Best Rotten Egg Poems


Lumpy Rumpy and the Rotten Egg Gas

Lumpy Rumpy, now a high school lad,
I'm afraid is still acting very bad,
In his school laboratory he did amass,
Some stinking, self-made, rotten egg gas.

He corked it up in a chemistry vial,
Then down the town, he strolled for a while,
Choosing a site, the local paper shop,
He went in with the vial and took the top off.

He hid it behind a large magazine rack,
Waiting outside for the putrid gas attack,
In three minutes flat the shop emptied out,
People holding their noses as they ran about.

The fire brigade called, putting masks on,
To find the rotten aroma, so very strong,
Finally the brigade captain emerged holding the vial,
Lumpy grinned to himself,
Another prank done with such style.

Premium Member Humpty Dumpty

Humpty Dumpty was in fact a selfish king. A narcissist with a harem of women, many who were under the age of sixteen. He was quite large and disfigured, due to his royal ancestors marrying siblings to preserve their blood.  His mum was also his aunt and his dad was also his uncle in relation. He was a hunchback and could hardly walk.  He was bold and had a pale complexion with a very small neck and drooping cheeks.  He spoke with a lisp and stuttered, always dribbling.  He was very cruel and treated his servants very bad.  One small mistake like too much sugar in his tea would result in having their heads chopped off.  Despite having many wives, he was unable to have children, so he executed six of his sisters, but one remained.  Was she the one who pushed him?

King Humpty Dumpty
was a bit of a prat.
A narcissist numpty,
really ugly and fat.
An evil psychopath,
who loved a good bloodbath.
Those afraid of his wrath,
would stay clear from his path.
He was such a rotten egg -
put a foot wrong and you're dead.
Loved to see his servants beg,
all he gave them was some bread.
Unable to have a kid.
He was empty down below.
All fun he would forbid,
or a tantrum we would throw.
His mum felt so much shame,
his behaviour was insane.
In dishonouring their name,
she wanted to end his reign.
Murdered six of his siblings,
but failed to kill the last one.
She was sick of his quibblings,
so she went on the run.
Humpty was a bit small,
servants had to move him around.
Loved to sit on that wall,
to watch kids in the playground,
but no witness would tell,
about that fateful day,
when he stumbled and fell,
nothing - no one would say.
Now Humpty did not die,
but the damage was severe.
He couldn't speak nor cry,
braindead he would appear.
His sister now returned,
to rule the land as queen.
With all the lessons learned,
she promised to never be obscene.
© Silent One  Create an image from this poem.

Halloween Is Coming To Your Home

A fire Pumpkin monster

On lawn with eyes ablaze

Children laughing

With dead souls painted on their faces

Masking terror

TIME to TRICK or TREAT

Fly by moon witches

Unleash magic on the streets


Doorbells ringing 

Colored candy pour out galore

High on cloud sugar

Wicked deeds we Will explore

Rotten egg balloons

Are the favorite tricks I Know

If I Don’t get dark chocolate

I'll be stinking up your floor


Enter wayward spirits

Through portals of After Life

Come Dreaded WINTER

Foretell the many who must Die

Choose the mask you put On

It may NOT come Off...

HALLOWEEN is coming to your home

Grim REAPER is waiting outside your door


It Was Never a Hoax

Covid didn't like being labeled "just a hoax"
So it took revenge on one who made sick jokes
I don't wish him any harm
But he won't buy the farm
It seems his face is covered in rotten egg yolks

What arrogance in refusing to wear a mask
Was keeping the vile germ away too much to ask
Spreading it to many others
Parents, sisters and brothers
For that he should be ashamed and taken to task

Well, now the jokes on him and his foolish pride
The Corona germ creeped into the naysayer's hide
Covid kicked him in his gut
Then bit him on his big butt
It could've been avoided but he lied. Yes, he lied.

How awful have been his political transgressions
"It is what it is,"  one of his smug expressions
That man is just too haughty
He's despicable and naughty
All he cares about are his worldly possessions

I don't like writing about people in politics
But D.C. has too many liars and lunatics
Time to clean up his mess
He's caused us such distress
Four more years of Trump? I say, "Fiddlesticks!"


~Jan Allison has written a limerick about Trumps "tweetment," that you would enjoy. https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/the_correct_tweetment_for_trumpty_1292245


This is my personal opinion, and whether you agree with it or not is your choice. If you do not, I suggest you write your own views instead of 
leaving negative comments.  Thanks.

Premium Member The Egg Beater

I treated you well, so it’s stumped me
A fat little white dude has dumped me!
For revenge I might bake
Your insides in a cake.
Better run for your life, Humpty Dumpty!

No sunny side up for you, Guy!
Forget about cake; you shall fry.
Your whites and your yolk
I will scramble. No joke!
Tonight, Rotten Egg, you shall die.


An oldie for Brian Strand's the 'ALL YOURS (MAY 20)' Poetry Contest

Life Is a Brothel / Lali Tsipi Michaeli

Life Is A Brothel


Life is a brothel she says
Zipping ten centimetres up the crotch of her
Diesel jeans

How many jobs do you have to take to remove your nose
from the rotten-egg stench;  how many chances do you have to give
the adjustable lighting
to sweep away for you the connections
to breath-gaps?




translated from Hebrew:
Alexa Christopher-Daniels


Katrina

nature, storm, boat, clothes, house, water

AWASH AND AWAY! ©  KIMO

Listen, Katrina will come inland
Katrina has come to play
Playgrounds underwater
Sleepy times put asunder
Bedclothes hung out in tree tops, upended
Held fast in forked boughs
Homesteads beached, broken
Swirl and swell in amongst debris
They become crippled and tainted
A brew of pestilent plagues builds unwanted
It lies in wait to contaminate!

Katrina's force sings out old-time nursery rhymes
To be carried out on the wings of fate
Questing and calling for ownership
On today’s horrific wake!

“ROCK A BYE BABY, IN A TREE TOP, When the wind blows……..”

“BYE BABY BUNTING, DADDY'S GONE AHUNT'N---
To catch a little…….”
“Little Bo-Peep has Lost Her Sheep---
Where or where can she find it”?

“Where, Oh Where has my little dog
gone---”?
“I'LL Huff and Puff and Blow You’re House Down
Not By, ‘The Hair of My Chin-Chin-Chin”!

“Ring around the Rosie,
A Pocket Full Of Posies---
Hush-ah, we all FALL DOWN!”

“Rain, Rain Go Away,
Come Back Another Day!”

"K", My Name Is "K A T R I N A"
And I went INLAND!

"K", My Name Is Also "Killjoy"
I Am Made Of Wind and Water and Sand!

Uh, where's that "PEA GREEN BOAT”?

"K", is for Kettle
AND I BLEW ALL TO KINGDOMCOME!

“TEA FOR TWO….
AND YOU FOR ME!”

"K", is for Kaput
And it was about my Karma!

"HUMPTY DUMPTY sat on a wall,
HUMPTY DUMPTY" had a great fall---
AND ALL THE KINGS HORSES, AND.....?”

"K", is also for Kindred Waters
And I am vast
You were the KINGPIN
‘KEYSTONES’ NOW LIE IN MY WAKE!
“KNICKY, KNICKY 9 DOORS-“
“COME OUT, COME OUT WHEREVER YOU ARE?”
“LAST ONE OUT IS A DIRTY ROTTEN EGG?”
I double dare you to tread again
“Rover, Rover you can’t come over!”
“STEP ON A CRACK AND YOU BREAK YOUR ‘MUDDERS’ BACK!”
“Itsy Bitsy Spider
Went Up the Water Spout-
Down Came the Rain,
And Washed The Spider Out....
Out Came the Sun and Dried Up All the ‘Pain’
“ITSY BITSY SPIDER
WENT UP THE SPOUT AGAIN!”
....didee© Verse

My Daddy's Job

No  ,I did not  want   holiday  ,
I did not  want   to   go   to   site  
Where  blocks  or  bricks I had  to   lay  
Or   pillar   and  beam I would cast 


I did not  want  dad's  dirty   Job,  
Where   cement  would  mar school boy up;
Egal  where  you were in the  globe  ,
Sand   to   mix   or   water   to   mop  .


The  stench  of rebuilding  cesspool  
Like  the foul smell  from  rotten egg;
No I would not  be such  a fool,
To   put   leg where he   put  his  leg  .

Now  I am  older  than he was;
He was lion,I am a mouse.


Contest:  Job( 8 Syllables)  

Sponsor:Sara
 Date  : Nov 14,2014.

We Break the Past To Build the Future

the chimney stacks
of the old power station
claws at the belly of the clouds
and with its sulfurous billowing
it bellows its stench
tinting the clouds, yellowing nicotine stains
as its cadaverous fingers clench
and releases, as it pleases
the painted nails 
sport red flashing lights
as the bellowing smoke
for airspace fights

the dawn is cracked open
under the grey steam-pot lid
like a rotten egg
and the horizon is broken
into blocks
between the pedestal legs
of the spindly chimney stacks
progress clangs and clacks
on blood-rusted
unused train-tracks

the scars of progress on an old landscape
-	weals healed over in ageless veldts
whilst weeds pimple between the stays
a last gasp of green displays
the gangrene death
of nature
oozing from the suture
as we break the past
to build the future

Defined By Idioms

Defined By Idioms

Naked truth, bent nails
dead men tell no tales
bad Apple, broken mirrors
burnt out light bulbs, crocodile tears
spilt milk, goose chase
two cents worth, rat race
rotten egg, bad to the bone
eagle eye, no place like home.
bat from hell,
pulled punch
big cheese, 
no free lunch
can of worms, bleeding heart
knock on wood, 
till death do us part
bite the bullet, checkered past 
good as gold,
last laugh
burning bridges, 
ball of wax
hold your horses start from scratch
wooden nickels ace up your sleeve
hair of the dog 
all Greek to me
axe to grind
behind the eight ball
bigger they are 
the harder they fall
jack of all trades cat's got your tongue
fair weathered friend 
like father like son
small world 
on thin ice
speak of the Devil roll of the dice
blood's thicker than water
lie like a rug
dime a dozen 
when push comes to shove
dog eared pages 
eye for an eye
bury the  hatchet how time flies                       clean as a whistle C
chew the fat
crime doesn't pay.   cover my ass
throw me under the bus gentle as a lamb
cold shoulder  
 hit the fan
buyer beware 
woman's work never done     
never say never 
takes one to know one 
come Hell or high water
pissing in the wind
pretty as a picture through thick and thin 
beat a dead horse pass the buck
whole nine yards down on my luck
life’s a  
don't rock boat
needless to say 
go for broke
My life is the sum of trite cliches
Jaded expressions
so worthless so worn
I couldn't give it away

Killer Girls and Flesh Eating Zombies

My head feels like it has a lava lamp inside
The skull has a long crack going across the front

I think it’s time to rotate the winter Mucha
Slide up the spring beauty with her berries and birds

Tis the season for old fashioned double features
Killer girls and flesh eating zombies rule this year

Sucking the crystal geyser for all it is worth
The pole humping, lap dancing nemesis at play

Think I’ll drop some winter pounds and grow a new tan
Feed my birdies and then the melodies will come

Make my life sound thrilling with my ukulele
While I pour down those Beefeater gin and tonics

I’ll collect pie birds and light incense each day
While praying for a zoftig desperate housewife 

Change my religion back to innocent pagan
Shed all this Christian guilt like a well worn condom

I’ll hang Wiccan twig men in the lush green forest
And read about the Peloponnesian war years

Polish my ceramic frogs for the porch display
Then ship my old video tapes to my momma

Install some buckhorns on the hog for back relief
And turn fifty with a big four twenty bong hit

I’ll drop in just to ask question and make one think
Then listen to baseball while hammering fine nails

Grow some fat tomatoes in hanging flower pots
Number my candles with secret hieroglyphics

Yes, my head will crack open like a rotten egg
Then the healing will begin, and the world will turn
© Gary Jones  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Pooch - and Other Quick Jottings

I said, do you fancy a drink, Tom?
He said where the hell is that stink from?
My dog cocked his leg
We smelt rotten egg
Because he had eaten my stink bomb

                          *

My cat swallowed my whoopy cushion
He can’t get it out but keeps pushin’
But each time he squeezes
He makes noisy breezes
My mum holds her nose and keeps shushin’

                          *

They stroll the prom in their best finery
Some stop for alfresco China tea
Silly, not brave
With one big wave...
They look like they’ve come from a winery

                           *

She gracefully ambled the prom
I’m sure somewhere posh she was from
She patted my dog
Who ‘issued a log’
She left with a lot less aplomb

A Ghost I

Writing this while entities, ghosts are present --
Not able or willing to make themselves appear.
How could I know? You might, rightfully, augment.
I've always been able to sense when they're near.
But, alas -- time after time, there is nothing there.

I said, "they're," a lie -- you knew I meant "she,"
Didn't you? Why would I otherwise be so concerned?
At the peripheral of vision, mad treetops shake free.
In those shuckling movements, the wisp is returned.
The room I light, windows sealed, mirrors all turned.

I call friends and toast a garlic grilled cheese on rye.
There are occasional pests of undetermined colors
Scurrying to escape my wrath and condemning eye;
And, a sulfuric, rotten egg odor like old car mufflers.
I want to leave; but, am wary of moonlight shufflers.

On the roof it is peaceful, quiet. I am alone -- for now....
It is frustrating to not be certain if a person is tethered
Or crossed over -- a condition not only does death endow.
A face flashes. The phone rings. Her page is weathered.
Too few glimpses, hearsay, rumors -- I am surrendered.
© Tom Arnone  Create an image from this poem.

Lowest of Whispers

With his lowest of whispers
that leads to my soul. he murmurs
I will be there soon, to touch and love
so much more.

he leaves her speechless as he reaches for her hand
kisses each finger and the palm so dear, drawing her closer
i love you so, there's nothing to stand near or far to block
my love for you ...

Simple gestures, draws me so close, he sits at the table
in his own thoughts, 'I will meet you at the mouth of the bay"
he laughs at her, 'skinny dipping what do you say??'
she laughs and runs, "last one in is a rotten egg.'

The laughter they bring, the love so pure,
as they strip their suits to explore and love
the night away ...with their glass of wine,
laying so close and feeling each breath
sleep comes and lulls them to breathless
kisses of tomorrow ...

This is real love of the lowest of many whispers ...

When the World Was An Egg

Her scrambled pessimism flowed like lava streams
Her yoke incubated more than just hopes and dreams
A alien world that resembled a festering wound
Smouldering ash, toxic gas was all that could be found
 
Her primordial soup had the chaotic future of a rotten egg 
Tomorrow was a dark blanket - overcooked solid like a boiled egg 
Her yesterdays were a ghost town of erupted volcano's
And life was - an overheated oven - a raging inferno 

Before the first fish hatched to become seafood for the shark
I craked open the atmosphere to release a spicy aroma with a fork
Before the first dinosaur wore the scales of her costume
I gave the world more than all the oceans could ever consume 

I was an unknown element nourishing in the stifling enigma 
As a master chef wailing onions and chopping red magma
I was an unknown flavour preparing for this exquisite moment
The main ingredient - beaten into a beautiful omelette

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace