Long Poos Poems
Long Poos Poems. Below are the most popular long Poos by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Poos poems by poem length and keyword.
The twins will soon be here,
And Harvey will have two more cousins,
That much is clear,
But what will they make of Harvey,
When he comes to welcome them at their new home.
Will they think he is big or small,
Will they think he is happy or sad.
Will they think it funny when he holds his nose and says stinky poos.
Will they giggle at the faces he pulls,
or when he pretends to be cross.
Will they like it when he sings to them so sweetly,
Will they like it when he whispers ever so quietly so as not to hurt their ears,
Will they like it when he tickles their tummy,
Will they like it when he gives them toys, he had as a baby,
Will they like it when he plays peek-a-boo with them,
Will they like it when Auntie lets him hold them in his lap,
Will they like it when he gives them his best smile,
Will they like it when he fetches things they need,
so, Auntie does not have to get up.
Will they like it when Harvey gets to hold their bottle when they drink.
Will they like it when he asks Auntie and Uncle about how to keep them safe.
Will they like it when he teaches them to catch a ball, when they are older.
Will they like to hear the stories he tells, to grandad.
They will, they will, they will,
Just like Harvey liked those, who did all those things for him when,
He was a baby,
And he did for his other cousins.
But will the twins like it when Harvey goes home,
Probably not.
Yet Harvey is only five and needs to sleep, and go to school,
Play with grandad.
And I am sure they will be happy to see him come back.
As they recognize his kind face,
And the sound of his sweet voice.
Simply absurd
Heard the news
Snotty residents
On pedants pews
Clear precedents
Vice do choose
Drive us potty
In arty farty mews
Latte & biscotti
With dotty views
Party always grotty
Spice will lose
A slutty hotty
Putty in her hand
Seedy queues
For smutty totty
Or bit of botty
Plenty of booze
A nutty hinterland
Hear our boos
Us well manned
Against this ruse
So underhand
With their coups
Good times banned
Westminster eschews
In pubs can't stand
Everyone poo poos
That's what's planned
If papers peruse
Chaos canned
Soho's Blues
My Mate Pete, he loved to have a drink
and this led him to cause the world's biggest stink.
He used to work in a factory that made joke shop supplies
things like whoopee cushions, doggie poos and also googly eyes.
On the day in question, he was on the morning shift
but the night before, he'd drank a bottle of vodka which was a Christmas gift.
Later the next morning at work, as his body began to detox
he had a little accident with the products in his box.
This product contained stink bombs - the little ones made of glass
The whole factory immediately smelt like the inside of someone's ass.
"Abandon ship" was the cry, "Women and children first"
The smell made people puke, it really was the worst.
There was instant panic, which caused Pete to make another mistake
he then knocked over more stink bombs - a disaster as bad as an earthquake.
With all windows and doors sealed shut, there really was no escape
until Superman arrived, wearing his pants on his tights and his cape.
Superman burned a hole, with his heat vision, so the workers could be free
However, Superman made an error that nobody could foresee.
His heat vision caused some explosive material to combust
The factory then exploded, which caused a massive windful gust.
The stink bomb mushroom cloud then blew across the land
The Army were called in - so they could take command.
The Army plugged in a load of fans and blew the cloud across the sea
Poor Pete was vilified in the press, but he's still a friend to me.
When I'm with Pete now, he's not allowed to drink
cos I don't want to live through another Apocalyptic stink.
I have to admit I’ve got a confession
About my unhealthy obsession
Other kids love pop stars with all their heart
For me it’s the Bristol Stool chart
There’s seven different types of poo
With pictures that give me a clue
to how long the poo’s been in my bowel
Poos that’s both fresh and some that’s foul
Each morning once I get out of bed
For breakfast I’ll have brown bread
The chart is a handy tool
To identify your type of stool
Now I’ve decided to tell
You about the different poos that smell
Cos it’s clear that the Bristol stool chart
Can also indicate your type of fart
Type 1 is as hard as a nut
And stays longest in the gut
Type 2 is a sausagy lump
That’s hard to squeeze out your rump
Then there’s types 3 and type 4
These are the poos I adore
These are the poos I prefer to make
A cracked sausage or smooth like a snake
Types 5 and 6 are easier to pass
Blobby or fluffy ones from your ass
Type 7 is the worst of all
It gushes like a waterfall
So now you’ve got all the scoop
On all the different types of poop
I love identifying my poo and type of fart
The Bristol Stool chart fills my heart
It was the best of poos,
It was the worst of poos.
Restroom, oh Restroom,
Wherefore art thou Restroom?
Momma says poo is like a box of chocolates:
You never know what you're going to get.
NO SINGLE-PLY EVERRRR!!!!!!
Frankly, my poo, I don't give a damn!
Please, sir, may I have some more toilet paper?
Fasten your seat belts! It's going to be a flatulent night!
I love the smell of well formed poo in the morning -- smells like victory!
Nobody puts Baby in the corner stall! Shut up you idiot, I wasn't dancing! I was trying not to poo myself!!!!
It might be a tumor.
It's not a tumor kid!!!! I'm just trying to poo!!!
You can't handle the poop!!!
Two roads diverged in a restroom, and I,
I took the one less taken.
And that has made all the difference.
THE WOMAN WHO COULD EAT WOOD
Who defied science?
The Woman Who Could Eat Wood had.
How and why at first no doctor could say
to her mom and dad.
Years later the doctors had discovered that after a test
special micro-organisms helped the wood in her guts digest.
‘Perhaps B can survive off wood because of some unknown power,’ her father had said.
‘I agree 100% with your thought,’
her mother had said.
‘A superpower I don’t have
All I can do is eat wood. That’s good.
But no one gets saved!
So I’m not special,’ B had made understood.
Sometimes she worried like crazy
that she was different. Sometimes she didn’t worry that she was different like crazy.
At first the cruel media (and some did too on Oak Street) teased her, hated her,
was terrified this kind
of “natural ability” could occur in her.
Quickly they lost interest,
forgot about her.
At Elmwood Primary school some people
ate for lunch sandwiches and fruit.
She ate doors and drawer knobs
and the occasional wood flute.
Some people
in the beginning
were scared that her
bodily functions were strange and not prizewinning.
‘She c-can d-d-i-ig-g-ge-s-st-t-t w-w-woo-d. As b-b-beav-v-ers d-do!’ a classmate had said, not grinning.
‘Friends, Pleeaasssssssssse DON’T be scare of me!
You’ll soon come to understand me. You’ll see.’
‘And YES. I eat like a beaver.
But I don’t cut down trees with my teeth to build
lodges and dams. I don’t eat layers of tree bark.
It’s totally impressive how quick they can build.’
After a long while
most people just accepted she could eat wood. Sure there were a few meanies of guile
who teased her and her parents to tears
for awhile.
She made some friends
and she even had some boyfriends.
She actually loved the taste of wood
that’d make most sick. That she liked to admit.
'I have no choice but to,
I guess,’ she’d admit.
She never felt sick or put on any weight.
Skinny as a HB pencil she was, but not unfit.
Her poos were wood when she didn’t pig normal food when she asked for it.
In fact she preferred wood.
It was free and it
saved her parents a load of money and too,
saved on dentist bills because her teeth never split.
TO BE CONTINUED ... IN PART 2
outside, I usually I keep my stegosaurus Wild Willie hidden,
but if I shriek he comes at a gallop, feeling validated and bidden.
Police have come twice, called by my neighbor Sam, who is full of fright.
I laugh, asking who has ever seen a real dinosaur, right?
Willie cannot got to work with me, because I work at an elementary school.
They do not even allow pets, for fear they might sweat, potty, bite or drool.
He stays at home in his corner eating eggs and rice, watching Netflix.
His tail accidentally opens the curtains, which causes a real conflict.
I bring home eggs and rice, so Willie is totally content and clean.
He has a little poo pile out back, where his poos are used for flower sheen.
We have never had an argument or disagreed on anything remotely big.
Except he did have a hissy fit when I suggested adopting a pot-belly pig.
Birthday Double Tetractys for Eve
To
our friend
Eve Roper:
valued poet
every poem from her artistic hand
Reads like a painting looks - inspired! Using
only words that
proclaim her
essence:
real.
Birthday Limerick for Jan
Jan Allison, born on this day
always knows just the right words to say:
nature writes, soulful verse -
Apropos and diverse,
limericks are her playful forté
laughing loudly, I read all I can
isle of Man should be called 'Isle of Jan'
such an inspired muse
on the news (and the poos)
not to mention orange-faced pumpkin man!
// Happy birthday (January 25th) to two beloved pillars of Poetry Soup! //