Best Proctologist Poems
I was reminiscing the other day about people I've known o'er the years,
And found it strange that their names corresponded with their careers.
For instance, Joseph Carpenter was handy with hammer, nails and saw.
Clyde Barrister, famed ambulance chaser, successfully practiced law!
Art Paynter, dabbled in pornographic oils and is now confined in prison.
My dentist, Whitey Capps, takes care of my choppers as if they were his'n.
A neighbor, Semmi Riggs, is a long-haul trucker and is on the road a lot.
He married a classmate of mine, Tipsy Toper, renowned as the village sot!
An old army buddy, Hank Roper, is a cowpoke and rides the rodeo scene.
An old girl friend of mine, Freda Flick, is now starring on the silver screen.
The town ne'er-do-well, Don Heller, got religion and became a preacher.
His brother Bob (known as stuttering Bob) became an English teacher!
Willie Wrench turned out to be one of the finest Buick mechanics around,
And his wife Lila (nee Leak) is a plumber and none better is to be found.
Cyrus Cloud is working for the National Weather Service as a meteorologist,
And I hear that Buddy Butts has a thriving practice as a famed proctologist!
Frenchie Horne has his own band and I see him on the boob tube now and again.
An old pal, Gilbert Graves, is the village undertaker located at Fifth and Main.
Was it intentional or fickle fate that wedded these names to their vocation?
I reckon in a sense 'twas both due to a struggling bard's wild imagination!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2014 All Rights Reserved
Ophthalmologist
Checked eyes
Have styes
Proctologist
Drop drawers
Up yours
Plastic Surgeon
Replace
Plain face
Gastroenterologist
Pass gas
No class
Dermatologist
All sorts
Of warts
Audiologist
Can't hear
Bad ear
Dentist
No Floss
Gross dross
Psychiatrist
Your bean
Not keen
Podiatrist
Big toe
Must go
ENT Specialist
Ope' maw
Say ahhh
Allergist
Please sneeze
Don't wheeze
Cardiologist
Poor bloke
Had stroke
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2015 All Rights Reserved
Entry for Judy Konos' "Your Footle Poem" Contest
Got referred to a female Urologist
After which I needed a Psychologist
"I'm a licensed physician
Now resume your position!"
Next appointment? Her sister Proctologist
As retiring physician, allow me to give
Some suggestions on how to both doctor and live.
You have finally finished the studies required.
You're a doctor at last, but in debt deeply mired.
With degree on display, your career can begin.
After years of no income, it's time to cash in.
You will millions more make if you're not an MD,
Even if you must then a proctologist be.
Special privileges, perks, and attention demand.
And invest every cent of your savings in land.
Keep your patients in waiting rooms cooling their heels
Then insist you're so busy you're skipping your meals.
Its decor should be drab and its magazines old,
And consulting rooms bare and depressing and cold.
Give complainants placebos to run up the bill,
And then schedule more visits although they're not ill.
Tell them exercise, diet, don't smoke, and no booze.
Then ignore that yourself; do whatever you choose.
Order unneeded tests to help pay off your loan,
And when golfing or sailing, don't answer your phone.
Always scribble prescriptions to druggists confuse.
Soak the rich and the medicare system abuse.
At the hospital, patient discharges delay
So insurers must pay for additional day.
Stick your head in the doors to consulting fees earn,
And treat nurses like dummies who never will learn.
Drive a Rolls or a Bentley to yokels impress.
And to ward off malpractice suits, never confess
That your sure diagnosis or treatment was wrong.
And you must to Republican party belong.
Be a country club member to join the elite.
Have disdain for inferior people you meet.
Don't give in to temptation to patients caress.
Keep a mistress instead at a secret address.
As a doctor endeavor to give all you've got,
Then retire at age fifty and live on your yacht.
Jerry Packard was an entomologist
for which he was far from an apologist.
He's glad he faced down
his professor's frown
for refusing to become a proctologist
People laugh and make fun of me because I wear a coonskin cap.
But they'll stop laughing because I'm through taking their crap.
People say that my cap makes me look silly.
They say that it makes me look like a hillbilly.
This morning a city slicker called me a hick and he called my hound dog a mutt.
He was laughing very hard but he stopped when I put some buckshot in his butt.
He started running after I shot both of his cheeks.
He won't be able to sit down for about twelve weeks.
If you see me face to face, you may point, laugh and make fun.
But unless you want to visit a proctologist, you'd better remember that I own this shotgun.
(This is a fictional poem.)
My peach tree only had one peach and my brother decided to pick it.
I grabbed it out of his hand and you know where I decided to stick it.
My brother was really pissed.
He had to go to a Proctologist.
He took me to court and the judge ordered me to pay the doctor for removing the peach from his ass.
That made me very mad and I started giving that judge sass.
I threw a punch at the judge when he held me in contempt.
But he had a black belt in karate and now I walk with a limp.
When it came to that damn peach, I should've let my brother eat it.
This has been a bad experience and I sure as hell will never repeat it.
(This is a fictional poem)
I sincerely apologize if I seem curt.
I have a nail up my ass and it hurts.
My brat of a daughter pulled the trigger on my nailgun.
She'll be going to the wood shed for what she's done.
The nail that's up my ass is in there pretty deep.
The Proctologist laughed because he's a creep.
Since he was mean, I decided to be even meaner.
I grabbed my nailgun and put a nail in his wiener.
He got very angry and he raised his voice.
The nail is still up my ass so what I did wasn't a good choice.
This nail hurts like hell, it's like being stabbed with a knife.
I hope I don't have this nail up ass for the rest of my life.
(THIS IS A FICTIONAL POEM.)
He's back
My nemesis,
Billy Mays,
Never does he fail
To amaze
Now pushing "Zorbees"
miracle rag,
And as I watch,
I start to gag
He's taken Vince's
Sham Wow,
And made it his
Holy Cow!
He copied his ad
Near word for word
This blazing scuz-bucket,
This worthless turd
I want to order an "Awesome Auger"
And pretend to be
Billy Mays' proctologist
And clean out this
Ass's ass
I think such a plan
Is first class
I'll get a medal of honor
That's for sure
Cause any more Billy Mays
No one can endure
Can You Please Wait A Second...?
In steed of ye
mounting your stock
key high horse,
perhaps named Rock
Key, and head off...lock
stock and barrel,
who knows where,
now lemme seat chew wait
ma self, and quickly knock
out quick mention about
hour (meaning everybody
within the wide world),
and their webbed
warp and woof weave
courtesy of Father Time
analogously to a jock
key hunkering down
aiming tubby first
crossing finish line
at races, afterwards celebrate
with social feted outing, while
scheduling proctologist appointment,
et cetera, sans squeezing
late radio talk ad hoc
meeting, an
extemporaneous yet timely
lesson indirectly related
to bird dogging, i.e. migrating
fast as Glock
pistol can shoot, essentially
sound (garden) resembling
joyus honking flock
of seagulls heading
Southside Johnny
and Asbury Jukes,
and on Tortoise -
to sea dock
side of the moon
Pink Floyd attired as Teenage
Mutant Ninja Turtle,
whose schedule Nsync
with YES men hosting
showtime merely minutes away...
remember ring that char existence
enslaved to thee a bomb
been nibble atomic clock,
which device uses an electron
transition frequency went
sallying forth in
the microwave tent,
experiencing optical radiation pent
up ether, or ultra
violet region meant
for electromagnetic fervent
active spectrum, or Palestra event
of atoms comprising
Adam and the Ants
(as well all other matter)
linkedin to frequency standard for
timekeeping Strunk and White
element of style.
I should've learned french before going to a restaurant.
What I ordered there was food that I sure didn't want.
I made the mistake of ordering cerveau and escargot.
When I learned that it was brains and snails, I said that it had to go.
When I refused to eat it, the chef threw me out a window and I got a shard of it in my ass.
I went to a proctologist and he asked me five hundred bucks to remove that piece of glass.
I refused to pay it and I got thrown through a window again.
Now I have two shards of glass in my butt, I can never win.
I can no longer sit down, I have to be suspended by a winch.
If you decide to eat at that restaurant, you'd better learn french.
(This is a fictional poem.)
**** lies zing constipation
nothing to poo poo about,
cuz when bedeviled by
colorectal obstruction
without wasted doubt,
that malodorous,
malevolent malady
analogous to uranus
clogged with grout,
whereat no heroic
efforts break loose,
the severely obstructed bowel,
thus spurring determined,
desperate derriere plea
for proctologist sought
to relieve constipation
equipped with a special
"J" shaped, hooked,
and designed dowel
in an effort
to pry stoppage
jamming up human cloaca,
where rock solid stubborn
immovable turd emits foul
gaseous emanations accompanied
with ass a nine growl
followed by red hot,
fiery excruciating spasms
shooting jagged pain
inducing yours truly to access,
the werewolf within howl,
where a preference for sciatica,
would be pleasant reprieve
along heinie kin cheeky jowl,
thence finding me
resorting to peeve
hush scream therapy,
which wrought nothing,
no pain did re: leave
me bummed out bum,
but veins snapping,
popping, and crackling,
oye how aye did grieve
plus a bajillion
gallons of perspiration,
while lower gastrointestinal
agonizing torture didst cleave
entire abdominal
area please believe
without aforementioned crisis,
and feeble poem,
I could not achieve.
I had it made until my stupid wife ruined me.
I was rich until she went on a spending spree.
She spent it all before I even had the chance to stop her.
I had ten million bucks but because of her, I'm a pauper.
I was the richest man in my town but now I'm the most poor.
People are giving me funny looks because I'm buying clothes in a second hand store.
She forgot to insure the cars that she bought, even the Ferrari.
I only have ten dollars left and that jezebel isn't one bit sorry.
A tornado came last week and destroyed every vehicle that she bought.
If you're wondering if I think about strangling her, I think about it a lot.
She also spent a lot of my money on male strippers, booze and grass.
Now she's going to need a proctologist to remove my foot from her ass.
(This is a fictional poem)
Enthusiastic astronomer Phillip Jaynus
spent all his life looking at Uranus
He was also a qualified proctologist
I hope the subtle connection isn't missed!
4/13/19
Caught by the believe -
That beyond the clouds -
Roams little green men -
With magicmaker pens -
They fly through space -
Proctologist is on this case -
They beam you up -
If your name does not start with Scotty -
They will ream you're butt -
So you see -
My excuse was easy -
I told the judge my reason why I ran -
It was dark without lights -
If it were aliens instead of cops -
You woulda seen my chops
Wheeling down a pram -
Forsure , yes mam