Long Farts Poems
Long Farts Poems. Below are the most popular long Farts by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Farts poems by poem length and keyword.
Have fun playing baseball, hint number one
finish the season though you’ve never won.
Can’t win if you don’t play, work on point two
find the skills you need, then practice them too.
The count’s at three, try to pick the right clothes
Not too tight pants and zippers that will close.
Moving on to cleats with thought number four
be sure they fit, that’s what sizes are for.
And rule five: no cussing, use your tongue's brake,
backtalk, name-calling are habits to break.
Watch your temper, ideal number six -
you’re not that feisty cat which your dog sic’s.
As for step seven, it’s long overdue
learn from your mistakes, know what NOT to do.
Keep the dugout clean, we’ll call this clue eight
squelch farts, don’t throw up cause you over ate.
Tip nine; learn when to bunt and when to steal
It makes for more fun, but takes nerves of steel.
One more then done with these suggestions ten -
if you chew gum, spit your wad in the tin.
World Series fades, into new pastimes we buy
...Roll on, past baseball to a creed we can live by,
...Respect for others grants our ego fond goodbye.
October 22, 2022
they found the discovery sound science
they started their research thinking
they could use natural additives mixed
with corn to allow their technology to see the vapor
coming from the dung of hogs and cattle and chickens.
they found it worked best when the animal farted.
they tried the same technology on a group
of sailor at sea.
they used infer red technology
to pick up farts.
farts made visible, depth with colors.
a group of anti friendly environment folks
found the technology anti paproperate.
and began protesting saying the studies had used sailors as guinia pigs, and the studies supported a life style that was anti family.
the sound sightings of the farts, can be made to have those who *****to have bigger farts than the straights said one sailor.
who was a tuba player and he said he thought often he mocked his tuba when he farted.
when they showed him farting, he became out raged and began screaming. he along with an offshore oil crewman lead the protest that went against these fart researchers.
study from Enquiry of fecal gas, 2019 New York Press...studies by Doctor Butts retrieved by Herturd Biggums and Professor Digiest from the Asschore College of the Human Universe. Published by Doorstump Giggler. New York, New York
Here I sit, the screen is blank
Nothing is coming to mind
I search and search my tiny brain
For a theme of any kind
Nothing doing, my brain is numb
It's happened to me before
When it happens panic takes over
I pace up and down the floor
Wait a minute something's coming
A brain fart is on it's way
I know the feeling all too well
Cataclysmic, I'd have to say
I frantically type as verses flow
Don't stop me I'm in the zone
It's a weird creative frenzy I'm in
My brain is functioning on my own
As words begin to fill the screen
Can't believe what my eyes do see
A poem appears just like bloody magic
And it's signed by little old me
Now tell me how this happens I beg
This brain fart phenomenon
Wish I could really get control of it
It's appears and then it's gone!
© Jack Ellison 2015
Saturday nights I remember
were bad in September
even worse in November
On campus, roving mobs and gangs
looking for girls to get drunk and then bang
In dorms, wise fools dropping LSD
screaming, trying to deal with reality
Frat boys throwing furniture through window glass
Mooning, blowing farts, and lighting the gas...
College days: The 'best years of my life' these hardly were
~ On my generation and me, an ineradicable slur
Just in case you're wondering:
I attended Dartmouth College
in 'Hangover, NH' from 1968 -
1972... 6 years later, 'Animal
House' was filmed there, not
surprisingly.
I’m walking backwards up a hill.
A light turns red; I go
into the ocean with some cats.
There’s one that I don’t know.
He says, “Your clothes don’t even match.
Your shirt is inside out!”
I say, “That’s quite an eye you’ve got”
and feed him to a trout.
The trout, all stuffed and happy,
does a little dance.
I join in until the cats
decide to steal my pants.
I change into a wedding gown
and waltz into a war;
the soldiers take a coffee break,
and then it starts to pour.
I run for cover underneath
the top of Eiffel Tower.
A soldier from Iraq appears
and in his hand, a flower.
I bend to kiss the violet rose
when swarms of butterflies
come buzzing by with wings like nets
and chasing little guys.
Regis Philbin peeks at me
and shyly starts to coo,
“Forget the million. Guess who’s got
a secret crush on you?”
When Richard Simmons trudges in,
I know I’ve got to gripe,
“This must be another’s dream.
That woman’s not my type!”
An oldie for the 'May The Gas Be With You Farts Part 2' Poetry Contest
of Chantelle Anne Cooke
this company is heading straight to the top
with our new improved line of fairy farts
soon our catch phrase will be all over the place
a slight touch of magic in a jar
first and foremost a disclaimer though
in the making of farts not one fairy was harmed
we house and feed, take care of their every need
so there's no need for alarm
once we discovered how the toots could be used
down here on fairy farm
we've had all our men chase after them
capturing bottom barks into a jar
then by hand we transfer them
from pint up to gallon size
to be used all the way from laundry detergent
to a line of makeup that's soft on the eyes
we even have samples of candles
bath and body works just bought the whole lot
plus it runs machines cheaper than gasoline
so far the highest bid is from Exon
we're also in talks of a contract
with a highly secretive govern(mental) agency
who wants all the gas with no questions asked
but on that we'll have to wait and see
in the mean time our workers continue to bottle it up
all the fairy farts from all the fairy butts
it's a job that flatuates deep to the heart
but with this job what's not to love
as you watch the fairies flutter to and fro
hearing the cute little toots wherever they go
who would have guessed who could have known
how much a business like this would grow
An ultrasound scan of my tum
Showed lots of foul gas soon will come
I try to hold it in
But much to my chagrin
Foul farts are shooting from my bum
I could give up on veggies and sprouts
Lush fried onions in large amounts
I do farts loud and quiet
But I won’t alter my diet
My doctor says good fibre counts
Some veggies don’t agree with me
They make me fart so frequently
My hubby doesn’t mind
Thank goodness he’s kind
I have got a big problem you see
You could call me a flatulent lass
Foul wind’s shooting out of my ass
I admit I’ve been windy
Can’t blame our dog Mindy
My doctor says Jan it will pass
A somewhat tongue in cheek poem... but I had an ultrasound last week to check for ovarian cancer as my stomach had been bloated for several weeks... the result of the scan is a cyst on my kidney and ‘lots of gas’ in my stomach which i do not expel in public lol. My doctor is happy I follow a high fibre diet and I think things will get better once I stop eating sprouts lol
* we don't have a dog!
12/09/20
ON TURNING FIFTY
As my cousin turned fifty there was talk of AARP.
Two years behind Danny, I ask the million dollar question:
“What is AARP?” – “Oh you’ll find out,” my uncle laughs.
~
Fifty is the turning point -
No sense denying, we’ll all die one day.
For example, just letting fifty flip off your lips…
What the blankety blank?!
Well, look, I am old enough to swear…after all!
~
My baby sister thinks old age a grand joke -
All us old farts…me fourteen years her senior.
But we all know, even baby sisters hit the jackpot:
I can hear her screaming, “Noooooo! That’s im-po-sibbbbble!”
If you heard a star wars reference, yes I’m that old!
~
50 is a party hardy age:
We shake our groove thang
Grown men line up in full gear for the YMCA
My husband unbuttons his shirt
“My eyes…”
~
Fellow fifty lifers fill your flagons with felicitous fright…I mean delight
Lift up those hefty flagons, if you still have the strength.
If you can still laugh your not dead yet. Fifty more to go to the finish line.
Fifty more is up to you:
Fifty drinks
Fifty breaths
Fifty sighs
Fifty laughs
Fifty years
Cheers!
4/10/2017
A free as can be free verse, who the heck cares…I’m fifty plus :)
Because of my farting
I'm stuck in one room
In my mansion on Hoity-Toit Hill
The force of the gas
Expelled from my ass
Propels me along, “What a thrill!”
As my butt cheeks expand
I aim straight ahead
With a helmut secured to my bean-o
I land with a thud
Don't worry, no blood
Silliest scene you've ever seen-o
I picks meself up
Wipes the sweat from my brow
In the white porcelain bowl I deposit
But after I'm done
Unloading a ton
I've got no more farts in the closet
So I sit for a while
For an hour or so
Till I build up my internal gases
After a few sonic booms
I return to my room
But I sadly broke the lens in my glasses
© Jack Ellison 2014
the writer
Now let us try this again to write a document
With one letter marching nicely in front of the other
Like adding instead of using numbers to give the written
words prettiness, even if the theme is about unnatural sex.
The fact is the diesel smell at the bus terminal
Six o`clock in the morning, when the cleaning lady starts her
low-paid work has nothing to do with anything had they
here going to university, they could sit in fine offices
and go to the hairdresser at nine, a woman who can just
read and write, luckily for the ladies, she skipped school.
The driver of the bus enters farts loudly, and that is ok
But I could have shown some respect. It is odd to think
if all women had higher education and looked up to the blue
sky, who should make my dinner?