Answer me this friend
Are you talking out your end
Or just breaking wind
Fond of spicy food this smart man called Bart
Alone he loves to hear his tuneful fart
But on romantic hot date
Foist is his sole option straight
For him to break silent wind is an art.
I booked a plane for New Zealand and headed out.
The instant the plane landed I saw a kangaroo to chase.
The other passengers were amused, but airport security wasn’t.
I was chased by the best of them, and dragged to a holding area.
There were other convicts here. We entertained each other.
For several hours – breaking out the bubbly, toasting and snorting.
There was some sleeping and breaking wind too.
It was a small place, but I made the best of it. As did the others.
Once released, my hotel room had been given away to others.
So I slept in the lobby until a gentle woman took my hand.
She led me out into the street and we drove around the island.
I have no idea what her name was, but we were instant friends.
We spent several days together, making jokes, shopping, laughing.
It did not get weird until she told me I looked like her missing daughter.
I crept out during the night and got back on a plane heading for home.
You can barely imagine my surprise when I woke up…..
And she was sitting in the seat next to me.
My dear friend Jan this one’s for you
I know you’re sick and feeling blue
You know we love you and wish you well
I’m sorry you’re quarantined and feel like hell
I’ve written a limerick to make you smile
It’s a little stinky and somewhat vile…
I ate some beans that left me chinned
I gasped for air but I was pinned
Swelled up with some gas
I now smell like swass
Another day of breaking wind
But seriously, I hope you are getting better Jan.
We all love you my friend!
you inhabit your space
without you
there is just a chair
with you —
breaking wind
yes, he is funny
and inhabits hosts
If I was so-and-so I’d tell him
a thing or two
you try to ignore me
but I take up space too
and you find me
in your neighborhood
if not my perfume
nor my black flannel p.j.’s with stars
nor my flapping lips
what are you looking for
yes, my stance
right in front of your four eyes
i remove your glasses
and mine
so we can examine each other
up close
i press in
where the boudoir door closes behind us
and you find familiar territory
later we sit in our living space
and you trace my smile
for i’ve made you remember
that we are separated
only by warm air
nothing more
1/13/2021
an old owl shudders
a cacophony of geese -
wildly breaking wind
5/7/2020
An Haiku with motions
Donald Trump, of course, won't be there
"Fake News", as you know, is not fair!
This world's gone nuts
But Trump has guts
And knows breaking wind clears the air
Splashing paint on a canvas
Is that visual art?
Does it constitute anything resembling design?
A huge swastika as a backdrop
for an Israeli Jew crushing a
Palestinian Arab baby under
one of his jackboots -- in a cartoon
in a picture, in a film
Is that art?
Is there any redeeming value in it?
And what constitutes creativity?
Filming a series of loud farts, made
by breaking wind or by pumping one's
underarms against one's sides
What is creative about that?
Is there anything new created?
Filming the strewing of the rancid contents
of a dumpster over a marble ballroom floor
Is that creative?
What on earth does it create?
And is there anything new under the sun?
"What has been is what will be, and
what has been done is what will be
done again, and there is nothing new
under the sun" (Ecclesiastes 1:9)
February 19, 2019
Entry in "Creativity in Visual Arts" contest
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
A flatulent lady named Jan
When she farts folk reach for a fan
That rank onion smell
It comes straight from hell
She sure is a windy woman!
I had onion bhaji’s for tea
With my tum they did disagree
I keep breaking wind
When will it rescind….
You don’t want to stand close to me!!!
We went out for an Indian meal last night …..I’m nothing if not honest lol
12~15~16
Someday I’ll find some Magic Beans to eat
Digest them in the comfort of my shed
They can be black or green or pink or red
The feeling of its warmth inside my tum
And maybe such a bean will go with rum
Then afterward the impetus will start
of breaking wind, to flatulate or fart
to run and hide and take with me the smell
I would not blend in company too well
If only I could make a bean that leaves
The odor of a lovely summer breeze
I’d even add a piquant taste to gel
a Magic Bean without the dire wrath
Exquisite food and not the aftermath
Ralph Sergi
January 8, 2015
Magc Bean Contest
‘Airy Ain’t It
It sways the trees and makes them bend
while fueling climate changing trend
It’s Mother Nature breaking wind.
12/12/14
submitted to Gods of Winds – Poetry Contest
He staggered from her bedroom zombie like,
And scratched his armpits, belching, breaking wind;
His hair was sticking up, his beard unkempt;
He took a shower, brushed his teeth – and grinned.
Of taxes there seems no end
Soon they’ll tax our breaking wind
In the name of Sin
By Robb A. Kopp
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