Intestinal Poems

Organic

If love were 'dark matter'
it would be the size
of a small kidney stone.

Hate is
an intestinal tapeworm
that gnaws at our vitals,
though most folks
remain unsure just what 'vitals' are.

The human brain
does not write poetry,
it merely crouches inside one ear,
while shouting into the other.

Poetry abides at the center
of an ever-expanding constellation
deep within the pineal gland -

that physical presence
manipulates, as many as
ten fingertips or toes
plus, a sloshed Calliope
swinging back and forth,
as she clings precariously
to chandelier-like Adam's apple.

Lips learn to think for themselves,
with the help of undocumented
angels.

Thus, naturally
organically produced poetry
can easily be manifest
while a nose dips deep
into a foaming glass of beer.

MANEUVERABLE MANURE-

"Running through a mile of wasted compiled vile
 I find myself conflicted sitting in a position
 groaning I'm foul planting a seed of tan and brown
 the snake comes out of me and it flees deposited manure
Gastly every movement is not pure, sometime it's deterred
 so now I gravitate as I clasp my cheeks
out from the plummets from the tests intestinal ...
verbiage I'm not on my knees 
Yet, yes I bow down bowel comes out of me
What I just planted was healthy indeed
 it was a groupings of so many seeds
 running in through my garden
 or would you pardon 
Me as I sit posture above a toilet 
and now I let Go of the grouping for you see is my bowels moving
My waste has been displaced
 into a porcelain throne filled with water clear 
as I touch the handle it's spirals down
Maneuvered Manure
 the tunnel to eventually become one with the sewer"

The Poetry Police

The pressure is on, can't let a day go by
Without writing a poem... that would be unthinkable
The Poetry Police would be breaking down my door
And exacting severe punishment
Us poet guys are committed (or should be! LOL)
A bit of humour there...
Even on those days when it feels like we're brain dead
We must call on all the intestinal fortitude we can muster
Even if it's a five line limerick
What about a five line narrative?
Does that work or am I twisting the rules?
What do you call this thingy dingy that you're reading now
Ha! Gotcha... it's a POEM!!!!!
What a tricky guy I am...
When writing about writing a poem, I'm writing a poem

(titles are everything)........

After the Surgery

These blatant lives we lead
with our guts hanging out
between pretty words.

I remember (after the failed gastric surgery),
when gore spilled out of my prone body;
that slow unwinding of blank verse,
(the wordless made flesh) - uncoiling
in bold inarticulate sincerity.
An intestinal serpent – seeping,
and I the author of that preconscious serpent
still attempting to fill empty shells
with delusions and other ill-formed proofs
of existence.

Then from out of that open wound,
out from that that visceral self-revealing,
the pulse of my life so starkly exposed
at last, saying something -
true.

Strange Eh

The pressure is on, can't let a day go by
Without writing a poem... that would be unthinkable
The Poetry Police would be breaking down my door
And exacting severe punishment
Us poet guys are committed (or should be! LOL)
A bit of humour there...
Even on those days when it feels like we're brain dead
We must call on all the intestinal fortitude we can muster
Even if it's a five line limerick
What about a five line narrative?
Does that work or am I twisting the rules?
What do you call this thingy dingy that you're reading now
Ha! Gotcha... it's a POEM!!!!!
What a tricky guy I am...
When writing about writing a poem, I'm writing a poem

Strange eh!

Happiness 101

Well here we are us happy guys
At the start of an exciting new day
The sun is shining the boidies are singing
What more is there to say!

Perhaps it's that second piece of apple pie
Or that box of chocolates you consumed
I've seen you down an extra large pizza
It's a while before your breathing resumes

There is a cure for this age old problem
It's called pushing away from the table
But it sure takes a lot of intestinal fortitude
For some of us we're just not able!

Do you ever get totally discouraged
And think you're losing your mind
You're definitely in the majority today
The country's sliding in the brine!

There's still hope for all us tubby people
But we really must try to persevere
Forego that second large piece of apple pie
And a trimmer you will appear!

Tomorrow Will Take Care of Itself

Today is all we need worry about
Tomorrow will take care of itself
Yesterday is gone, no changing that
Good advice for our mental health

So many factors can influence us
And create a mood we can't hide
Being strong in the face of adversity
Shows strength of character inside

The news of the day is ugly at best
Depressing as world news can be
It can make or break the kind of day
So ignore it and set your heart free

Intestinal fortitude is what we need
Nothing more extraordinary than that
To face head on the challenges to come
Move forward, let nothing distract

Before closing I feel I must add
It's in everyone's power to succeed
Intestinal fortitude and a strong desire
Once you have planted the seed

Today is all we need worry to about
Tomorrow will take care of itself

Been Hanging Around For 12 Years

Do you believe it, been hanging around
For the last twelve years or so
Haven't youses guys had enough of my silliness  
But my tired old brain is still rattling around
Funny stuff keeps poppng out
I try to minimize the number but somehow
Words just pour out like an intestinal malfunction
Maybe something I ate last night
But d'ya know what... life keeps moving ahead
Was thinking of running for prez of the U.S.
Not sure I qualify though, I'm Canadian
Oh well, here's to the next twelve!

Does Your Back End Waddle

Does your back end waddle like a duck?
Does your rear sway from side to side?
Is there a rumbling sound when sitting down
With large ripples in your hide?

Perhaps it's that second piece of apple pie
Or that box of chocolates you consumed
I've seen you down an extra large pizza
It's a while before your breathing resumes

There is a cure for this age old problem
It's called pushing away from the table
But it sure takes a lot of intestinal fortitude
For some of us we're just not able!

Do you ever get totally discouraged
And think you're losing your mind
You're definitely in the majority today
The country's sliding into the brine!

There's still hope for all us tubby people
But we really must try to persevere
Forego that second large ice cream cone
And a trimmer you will appear!

My Old Fashioned Brain

Hard to tell with the movies these days
What's real and really what's not
It's totally amazing what they now can do
Yesteryear it was always the plot

For old guys like me it's hard keeping up
Changes are happening so rapidly
Thankfully though, my guru-like son
Helps me and quite happily

My brain's used to suck up new information
With the power of a Hoover vacuum
Now I need strength and intestinal fortitude
Just for my trips to the bathroom

Where is it leading, technology I mean
Electricity will be driving our cars
Gasoline will soon be a thing of the past
We'll make regular trips to Mars

Really kinda happy I won't be around
My old fashioned brain might explode
Pretty damn sure my out of date cranium
Eventually will read “overload”

Never Give Up Nope

Oh, for a land full of “nope”
for leaders with enough gumption,
and intestinal fortitude
to say ….”NOPE!”
as in NO, NADA, NAY,
absolutely, most certainly not,
by no means, never, no thanks,
under no circumstances.

For one, nor many,
can meet the needs of all
nor should the one
or the many
hold power over all
nor all bow down
to the one or the many.

For the one should be
the individual
free to think to decide
to speak without fear
of the “many”, the “one”
or the “all”

John G. Lawless
©4/11/2022

Leviathan

We live in the jaws of Leviathan 
locked in His tendrilled tongue, twisted and
gasping for air

a second to breath
as it's scaled spit scales across our head
the saliva corrodes our flesh with a painless

hiss that pours into our pores 
We fall into the creature's throat 
descending into the pitch black

We feel it's waning heart beating us
To batter of meat and crushed dreams
smothered us with lullaby

We are not scared.
We know what's to become of us.
A footnote of history.

digested over time whilst we
drown in its intestinal fluid
until we are spat back out 

from His rectum with
our remains remaining 
a fable for future kin

For God has created this creature
that we had the misfortune to live in.

Strange Eh

The pressure is on, can't let a day go by
Without writing a poem... that would be unthinkable
The Poetry Police would be breaking down my door
And exacting severe punishment
Us poet guys are committed (or should be! LOL)
A bit of humour there...
Even on those days when it feels like we're brain dead
We must call on all the intestinal fortitude we can muster
Even if it's just a five line limerick
What about a five line narrative?
Does that work or am I twisting the rules?
What do you call this thingy dingy that you're reading now
Ha! Gotcha... it's a POEM!!!!!
What a tricky guy I am...
When writing about writing a poem, I'm writing a poem

Strange eh!

Strange Eh

The pressure is on, can't let a day go by
Without writing a poem... that would be unthinkable
The Poetry Police would be breaking down my door
And exacting severe punishment
Us poet guys are committed (or should be! LOL)
A bit of humour there...
Even on those days when it feels like we're brain dead
We must call on all the intestinal fortitude we can muster
Even if it's just a five line limerick
What about a five line narrative?
Does that work or am I twisting the rules?
What do you call this thingy dingy that you're reading now
Ha! Gotcha... it's a POEM!!!!!
What a tricky guy I am...
When writing about writing a poem, I'm writing a poem
Strange eh!

Glowing Vessels-

At least the vessels 
flexible pipe flowing 
Flowing through my emotions
 are drastically stretched out
Engulfed and powered by the cool like a waters
Handled spigot with the handle and the screw through
 it turns right to be on 
turns left to be all like a laden fall
Autumn is turn to Winter 
Squirrels endowed with complexity intestinal digressities
 I am flowing through the tube of adorning
Meetings hidden piles of nuts
In swollen tree trunk and branches
Birds tweeting and dancing
Lighting and swinging on armed  branches
living blood waters flow
At ease the schedule

• Short Intestinal Poems
• Famous Intestinal Poems
• Best Intestinal Poems
• Read Intestinal Poems
• Long Intestinal Poems
• Intestinal Quotes