Best Sphincter Poems


Premium Member 'twas the Night Before Christmas

'Twas the night before Christmas, I’d forgotten the sprouts
So I sent out a plea to the local boy scouts
I’d remembered the crackers, the turkey and ham
but my guests would expect sprouts, so I was in a jam

The scout leader admitted that I was in a pickle
and he said my family were all somewhat fickle
I said Uncle Bert just adored eating brussels
then he’d fart for days with his lax sphincter muscles 

The scout leader had a plan, it is so well thought out
He'd call each scout’s mother to donate just one sprout
Every scout hurries round with one sprout in their hands
soon I have plenty of veg to sate my guest’s demands

On Christmas Day the relations ring my door bell
Pat barges into my kitchen; she makes my life hell
At one time she cooked meals for guys in the Navy
So she has to check if there are lumps in MY gravy

On the stroke of one o’clock I dish up the food
Uncle Bert belches loudly, that man is so rude
They devour all the turkey and round stuffing balls
By the end of the main course I’m climbing the walls!

They don’t offer to help, so I fetch the dessert
Uncle Bert drips brandy butter all over his shirt
Then they guzzle the cheese and finish the wine
Bert then farts profusely, he’s a disgusting swine

Then we sit round the TV to listen to the Queen
Bert’s eaten too much, his face has turned green 
Pat gives me a present, of a hand knitted jumper
It’s three sizes too big, I just want to thump her

They’ve descended on me these last fifteen years
I ask if they’ll reciprocate, my words fall on deaf ears
They never say thank you, they drink all my booze
Next year they can whistle, I’m booking a cruise!

Same Persona


Tho’ the soft voice has an aristocratic tone,
the haughty attitude ain’t no street gutter different:
Being rude ... dropping shade

Dark keystroke mood, 
shallow indigo indifference shown
Another bad online day made

Royal pain of a social media princess
giving good grief
With a sunny disposition staged

That same persona
is acting out in public again — 
Digital tongue intoxicated by the viral fame

Drunken thoughts of superiority
are spilled on the laptop
As her mental runt rants spew more shame

But[t] always couched behind banal positivity,
trite emoji expressions
Mousy pooter loves to sphincter the blame

The same gaslight persona
is acting out in the public forum again — 
Low heel clicks from lattice lips

Drama queen on a toilet spin,
gossip lovers say she has such a hater handle
Royal flush of a sent sewer clip

Petty web of inane intrigue
got much diva curiosity following her
A Twitter litter trail of trash-talking catnip

Different window dressing edit, peppermint vetted, 
has the same bittersweet facade — 
Hard candy hits from her gentle fingertips

Uncle Billy's Achilles

Saw chiro ‘bout a kink in the neck,
saw the x-ray and said, “WHAT THE HECK?!?”
Pinched nerve to my elbow,
doc was a nice fellow,
but he WOULDN'T take my credit or check!

I run to the ATM for cash, 
my left buttocks I notice a rash-
Spread to my Achilles,
just like uncle Billy’s!
SO IRRITATED, got in a crash!

Ambulance took me to ICU,
sphincter upset I started to spew-
My intestines ALL ripped!
All body parts unzipped....
“Sir, your Uncle Billy's here for you."

Dazed I heard a darn hillbilly speak,
rambling on 'bout the rash on his CHEEK!
Then the chiro walked in,
dared to show a big grin :)
A KICK in the nuts, he would'a squeaked!!!



Body parts used: 1. Neck  2. Elbow  3. Buttocks
4. Achilles  5. Sphincter  6. Intestines

A Body Of Work Contest
Sponsor : Viv Wigley

Date written: September 9, 2016


Good Morning Life

Good morning mister, of thy kindness to receive,
All groans of yester, thou does seem to reprieve,
With a promise to stir, tinges optimiste do contrive,
Pain’s sphincter lets laughter, it’s another reason to live.

Swaying pyjamas on sling, the autopsy right begins,
Stayed on the bed is a rolling, whom my kitchen concerns,
“Who took that mine bedding, and Ngwaci scantily obtains?
Wanna see me cast the ring, that thine blossom returns?”

The morning prescription taken, I am innocuously abased daily,
To equate with all good men, whose wives possess jealously,
For what woman with a noble token, shirks to lose recklessly?
Taught in the womb that lesson, it break suspicious smiles secretly.

So a frowned fellow I am, and not alone in this generation,
Often silent kicks boom, where behind the driver I myself resign,
Mister, let the news come, you know, cowboys pay to listen,
Devising to forget the theme, but slaughters make to mourn.

A day received with glory, all mine suffer classic deplores,
My stem with a rigorous forgery, in front of the boss affords strange chores,
The cold of June here has a story, then an undeliberate sudden Salsa implores,
My acquittal is my worry, nobody cares to hear the weather course.

Soon ‘t’s time the cycle to restart, wishing a fair friend had that control 
remote,
All these woes at will to alleviate, yet as I am, they incur not the respite,
With some spreed daily to hurt, alone I remain, a man of living heart,
I choose to live life when I find it, even if minutes thirty like a concert.

I rise with and as clear as the sun, I return crumbled like muddy earth,
This manner of men taught me none, but the proverbial sways of youth,
What shall I do but a resolve one, tonight, where else to go but Unguth!
Limited of option, I have all mornings mine, even if not couth.

Puff Pastry


Boast brownies baking
in dirty palm oil bacon fat
Sugar-coated swine vanilla cupcakes;
pineapple upside down snout snacks,
so coconut phone hasty ...
Sound-byte puff pastry

Flour-face teflon pan —  
tart marshmallow mint muffin
Silver tongue baguette 
spooning out citrus acid banter batter, 
so sour cream tasty ...
Lip huff puff pastry

Pinocchio banana crêpe nose;
roasted lies, almond alibis deep fried
Blueberry bagel beak raisin Cain,
yeast yell swelling pride: 
Con-fectionary leaven in the oven,
so mint cookie I scream dainty ... 
Pigging out on the puff pastry 

Prune-flavored pucker paczki,
Fat Tuesday belly decadent    bowel delectable 
Cinnamon bun — 
pumpkin spice glazed doughnut sphincter hole,
so dollar fig bark hasty ...
Plum tweet puff pastry

Odd cream of Bavarian
whip up the Orange Clockwork zest crowd
Egg white octogenarian
kneading raspberry rhetoric —  
Gen. Custard pie hole powdered sugar loud,
so strawberry swirl tasty ...
Marble fudge puff pastry

Apple cruller golden crust coin flavor,
chocolate frosting money honey savor
Pecan pie cherry cheek a la mode,
buttery scone biscuits served cold
Key lime cheesecake dainty ...
Black bury tone puff pastry

Defecation Dilemma

gluteus maximus left and right half moon cheek
   re: byte size buttock 
attached via usb (uniform firm behind) to this freak
   with bowel movement incontinence + gas filled gut
evoking contortionist frown stretching to lowest peak
 perched upon porcelain goddess where elimination did jut 
held captive hostage atop toilet seat for many a week

exertion to expel rock solid turd required utmost effort
   to force jammed bowel movement free
inducing excruciating abdominal cramps that really hurt
   plus sharp jabbing spasms within high knee  
innards rent asunder from obstruction as BB size PELLETS did spurt
   from lodged fecal matter refusing to budge from me

caused by severe constipation whereby prayer a waste
   delivered only increased sphincter muscle  to scream
for rectal relief this mortal man faced
   a worse fate than death, he would deem 

since demise would allow alimentary misery to cease
   versus remaining in this impasse for what might be years
unless perchance some **** lubricant or special grease
   would bust loose abominable constriction in arrears
finding me unable to pay rent or renew lease

best prospect of remaining stationary with words to wax
   poetic found a glimmer of luck 
when a kind wildebeest delivered this message  via fax
   to help attend male in dire per situation get poop unstuck
with outsize mug of exlax
   to help unclog rectal muck
access to get expunged to the max
   but once expulsion occurs DO DO PLEASE DUCK!


The Fart Poem

THE FART POEM

A rose is a rose
By any other name.
A fart is a fart,
It smells the same.

A puff of air
From a dainty derriere,
A blast of gas
From a hairy ass.
The smell of beans
Passing through your jeans,
A deadly silent sleeper,
Bottle it! It's a keeper.

Of course, there are some
Who look down on the fart,
Considering it rude,
Instead of art.

A burst of methane
From the criminally insane.
A wet one,
Don't want to get one.
A foul discharge
From uncontrolled bowels.
The scum of the sphincter
Crude, nasty, vile stinker!

But such criticism
Is most unfair.
It's not as if farters
Are putting on airs.

They're proud on what comes
From their faithful rectums;
And they don't give a hoot
If some don't like their toot.
And to their critics they proudly send
A blast of hot, sulfurous wind.
One past gasser said put on my tomb,
He blew out a candle across the room.

Parting shot:
Some say a dinosaur fart
Could shatter a boulder, tear it apart;
But they died from the gas that out of them poured,
Giving a new meaning to killed by assteroid.

NOTE: This may very well be my last poem on Poetry Soup if I am banned
          by the censors. But that's ok. I just thought that in the midst of all the
          angst, misery, and depression (including mine) some might enjoy a 
          hearty laugh. By the way, Benjamin Franklin loved fart humor. 

Wounded Healer
Submitted 8/30/09
Written 10/16/08

Premium Member Consumed

Descending,
  I manipulate and manoeuvre for the updraft
  Spluttering,
  I spiral down, then briefly up again, to glimpse a glowing sky
  Flapping,
  I fall forever faster, flat-eagled
  Plunging, 
  I watch the unwelcome gloom envelope my horizon
  Tumbling,
  I twist, turn and turbulate, ... then the thudding thump
  Gasping,
  I groan and exhale, a noiseless moan
  Curling,
  I recoil as innards become outward form

  Emerging,
  a base inside-out creature crawls and creeps
  Tasting,
  the tongue-tied intestines and the unseeing socket eyes
  Groping,
  a gruesome grub befriends the worm and slurps the slug-slime
  Engorging,
  as flaunted members flail blood and flick licky, sticky fluid
  Reforming,
  dim visions populate carnal shapes with awful movement
  Gaping,
  a fearful half-formed and startled face averts its gaze
  Residing,
  in deep gutter niches... these are my companion dwellers

  Wallowing,
  I sniff a redolent upswell of dank fissured earth
  Disturbing,
  I scrape, cleave and wipe away a smear of covering soil
  Trembling,
  I sense a warmth of body, a stretching of exotic wings
  Enquiring,
  I mutter clumsy overtures and crude enticements
  Retreating,
  I hear unmistaken rebuke and a sigh of disappointment
  Imploring,
  I elevate my utterances and seek a further hearing
  Caressing,
  I feel a welcoming and forgiving response

  Pulsing,
  the creature's cocoon gives way to nebulous female form
  Ascending,
  at first a cherub woman smiles playfully down on me
  Transforming,
  a stimulating and sensuous siren cavorts and teases
  Uplifting,
  wings gather me in for a swooping flight of fancy
  Revealing,
  from above, her intimate view of dwellers in the hinterland
  Coaxing,
  she fills me now with empathy and understanding
  Alighting,
  my body-mind lies prone beneath her

  Tingling,
  I feel her form and thoughts slowly enter and encompass me
  Exploring,
  I arouse and we gently probe between lips and sphincter
  Delving,
  I follow our rhythm of kiss, taste, touch and thrust
  Wandering,
  I experience our ambiguous male and female desire
  Playing,
  I laugh at how we tickle our innocence and sophistication
  Loving,
  I know for delirious moments what it is to be another
  Consumed,
  lost in coexistence with a like- but more extraordinary- mind
© Ian Love  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Limerick: Once a Barrister Hired a Spinster

Limerick: Once a Barrister hired a Spinster

Once a Barrister hired a Spinster
To work his pump short of a sphincter
She bought piston and nuts
Fixed up the leaking guts
Then Spinster married Barrister’s sister.

© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013
© T Wignesan  Create an image from this poem.

Flatulence Upon First Date

Upon the first date (decades ago) with the gal,
whose troth aye did pledge allegiance to wed
we agreed to dine at an ex-mex eatery
in north Wales, Pennsylvania, where angels feared to tread
carefully scrutinizing bon appétit the menu selection, 
a touch of Latin lick QED

all American version sans south of the border cuisine –
Quod Erat Demonstrand – translations spit out in rapid fire Hispanic
by a beady eyed inked kid named Ned
whose couture favored a punkish style
with spiked gelled green hair, piercings galore and
necklace with a genetically modified sizable
entombed glass encased amber ked

which beastly fully intact organism with a miniature grisly bear like head
momentarily hypnotizing me tell nudged out of trance sans this egghead
who make a selection by randomly 
landing finger on an item feigning to be well bred

unbeknownst to the arbitrary choice this senior made
within an ample number of mouthfuls
of beans and rice that quelled hunger pangs
mine lower gastrointestinal tract,

felt a bubbling sensation played
though impropriety struggled with gaseous mounting perturbations,
what promised to be hot malodorous, would induce an air raid
from this “wind bag”, whose saving grace divine, when wallet of suede
discover herd visa vis tubby devoid of cash, thus and excuse to beat the tirade
of volcanic eruption found me bolting
out the restaurant door fortunately not waylaid

and madly dashing (like some comet fiery dancer) 
performing a cheeky number hopping on one foot than the other – 
since forceful blast triggered kidneys to be tapped, thus prancer
two step extemporaneously incorporated while await the ATM to disburse cash
legal tender coveted akin to Cupid sprinkling spell of romancer
while expulsion of noxious fumes from thine sphincter from this hob er dasher

brought relief as aye nonchalantly strolled inside 
the cozy diner and slipped into me seat
disinclined to relate vents to future spouse,
the bodily aeration and stream of urine from me magic flute
which amazingly synchronized with the Maximus glute
from consuming food triggering tushy to toot.

Froggy Kiss



“Truth isn’t truth,”
that’s what some Cap’n Obvious toady recently said

He was pissy mad, when his angry tears wet the bed

Lieutenant Rudy Brown-Nose 
a has-been sniffing the swine caboose breeze:
Loco breath wafting 
between sulfuric methane,   prune puckered lips — 
sphincter pie holes half-closed

Politrician power tools pocket plugged into their patsy roles,
says with dark chaos authority: Everything is under control

Public trust pirates, 
		  dressed in 
			populist parrot disguise,
love $inging tavern song$
Foaming out the frothy, dark-amber lager lies 

Iscariot getaway chariots
be karaoke squealing yellow snow —  
highway robbery melodies

Money green
		dollar rain
golden showers

On silver cloud vapor piles,
sticky six-finger flies 
be spitting out 
buzz-kill dung beetle cries

Butt of the jokes be the wench reward
for the stumbling,
	power-drunk whores 

	Wet froggy kisses
scraping the sky
	for a few rubles more

$ee the neon $ign $potlight in the $ky,
it’s showing some Two-Face, penny-wise liar
(Riddling?)
Ritalin up the final justice score

Bat-crazy, Commish slum lord
got the Lewd tenant
boot-licking 
filthy lucre crumbs on the floor

Dog whistles got the railroad cage bent ... 
Wall Street woofers on a barf paid,  carny bark yell
Every foul commodity bowel movement
do slug leave a regurgitated profit stench vomit trail

While the vote suckers are on the slow buy,
their Good Ship Lollipop is on a quick sell 

“Truth isn’t truth,”
is what some Cap’n Crunch croaker just said

That’s a mouth full of self-serving, apron purse ties
Sweet Georgia boo pecan pie is tasty cow pucky lies
Go on ... take another covetous slice, 
and a couple more burglar bites

		Wet froggy kisses
scraping the sea below
		for a few dollars mo’

Spitballing Prince of Tides
		love muddying the waters so 
Sold old truths as new lies

“Truth is truth,”
ain’t what some Cap’n Ahab toady just white lie wail said

It crocodile aqua lava seems 
		the Cap’n Nemo Lying King 
is gonna sleep well tonight, on your hot Pompeii water bed

Paycheck Prison

Smells like power
But tastes like chicken
Administrative duties
Make my pulse quicken

Repression wears a tie
Arrogance sports hose
Make Bossy smile
That’s how the garden grows

Timeclock sphincter
Clamped down tight
Constipation of thought
Absence of light

Artistic fire snuffed
Sculptor’s hand inert
Bottom line worship
Trade the smock for the shirt

Corporate aorta
Chocked with fat pride
With toad-lust for power
Freedom must collide

Defecation Dilemma

gluteus maximus left and right half moon cheek
   re: byte size buttock 
attached via usb (uniform firm behind) to this freak
   with bowel movement incontinence + gas filled gut
evoking contortionist frown stretching to lowest peak
 perched upon porcelain goddess where elimination did jut 
held captive hostage atop toilet seat for many a week

exertion to expel rock solid turd required utmost effort
   to force jammed bowel movement free
inducing excruciating abdominal cramps that really hurt
   plus sharp jabbing spasms within high knee  
innards rent asunder from obstruction as BB size PELLETS did spurt
   from lodged fecal matter refusing to budge from me

caused by severe constipation whereby prayer a waste
   delivered only increased sphincter muscle  to scream
for rectal relief this mortal man faced
   a worse fate than death, he would deem 

since demise would allow alimentary misery to cease
   versus remaining in this impasse for what might be years
unless perchance some **** lubricant or special grease
   would bust loose abominable constriction in arrears
finding me unable to pay rent or renew lease

best prospect of remaining stationary with words to wax
   poetic found a glimmer of luck 
when a kind wildebeest delivered this message  via fax
   to help attend male in dire per situation get poop unstuck
with outsize mug of exlax
   to help unclog rectal muck
access to get expunged to the max
   but once expulsion occurs DO DO PLEASE DUCK!

Up-Chucking

Limerick based on the quote:

"How much wood, would a woodchuck chuck,
if a woodchuck could chuck wood." 


If a woodchuck could chuck down sand,
would he up-chuck in his right hand?
The sand is too dry,
he’d begin to cry,
he’d say, “the dust is just too bland!”

If a woodchuck could chuck down crap,
would he up-chuck right in his lap?
It’s smelly, you see,
“why can’t I drink pee?
Oh, maybe I’ll trade it for sap…”

If a woodchuck could chuck down wood,
would he up-chuck right where he stood?
"Too many splinters,
down through my sphincter!"
Oh, if only a woodchuck could…


Syllable count 8-8-5-5-8
February 25, 2017

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

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