ROCK HARD POLITICAL DEFECATION
Making the nation
great again, he defecates
laws of injustice:-
Stinky flowing unjust laws:
Stooled igneous tyranny:-
I have a friend who beats his chest
Who thinks he's tough, an ego blessed
He goes out clubbing, club in hand
Neanderthal romance, clubber lang.
He drinks banana daiquiris by the bowl
Experiments with chest wigs, an anthropoids soul
He apes around to attract a mate
A regular swinger awaiting his fate.
My mate's a primate, completely nuts
He likes jungle rap and scratching buts
He knows his trees and their Latin names
Defecates in bushes without any shame.
My mate's a primate, he's natures fan
A big white grin and an amazing arm span
He cracks nuts with feet, his party trick
Employs his member as a measuring stick.
“You are most elegantly composed, so cleverly penned””
The poem breaks wind.
“Will others notice the wisdom I have poured into you?”
The poem begins to rummage in a kitchen drawer.
“You are the perfect child of my creative powers!”
It finds a knife, begins to vigorously saw
at priceless words.
“I think I love you."
It squats on the tiled floor and defecates.
Holding my nose
I carry it out of the house at arm’s length.
The money machine eats youth, life and spontaneity,
beauty, and above all, creativity.
It eats quality, and defecates quantity.
IT REEKS ANEW
by
JOHN M. ARRIBAS
When a Cow Defecates Onto the Grazing Field
There Is a Stench, That All Miasmic Odors Yield
But Given Some Time the Weathering Will Seal
And the Original Discomfort Becomes a non Deal
However, If the Deposit Is Stirred, the Odors Return
Leaving Old Conflicts Alone, a Lesson to Learn
We Have Disputes, Arguments Causing Unrest
But If Finally Resolved, Passing Times Test
However, If the Event Is Later Resurrected
Resentments Return, Peace Becomes Unprotected
If You Find a Bear Sound Asleep and Undisturbed
Poke Him? Dead Events Should Remain Interred
He looks ... Once more
The wide, weathered barn door
Tilts … To the wind
Its hinges broken … Rusted
It will never close again
Doesn’t matter
A small, solitary swallow
Flees from the shadows within
Vanishes into a chaste sun
He wonders … To where will he fly?
A radiant white dove
Descends
Upon the shimmering tin roof
It struts (in righteous pride)
It coos (in blessed compassion)
And
It defecates
The field beyond this building is … just a field
Is there more than clouds above?
He hears the wife call to him … Gentle … Soothing
His impotent body moves … Retreating
The ache in his throat … Tormenting
This time he’ll tell her that he didn’t
… Hear the child’s laughter
rain reciprocate wind
inhaled gas nourishes alveoli
leaves give air of life
bull defecates
believe in
Reality lies sandwiched
between fantasy and faith.
But the existence of hope
allows for uncertainty.
Authority looms in black,
with its rigid arms outstretched.
And swallowing human rights,
it defecates slavery.
Lonely hearts desperately
haunt the edge of dying dreams.
And promises, rain manna,
on gullible, hungry souls.
Freedom fuels decisions
by stepping outside the box.
While conformity's rooted
in blissful unawareness.
Puppets get tangled in strings
tethered to fragments of trust.
And dreamers chase fantasies,
in pursuit of phantom dreams.
The Unwelcome Visitor
By Elton Camp
As a visitor, he’s the very worst
At the prospect, I silently cursed
We don’t want to be around him
He’s coming again, confound him
His demeanor is a total disgrace
Getting right up in one’s face
He speaks no words to be offensive
Yet his presence makes us defensive
Then we also are forced to face
He tries to violate personal space
To like him is extremely hard
Since he defecates in the yard
Another thing that we hate
He’s prone to publicly urinate
He’s nothing but a savage brute
The things he does aren’t cute
Leave your filthy dog behind
Yes, we absolutely DO mind
Is the occultist aware she’s daring,
That she carries the shadiest orifice?
No.
She just defecates and scars remain.
Akin to the likes of an unmarketable comedian:
passion on one side, narcissism on the other.
‘Twas unforeseen.
Enemies working together,
Exchanging callous banknotes.
No one had foreseen this.
Eventually, she’ll cripple
from depositing and withdrawing.
But no one knows.
No one can ever know.
Can I not live? Just live. Just live and breathe
And appreciate, not my life, but life.
Walk beneath the stormy skies and see the clouds
And smile at the moon. She always appreciates
She reassures me that the Sun is still there
And His rays touch her and they will touch me
They make me.
Can I not live?
See the beauty in the growing grasses
Aware of life, but not my own.
Aware that I am just a visitor, a speck
That rides the chords of time and loves.
To touch the hands of such a Father
And to nestle in the breasts of Mother Earth
I must respect and be alert for what She says
I only suckle when she demands, and it
Is in respect. Complete respect that I genuinely keep
Can I not live? Just live and walk on the sands.
Touch the surface of a rolling world that roars
And foams at my feet. Those massive beasts,
Part of a world I cannot explore and should not
Because, I respect. My Mother Earth cries
For me and for them.
Can I not just live?
Who should I listen to? My Mother or
The Man of law that defecates her soul?
Must I be confined to a cement block?
And littered with shoving expectations that suffocate
I cannot live. I cannot just live.
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