Best Sump Poems
"I am feeling it." He said.
He meant his age. As I watched
I saw a vision…
Out from the cuttlefish bones of his breast
grime coughed up and dribbled.
I saw his heart stutter, the vapid flutter,
watched his lungs belch and utter
like a broken bladder.
A horseman on a creaking steed
raised its hoary head
and pointed an ancient ladle
speaking thus -
"Stir me belly lad," it said,
"spoon me sticky sump,
dole globs of lymph from here to there.
Me grease is dumpy and lumpy.
Me hip-bones crunch
while me dingle wilts and dangles.
Me ears is gummy lad,
I've gone to the bad.”
The specter faded.
The old guy smiles, rubs his thin hair.
"I also see it sometimes," he says,
"that liver-spotted ghost
that chains me to an even older vision
of you."
Bedsprings crochet bones together.
His back is sutured to gripes
stitched to gummy joints.
In the toilet, avoiding the mirror,
humming softly,
shunning conversation with himself -
the ceiling drips a sump of memories.
The park --- Frances revolves confused.
"I don't understand."
A phrase with self-winding words.
A slight miscalculation,
a turning away at the precise moment
she turned towards him;
an error of timing really.
Frances whirs on "I don't understand."
Later he understood she overdosed.
He imagines this lethal power
over her life to be his.
Time whittles cavities with calcifications.
Softly the spine of a storybook breaks -
where one stitch patches a sorrow
a spur prods and rips.
When he listens to the hollows
between the long vertebrae of his life,
he hears a theory crumbling away
under slowly grinding cogs.
we have soft seat
theyer not weak
we sump our feet
to the beat
its a treat
also a food cart
at my
BALL PARK
I bet on a horse and it won
50 quid is not a huge sum
So I bet again and still won
But 100 quid is still a small sum
So I bet again and guess what?
Yes, I won
But 300 quid is still not a big sum
So you know what I did? Yes u do
I bet again and yes I won
But 500 quid is not a big sum,
So I decided to go to the zoo
to buy a gorilla who had flu
I got him cheap, but he was big,
bigger then my 500 sum
I bet he could swim, jump, play
polo and clean out a sump
He did all this with much glee, but I
am still not rich you see
My poorly gorilla costs me a lot, the
vets are an expensive lot
So my 500 quids are no more, and
my gorilla looks sad even more.
So I sold my pet to my vet, cus he
wanted him as a pet
Now I have 500 to bet, and yes on a
horse. I bet
My horse was called gorilla in the
mist
Gosh what a fantastic twist.
Surely my horse should win this
race, and yes he did, at a casual gait.
Now I have 1000 quid to my name,
so back to the zoo, for some other
game.
I brought a giraffe, with my stake,
he had a long neck and he smelled
great
But my story ends here as my Dr
appeared.
Come on he said to me, what have
written on your pad?
Wow said my Dr that’s just great,
now time for your medication date!
The Heart
1 The heart has many chambers it is just like a small pump
2 Tyrones’ is getting full and needs cleaning like a sump.
3 It’s a difficult thing to clean a human heart
4 With what to keep and with what to part.
5 A double pump.
6 The heart is not like an EYE
7 The heart is what lets you live or die
8 Look after your double pumped heart
9 Or from this world you may have to depart.
10 England has a high rate of heart disease
11 Blocked arteries do not appease, doctor agrees, eat more berries for good hearts and good bodies.
12 Our hearts are our life line
13 “Anyone who has a Heart” will be fine.
14 Happy and upbeat all the way along the line
15 Exercise is laborious, difficult, fatiguing and arduous
16 But you can sing out in divine chorus
17 Happy eyes are what we see a when we have a fit body
18 Not our lives running on empty
19 Take a grip and live life while in your prime
20 But perhaps not it has now lost its prime. (My Birthday Suit)
©4/06/2012 ~GG~
Competition entry for Tracies Mish Mash contest
Who tweets toxic thoughts like a pump
And has shown that we are his sump?
The zone he has sewn
This chump dump he must own
Ain't Earth—it’s his clone—planet "Trump!"
Author's Note: What are they teaching at the planetarium (otherwise known as the kindergarten)? Mercury, Venus, Trump, Mars, Jupiter....
Our prez is now Donald J Trump
Who has promised to clean out the sump
Well he's certainly no wussy
When groping a pussy
What more to expect from a gump?
In charge of the Vice, Michael Pence
Said some things that embrace little sense,
"Global warming's a myth"
But's now taking the fifth
In attempting to straddle the fence
We all recall general Flynn
Put in charge of security spin
A trained atomiser
No more Trump's advisor -
His deal with the devil's his sin
The billionaire Betsy Devos
Making plans for a school albatross
Hating free education
Backs private castration
And kids will be bearing her Cross.
The Congress approved Jeff B. Sessions
Ignoring his racist obsessions
He seemingly cares
More for foreign affairs
While forgiving Klan's toxic transgressions.
Chief strategist Stephen K. Bannon
Develops the Great Again Canon:
The Goldman Sachs Bankster
Turned yellow rag gangster
Flings crap from the New Order cannon
Says EPA ruler Scott Pruitt
"Instead of dry facts, we intuit..."
(His work as denier
Keeps profits much higher)
"... If everything dies, well, just screw it"
The war whoops of Mad Doggy Mattis
Awaken the death apparatus
With boundless expense
For a doomsday defence -
Armageddon administered gratis
The magnates no longer need lobby
Or fight regulations thought snobby -
Now set in the saddle
They're herding the cattle
And pulling the strings as a hobby
Now the Don can start wielding the axes
Truncating the tariffs and taxes
The Mafia boss
Is dismissing the dross
And poverty's pain as it waxes
T Thumb-sucking children while they are sleeping.
H Hematophagous animals, which means blood-seeking.
I Insects like those in the worm family.
N Newborns that just do it naturally.
G Guys who love guys and who do it with ease.
S Sump pumps and sippers and gals that don’t tease!
T Ticks and devises that vacuum up slime.
H Habits we all have that suck away time.
A Animal feeders they use on the farms.
T Topsiders* sucking out oil from cars.
S Snot-sucking “Nose Clear;” machines for the ill.
U Under the sea, pumps for oil spills.
C ******** pumps; yes, they’ve got those too.
K Karma, the worst. . . When she’s out to get YOU!
*Topsider is a product name
for the Acrostic Time #1 Free Poetry Contest of PD
(Heart sewage)
HARMATOPHILE
If I could I would
Turn off this love faucet
It has begun to back up again.
Flooded the basement
Filled with mud
Devotion, emotion and dust.
All this broken plumbing
A chemical eroding trust
Our constant numbing in procrastination
A cracking foundation
A sump pump drains
The rain is coming
She is my wicked something
A crystalline motivation
Sewage clog inside shame
Stuck in self-deceit
Eighty proof liquid snake
A headline defeat
In a game that is fake.
A name we remain afraid to speak.
Make it better
Ms. Hopelessly piqued
Blame away all broken plumbing
An eternal pain throe
A deviant freak.
It begins with a belief.
Despite all odds, that it's a fait accompli.
The nabobs of negativity
Hang like ominous bats from a ceiling.
They screech nothing but loss.
Their lives lived as a game of ring-toss!
It's quite comical for winners,
To watch competitors become their own social dinners.
Eating crow, is made for haters.
Winners sump on champagne, steak and sour creamed 'taters!
11-2-2020
There are no toilets up in Heaven, so I was told
Righteous are the perfect sheep in God's Holy fold
They no longer have the need to pee or drop a turd.
That's based on the information I recently heard.
But since I've had more time to ponder the thought,
what if rumblings of thunder are the echoes of a fart?
Body waste would fall from Heaven on you and me.
Quite a perplexing problem for us. Do you agree?
Earth would be a toxic cesspool, if that were so
and down, down, down, the flushes would flow.
We'd have constant need of a massive sump pump
to remove the stinky caca when angels take a dump.
Sitting on a throne is not the way I picture the divine.
God would never allow such a vile plumbing design.
He'd not pollute the planet he created for mankind.
No overflowing toilets in Heaven will you ever find.
October 7, 2021
The Throne in Heaven Contest
Sponsor: Jack Webster
********************
Dimwits and Those That Are Dumb
Candidates with each other contended
Maybe Constitution should be amended
And in certain part of it the way it read
For President can't run if a knucklehead.
Of before you never made any sense
And to everyone was always a nuisance
Then forever our poor patience trying
Could tell after you heard all of his lying.
No telling what next he will have in store
I know for certain and am sure abhor
Not allow country to have an immigrant
Back home the rest of them have sent.
Was a university many had called Trump
Flush out the idiots needed a sump pump
And in your big brain barely made a dent
Recognized as a fool wherever you went.
Imagine Trump to his hair adding color
Instead of orange and yellow was duller
Normal again he finally would become
Even to dimwits and those that are dumb.
James Thesarious Hilarious Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet
Among other things
The night was dark, in the park when I heard a bark
then a ringing bell, blood curdling yell straight from Hell
A loud clunking sound from the ground had me spellbound
by the ploys of the noise, but still maintained my poise.
I shed a tear from fear, but there was no one near.
No hand to hold, when I felt so cold, then behold!
Revealed, what had thus been concealed, an old airfield
Two ghostly planes and blood stains, wings secured by chains
The thump sound was a pump used to clean out the sump
The barking ceased. Time to feast, or a brew, at least!
August 20, 2020
Keen Observation I Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Funom Makama
Asbestos I can tell,
my lungs are working hard as
a sump pump in a clogged well
Though the cancer infiltration rate is currently low,
my body count white cell ineffectiveness is bound to grow
Asbestos I can tell,
my future breathing capacity
don’t look so well
Got my lungs working overtime
in this here deep underground coal mine
Down below, it’s dark and damp ...
a claustrophobic cancerous shroud
is starting to dim my survival lamp
A persistent bout of black seam consumption
is constantly keeping me sick
Just about right now,
I really could use another cancer stick
Although, I know my lungs
are working overtime as it is ... even still
Asbestos I can tell,
Death is gonna have a few job openings
now the road at the textile mill
Was a really grouchy grump
Who would sit upon his rump
Like a couch-potato chump
Like a Groper poised to jump
Anything that he could hump
With a tiny little stump
He would huff and puff and pump
Till he found the City Dump
And became another lump
To be flushed straight down the sump
With a thumpety-thumpety thump
(One may NEVER dump a Trump
With a bumpety-bumpety bump)!