Best Scarfing Poems
Rancid lemon rope squeeze
around a rotten tomato neck tie,
crooked odor bow hanging out of place
Acid reflux raisin tax bleed;
dripping spoiled, milquetoast lies
out a sour-twisted, prune puckered face
Tart tongue
sulfur speak disorderly,
dirty saliva fingers in the propaganda pie
Such a bowel movement disgrace
Bottom rung
bung opening vault key
Onion groans ... chittering fermented cry
Boot-licking patent leather taste
Smells like government to me,
corrupt as can be
Dung pile of voter promises,
sits atop a pungent idol landfill heap,
swarming with stinking lip flies
Smells just like reeking government gluttony —
O beast behavior ...
swine odor, foul as can be
Swindle spit vapors perfidiously wafting,
kindle the vomit pit
Sewage waste material ash labors fanning,
can you stand the stench of it?
Smells like dead paper figurehead
government to me
Bait-and-switch fishy business ...
close your eyes,
what does your nose see?
Tainted meat polltry speech,
pluck the purse feathers
off the cable perched pigeon bodies
Smells like government
is about to make a putrid, baked-in story
Made up facts ... maggot video feed
Stale, bureaucratic policy hard rolls
warmed over twice
Buttered late with expired date lies
Served with a cloying cup
of steaming sound-byte coffee:
Substitute truth ... false sugary
Toilet swirl coffin cake,
gutter floss the oral cavity
Bad breath vows made,
garbage hope nobody needs
Government smells
like a morgue dog in heat
Very omit cadaver, obit disgusting
Smells like
a pot of burning bones
on a boil
Bottom lip scum
rising to the top
On a truthful breath: Let me tell you,
it stinks an awful lot
Smells like scurvy government to me,
corrupt as base bribery can be
The lobbyist rats are scarfing down
the moldy green government cheese,
so silver spoon tongue greedily
Nothing like some regurgitated split-pea pleas
to hit the decaying belly ballot gastric spot
Can you make a federal case
of this rank-and-foul flatulent republic rot?
These Limericks were written after playing a card game called Poo Pocalypse... don't ask or I'll blame it on Jan...lol
History recorded leaders in wars
Great men and women: their whys and wherefores
Napolean Bona-fart
A short French dude, a sweet tart
Whose stinky stench exuded from his pores
A female consort weighed too many stones
From scarfing down ice cream in waffle cones
Mary, the Queen of Plops
Upon her butt she flops
In the castle, her toilets were her thrones
There was a barbarian, years ago
In battles much blood was sure to flow
Nasty crap from the buns
of Atilla the Runs
More deadly than arrows from a crossbow
King from the Plantagenet dynasty
was not given time for his toiletry
That was terribly absurd
for England's Richard the Turd
It was an invasion of privacy
Troubled was the one who made great magic
There was one known to have gas... how tragic
The Great Harry Poodini
Had powers of a genie
But subduing farts, he didn't know Jack!
Peeking in windows is an evil deed
One pervert, whose weakness he did concede
He's known as 'Pooping Tom'
With coolness and aplomb
Watching people crap is his craving need
Two Silly Seals Limeridk
8/26/2023
Two silly seals were whooping it up.
Scarfing down,booze,cold ales and stuff.
Things got so dicey,
She,in the sea, icey.
His tears fall for her on moonlit nights.
He wants her back,to make things so right!
I am a pig, and that's all I'll ever be.
Just like you're human, and that's what I strive to be.
Seriously, though, call me ungrateful, but pig food?
Do you humans know what pig food is?
It's leftovers, man. Freaking leftovers.
Yeah, of course I'm going to inhale them,
It's free food. Who says no to free food?
Oh, and have you seen my house?
It's made out of oak, and its pretty sturdy, sure, until it rots,
And where the heck are my windows? You have windows. Why don't I have windows?
And no door? Give me some privacy? Kidding, it gets freaking cold out here,
And all I have are these bundles of hay. Hey, did your granny knit you that quilt?
I mean, you put me thru all of this just to get slaughtered?
Just to call me Roast, or Bacon, like Roast and Bacon Sr. before me?
Maybe I'm just ranting. Maybe I don't have it that bad. I mean, look at the veterans.
Look at the way they eat from dumpsters, and the way they don't eat,
And then look at the way I'm eating organic waste off the plates of neighbors.
Oh, and look at the way I am now, snuggled in a corner, my head poking out
Of cozy stacks of hay,
And then look at the way Crazy Mason makes a pillow out of the curb.
Just look at the way he dies for no reason, and how he isn't remembered.
I know for sure that when Farmer Jon is scarfing me down,
He'll remember every grit that went into me.
And I'm damn sure he won't forget how good I tasted.
From the moment he turned adult legal,
Triple B been hot rodding to the liquor sto’e
Making them daily late night beer runs,
and popping them tops with his beefy guns
Liquid numbmification is his stupor education,
sober thinking everyday takes a vacant vacation
Guzzling and grunting,
brain cells mental growth stunting
Belching and barfing,
lager laced blue-in-the-face scarfing
Triple B don’t have a problem with none of that,
he’s a certified spud, who loves sucking down suds by the sack
His grandpa affectionately calls him Beer Belly Boy,
a Budweiser lunch box was his favorite childhood toy
He don’t mind people saying his six pack is a couple cans short,
as long as he delivers the moonshine on time to the rally point port
Triple B feels he’s living the life of a NASCAR rebel,
and his best friend Bo is a rowdy, hell-raising devil
Beer Belly Boy loves his favorite American girl,
dressed in her aluminum skirt and amber pearls
Beer Belly Boy, full of joy, gon crush kiss each empty can,
‘cause his gut feeling tells him this is the measure of a man
From the moment he turned adult legal,
Triple B been hot rodding to the liquor sto’e
Making them daily late night beer runs,
and popping them tops with his beefy guns
Liquid numbmification is his stupor education,
sober thinking everyday takes a vacant eyes vacation
Guzzling and grunting,
brain cells mental growth stunting
Belching and barfing,
lager laced blue-in-the-face scarfing
Triple B don’t have a problem with none of that,
he’s a certified spud, who loves sucking down suds by the sack
His grandpa affectionately calls him Beer Belly Boy,
a Budweiser lunch box was his favorite childhood toy
He don’t mind people saying his six pack is a couple cans short,
as long as he delivers the moonshine on time to the rally point port
Triple B feels he’s living the life of a NASCAR rebel,
and his best friend Bo is a rowdy, hell-raising devil
Beer Belly Boy loves his favorite American girl,
dressed in her aluminum skirt and amber pearls
Beer Belly Boy, full of joy, gon crush kiss each empty can,
‘cause his gut feeling tells him this is the measure of a man
“When pride comes, then comes disgrace, but with humility comes wisdom.”
~ Proverbs 11:2 (NIV)
A popular topic ’mongst people of faith
Is whether among them are those who but sayeth
That they’ll abide by precepts that all claim
As theirs in that group. Well, it sure is a shame
When participation is empty, and yet
The more people do this, the bolder they get,
Till crises of style emerge, upon when
All cower in fear of the littlest sin.
But who cares if hippies with dreadlocks a-flowin’
Would strum their guitars or speak of some great vision
Of proud peaceful Pepperland, of Puff the dragon:
He’s raw and organic, non-GMO, vegan –
Who cares if you’re scarfing fast food from that bag?
It isn’t for health nuts; why’s that such a drag?
Who cares if you go for expensive retreats,
Drink smoothies, take saunas, and live as elites?
Who cares if what’s inside that head of long hair
Is nothing profound but the attitude there?
I don’t look too special or act like I’m wise
And yet Kate Wolf’s voice I can fast recognize;
I seek the nontoxic, I grow fresh green herbs,
And strive for the thoughtful, not that which disturbs,
I learn T’ai Chi freely from folks in the park,
And meditate each time when I would embark
Upon my small vision quests that can’t stack up,
To greater things that I’m sure all fill your cup
Since you’re putting on such a beautiful show:
Is what’s not pretended just what you don’t know?
~ Thanks Always Returns
Santa eats burger.com
A McD’s opened at the North Pole Sights
Scarfing on Big Mac’s, fries, and crispy bites
The red sleigh abandoned
He now weighs a ton and
The Airforce cancelled Santa’s Noel Flights
Big Red’s beard’s down to his knees
Only comes out to shoot the breeze
Mrs. Claus won’t ring his bells
Rudolph’s nose detects foul smells
His naughty and nice lists have been seized
North Pole news cries: Santa Clean Up Your Act
Mrs. Claus nags of a bad heart's impact
Do like Rudy does, take yoga
Instead of that Saratoga
Kids depend on you to bring their toys intact
by I Am Anaya
*Saratoga cigarettes
Deernaped by a carnival for all to see
He's called Miami's Own Rudoph Wannabe
Now lamenting and blue
For deserting his crew
He's the prodigal deer returned home spreading glee!
by Robert Gorelick
When I think of pies
I think of my son Kev,
when it comes to baking pies
he is a master chef,
when I think of pies
I think of my younger sister Eileen,
my Dads nickname for her
was "Pies" when she was 2 or 3,
when I think of pies
I think of Wal-mart,
with their bakery aisle
tempting us with the
different varieties and aromas,
when I think of pies
I think about Thanksgiving,
and how we Americans
love to give thanks
by scarfing down
about half a dozen,
when I think of pies
I think of pizza,
with Dominoes,
Little Caesars, Papa Johns
and Marcos and their
customers coming and going,
when I think of pies
I think of Dean Martin,
crooning to us his song
about the moon and
pizza pie in "Thats Amore,"
and last if not least
when I think of pies I sigh
and thank God I'm not
a mathematician,
because I think of pies enough
as it is and worry I'll soon
be fat instead of thin!
Like a zombie at a town picnic
Scarfing brains in my room, like a shtick
My costume I offed
For I retched and coughed
Mom said, "That was the ultimate trick!"
October 30th, 2019
9
9
5
5
9
I hear folks sayin' they have the right
To determine what goes into their bodies,
They are putting up an audacious fight
While scarfing down alcoholic toddies.
We have no idea what’s in the foods we eat
Chemicals and preservatives are so prevalent,
While inking up our skin, thinking it’s so neat
While performing a most dangerous stunt.
We don’t like being told what to take
Especially when it comes from Uncle Sam,
But we eagerly turn to the government
When we get ourselves into a financial jam.
We take the pills our doctor prescribes
And, frankly, some that our doctor doesn’t
So why are we writing all these diatribes
And taking medical advice from a cousin?
If I have a question, I’ll trust Doctor Fauci,
Who’s studied immunology his whole life
Suffering through a tiny jab … an “ouchee”
And cut out all the phony-baloney strife!
writen October 19, 2021
This morning Joe got up to get ready for bed,
Wife poured his coffee and toast over his head
He put on his pajamas with a favorite red tie,
And set out for work as a local international spy.
He caught the bus at a distant subway station
While scarfing down French toast with bacon
He sat next to an attractive lady with pimples
Who caught him admiring her cheeky dimples
At his workshop he remained in the uber-lyft
Took out his AARP card, and generously tipped.
His workday over soon as he evened the score
His plane took off just as he opened the door.
Upon arriving in Rome, he went to the Louvre
Thought he might stay, but decided to move,
The Spanish did not care for his Russian accent
He bought a house but couldn’t pay the rent
Poor Joe never felt so disappointed in his life
Without a fare-thee-well, he had left his wife!
FIFTH PLACE WINNER
written September 6, 2021
especially for "Nonsense Rhyme" Poetry Contest
sponsored by Charles Messina
Bodies are always turning up in the bayou.
I stopped scarfing down my sandwich. My ears perked up.
I wondered what he meant.
He must have been sitting behind me in the next booth.
The waitress came by and tried to be friendly.
I usually am, but I was missing out on the rest of the story.
“At least fourteen foot long,” He said.
I heard laughter.
Did he mean tall? Or is he talking about aliens?
My ears strained to hear more, but whispering began.
More laughter.
I wished I had brought a better book to read.
Necklace -
Necklace
Marvel, turquoise
Collaring, scarfing, gem
Ever bejeweled ornamenting
Choker
8/8/20
written word by James Edward Lee Sr. 2020 ©
I eat like a pig, scarfing, grunting, chewing, not tasting.
I want to blame my metabolism for my corpulent gluttony.
I am planning my next meal as I scarf down this one.
A giant bowl of ham, beans and cornbread.
Thinking about it makes me happy as a fat sow in a garbage truck.
I need to take a little nap to get ready for my next feeding.