Long Potty Poems

Long Potty Poems. Below are the most popular long Potty by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Potty poems by poem length and keyword.


Smashing Pumpkins

We were bloody.
Bearing the weight 
of a gaping moon like 
young Titans- 
full of arrogant imagination. 
We ran, hellbent.
House after house
playing tricks- 
casting spells with 
veracious foolishness. 
That first pumpkin was 
my stepfather. I watched 
as his carved out grimace 
became the nothingness 
I was determined to fill with 
chaos. 
I screamed the lyrics to our 
favorite Hatebreed song down
every street. Letting the Universe 
know that no matter how insignificant 
the World thought we were. 
We would be heard. 
All of us, brothers. 
Bound by dark matter-
the silent replies to our
prayers that we'd never 
admit to sending out;
Together we didn't need
Him, The Devil, or anyone else. 
We were fearless, because we had 
each other. And the might of bond,
not in blood shared, but spilled as one. 
Parents tried to chase us.
Reign us in. 
We laughed and taunted-
swinging our pillowcases 
full of savory sin with a sense 
of joy that only a lost boy could
even begin to understand. 
Hands covered in slime, and seed
thundered together and sent out our 
cacophony of delight as I tipped over 
the HOA's Porta Potty. 
Red and blue lights flash. 
Someone has had enough.
We escape into the woods. 
Sit on the edge of Willow Creek,
and light up a bowl of dirt weed. 
The creek was shallow that year.
But, our hearts could fill it up;
All that life pulsing, racing through
our ephemeral- jack'-o-lantern husks. 
Smoke signals went up that night.
As we exhaled our silent melancholy. 
I think we all had some sort of hope
there, in that place. That our rage 
would be sated. That we would be
enough to keep each other safe from 
what we could already sense 
was encircling us. 
We never wore masks.
Not until we got older, grew apart. 
And began to see we had to hide 
that primal nature inside ourselves to 
keep the moon from breaking our 
backs. Because, we don't have 
each other for that anymore. 
But, I'm pulling mine off tonight. 
Have a good look- 
The scars. The worry lines. 
The bloodshot eyes. 
That same grimace I tried to destroy-
lighting up the room as if it were 
carved to scare you away. 
But I am no totem.
No walking masquerade to incite 
any sort of terror, or joy for that matter. 
I’m just another pumpkin head; candle 
dwindling. 
Waiting to be smashed. 
-James Kelley 2018


Hotel Encore the End 5 of 11

Get up and at ‘em be strong,
feeling I am reborn,
coming back and full on
like an atom bomb!

Expose their corruption 
my life saw disruption 
I’m putting right the wrong
from where I left off,
unsighted and lost,
but I’ve worked it now,
connect the dots,
going berserk (bloaw).

All I needed was understanding,
couldn’t tell, look potty and shot,
standing strong now, shouting all I’ve got.

Giving it back to cowards
for slander attack, you aint empowered,
and this ain’t back handers or slapped faces,
it’s baseball bats and collapsed in places, 
metaphor, you fool, 
I use words to tell all.

Remember me?
Obsessed with bringing me down,
made an enemy,
left me beaten on the ground,
it wasn’t the end of me,
by you my friend I’ll never be!!

You changed me and strained me,
left me mentally exhausted and drained,
controlling my reputation, like trolls,
shrinking opinions,
Satan spawn minions.

Strolling through life in the free,
silently proud of what you did to me,
living fearless, all clear,
wetting your pants when I reappear,
and I’ve no fear,
alive so all can hear,
survived to get here!!

I’ve so many angles to ring bells,
shake up made up minds in that hotel,
you contaminated them then, now they don’t care,
until one thought they have seems spare,
so they think back to yesteryear,
and suddenly link up as question marks appear,
as lost logic starts to become clear.

What I say will line up, ring alarms, 
dislodge your corrupt,
I’m not out for physical harm or have you in a line up.

Telling my story, it’s written, 
it’s just this,
come back biting poetic justice,
think I fight just fists, 
I've wit and you're just twits.

Now I understand, I drop it move adjust flourish,
understand why I was discouraged,
putting truth on a perch, it ain’t perjury, 
my story you got me personally.

and others won’t see the truth if they choose not,
but it’s there in view and now won’t move or be forgot, 
so if people refuse they do as they do, 
in time they may question clues and ask questions of you.

I’m done with it now anyway, 
spoke and exposed,
my link to all this now disposed.
All I needed was to understand, now I do,
I’m a rose re-rose and roses grow,
with thorns that warn, 
I’m done now, letting go.

And I’m feeling good too,
I’m living life, and I’m not you.
© Nick Trim  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Most Imp Potent and Salient Playbook Page

Most imp potent and salient playbook page...
'bout fluffiness of hair after washing

Now get ready for...
yup intelligent persiflage
determining if potty "talk" gauge
correctly calibrated courtesy this sage.

Beats out global warming
by a long stretch
most important commander
must set example you betch
chore life no matter
if miserable wretch

survives impeachable offenses
enough to make me kvetch,
especially four more years
yours truly will once again become
bulimic anorexic wretch.

Versus important crisis
of planet Earth,
where Gaia's bountiful
nature woolworth
analogous wharf resplendent
docks side of ships berth state
housing electricity generating

mined resources inevitable dearth
warming chill folks
courtesy homey hearth
reminiscent during inchoate
fetal nine months
in utero signaling imminent birth.

Quite understandable reasonable,
non negotiable, inviolable...
blah... blah... blah
scalp itching blather
particularly to prioritize
orange-blond hirsute fullness

upon rinsing sudsy shampoo lather
as expressed by this
post baby boomer
pencil neck geek father,
who attempts to walk poetic feet
across cyber sea
miraculously to slather.

Trademark seedy nonsensical
farcical gobbledygook,
perhaps posthumously printing
bestselling blank paginated chapbook

ghost written by Trump
titled Art of the Steal
detailing head and shoulders how to look
suave and sophisticated all business

swiftly tailored harried style shook
White House disguised himself as rook
key "Fake" incognito president
recruiting apprenticed bartered bride
slow vacuuming trophy wife crook

cow hoard milching, kickstarting,
inciting, generating... donnybrook
coiffing pompadour resembling
forefathers windblown periwig.

Nope not even one hair
mussed out of place,
as if teetering fountainhead
supporting Atlas shrugged

top heavy topples
and crashes scattering
bajillion easy pieces everyplace
analogous to humpty dumpty
each and every last vestige

vanishing without a trace
exiting out cloaca
subsequently intently watching
toilet bowl royally flush
clockwise if within northern hemisphere

heavy enough to sink submarine
haint no reason yours truly might gush
even if abominable ballast
saves queasy passengers
plummeting thru aerospace.

The Little Girl Who Played In Closets

There once was a little girl who played in walk in closets
She'd shut the door to the world outside because her mom
was neurotic and psychotic
And her step dad was a raging alcoholic
This tiny space was her safe haven for her imagination
to fly metaphorically 
See her mom would talk nonsense her brain couldn't
comprehend
And her step dad was drunk and would speak sideways
in tounges
He would get violent and mean to the little girls mom and
that was so scary
Also her mom would go on a warpath for the smallest of infractions
And grab a wire handled flyswatter and swat this poor little girl
til she was black and blue all over
Oh yeah. And her mom was religious and would take the little girl
to church with long sleeves on and tights to hide all the whelts on the
little girls arms and legs
One time in the bathroom at church the little girl was on the potty and
her auntie walked in and saw all the mayhem on the little girls body
And exclaimed Oh My
But nothing was done and the little girl had to go back home to play
in her walk in closets all by herself again
So by this time for this little girl the damage was already done
She found out real young that no one cared anyway
That she was worthless and unloved so escaping in closets was
her only way to freedom with her imagination
Then time passed and this little girl grew up still feeling worthless
and unloved and no one cared anyway
And that's when the psychopaths started their feeding frenzy on her
They picked up on her pain and played their sickest of games
They knew she hid in her imagination and wove stunning tales of
how they loved her. Fantastic and unbelievable fantasies
And her imagination would fly metaphorically
Until the last psychopath she had a relationship with wanted to 
destroy the art behind her imagination 
That's the day this little girl who used to play in closets 
woke up and said to herself 
That's all I have left of me is my artistry and no one is going to
take that away from the little girl inside of me
So she opened the door of this little girls closet 
Stepped inside and grabbed that little girl and they walked out of that
tiny space together 
with the promise of brighter and freer days on the horizon
Not looking back. Not even glancing

Premium Member Death of the Dinosaurs

Everyone has a theory on what killed out all the great big Dinosaurs.
I’m the only one who knows, what happened, that stopped their roars.
It’s just a little common sense, to figure out what it was, I conclude.
You see, all those big Dinosaurs were eating up tons of yummy food.

And you must surely know that, what goes in, has to come out, too.
Yep, you’re beginning to get my drift, as it was caused by dino-poop.
I’ll admit, dragon gave me the idea, as I daily continue to pooper scoop.
But there’s a difference between then and now, for volume was the oops.

Man! Those were voracious BIG eating machines… You begin to see?
The black layer, found in the ground, all over the world, was completely…  
Made of ashed, Dino-poop! You see? The world was covered, miles deep…
In the building dino-poop, they say, there’s also, methane there, in heaps. 

So where did it come from? Yep you guessed it, again… Dino-poop.
It came out of the dino- poop, while being squished into fields of oil.
And why do you think, it was a comet, came in and blew them all away?
All it took was a streak of lightening in the pollution of the air, one day.

Yep, one little spark ignited… to get rid of the old, and in with the new.
Methane is highly explosive, and nitroglycerine, comes from poop, too.
You see, no one destroyed them, they did it all to themselves! Ya think?
Why are there still dragons? Because fire doesn’t bother them, so rethink!

Explosions couldn’t get to them, since they don’t poop inside their big caves.
Yep, Dragons were the very first, ecology minded living things, of that day. 
That’s why…Dragons are on Chinese calendars and not dinosaurs today.
So that’s why Dragons are smug, self-centered and expect to be obeyed.

Because they’re the only ones, my dear, who knew what was coming, there.
Still, they tried to warn all the dinosaurs, which refused to listen, anywhere.
So they retreated into their caves, for a long nuclear winter of restful sleep.
Grandpa Troll confirmed it, for he slept there, with Dragons, in caverns deep.

Now I ask you, would you go into a cave of dragons, as your ancestors did do?
Or would you be one of the oblivious, who back then… didn’t have a clue?

2-11-2015 Dragon says potty humor rocks!


Freud Attacks

I seem to have forgotten
the purpose of civilization
we are to animals 
as animals are to a basket of forks
C.J. Jung as the UFO pilot
in "Freud Attacks" a talkie
a flaming romp through the hubs of hell
hI kids it’s time for potty training 
let's rent a car and take refuge
on the runaway truck ramp
I reached for the emergency brake
got a box of cigars instead
one of the 7 Psychological Wonders
the six others are too hideous to mention
I think we'll need subtitles for this movie
10,000 years of metaphysical illumination
and it's still all work and no play
Where might we find the Way of Fun
although when the black and white keys 
all sound at once it still makes me wonder
like tearing your clothes off
at a funeral and jumping on the casket
screaming I've always been ready
OK that's death wish Wonder number 2
apparently life is not a symbol for something else
sponge my brow nurse this is delicate
but is it a subset of something else
as a catalyst to sensation
that's the appetite monster Wonder 3
mom made voodoo dolls from my **** 
art is the candle in the skull 
I have the power of death she moaned 
where language is used to annihilate language
using words as an accusing narcotic
in the holy 4th Wonder of guilt for all things
a lot of ifs in there searching for what's next
tinfoil helmets will be issued
for the car bomb inferno
of the internal saboteur Wonder 5
next a blank diploma emeritus
from the Wewelsburg Engram University
a knife in the Oedipal eye Wonder 6
needless to say the Clinic of Doom
quickly ran out of volunteers
needless to say my chromosomes
cringe under their bed
awaiting a wonderful martyrdom
how did we become radio transparent
and make bargains with man-beasts
I guess a person is as smart 
as they want to be 
rather than as they need to be
the aid of uncopied ideas never hurts
the act of abstraction is child's play
I feel it my duty to tell you
you can do it in your sleep
but yesterday is gone for good
mourning and loss leave behind
a bed of fragments from Wonder 7
a person incapable of introspection
is a total failure as a human


From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
Artist Portfolio: http://walteralter.byethost32.com/

I Look For Happiness In Wrong and Right Places

Daydreamer....
Skyscraper....
I wish to be famous 
In the same fortune bus 

Arrogance and pride 
Marrying me like a bride
I'm a bad boyfriend 
And I don't mean to offend 

Chillin like a villain should
I shouldn't be so lazy 

I'm feeling a little hazy 

Drunk off of energy 
High off of being free
Trying to hold on to positivity 
Let me be, negativity...my corrupted baby...

Rebellion shouldn't be my middle name 
Shame on me for being so lame
Lost in a multitude
Shy with bad attitude 

I drowned in frowns
I had no friends to begin with 
Going through my downs
My life...I wish it was all a silly, little myth 

I will not be a potty mouth 
Liars are like phones that lag
My mind goes from north to south 
I'm a thousand dirty little rags...I'm annoying straight individuals again...don't ever say I'm acting like a *** 
Because gays, lesbians, and bisexual people are human...
And they should be treated as one 

I will be a responsible adult-teen that's good
It's not good in the hood in my ghetto neighborhood
Tho...
No...
I guess I wasn't meant to be a poet
Ideas get thrown down the pit...
Again....

Frustration and vulnerability make me a victim of sham shame
Just graze in your own maze

Leave. Me. Alone. 

I'm mellow-yellow anger 
Red doesnt describe what I feel
Discreet like two quiet feet
I'm feeling as worthless as a fatigued whale...far away from the sun-shining shore
I want love in my shoes and more

No...I'm a temporary show
The audience doesn't care
I'll go by my own flow like a gray, white and black striped crow
I'm not gay...I'm not pansexual...I'm not bisexual...I'm not transgender...I am straight.

I'm happy with being me
No labels involved hopefully
Feeling so bleak like winter's night 
Let's fight the greatest fight during divine flight tonight
I'll fly with my might 

With no shame
I'm not playing my mind games
My confusion increases
My heart is shattered in pieces...
Then things get ugly...abuse is seen on TV...a thousand times and more...it's a sad earth without mercy and mirth...
I mend slowly
So lend a hand and help me be free
In sunlit glee...give birth to a heavenly mirth

I'm not in grave danger
Being me isn't stranger
Form: Rhyme

The Reverberating Sins of My Father

Can’t remember what you look like or even the way you smell

I’ve gazed upon many who fit the description but are any of them you, who’s to 
tell?

I’ve told myself I’m over it time and again

But the feelings of abandonment nag at my soul and my aggravated spirit 
cries, “Daddy, where you been?”

I’ve ran through bedrooms and barrooms hoping to receive compensation for 
your debt to me

No covering over my shame and proudly wearing my badge of illegitimacy

It’s crazy

I named my son Jeddidiah

Simply because David was his father

And mine too

Then from David to Dawud

Man, I don’t even know you

But I do know that I love you

How very strange to me 

That my estranged daddy

Has the ability

To evoke from me, a stranger

The most powerful of things so effortlessly, albeit I’m 
angered

I was a pretty little girl, so sweet and just as good

How or why did you leave me as unprotected prey for wolves?

I don’t understand, didn’t – don’t you love your offspring?

I mean, don’t you care about the precious things,

About my happenings,

About anything that has to do with me?

Do you even remember my name?

Remember it was me that you potty trained

Now think back to that day you left us in the rain

In front of my aunt’s house over on Paine

Nobody was home that day so we just sat on the stoop getting drenched by the 
shame

My mother barely seventeen, us loving you in vain

There have been stepfathers who abused

And many years later, men that have used and thrown me away like refuse

And I prayed and begged to be rescued by you

But it’s all been of no use

I suppose I could go on for a lifetime

And still never find

The ultimate locution to express my hurt over this matter

And even though I was constructed from half your matter

You’ll probably never read this anyway, so what I write really doesn’t matter

But just in case mere happenstance causes you to peruse the configurations of 
my pen

I need you to know that over the years I’ve needed you and to my chagrin

It has truly been

A reverberating sin

That your oldest daughter has never known where in the hell you’ve been

Daddy, where you been?
Form: Rhyme

Good Night All Or Birth To Toddler

Garbled sounds of familiar yet compassionate love.
Surrounded by warmth and tender melodies as if warbled by a dove...
Soft beating sounds and liquids a flowing 'round and 'round,
Gentle movements, percussion's harmonizing soothing sound...

Breaking daylight unfamiliar sounds and brightness...

Sensations not felt before, warmth and cold with noises loud...

I scream... What is going on? Nothing is the same,
Awake, asleep, what is this a dream?
Never having felt a touch, never seeing light...
Stretch, kick wiggle and scream putting up a fight.

Soon wrapped up and snuggled close, familiar voice and sounds...
I'm settled down and warm as beating heart it pounds.

Soon I wake from deepest slumber,
Belly growling must be hunger.
Stretch and shout feeling pain,
Reaching screaming hoping gain.

Then soothing warmth and flesh a kneading...
Softest rhythm, two hearts beating.
Hunger pain has gone away,
Stretched out sleeping as I lay.

No worries, no pain all needs met.
Oh, but wait, what is that, wet?
Is it beneath me? That I bet!

Again, unfamiliar movement.
Feeling coldness strangely bent.
Soon by loving hands caressed,
Warm again awaiting rest.

Melodies so softly hummed,
Like a medicine I am numbed...
Off to sleep I fade...

Awake smiling, giggling too,
Looking up and cooing at you.
Everything so bright and new,
Wondering what next we'll do...

Much the same from day to day,
And surprises are on the way...
Rolling, tumbling and scooting with joy,
What is that bright and colorful toy?

Bells a jingling, blinking lights,
Stretchy bright and colorful tights!
Rocking, bouncing, sitting up,
Smiling waving, a sippy cup?

Soon I'm crawling full fun,
I'll skip the walking and start to run...
The time it flies so quickly now,
Days to weeks and then years somehow...

Daddy, Mommy, yes and no,
That’s a potty? I'm to go?

With my clothes myself I'll dress,
Shirt for pants, Oh what a mess...
But I can do it wait and see,
And when I do please jump with glee!

Run and jump and skip all day,
Talking and talking with nothing to say...
And then warn out asleep I fall,
With in my bed or in the hall...

Good Night All!
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member God Absolutely Loves Color

GOD ABSOLUTELY LOVES COLOR!!!

Have you ever really contemplated the varieties
of colors in flowers, fish, birds, animals even
the beautiful sunsets in the heaven at times?
Then why don’t we appreciate the colors GOD has
made in creating man?  Like the little Bible song
that children learned stating man as, red, yellow
black and white they are precious in HIS sight!

How uninteresting Earth would have been had HE 
colored everything, black, or white…!  Say everything
was black… birds, trees, fish, flowers, animals, even
the sunsets or white, the same way!  But, even then
man would have found something other than color to fuss
about… with the devil’s help of course!  But don’t be fooled..
this racism is not just man fussing over this, man is getting 
fueled by the ole’ devil.  He is not at all happy when there 
is peace and acceptance, love, and joy among GOD’s creation!

Those of us who are called by HIS name need to 
agree together and rise up and put this “racism”
devil on the run and also put him under our feet where
he belongs and let GOD have HIS way!  Diversities 
among peoples can be a beautiful thing not a divisive, 
unfruitful and hateful things but it actually should be 
celebrated!  I pray that we will keep the devil under our feet in the 
coming days!  Let’s make a point of loving people even 
for their differences!  

I will share this one thing that happened to me several
years ago now on a job.  I was working with a younger
woman who had what you would call a “potty mouth”.
She used terrible language which really gets
to me.  Now, I could have been hateful to her about it
but, instead, I asked the LORD to give me a love for her instead
of anger, and HE did!  I brought her over to my home and taught
her how to crochet, and we laughed together and had
a great time.  I share JESUS with her to and she really ended
up becoming like my little sister.  You see, GOD will do those
things if we ask HIM and if we will do what HE says to do.  Anyway 
with HIS help, we had love and peace in our office!

Let’s choose, love over hatred so we can have peace
in our country!

Written by:  Marilyn S. Jennings
February 13, 2019
Form: Narrative

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