Best Squatting Poems
Written for Jan Allison, who then decided I should share it for poop verse afficionados.
True story, by the way.....
There are some jobs where heeding worker's safety is required
and during operations must be suitably attired
environmental hazards mean that everyone conforms
and wearing full length protection has now become the norm.
In this case, paper snowman suit with hood and full length zip
a sturdy piece of clothing and is not inclined to rip.
Whilst clearing out some premises a worker got caught short
and knew he'd never make it to the toilet, so he thought
and made a break for the nearest hedge with a newspaper he'd bought.
Just in time he squatted down, the time lag all too brief
as out in one loud massive jet his bottom got relief.
The job now done he zipped back up and dressed just where he stood
not realising, squatting, that he'd done it in his hood.
It soon became apparent, as his headwear pulled in place
as fly attracting runny doo doo dribbled down his face
His workmates doubled up in laughter, just making it worse
as he stormed off in anger like an Oreo in reverse.
So since time immemorial, the moral's been the same
that when you go, then please do so, but
just you watch your aim.
For Jan, with love 'n hugs and trembly bits, Viv x
Categories:
squatting, humor, , memorial,
Form:
Rhyme
Satan in my bowels
All I can say is 'ow'
Cringing and churning
My biscuits are burning
I’m praying for relief
Some sort of lanolin leaf
Wondering why I wasn’t born
Before the devil had horns
Squatting in the bush
Mourning my tortured tush
Asking when trees portend
Charmin is our friend
So if you hear me cry
Shouting Jalapenos must die
Remember that camping is fun
Except when nature’s on the run
Categories:
squatting, funny, introspection, nature,
Form:
Burlesque
Squatting next to a garbage bin,
she dons a fake smile that doesn't fit.
And though track marks tattoo her skin,
her addiction won't let her quit.
Abused by pimps and those she serves,
each encounter has left its mark.
And a cheap dress hugs girly curves,
as she shivers there in the dark.
Forced into a life of disgrace,
she feels she hasn't a single friend.
And her hair hides her haggard face,
trapped in the land of let's pretend.
Whispering sly, suggestive words,
she advertises sex for sale.
And propositions jocks and nerds,
feeling frightened, hungry, and frail.
Lewd proposals, oft crude and stark,
are overheard above the din.
And she sells herself in the dark,
praying God understands her sin.
(Quatrain)
8/22/2015
Categories:
squatting, abuse, angst, emotions, feelings,
Form:
Quatrain
An Aussie Bush Pee
Now! Have you ever tried to have a pee?
while squatting down and hiding in the bush.
But first, must pull your jeans and undies down
while all the time you’re showing off your toosh.
You grab your jeans and undies in one hand
to keep them out the way before you go.
While balanced in a squat your legs apart
you think you’re ready to then let it flow.
But! as it starts you then begin to squirt
it everywhere except upon the ground.
And then you realize you cannot stop
pee on your legs, your jeans, and all around.
You try to hold it back while you then change
position of your squat will be the plan.
You curse and swear, but then it squirts again
it’s time like this you wish you were a man.
Undo their zip and let it all hang out
before they start just hold it in their hand.
And then direct the flow just where they want
‘Cause they can take a pee while they still stand.
But no! For me I have to try and squat
on wobbly legs while trying not to fall.
Then as I go, I know I’ll wet my pants,
but how to stop it I have bugger all.
So! Next time when I am out in the bush
and need to pee; I’ll strip off all my clothes.
I’ll stand up straight, pretend I am a man
And maybe only pee upon my toes.
But wait! I have now found the perfect seat
that I can use when I need a bush pee.
No longer need to squat and squirt it out
I’ll take my new ‘bush dunny seat’ with me.
Christine ©
Categories:
squatting, humorous,
Form:
Rhyme
Love is found when least expected. … by poet
Rudolph was strolling along a winding countryside lane,
humming a love tune. The clear sky shone bright, and merrily
bright birds were twittering as they flew from tree to tree,
whilst a brook was bubbling as it wended its way
to a river that flowed nearby. Still Rudolph was dejected.
Love, alas, had passed him by. Nature failed to attract him.
Despite his meanderings around the surrounding countryside,
he had not found his soul mate to make his life complete.
He was particular in his requirements, seeking perfection.
Suddenly, he took a different path towards the wide river.
There sitting under a willow tree, strumming a guitar
Rudolph saw the most beautiful woman of his life
Her eyes were closed, but Rudolph instinctively knew
they would be verdant like the grass she was squatting on.
Her golden tresses fell in gentle curls, her red lips inviting.
Could he have found his angel on earth?
Placed 1
Categories:
squatting, love,
Form:
Free verse
The Minstrel
In a doorway, squatting, strumming out of tune
There sits a minstrel, gazing whilst he plays
A string of chords, discordant in their mix
Combining all his thoughts of better days.
Unshaven, threadbare, clothed as once he did
Before some unexpected fall from grace,
So now he plays life’s thoughts for all to hear
As passers-by avoid his careworn face.
A flat cap holds a few small copper coins
Reflecting those who understand his plight
And so I cross and place a token too
Acknowledged only by a nod so slight.
His eyes look through me, seemingly to say,
This could be you who's sitting here today.
Categories:
squatting, people,
Form:
Sonnet
Small, Unctuous frog,
Squatting on his lily pad,
Only yawns to eat.
--------------------------------------
Gaudy cherry trees,
Fearful of a rising wind,
Grip their blossoms tight.
--------------------------------------
The stream's headwaters
Have not yet seen the valley;
Nor we yet Heaven.
--------------------------------------
Categories:
squatting, appreciation, environment, nature,
Form:
Haiku
Toiling in the dirt,
looking down as if the ground had all the answers.
Waiting for the wind-up,
Delivery is birthed like each throw is its own child coming into the world.
The lonely moment fleeting as the swish of the ball is cutting the air
punctuated by the Snap of the mitt.
Framing the pitch,
"Ball 1!" Umpire screams
Still framing the ball...
a sure sign of non-agreement
Defense of your pitcher.
Soft tossed back to the mound,
flashing a sign,
reading the game,
The base-runners,
The batter steps in
Talking to yourself the body shows the conversations highlight.
"Come down main street", the catcher sits up in her stance.
"No crazy dives into the dirt, runner on second" ...the mitt is open like a hippos mouth in water to show the target.
The Pitch,
The Mitt Snap
Soft toss back
Squatting behind the plate,
toiling in the dirt,
head down,
flash a sign,
read the game,
the situation
2 out, man on 2nd, 3-3 count
"Lets do it again"
The catcher kneels,
waiting for the strike!
Categories:
squatting, america, april, baseball,
Form:
Light Verse
Bengali women squatting
Pitchers, bangles,gossips
The river Barak indifferent
Categories:
squatting, bangla, imagery, river, women,
Form:
Haiku
We’re lucky to have a math-whiz kid
And one day this is what he did.
He said we all know about going number two
Now I’ve sorted out the decimals too.
First, there’s the basic, number two
Which chiefly, is going to the loo
Yet there should be a, two-point-one
Which is not flushing when you’re done
Or how about a, two-point-two
That’s when the bowl needs a cleaning, when through
He blushed when citing, two-point-three
Which is when the seat is damp with wee
And nobody forgets old, two-point-four
Which is when you’re scared to open the door.
Our son doesn’t like, two-point-five a lot
As when it takes much longer than you thought
Personally I’m a, two-point-six hater
Which is when you can’t find more toilet paper
My wife says, two-point-seven is worse
As in going again-like you need to rehearse?!
And, two-point-eight is never a breeze
As in squatting amongst the trees.
But the clincher of all is, two-point-nine
Which below is briefly defined
That’s when after flushing
The water keeps gushing
And it never stops
When it reaches the top
Which is bad when alone
But you’re not in your home
And your feet are now wet
Coz there’s no plunger to get
So you search for some towels
But there’s pain in your bowels
You then splash on the floor
Then someone’s at the door
He asks, “What’s the matter?”
As you clutch your bladder
So you call out to the guy
“In a minute”, you lie
As you turn off the water
You then need one more squatter
So you go one more time
But can’t flush down the slime
So out the window you climb
As quietly as a mime
Coz you can’t face this crime
And disperse covered in grime.
Our son hoped we enjoyed the overview
Of the finer points that follow, going number two.
Poem is from 2013
Categories:
squatting, silly,
Form:
Rhyme
Oh My Gosh! What’s the matter with you?
You could be squatting outside over a fire!
So you have to clean me once in awhile…big deal!
I slave for you with never a thank you.
Turn a knob and I heat your fancy pans..
I simmer, I boil, I bake for hours…
And what do I get in return…whining
about the new self cleaning ovens…stainless
steel the big “I have to have”! I may be plain
but I never let you down. and yet…you sigh
whenever you have to wipe a spill.
So who's fault it that?
You’re the one who was gossiping on the phone..
Not my fault! I hate to be the one to tell you..but
You’re A Crummy Cook!”..I do my best but
you’ve got to follow a recipe…you’re not a natural!..
Awwwhhh, forget it I’m tired. You don’t listen anyway…
Who cares if you order take out tomorrow…
Not me, that’s for sure…
Categories:
squatting, humor, imagination,
Form:
Verse
When I awoke this morning
The sunny scape was grand
I realized I'm squatting here
On someone else's land
Someone who for centuries
Had roamed this vast terrain
Mostly uninhabited
In sun and wind and rain
Who cherished all its bounty
The spirits will atest
Who gazed on all its beauty
Their friendship was the best
Owning but belonging to
In perfect harmony
Owing only to the creatures
For sustainability
Someone now who roams no more
Confined by his oppressor
The guest who once was welcome
Your governing aggressor
With water you could walk on
Just no way to strive
Total persecution
A struggle to survive
Residential Schools
The Highway of Tears
Murdered and Missing Women
Count them through the years
I'm pretty sure I bought it
Worked hard all my life
To build our house upon
My children and my wife
Maybe I was shafted
And didn't even know
Maybe they're good at it?
I'm here to tell you so
I won't be satisfied
Til my friends are on the mend
Til we can wander far and wide
But still not even then
When we stand tall and healthy
And proud might do the trick
When we're all looking down on them
And they're all ducking sick
Categories:
squatting, culture, history, native american,
Form:
Ode
Mom’s old Chrysler is the scourge of my life
driving it, this sedan makes me complain
forty meters on a ride, the wheels pop--
by that time, I miss the green light... again!
So I'm squatting like a fool on a byway
with prayers, the tow truck gets here real fast--
while counting a hundred 'go' lights blink on ;
my lacy dress spoils, my frail wits aghast!
To make matters worse, tonight's the great prom...
While above the green bulb, a poster reads,
" Is your auto worn-out? Here's an offer!
Get the new Chrysler where each ride succeeds!
Carolyn Devonshire's Contest
Green Humor Rhymes, Old Or New For Prizes
1/16/2019 ~ Revised
Categories:
squatting, car, green, light,
Form:
Rhyme
I am a careful driver who stays in my lane
Except when I think doing so would be insane
Like when a crazy fool
Is stubborn as a mule
And has an ego that is totally inane
I humbly and wisely take the high road...except
When another driver is doubtlessly inept
I'm not the one who crashed
and don't need to be bashed
Do not assume I am wrong, when I am adept
A driver who thinks he's better is a road hog
Some folks might even consider him a hotdog
Mouthing off like he's right
Like a poet on a site
Bragging like a fat bullfrog, squatting on a log
Categories:
squatting, poets,
Form:
Limerick
A simple piece of cloth
Square, rectangular, oblong
Soft blue, pink, green
Woven, nubby or smooth
It matters not
Cloth
Swaddling my infant babe
Cloth
In tatters
Bearing injuries honorably
Chewed, dragged, hugged
Kitty, bear or tiger
Cloth comes alive
In my toddler’s arms
Cloth
Stretched over table or chair
Tent, house or fire station
My busy lad
Creates an island of safety
So proud am I and is he
Cloth
At preschool
Comforting
Cuddled briefly
Stuffed quickly
Into a backpack
Forgotten in busy play
Cloth
Lying inert
Discarded
In an attic chest
Squatting
On the ground
My teen barely notices
Its displacement
His mind alive
New ideas
New destinations
New loves
Cloth over his marriage bed
Immaculately placed
Or rumpled, tossed, lost
Covering two
Sometimes three
Or more
Bills litter the surface by day
Crumbs hide within by night
A polka-dotted pattern
Tears of joy and sorrow
Aged now
Letting go
Of all
But this one piece of cloth
Grateful for its presence
Wrapping, wrapping
Boundaries fading
Cloth as a shroud
Returning his body
To its source
A blanket is never just a blanket....
Categories:
squatting, age, destiny, growing up,
Form:
Free verse