Best Stunk Poems
Oops, It was an Accident
I accidentally let one loose
on a blind date with a guy named Bruce.
We went to the movies on that fateful day
happily carrying our snacks on a tray.
We settled down in our comfy seat
all ready to enjoy this special treat.
Things were proceeding oh so well
with popcorn, hot dogs, banana split with caramel,
when suddenly my stomach began to rumble,
and to my dismay, gurgle and grumble.
In fear, I felt the gases build up
like a once dormant volcano about to erupt.
Then helplessly, I had to just let it loose;
oh my gracious, the stench was profuse!
Mortified I wanted to drop to my knee,
but played possum so none would suspect it was me.
People started shouting such gross obscenities,
and hollering out unmentionable profanities.
One voice declared that something had died;
another indignantly wanted the stinker identified.
Someone suggested the skunk should be drowned;
I wanted to flee, but I dared not turn around.
So quietly I sat unknown in the dark cinema,
as poor Bruce wondered aloud if someone had been given an enema.
My heart boomed forth just like a doom-drum,
I prayed no other foul odor would escape my guilty bum.
But like a clan of skunks, it lingered and stunk,
I was so afraid folks would figure out who’d made that funk.
Thankfully I was saved from public disgrace
as ushers armed with spray cans fogged up that whole place.
Gratefully I sighed, relieved that my crime
had not been traced back to me by show time!
07-09-2018
Contest: I Accidentally Let One Loose
Sponsor: Charles Messina
Placement: 1st
I awoke last night and fell out of bed.
A fart from my Pit bull nearly left me for dead.
It was silent but deadly as it stunk up the house.
None could stand up not even a mouse.
I hit the floor hard her toot was sure ripe.
Tangy and pungent with an everlasting bite.
I crawled through the kitchen and out towards the door.
I couldn’t believe it was somewhat worse than before.
Shaken not stirred I caught some fresh air.
How can something so strong come from such a small derriere.
An emergency button installed in plain sight.
It opened all windows and brought peace to the night.
There’s a moral to this story, be careful what you eat.
Don’t share with your dog, its not a good treat.
A surgical mask and some good rubber gloves.
Will go a long way for the Dog that you love.
A chambermaid whose name is Marlia
Had the most terrible diarrhoea
Whilst scrubbing a loo
She needed to pooh
Poop flowed freely from her posterior
It splattered on the newly scrubbed door
Gloopy poop was all over the floor
There was a huge mess
It covered her dress
Her poor tummy was ever so sore
WRITTEN BY JAN ALLISON
Marlia was filled with sorrow
A clean dress she had to borrow
flies were attracted
The mess compacted
clean up required a harrow!
WRITTEN BY LIM'RIK FLATS
If only she'd have taken a Tums
No mess would be left on her bums
she's still in despair
a stench in the air
To the scent of poop she succumbs
WRITTEN BY TIM SMITH
Marlia was dumb, thinking it was just gas
But it was much more that she had to pass
The day was torrid
Her stench was horrid
Now everyone knows Marlia has no class
WRITTEN BY LIN LANE
Marlia tried hard to sneak out
the trail of her poop left no doubt
Lysol was sprayed,
Her funk still stayed
cause her poop kept running out
WRITTEN BY DANIEL TURNER
Poor, poor Marlia stunk up the room
Her hubby left and she has no groom
He ran for the hills
No more night thrills,
Now she's alone and her life is doom
WRITTEN BY ALEXIS Y
21-07-17
I met friends at ten o'clock for our rendezvous
so we could attend a Halloween party at the zoo.
What weird costumes and sights came into view!
Three wrinkled witches were stirring a bubbly brew.
One of them offered us eyeballs of newts to chew.
"Oh," I replied. "I think I'll pass on trying the stew."
That hag cursed at me like a nagging old shrew.
We walked down a dark road called, Goblin Avenue
when over our heads, twenty vampire bats flew.
Zombies drooled near us while standing in a queue
as if waiting in that line so they could use the loo!
On we ventured, until I stepped in a pile of goo
that turned out to be bloody guts on my shoe.
I was getting frustrated, and about to cry, "Oh, Pooh!"
because my Frankenstein mask had lost a neck screw
but I was able to fix it with a dab of crazy glue.
We passed people dancing while practicing voodoo,
chanting mysterious words that sounded like hoodoo.
They transformed a slithering snake into a kangaroo
who charged at us to fight, using moves of Kung Fu.
This place was creepy and everything was cuckoo.
We ran until we could hide behind an elephant statue.
Thought we'd be safe there until it started to spew
yucky stuff from its trunk that smelled like mildew.
Good gosh, we stunk. So, now what should we do?
Searched for an exit, but where it was we had no clue
Just then we were assaulted by a screaming cockatoo!
Then we were surrounded by ghosts, shouting, "BOO!"
and heard the hungry howling of a werewolf, a lougarou.
Somehow we escaped from that horrendous hullabaloo!
October 19, 2021
Halloween Monorhyme Contest
Sponsored by Caren Krutsinger
You taught me how a mortal should live
And this I value more than what Kings give,
Your meek gait from the church into the grave
Such long-lasting wisdom and inspiration gave.
You read the Scripture under the noontime shade
And this taught me lasting lessons that will never fade,
That hope is dead that comes not from the Savior above
And that the rest men seek in vain until they seek his love.
Had you left behind colossal measures of gold
Such that all before me unrequested bowed,
Vain I would grow and think everyone stunk
And treat my fellow men like unwanted junk.
But kind heavens loved your darling kid
And something greater upon him did,
The rare gift of faith the Almighty gave
And poured the water and blood that save.
When he surveys his surroundings and sees
The twinkle of the stars and the dancing of the trees,
He thinks of the eternal wealth of hope past death
And mocks the cares that come with fleeting breath.
There was once a lazy drunkard named Bob
He's so idle he's nicknamed the fat slob
By the pool he lays
In a drunken daze
He just drinks and shovells food down his gob.
In the summers heat Bob sweated and stunk
Didnt bother him cos he was so drunk
Tripped over a stool
Fell into the pool
And now smells more like wet dog than a skunk...
(GOB -slang for mouth)
Written 14th June 2020
For Summer Laziness Poetry Contest
Sponsored By Mohan Chutani
Joe the scientist came up with a cure
Nasty virus it would kill he was sure
Didnt taste too sweet
Stunk of smelly feet
It was made from the finest pig manure...
A great discovery the whole world said
Great praises were placed on Joe's head
But something was wrong
And not just the pong
They all got infected with swine flu instead...
He's now known as Pig Joe who fell from grace
Struggled to cope with the shame and disgrace
His life's now a mess
He suffers from stress
Joe's left home and he's vanished without trace...
Written 19th March 2020.
Knocked out by sin
They stunk like mire within,
They were throden by satan
Because they clinged to the worldly pathern.
They negleted the golden gain
For which the saviour was slain
Now in the valey of stain and vain
They all shamlesslly lay with pain
Destined not to be slaughtered
After being severly battered
They tearfully sought eternal joy
But forever they are satan's errand boy
They yearn and yell for bitter water
While they've negleted the living water,
Now in hell for forgiveness they pray
What a pity! they are satan's eternal prey.
The odor I get The more pungent I get, in a sense incensed but not fowl Not like a fishy can of sardonic or the stink emanating from the open sarcasm, more like, when in aroma Do as the Romans do Dude pulling rank, so do not be, so fusty Flatulent you know, just blowing wind You say, that discharge was a flagrant offense I say, facetious I did it for giggles I think it funny, while you thought it was absurd an obnoxious art You thought it stunk, while I thought it fragrant and pungent
It started with a drink I drank till drunk
when I started to wonder if I'd blink till blunk.
As I opened my eyes in a stink I stunk
and I started to think and thank till thunk.
Life beginning to sink, it sank till sunk.
I was feeling the fink; a fank with funk.
With my money going clink and clank till clunk,
I was poor to a plink of a plank gone plunk.
When I thought of a link I had linked till lunk,
come as fast as a mink of a mink gone munk.
And I started to write in an ink gone unk,
just to write down a story in the pink gone punk.
Then I started to slink and slank till slunk,
all from writing a story of kink and kunk.
Just afraid of an ending that I'd flink and flunk
as if out on the rink to rank my runk.
All to make me a trink of a trank to trunk.
I was rich in a prink of a prank gone prunk.
While poking around in an old tree trunk
I came nose to nose with a stinky skunk
He suddenly raised his tail
Twas' such a horrible smell
For my wife said that I stink, stank, and stunk
We used to have a lunch lady
who was so very mean.
She was also very ugly,
and she was never clean!
She was hairy as a monkey!
Revolting as a skunk!
And unlike typical ladies,
she really, really stunk!
So I talked to my principal
about her horridness.
He had her replaced soon enough
and oh, what a huge mess!
Her food was pretty disgusting
and so I didn’t strive
The horrid octopi she made
when mine was still alive!
It went and crawled out of my bowl;
but then bit off my head!
So that’s my excuse for staying
at home and not being in school instead.
"My First Instrument"
Bassoon baby so special to me
The first thing I really took care of
Instrumental to my growth
I cleaned it every day
Woodwind wonder
Of stained sycamore maple
A glossy fine finish
For someone just beginning
Sleeping with my jazz filled fantasies
I was a double reed romantic
Leading hit ensembles
For the restaurant down the street
Practiced awkwardly were sheets of music
Letting out so many terrible sounds
Repulsive to even the neighbors
Cementing my ineptitude
I had a case for a device I could not handle
It was black and lightly gilded
For containing a cacophonous weapon
Most threatening
But caring parents blocked their ears
With cotton balls packed inside
While my idiotic iterations went on upstairs
For all those many months
And after some time had passed
Rejection from the band
And looks from the neighbors
Playing I was on a musical beast of burden
When I put it all together
A sensation of madness evolved
That no one could tell me the truth
I stunk worse than burning rubber
So I used it to get my way
A sort of give me what I want
Asking for more desert or staying up late
'Cause I'll play, believe me, I'll play!
Eventually I went to my parents and told them "I quit"
They removed the cotton and responded in turn
With smiles galore and threats from the community no more
Everybody was nice to me again
Einstein’s brain was more complicated than any Swiss army knife.
A pathologist took it from his cranium creating its’ ignominious afterlife.
He confined it in a formalin filled Tupperware tub that stunk
then tooled around America with it in his Buick Skylark trunk.
True story; check out the synopsis of the book (I’ve read it) called “Driving Mr. Albert” by Michael Paterniti on Amazon.com.
Poor Barbara was up most of the night
A limerick she was trying to write
Wrote more than eleven
They stunk to high heaven
By morning she still hadn't seen the light