Best Porker Poems
I have a porker as a stalker; it keeps following me down the street
I cannot talk to my friends, as it keeps oinking when I try to speak
Doesn’t it have an owner it can go home to, and as leave me alone
Once; I tried to lock it out, but, all it did on me is squeal and moan
And, its weird habit of wearing a tutu and doing its pot belly dance
If it had been potty trained, life would have been sweet, no chance
I had enough of her nicking my bed once she farted I disowned her
I stuck posters up with a photo to see if I could find her true owner
3 months later, and still no reply I started to think along other lines
So I put her on the cover of magazines dressing her up to the nines
It wasn’t long before Porker the stalker, had become a renown star
Now; Porker the stalker owns her own limo, with its own liquor bar
Are you still sticking with it here as the tale gets even more bizarre
She met a prize pig up Ohio who played guitar and was a superstar
It wasn’t long before they got wedded, and had piglets by the score
Where; at long last, Porker the stalker, was not my stalker anymore
I've a tractor in the garden and a tractor in the shed,
I've a tractor in the field and a tractor in my head,
Proud to be a country farmer, I'm outstanding in my field,
And a country farmer I will always be.
I've a plough for turning soil and a disc for planting seed,
I've got lots of cow manure for the crops on which to feed,
Cows and chickens in the barnyard and a porker in the pen,
And a pasture just as far as I can see.
I am just a country farmer, but it's paradise for me,
I am just a country farmer, but it's what I want to be,
Country farming is my future, for it's always been my past,
It is what I do that makes me truly free.
I've a little piece of heaven called a barnyard and a field,
I've a place to seek my treasure and a place where it's revealed,
Cows and chickens and a tractor, crops and pasture and a shed,
Yes, this country farming is the thing for me.
I am just a country farmer, but it's paradise for me,
I am just a country farmer, but it's what I want to be,
Country farming is my future, for it's always been my past,
It is what I do that makes me truly free.
I really should’a read the fine print when I bought a ‘micro pig’
For this porker is enormous, surely it’s not meant to grow this big!
I really should’a read the fine print when I brought an old motor car
It broke down on the way home ...oh dear it didn’t get very far
He really should’a read the fine print when his bright pink condom split
Money back if not completely satisfied – I don’t believe a word of it!
I really should’a read the fine print when I joined a get rich quick scheme
I sent off all my bank details … and found my account has been wiped clean!
Contest – Should’a read the small print Sponsored by John Lawless
04~11~16
For there abide beef, pork and chicken
and the greatest of these is bacon
hot sizzling crispy to the tongue
satiating succulently scrumptious bacon.
For bacon curries no favor
plays the field tempts the stoic and saintly
slides into gustatorial beds
romps with tomato and lettuce
hangs out with eggs, hard boiled and soft
mocks the ten condiments
bathes in the sinful seven
is prideful
lusts after
the last greed filled bite
of gluttony
provokes the envy
of slothful
greasy lust.
Ah, bacon
you grease the skids
of dietary destruction
stalk the fat cells
of cellulitic cravings
tempt the tendrils of scent
with your aphrodisial aroma
inducing a pheromonal fling.
Oh bacon
you promiscuous panderer
curvaceous little porker
I believe
I trust
I lust
in and after your truth.
John G. Lawless
©11/2/2019
Best to get there early and don’t forget some food and drink.
It’s Friday again and time to celebrate.
It’s hat week, Carmen Miranda’s birthday, toga, toga, toga.
We all had another week taking care of 80 children at the local mental hospital and anything one could think of was the theme of celebration.
The only difference between “US” and “THEM” was we carried the keys.
Circa 1970’s and The Rocky Horror Picture Show so if you hadn’t had something too bad and was sitting on a tree limb in the big tree on the corner, come 11:00 pm grab your paper, rice, watergun and toast.
Off to the movies we would go dressed in our favorite costume.
Summer time and the living is easy.
The pit was dug and a pig on the spit.
We all came the night before and took turns rotating the pig at a slow and careful pace.
If you spent the night, we brought blanket and pillow and slept under the stars by the pig fire.
We all participated in the watermelon seed spitting contest.
Saturday night was barbeque and bluegrass night at Buddy’s.
The Knoxville Grass, BBQ and pitchers of beer to share unless UT was playing.
Then Friday night we’d celebrate at Buddy’s.
We finally had to faced we were addicted to food.
We small band of addicts branched off to middle of the week gatherings with irreverent honoring to St. Porker of Assisi.
All meeting in a kitchen and cooking at the same time.
Making “Gone with the Wind” to “Away with the Breeze and someone wearing a pair of curtains they had looked lovely in the week before and each acting out a different character.
Then children came and jobs changed and some moved away.
Looking back, it was the best of times and the best of food and friends.
feeling holy every time i sit on the ring of the toilet
labeled church for every one to see
my soul is less than clean as I lower the lid
to read the brand of the unit
porker I flush.
and if in a hurry Tito will do the job
as american standard is occupied.
hope the driving force of the world
a mouse dropped in a vat of water with no chance of escape
circling the bucket to no avail will let itself drown
at the last minute picked by its tail to be saved
learned hope as the cruelty of scientists under the pretense of knowledge
experiment with emotions and reactions
and later back with the same ordeal the animal will swim forever in hope of rescue
religions an easy carrot for the lost
believer atheist or agnostic no matter as without hope the planet will be immoral
but the flora with the goal to devour it all as it bleeds and recoils if threatened
I hear the scream of the lettuce I eat
and no hesitation to skin a rabbit as it's it or me
my church is the potty for every one to see as porker I flush the deal to be on earth.
San-Goanna Blue
Morning Halliwell are you right? {rhymer halliwell is 85}
or have your toes tucked up so tight,
are you with us or cantered through,
beyond the vale Saint Peters Zoo,
no brown snakes there tonight?
Or are you dancing an Irish jig,
With some well fed porker pig,
And playing snooker too,
Or bilious Kangaroo,
and on into the bloody night,
with Sand-Goannas what a sight
and lacy Monitors joined in too,
Brownie snake said bugger off Blue,
that Goanna just might bite...
Don Johnson
SHOT AT…
Yes I went shooting with some city fellows to the Moonie
We got a place to shoot that had the wild pigs
So we are walking through a crop of something green and blooming
When a porker Boar he charged me, me feet went jig a jig
So I bounced a little 22 bit of lead off his forehead
He kept a coming, so I dodged to get away
The bullets kept a coming me and the pig kept a dodging
I was zigzagging dodging bullets till the pig he got away
So I said a few words to them the shooters
But they hung back to argue, if the safety was on
Bang , don’t know how I missed you said ol Brownie
It was pointed at you I fired but I was wrong?
So I stayed behind them after that hehe….Don Johnson
In the seventies i made the mistake of going bush with two city fellas
out near Moonie camping on a property shooting pigs.
So we are out for awhile walking in this timbered area and suddenly I'm
being charged
by a big boar pig so I bounced a poor little .22 bullet off his
forehead and only annoyed him.
So i'm getting out of the way of the pig, to my horror the pig is
chasing me at the gallop,
the two are trying to help me by shooting at the pig from behind the
pig, i'm running a zigzag
race to dodge the bullets never mind the bloody pig. The pig escaped.
Then i'm walking along the two twerps drop back
arguing , "Its still loaded the safetys not on "I hear BANG don't
know how i missed you Don said Brownie.
Sort of put me off Pigs for awhile.
I come from Dirranbandi and use the sun in the northern sky as a
reference to know which way i'm heading.
always, its how the old time bushman kept track of where he was, a
mile this way etc in your head back track to go home.
When you are young its the thrill of the hunt, old buggers lose interest hey:)
how about that
cheers mate
Don
Five fat Porkers
Five fat Porkers, in a Pig Sty
Eating Swill and Cabbages,
Grunting with a me oh my.
One of these Pigs called Emily,
Was taken out one day,
Now delicious rashers of Bacon,
Three cheers and a hip hooray.
Four fat Porkers, in a Pig Sty
Eating Swill and Cabbages,
Grunting with a me oh my.
One of these Pigs called Reginald,
Was taken out one day,
To make some succulent Sausages,
Three cheers and a hip hooray.
Three fat Porkers, in a Pig Sty
Eating Swill and Cabbages,
Grunting with a me oh my.
One of these Pigs called Millicent,
Was taken out one day,
To star in a Roast Hog Supper,
Three cheers and a hip hooray.
Two fat Porkers, in a Pig Sty
Eating Swill and Cabbages,
Grunting with a me oh my.
One of these Pigs called Albert,
Was taken out one day,
To craft some joints of juicy Pork,
Three cheers and a hip hooray.
One fat Porker, all alone in a Pig Sty
Eating Swill and Cabbages,
Grunting with a cry and a sigh.
One fat Sow called Rita,
Was taken out one day,
Put in the field with the Gloucester’s,
Three cheers and a hip hooray.
Forkaroon : I hear we are in for a big treat tonight forksie
Forksie: Oh Ya ! I was hoping for something exciting and juicy
Forkaroon: I'm going to give you a little hint darlin, it once was alive
Forksie: hmm, that rules out cheese and dandelion greens then
Forkaroon : Your such a silly one Forksie, salivate mama cuz its comin'
Forksie: you mean it has legs ! Ah, I better go polish my glow then
Forkaroon: its a big fat juicy steak forksie, beef was on sale this week
Forksie: you mean to tell me that porker bought the biggest steak?
Forkaroon: it was so big he had to strap it to the roof of his car
Forksie: Oh my, we are going to die two happy forks tonight
Forkaroon: Before we get all bent out of shape, you wanna spoon?
Forksie: I thought you'd never ask.
December 12, 2022
A strange woman blasted into the family reunion
Came in loud and crass; obnoxious. Showing off.
No one knew her.
I was selected to ask her to leave.
Mom! She said.
It was one of my foster children from way back when.
I did not recognize her.
She had been a porker but she had slimmed up
And gotten two feet taller.
She picked me up off my feet, hugging me with a huge hug.
My husband stood up, concerned when she carried me to the old person’s table.
“Veronica!” he said, acting delighted.
I was not fooled; he never liked this one.
“I can give you some diet tips,” she said, setting me down in the middle of the desserts.
I have lost sixty-seven pounds," she told him. "Looks like you
found most of them."
In fear, other relatives began to leave the reunion.
Our family is full people with tempers.
No one wanted to hear more and they forgot I had married a pussy cat.
I began devouring a dainty sliver of coconut cake.
“Sixty eight calories,” she declared firmly.
I had a piece of pecan pie in my mouth now.
“Sugar entices cancer to consume our colon,” she said.
I knew I looked as happy as my husband who flounced off.
I picked up a spoon and began digging into the pan of lemon delight.
I guess the more nervous I become, the more I eat.
Veronica was rattling off warnings, advice and diet tips the whole time.
No one had ever cleared out our family reunion this fast.
I kind of admired her new-found confidence.
Porker flies on the most amazing steampunk pig.
Little things happen, and no one makes them big.
Gears and bells are hanging off his snout and hoofs.
He makes some grunts, but no meows or whoofs.
She is such a pretty porker the old sow said.
I thought you were too old for swine, said cousin Fred.
I may be tough, but I am certainly not dead,
She is a gorgeous gobbler, the old sow said.
Would you say she’s gourmet? Asked Aunt Sue.
She has been the head hog in the pen since ninety-two.
I don’t want to go there, her dad said, how about you?
Don’t get me into this said Uncle Pete, who was afraid of Sue.
The piglet in question was coming into her own.
She knew her curly tail was attractive as any rooster’s comb.
She rooted and tooted and flashed her sweet rump around.
Nearly doing in the males, who were looking away at the ground.
“Delilah! Stop that!” Yelled an old hog from inside the house.
You are flashing and flaring, tantalizing the boars with your louse.
Delilah smiled, knowing full well she was the best bacon intention.
Not understanding what it meant, but happy to receive full attention.
By 12
By 12 I was
fully grown. My height was
the envy of
the short arses in
my classes. I wasn’t a
porker like
some ... I was
spared fat jokes. My level of
pituitary activity was, well,
excellent. Hormone increases were
too. Ejaculated more than
most. My secondary sex characteristics gave me
some respect. I was the first in
my class to
break their
voice. My thin mo caused awe in
the hairless. Deductive reasoning was
special. My systematic problem finding the answers to
things had triple the
different possibilities thought about, mulled, prior to
the answers being chosen. I was the king of
abstract thoughts, and that
riddled others with
confusion and
anger. It was easier for me to
manipulate abstract concepts than
concrete ones. Hours on
end I’d get lost in
idealistic contemplation of
hypotheticals until I was
clapped out
of it. I spent a lot of
time lost in
identity formation. I soaked in
everything. Long-term memory
ached. I praised daily the
elaboration added to
encoding strategies. I avoided happily interactions with
most. Opposite-peers I avoided
happily. I was
undateable.