Best Turd Poems

I refuse to feel like a turd in the grass
Laying there till I become petrified
No one coming to pick me up
They see me as the...

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On a reminiscing of a poet I thought I would make a call
 
But on searching for this name sake I was left appalled

The name...

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Some numpty bad mouthed my soup style
I’ve taken a break for a while
But I won't be deterred
From writing about turd
And subjects some others deem vile

I’m...

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My desk is all of a shamble
My garden is full of bramble
Does this show me to be
High in ability
Or just a bad example 


So, if...

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He called me that S word again
deadly threats with His pen
a coincidence in disguise
I now seek out other guys

Revirgin Mary I willn't be
alive in fantasy...

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Sue decided to send Jim a tweet 
She used words that were quite indiscreet 
Calling him a fat turd -
(Using another word)
Their romance has taken...

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Write a limerick of your own about a Muppet. 
If you post it in a comment or in soup mail to me, 
and I find...

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A little bird 
Dropped a little turd

Upon my clean windshield
I pushed the button but no fluid did it yield

My wipers swiped and smeared a stripe
And...

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Freed from my mind
I escape it
I end time
I think it
I think nothing of it
I believe in you
I believe in the American Dream
I think of it
I...

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She's Wet VII Continued

When she gives a cough or a sneeze 
Some wee trickles down past her knees 
Her knickers are damp 
She smells like...

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Wow is this for real, my boy lollipop,
My best ever destination, da, da da da,
Is a trip to the park
I love it when it gets...

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OK, it's about that time.
It's time for me to annoy P D in rhyme.
Now what can I annoy Pd about this time?
P D broke this...

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ON RESCUING AN INJURED PIGEON
	I.
sliding screen door screeches, pigeons scatter
thump of wing against breast, shockwave breeze
more frequent than in the past, shimmering necks
soundtrack squirrel zig-zags,...

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If you would like to have your limerick(s) posted, soup mail them to me.

Ms. Rude is still writing her snide remarks
She sounds like a mad...

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With a sleep-living shuffle, they plod along
Apathetic senses, that don't notice it's wrong
Automatic living, with the brain turned off
My ideals of freedom, their conditioned to...

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