his lungs out
his wrath and his tranquilities;
he says she’s late for school yet again.
Madly she pulls across the desks;
pleads for pity in pigsty floors,
whilst he despite his heavy paunch
chases and corners her.
He whips and whips the weeping non-plussed
girl till the cable slips in his hand. Her tears are
like explosion of waterfall in her cheeks and her pain
still so fresh:
He picks it up and pursues the poor girl
who endeavours to escape from him. She
jumps and climbs atop the desks on her way
to the classroom door but quickly plummets to
the floor to receiving another angry wallop.
As hard as he can he strikes the poor girl till his
hairless bald is dripping wet with sweat. The
learner’s heart is a watershed of fear words
can’t even describe. His visage is sadistic and
turns into something I never liked or loved…
Well, it is over now and the poor girl is
sobbing sadly in the library,
Yet the principal plunges and slouches
over his circling chair in his office. His lips mumbling,
pooped out –In slight remorse of the cruel hiding
he’d given the poor learner; and lugubriously he envisions
the twinge she’s had to bear, but it ain’t no use
for what’s done is done.
Categories:
pigsty, fear,
Form:
Narrative
Evading feral branches and pools of stagnant stuff.
I'm taking the short way home ,
Greasy grass and soaking anarchist weeds saturate my feet,
I'm frozen to the bone all to take the short way home.
Through hawthorn trees With vampire's teeth,
Whose thorns delight in biting soft drunken meat.
Their existence justified beneath the silent moonlight
And soon I am out moaning bloodied and shivering
To start the long traipse through dank sludge
My shoes disappear beneath the earth to be reunited with the land
So here I stand bleeding and barefooted.
With the frost rattling my bones,
All to take the short way home.
Is that the wind or some ancient spirit weeping With laughter.
In the distance beneath the shadow of a bungalow
I see the wall I must scale
Each step is heroic an act bravery
That only foolish men with frostbitten toes can only know
Is it hour or ten minutes I cannot tell
Trudging through no man's land this self inflicted hell
My clothes are destroyed head to toe in smelly stuff
As if I was wrestling on a pigsty floor with a horny and frustrated boar
Oh how I could sing for joy as my muck encrusted hands finally carcass
The cold hard cement of my neighbours wall
With the will of Genghis kahn or one those ancient warriors.
I heave my aching frame over thinking victory is mine,
Only to hear the crunch of shattering glass and I scream words unsuitable for delicate ears,
For I landed in a bin of empty wine bottles and rusty tin
I hear a click and see a porch light been turned on,
"whose out there I got a gun"
"don't worry about it"i nearly cry
"it's just your average drunken fool
taking short way home.
Categories:
pigsty, drink, journey, winter,
Form:
Free verse
Pyrrhic revenge
They’d eaten his books, his clothes and lean paper money,
Whetted their teeth against his coins and an old jar of honey.
They’d blown cold air nightly, as they gnawed whilst he slept,
Eating bits of his extremities that lay in the path they crept.
No out-of-bounds, for every nook they could roam,
In his one room shack - the pigsty he called home,
Pooing on his bed and table; sometimes, boldly in his stare,
And, not inside his drawers, pots and pockets, did they spare.
By heavens, for such a man in his youthful prime,
There was none dirtier; whose home had more grime,
The constant reek of gunge - what better invitation,
To every pest; flying or crawling, for cohabitation?
He’d hoped to kill the poverty that to him, had seemed to glue
With the job for which he’d been invited for an interview,
Alas! His file jacket was barely held by its leather threads,
And his results and certificates; partly eaten, were in shreds.
Enough! he’d thought, and bought a mousetrap,
With smoked fish bait, he’d soon heard the trap’s first clap,
Of the fathers, mothers and offsprings, he’d caught one,
With this and others after, he’d planned his vengeful fun.
With glee, to the street he’d stepped with the vermin,
The fate of which, only he could now determine,
He’d doused it with petrol, amidst street kids cheers,
But oblivious of his folly, and fate’s inaudible jeers.
With a single match strike, it was engulfed in flames,
And what happened next, he had none to apportion blames,
For, in blind anguish, the rat had dashed back into his room;
The house had charred, smoking with a mile high plume!
Categories:
pigsty, loss,
Form:
Rhyme
Farmyard Chat.
Cluck, cluck says Mrs Hen as the farmyard comes to life.
Moo, moo says Big Brown Cow as she spots the farmers wife.
AH, she'll be coming a milking then send us out to graze
with Sheep as they awake from sleep
it's how we spend our days.
Oink, oink says Big Fat Pig, at least you're out all day.
I'm stuck here in this pigsty with muck to wallow in and play.
Moo, moo says Big Brown Cow, why do you complain
at least you have a shelter if it begins to rain.
Baa,baa the Sheep awake and farmer shouts, Bess come yield.
She's the dog that guides us out the farmyard to top field.
All day we'll stay cows with sheep will graze.
No matter what the weather is like, we're sometimes left for days.
But we hear the hens a clucking and squawking on the farm
tractor toiling all day long turning soil as seeds they sow
but that's just farmyard life the only life we know.
From Baa, Baa Sheep, Cluck, Cluck Hen, Oink,Oink Pig
and Moo,Moo Big Brown Cow.
Categories:
pigsty, addiction, farm, kids,
Form:
Rhyme
Around the room I look today,
I see that things are all array.
Messes here and messes there,
Everything is everywhere.
Disorder on the tile floor,
Dirty fingers on the door.
Balls of dust under the bed,
Junk is strewn in the shed.
Cobwebs hang in the corner of the room,
Never knocked down by the kitchen broom.
Heaps of clothes piled up high,
Everything looks like a filthy pigsty.
Dishes left where they do not go,
Food left out for mold to grow.
The beautiful house looks all forlorn,
Even the curtains are badly torn.
A sloth lives in this house you know,
For no one else would leave it so.
Categories:
pigsty, places, sad, house, house,
Form:
Rhyme
Chasing the Goodlife
Traveling far in packed trains
Wonder why I can’t see sky
Narrow lanes, pigsty
Close my eyes to begging kids
Needy, feeling within me.
CITY LIFE
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
Date: 2.11.2020
Categories:
pigsty, city, life,
Form:
Sedoka
The sow beauty queen’s
favorite color is money green
The cloven jaw cutie’s
favorite sound is “cha-ching”
Miss Piggy Lips loves how the cash registers
throughout the land constantly rings
That jade oinkment noise
is a pigmentary salve to her greedy soul
She’s got a glut appetite for mo’ and mo’
Her imperial motto is:
“Mo’ money means mo’ toga rest,
and much less queen bee stress”
This regal swine loves to sit
in her towering pleasure palace pigpen,
and peso whine
and ruble dine
Miss Piggy Lips,
with the Pillsbury hips,
enjoys wallowing in the miry green dough
Mudslinging filthy lucre nods covetously so
Miss Piggy Lips,
with the greasy palm grip,
silver tongue yields coin swallowing squeals
Jade oinkment noise forfeits her unpaid bills
This oral apothecary fatty substance
is pocketbook soothing to the queen Midas soul
Gold pursed lip smacking
is how this triple jowl lady low down dirty roll
Those hog heaven eyes
got them snout gobbled green eggs
gulp hasty safely cracking
Her pigmentary belly rub etiquette
is sop share burp lacking
As those rotund royalties
never piggy bank lessen one lil’ bit
Jade oinkment noise
is very spit pernicious green
Pigmentary salve for the thin-skinned cries
of the profiteering unclean
Dyed paper lust has an emerald sheen
Phat bags under dollar sign eyes
be the makeup blush
for the Oval weight sow beauty queen
Miss Piggy Lips,
with the mint green painted toenails,
she loves the excess gossip that dirty tales sell
Flop sweat sleeping
in her palace penthouse pigsty,
she snore ignore the kingdom’s po’ travails
Wrapping herself in a muddy blanket of lies,
surrounding her obese body
with a methane swarm of toady tongue flies
Miss Piggy Lips,
the dung awful smell
coming from that
jade oinkment perfume trail
is just too much nasal pain to inhale
It’s so sickening to brain fart expel
Fat chance the stench makes anyone well
Categories:
pigsty, funny, humorous, parody, satire,
Form:
Ode
You're a little piggy
Thick and round and stout
Little curly tail
Little piggy snout.
Miggy you're my piggy
My pink flower bud
Always getting dirty
Rolling in the mud.
You're a pretty piggy
With a bow on top
Snorting in the pigsty
Gobble down the slop.
You're my Miggy-piggy
Loving as a pup
We will treat you nicely
Then we'll eat you up.
Categories:
pigsty, animal, kids, funny, humorous,
Form:
Rhyme
A herd of pigs was locked in the walls,
They can't go over to see the outside truth
And can't make a free walk
Did they go to their owner for asking Why?
The owner said: There was real happiness in the pigsty
You think! The owner explained: plenty of food and drinks
Provided to you always with care, when you guys enjoy
A sweet snoring sleep inside
Comparing to the birds flying in the sky
The poor alien species have to make restless fly!
Because they are Not blessed to have such a life
As a pig might, they are the most unfortunate instead
You are the happiest piglets worldwide!
You even don't need any truth, trust me!
Such a life you've had is both happy and luxurious
What you need is to roughly drink and eat
Then stay quietly in your pigsty for a nice sleep
However, one thing you must remember
To Make sure everything is right and proper
And also used to listen to my order! Go! drink and eat!
I will take full responsibility for all the matters
You see! Who can have such happiness in the world?
Only you, you unique pigs!
Categories:
pigsty, drink, fate, flying, freedom,
Form:
Verse
Sometimes I Gotta Laugh, So I Don't Cry
Am I the punch line for life’s cruel joke?
Bad luck follows me, don’t ask me why
Oh geez, I think I’m gonna need a smoke
Moved to a small town to meet some nice folk
One said, "Come on over for some apple pie!"
I came home to my belongings, all gone or broke
Sometimes I gotta laugh, so I don't cry
After cleaning the inside, as it was a pigsty
I found the outside to be covered in yolk
A house in what kind of town did I buy!
Am I the punch line for life’s cruel joke?
The next morning to a new challenge, I awoke
A tornado had come down from the sky
Through my new houses roof was a fallen oak
Bad luck follows me, don’t ask me why
My humor has gone from jovial to wry
As I tried to relax in the tub for a soak
Snow came through the roof hole I patched *Sigh*
Oh geez, I think I’m gonna need a smoke
After earthquakes, termites, an angry cowpoke
I thought the end to my pitfalls was certainly nigh
Should have knocked on wood or thought before I spoke
I sit alone with no toilet paper, not even one ply
Sometimes I gotta laugh….
November 15, 2022
Pick-A-Title, Vol 33 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
Categories:
pigsty, humor,
Form:
Rondeau Redouble
Dreams, my only escapisms
No more realisms or academisms
Only altruisms and fairyisms
There, where my love lies in mysticisms!
Dreams, made of your essence
I become there not a butterfly
But a moth craving for luminescence
Wild and free, as pig in a pigsty!
Dreams, the only place where I can let go
And speak of all that has never been said
All that pain in my veins which made me an albino
All gets drained away, as it had been soothsaid!
Dreams, my own escapisms
To run away from reality
A harsh and cruel monstrosity
Made up of your aching absenteisms!
Categories:
pigsty, happiness, people, sad,
Form:
Quatern