Best Roto Poems


Premium Member Joe the Plumber

Joe The Plumber announced he was runnin' fer Congress the other day!
Congratulations, Joe!  You the man!  Fer you I shout, "Hooray!"
Tell 'em like it is as you did with Obama - show 'em you won't be outdone!
And, Joe, take yer plumbers' kit - you'll need it to repair the damage done!

Include screwdrivers to tighten the screws on higher taxes and spendin',
And yer biggest wrench to shut off the flow of governmental lendin'!
Take yer solderin' arn so as to solidify warm relationships with yer peers,
And a pipe cutter to cut off zany filibusterin' that is tiresome to yer ears!

You'll need a hundred rolls of duct tape to stem the flow of inane babble,
And gallons of Liquid Plummer to unclog the stalemate of that useless rabble!
A good pipe wrench will come in handy to tighten the discipline in that 'joint',
And a twelve-foot stepladder to rise above that rotten mob to make yer point!

Joe, show 'em what real 'change' is meant to be with a new 'shower' of hope!
Flush political correctness down the john that's gotten us on this slippery slope!
Be sure to take yer roto-rooter and clean the sewer that is Washington, DC!
Use yer most powerful hose to flush the whole mucked-up mess out to sea!

Robert L. Hinshaw,CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Categories: roto, funny, political,
Form: Rhyme

Noises In My Head

Unless you understand ,
What it's like to have noises inside your head 
Loud sometimes buzzing ,always keeping beat.
They say to have tinnitus is temporary you see
But when I have these noises, they envelop me.               

Lose my concentration, 
Cannot sit and think.
Want them to stop buzzing. 
Like cicadas on a tree. 
Constantly building intensity and force.

I feel that there will come a day
When I stand some where and scream
Tell each and ever person
To remove the sounds I hear
For once nothing would be good.

I know it's my condition
To listen every day 
To buzzing crackling noises
That never go away.
If I'm lucky they diminish. 

There not as loud as some
Days that had me crying
Wanting just to run
This is my affliction 
I battle every day. 

Because I let a surgeon
Roto root my head
He was supposed to fix my sinus
Not turn on headphones
Buzzing every day.
Categories: roto, dark, depression, freedom, stress,
Form: Narrative

Roto Rooter

waved away from certain topics
Yolanda and her Singing Saw blade
captured the intellectual integrity
of a generation in readjustment
freedom springs only from freedom kids
so lock your shields and set your pikes
and whatever else unmasks the poseurs
making mischief upon civilization
with zero police penetration
weighed and calibrated by the
by the US Bureau of Insanity
warned by the masked men at Masked Men U.
we'll find out if your daddy raised a fool
putting on a carefree face
clinging to childhood like a lost puppy
once again it's political suicide everywhere
the archetypes are tramping
through my head like Hitlerjugen
convulsed in the Little Death championship
strutting and hooting for a mate
will today's monster be tomorrow's arbiter of grace
Godzilla was eventually tamed was he not
he now does handyman work
and can come around some time
and get that squeak out of your door
that feudal ignorance and superstition
start with whatever impedes your mind
laughter will watch your back
cognition is a word game 
rally and carry the colors with insolence 
like a glowing catalytic converter 
streaking across the endless night
distant from instinct like a horizon
illuminating a physics of the psyche
alive with maladapted ardor
like a dynasty of serial plagiarists
what then exactly is attention
news flash we are way past neolithic
up where the power meets the grid
if your point of observation is outlawed
only the involuntary spasms will remain
and a persistent mania for theology
to be dissected like laboratory toads 
and poked with battery wires
where pickpockets with scissors
leave your pants a bit breezy
while clicking the mouse button of God
in a well orchestrated decoy fiasco
a talent show for the inept
tonight we have a knockout lineup
with lots of orange explosions
horrendous vs. hellacious
mastodon hair from the freezer
slapped on the bald spots
by a rapidly wilting imagination 
strumming its ukelele in a hammock
burnt to a crisp in a flaming car wash
his soul finally attained its freedom
such as it was soot and ashes by then



From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
Artist Portfolio: http://walteralter.byethost32.com/
Categories: roto, how i feel, integrity,
Form: Free verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Dios Ayudame

Señor ayudame a sanar mi corazon
pues en este momento esta lleno de dolor
me enamoré de una mujer sensacional
creí que ella seria una mujer muy especial

le entrege todo mi corazon sin condiciones
con cartas de amor le llené mas de mil renglones
ahora solo estoy con mis dolores
no supo amarme todo fue ilusiones

ayudame mi Dios a ser fuerte en estos momentos
a poder sacarla de mis pensamientos
ella quiere a otro hombre me lo dijo claramente
ella lo ama y mi amor no fue suficiente

ahora estoy triste y abatido por todo esto
mi corazon se siento roto y vacio por dentro
tu sabes lo tanto que la amo asi que una cosa te pido
que si no puede amarme que pueda yo ser un gran amigo

y si ella no ha de ser para mi entonces cambia lo que siento
transformando este amor en un cariño puro y tierno
pues no quiero seguir asi y si tu quieres le paro y ya no le intento
no me importa si la amo con toda mi vida solo quiero hacer lo correcto
Categories: roto, faith, lost love, me,
Form: Rhyme

First Person Pooter


The first derriere shot,
that killed everyone’s appetite,
came from a second-rate, 
light tipping looter

A no-class hothead bum,
who had bun fiddy no-good burger 
burglar instincts

Amateur night out
introduced a new bottom bang-bang 
beatnik on the back end drum — 

A queasy gut alley cat
addicted to 
	       the sugar:
	white powdered yum-yum
Twitchy turned into a bad olfactory rat,
when he got glutty on the job ...
and belly forgot to pack his Tums

Intestinal spastic shock
sent the masked night hooter
crooning outhouse slop jar 
bullet belch serenades:
Involuntary gastro scattershots

First person pooter,
behind-the-back six-grunt shooter
Separating good friends and loved ones
from their paid ambience indulgence

First person pooter,
fast sphincter sewer hole Roto-rooter
Giving fatal flatulent body shots:
a culinary coroner table experience — 

Breath held, back bent ... restroom sent
Unfiltered air 
on a cadaver nose,     dead zone blast
Collecting all fine dining tips,
with a rancid mist that withers grass

Amateur Rooti-toot Tooter
got a bad air attitude
Graduated last 
in How-to-be-a-Crook class

Now he’s Number One Most Wanted
First person pooter
Cold dish crook with blazing cheek guns — 
He’s such a quick draw
backdoor shooter
Categories: roto, allusion, fun, humor, imagery,
Form: Burlesque

Premium Member Electronic Peddlers

A Roto-dent toothbrush of mine
Once said “Where the heck did you dine?’
there’s bits of Swiss chard
Next too white fried cod
And pumpkin seeds by your canine?

Just then the cell phone ding-a-lings
calls out “I’ve got just the thing!’
that new water pick
will soon do the trick
“Howdy-Do DING-A-LING-ling?”
Categories: roto, funny,
Form: Limerick


La Ovejita Negra

Fui la ovejita negra 
desde chiquita, eso me dijeron.
Todo comenzó cuando mis sueños
murieron. 

Muchas veces por las noches
despertaba llorando, sufrí en 
silencio y seguí callando.
 
Mi carita sucia para todos la que
la vieron guardaba secretos que
jamás se descubrieron. 

Fui creciendo y mis complejos
también crecían y de tanto sufrir
quise hasta quitarme la vida pero 
Dios todo poderoso no dejo que me sucediera.

Me enamore de la soledad, hasta 
esclava de ella me hice; por conocer 
tanta maldad a nadie se lo dije. 

Dios me acompaño todos mis días y me
libro del mal que desde pequeña vivía, 
él no abandona aquel que es devoto y 
cura las heridas del corazón que esta roto.

Hay quien dice; ¿Con tantos dones porque
tanta desquicia? Esa pregunta solo la hace 
aquel que por suerte nunca anduvo en mis 
zapatos ni quiso entender jamás lo que hoy 
en poesía relato.
Categories: roto, life, me, nostalgia, sorrow,
Form: Bio

Cannabis Sativa Mini Seedy Saga

(cuz ma life iz such a drag...
this toke kin “FAKE” hemp  
pyre aye roll out to you dear reader).

As a double jointed mathematical abbot 
and amateur chemist 
   specializing in cannabinoids
   my favorite delta-9-tetra
   hydrocannabinol (THC), 

   isolated and synthesized in 1964
weeding thru bathroom rag 
   while athwart the potty
   i.e. measuring adequate perforated 
   square roto root er, sans 
   regular toilet tissue paper 
   prior to completing important 

   private business matter 
   on the sacred porcelain chamber pot
Mary Jane made a token appearance, 
   and boy she looked smoke kin hot
asking if I wanna marry (Jane) her attired 
   in drag at a joint where Billy Bong  

   banged on by the hands of 
   a phenomenal drummer 
   taut as a hemp knot
with music in his blood 
   while blowing  fractal rings – holy Scott
the immediate utterance, 

   and rather creative bon mot
found me stock still like stone wall Jackson, 
   who unfortunately got deprived a hit, 
   nonetheless got shot
unwittingly by his own (confederate troops), 
   whose demise an awful blot

per southern cause during 
   the Civil War and if anachronism
   to receive medicinal aide available 
   instead of primitive treatment he got
(as well other wounded soldiers 
   of misfortune on the battlefield), 
 
   whose faith the any almighty power 
   could do little to save their roach invested lot
yet availing my imagination 
   to twist time like that Mobius strip 
 mortally wounded rebels and Yankees 
   free from facing death on a cot
might be successful hemp 

   entrepreneurs cultivating a little spot
of land hemp would outstrip cotton 
   as king as export to trot
orange you glad I avoided 
   the analogy with a kumquat?
Categories: roto, 12th grade, 9th grade,
Form: Free verse

The Chimerical Swan

Dejaste una cicatriz en mi corazón
Eres de mis sueños la desolación 
Con tus recuerdos me tormentas
Que son enraizados en mi pecho como saetas.
Te amaré perennemente
con mi corazón roto para siempre.
Me hiciste un fantasma
Cuyo de amor anhelo es un asma,
Suspiros escarchados 
En los cuellos soplados
De mis amantes
Mis consolantes
De mi corazón
Un hielo quebrado
Circundado 
Por el tifón.
De mis escombros se alimenta el cisne del amor quimérico que te busca en las tierras desoladas de despego, regando sus surcos con tu rigidez y escarcha que se apoderó de mi corazón.
Categories: roto, heartbreak, lost love, love,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Good Mechanic

A doctor is just like a good mechanic but unless your body is broken down, there's no need to panic. Avoid unnecessary trips to a dealership, some diagnostic tests are only a rip. Be an advocate for your own health. You'll save some bucks and add to your wealth. Pay attention to fluids as they hold the key to maintaining the body's integrity. Strive to keep the engine clean, avoid dust and debris and eat mostly green. When feeling sluggish and unable to accelerate, replace those spark plugs, don't just wait. You want the blood to flow free, roto-rooter those arteries. Keep a constant awareness of your gait and just like tires, routinely rotate. Try to maintain an even tread with both your feet until your dead. At 30,60,90, come in for a test but don't tell the doc your mileage, just let him guess.
Categories: roto, 1st grade, car, health,
Form: Light Verse

Take Me Out

Take me out to the Brawl-game
Take me out where it's loud
Buy me some ammo and some crack,
I don't care, who we attack
Cause it's Roto-Rooter for the losers,
We'll flush them right down the john
Cause it's fire one!
Fire two!
Fire three!
And your out,
Of this old brawl game!
© Tom Bell  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: roto, adventure, allegory, funny, parody,
Form: Light Verse

Premium Member Digging Up Surprises

For years my father
Dug up his buddy, tilling
His garden for spring.
Never using his Roto
But, shoveling so slowly.

Dad was afraid that
His garden friend, might be hurt
By roto-tilling.
Painfully Dad partook of,
His cautious task so slowly.

You see, for many 
years, Dad’s buddy surprised him;
Greeting him the same.
In a shovel full of dirt,
His friend, a terrapin, lay.

Dad always looked him
Over, for some injuries, 
Very carefully,
Placed him in the grass until
He had finished the tilling.

For about one whole
Decade that old terrapin,
Would turn up each time;
As the garden grew, Dad fed
His friend lettuce, carrots, beans…

Dad was so attached;
That turtle, he did rate and
Dad loved that little 
Creature like he was his best 
Friend; turtle always came back.
Categories: roto, animal, best friend, cute,
Form: Tanka

87

H8H8H8
        ----2481
Grantu__ lutu ----- roto ----- moat

See e
>?
              IT
              is
            T ech     noollloooogggggyyyyyy
87 
 87 
  87
   87 
    789
       87  

     87    87   eight eugehgt eieght eieghtie 80
seVEN 
    87
Categories: roto, art, sensual,
Form:

Premium Member roto rooter is not enough

Johnson's bed with Trump isn't chaste
A waste dump that's sticky with paste
Mike's endorsement bet
Is an enormous threat
That sump pumps can never erase

Author's note: For those unfamiliar with USA's government, Mike Johnson is the current Speaker of the House.
Categories: roto, cancer, evil, love hurts,
Form: Limerick
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