It’s lonely here, at the top,
the manure high and much
to shovel; fertilizer on sale
today! My family business,
hauling and distributing animal,
fecal slop – pungent every
route and obligatory stop...
Quite enterprising to make
good use, of what they eat
and freely let loose --
all nature born to recycle --
?~Wonder if the soul resents what it knows,
the scented consumption of bodies kills
what it grows --
knows what it uses (a generation)
to make love and
strife (life the fickle-begetter of life)
leaves from behind such an
odious spice… Clouds form,
sky spits and rains – man eats,
drinks, sh’ts on all mountains,
in seas on rolling plains. Seems,
no-matter what man produces
involves decay and pile of stink --
When God planned His evolving nature,
did He perhaps have occasion to burp, pinch His Nose,
fart and blink?
He wears the cross upon his chest,
And speaks of heaven’s cure,
Yet turns the hand that ought to bless
To wield despair and death.
By dozens sent, they fall, they die,
Beneath his pious claim,
While God’s own life is swept aside,
And they live and bear no shame.
Can faith abide where blood is spilled,
Where mercy bows to might?
I do not know—but still I fear,
There, coming to the light.
For in the dark, their hands still try to reach,
Each soul now whispers true,
A fleeting thought, in quiet speech,
Breaks through the fecal stench the air.
Yet still I ask, with hard pressed dread,
Can we survive such sin?
I do not know, for they are wed
To hipprocracy and what inside it holds.
There is no justice, in Ireland under such
Officials as this.' Mountjoy incarceraction no injustice is hid.' Trans-human machinery
Is the purveyor and rule.' Wielded
By such morons.' The emphasis weighted, cruel..A souless pervasion, rabid yet drear, just; un-just.' This
Is the face, of an authority, that appears the rear..End of all un-reason we observe; in round disgust. At its fecal dis-charges, I protest I must!
Its Labelled lawfull, though yet so awfull '
This proclaims of all insanity.' Nonsense is
Prevelant, the faith is gone; from this system now, that is truly bust.'
OF WE AND THEY/EVEN US AND THEM! *
In the beginning
We were the architects
Of God’s designed world;
Then came them—
The devastating forces
Of its Garden Of Eden
Decline:-
We were the flowers
And fruits of the Garden;
Then they became
The slithering and coiling
Slime of disobedience
And disrespect:-
We were chosen
To teach cross bearing
With the Bearer thereof;
Then they—save Mark—
Tried to leave out
Our Simon Of Cyrene hue:-
As you read, my children,
Listen to these 83+ years
Old screaming words:
We must know that ourstory here,
Did not begin with their slavery!
They’re just lyingly implicated this,
In their fecal canvassing
Of their diuretic history:-
While we remain
The crucified oppressed,
And they, the crucifiers,
Realize our Ancestors
Ensured that we would be
Today’s resurrected ones;
Overcoming and ascending,
Memorial total liberation:-
Thus, it be between them
And us, in waning oppression
And waxing liberation;
We ascending the mountaintop,
Not as children of Sisyphus,
But, the ebony-hued of the Liberator:-
It's a New Year again,
Time to turn another
page -- though I am
far from new~
closer to Old Sage.
Time to forgive...and let
go... -- as seasons flow
the cold of January
will leave our North~
Southern breeze will again
melt the snow, thawing
Nature's frostier thermostat --
(a subtle lesson in
there for all of us) --
Myself, never much for skiing --
having taste closer in line with toasty-sand
and dazzling-shore
however, no need to further bore anyone with
my own preference -- mindful that we all have
personal deference -- but more than enough
in fond common not to foolishly feel need to share any
affections not deemed innately neutral, amiably acceptable when
cordially meeting and passing -
My this year's resolution:
To make a little less fecal
pollution
to love a little more
a welcome mat not far from
the bell camera at the front
door --
I won't be naively foolish -- but maybe
a bit less frightfully ghoulish...
Ideally, we would flush
what is of little value –
wiser men and women
sending to the sewer
of time, putrid, fecal matter --
a byproduct common
to even the best
of societies...
lately, we elevate them
to higher orifice –
AT THE DUNG DINERS’ CLUB-
Dung beetles them there beetles ;
That feed on feces;
Some species of dung beetles;
Ooh! Yum just love that feces from all the species;
Can bury dung 250 times their own mass;
In one night those dungs love to not pass;
Also known as rollers, roll dung into round balls,
Which are used as a food source please pass the more;
Or breeding chambers;
Animal dung used for fertilizing lands and lawns so bitter;
Dung muck droppings, ordure guano;
Cowpats, cow chips, horse apples;
Compost, excrement, mulch maul
Buffalo chips, cow chips, Heee haw!
Cow plop's, meadow muffins, BM, Oh? crap;
Defecation, discharge;
Excrement, fecal matter, waste;
Feces feculence flux
Go to the bathroom, stool, number two
Poop the night soil
Swwhh,! ooh the airs so fowl
Egesta evacuations body waste
Says them there dung beetles give it a taste
Guess them dung is dung eating ya? Make haste(Oooh yum yah!)
7/19/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2021©
DEADICATED VERSE TO Jan Allison AT THE DUNG DINERS CLUB
Wiping my butt with sandpaper
shredding the skin off my cheeks
inhaling my own fecal vapor
i bleed from my butt crack for weeks
Test icles
Female dog
Oral stimulation
Wood
Rectal insert
Bulb of the vestibule
Raccoon
Box
Ipipi
Del dool
Dike
Cigarette
Akkineni
Mouthification
Analingus
Fornication Under Consent of the King
Fudge factory worker
Gay
Ejacu late
Fleshy folds of skin
Handwarmer
Black person ethnic slur
Pene
Rose thorn puncture
Cono
Strange
Sack
Fecal matter
Promiscuous woman
Pluck
Pecho
Obnoxious person
Faighne
Master Baker
In the midst of myself I see all a named through a blame of crystal ball garbage self imposed heaps of anarchic monumental fever itches slowly coalescing compost inflaming frolicking one step beyond destitute drowned drained primal ascents like muted strands of character counts contents--a sugary benign bene-violence renewed every 4th year by death trite trickery, bumming freedoms long necked, sticky fingered bullet borrowed Bogart abandoners like cool coup indifferentials-----hangless gyrations coordinated catastrophizes counter culture aberrations seeming short changed a dimes worth of democracy voices foot and mouth disease we move through dead brain catheters dreaming of cellular open ranges of slack composures minus politico contractual ill tongued bilateral lobotomy laden binormals laying waste to unsecured raptures---dicey yet decidedly temporary but elipticaliplapsing any Gods forgiving truth and moral divergence by appetite arbitration. Hence a gamely time of fecal folly foot loose and fancy toe tag free---------all's well that entrails well.
Crap dung excrement;
Discharged BM;
Defecation discharge fecal matter;
~
Wasted number two;
Deuce feculence faces manure;
Poop muck droppings ordure;
~
Guano guand cowpats
Dung know
4/26/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2020
I was leanin' on the fence slurpin' a mug o' joe,
Admirin' my neighbor's garden and watchin' Harry hoe.
"Harry, Harry", I asked, "What makes yer garden grow?"
"I spread oodles of fecal matter on each and ever' row!"
Clyde spent an afternoon guzzlin' Coors in his neighborhood saloon.
He swore he saw a cat play a fiddle and a cow jump over the moon!
He was so sozzled that he was taken to a clinic to recover from his swoon,
And it was there that he was certified to be wackier than a loon!
Humpty Dumpty fell from a balcony splattered upon the street below!
Was he shoved, was he soused or suffered an untimely bout of vertigo?
He was a fairly 'bad' egg from what is heard from pals in the know.
It was just 'rotten' luck that his fragile shell couldn't withstand the blow!
Little Jack Horner sat in a corner devourin' a large pizza pie.
He furtively sipped some brew and was gettin' rather high!
His momma was aghast at such behavior and confiscated the beer.
"Just wait 'til yer Pa gets home" said she and boxed him on the ear!
(Praise God)…
A fly dropped
into my soup—drowning.
Down the drain
I poured—watching an old lady
digging through the garbage…
I puked as she ate the stale bread
thrown away the day before.
Yes…my life…
has had its fecal moments …
has not been like a bed of roses—
Yet …it ain’t been flushed down the toilet.
...and the warnings rang strong
...and the cauldron wheezed
...and the magma lapped at strapping branches,
genetically equipped, with a passion,
for protecting the bulb
...and the poet rhymed on
...and the emperor, Nero, has resurfaced
...and the swinging, singing, stinging swarm
cycled back
...and the funk of it reached fecal proportions,
surpassing sweetness of rotting racoons
on the roadside
...and the poet rhymed on.
A fly dropped
into my soup;
drowning.
Down the drain I poured,
watching an old lady
digging through the garbage.
I puked as she ate
the stale bread
I had thrown away.
Yes, my life has had its fecal moments;
and hasn’t been like a bed of roses; but
at lease it ain’t been flushed down the toilet.
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