Long Toilet Poems
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MY CRAZY CREATURES
This rhyme's about creatures of various sorts.
Creatures with fangs, hairy bellies and warts.
They cause lots of mischief all day long.
Mum always blames me but I’ve done nothing wrong.
These creatures are crazy. They’re not what you'd think.
Turn over the page. Find out more in a blink...
The first is Belcher. He really does stink.
He lives in the toilet and plays in the sink.
He likes to be naughty when nobody's in.
He cannot be found when you're searching for him.
Dad always moans when he sees all the stains.
I tell him it’s Belcher, “He’s done it again!”
Two thinks that she’s pretty, but really she’s not.
She has warts on her face and is covered in spots.
She has a big bottom and six hairy feet.
Her name is Ghastly. She’s really not sweet.
She steals mum’s lipstick and paints her mouth red.
She tries on her dresses, throwing clothes on the bed.
As soon as mum enters she’s so quick to flee.
I guess that’s why my mum always blames me.
Number three is so quiet but I know that he’s there.
He smudges my face and puts glue in my hair.
I call him Hush Monster as he follows me round,
Putting mud on my clothes without making a sound.
I aim for the paper but the pen marks my face.
Mum looks at me glumly, "You're such a disgrace."
I try to tell her that it just wasn't me.
"It was Hush monster, Mummy. Why can't you see?"
The worst of them all is a creature called Doom.
I'm always in trouble when he's in the room.
He often burps loudly when we're eating our food.
Mum frowns with disgust. "Now, don't be so rude!"
He cackles with laughter whilst spilling my drink.
"Be careful," shouts dad. "Don't you ever think?"
You may well wonder why he's never been caught.
Well…he's the size of a pea and he’s very well taught.
He rolls under the sofa after doing things bad,
And I look to my parents who seem really mad.
These crazy creatures I like the best.
I’m glad I could share them with you and the rest.
Belcher, Ghastly and a monster called Hush,
Then don't forget Doom. They all make me blush.
They live in my house and like to cause bother,
Driving everyone mad, especially my mother.
They’re experts in mischief. They get me in trouble.
Now I’ll tell you a secret that may burst your bubble.
Whilst these creatures are crazy it has to be said,
They don’t really exist, “They’re all in my head!”
I take the Flyer and push it to my side.
I made a lot of effort for this sight.
Please let me alone.
,,Can we go ahead and talk in a much more warm tone?"
Cringe.
,,I think it's pretty"
So egoistic.
An inch
I am just going to stay quite, let's just see what the teacher has to say to both of our work, that's more realistic.
The last inch
,,Mia, look in your suitcase"
You saying that with that amusing face.
When I opened it,
I saw the trash of an candy and threw it in yours, back coming to sit.
TheyTalkTalkTalkTalk
Ouch
,,miaaa, don't listen to these losers when they bark",
He winks.
,,You alright?", no my heart sinks.
Am I going to still stay here and act like, no my eyebrows movement icks and the shaking lips kick.
Standupstandupstandup
The chair,
It clirrsclirrsclirrs
It will fallfallfall
My hands close my mouth which is going hurt to call,
to let out words,
for making everthings somehow work.
,,May I go to the toilet please",
,,Sure, is everything on ease?"
I left and closed the door.
beatbeatbeatbeat my hand signals me back: ,,Could I step in the room to make everyone thinking nothing was to worry for? But my heart"
Splaaaashh, schhhhhhhhhh (did I relax now?), splaaaash schhhhhhh (ah,no!!), splaaaash, schhh (I am cry i n g a g ain).
Could they come in? No am I dumb boys can't come in.
I need to go in again, just 20 minutes a thin.
Just walk
Towardstowardstowowards
,,mia"
I need to ignore-
Runrunrunrunrun
He's not following, is he?
The stairs a muddy, after every step I will see them classy.
Right?
,,Mia, here are your things?"
,,Thank you"
Smilebrightsmilebright
Why does he behind us observes us?
They defiently didn't took my stuff.
Oh, he did.
He packed my things.
------------------
Break
-------------
I'm just going to sit somewhere else.
,,hey, can I sit next to you?"
,,sure. Is rverything okay?"
,,yeah, no worries I am just sick"
,,Ah, okay."
Pleasekeeptalkingpleasrkeeptalking
Whyaremytearsstilldripping?
Shedoesn'tpayattention
Yayy.
Oh, him.
I should smile-
Why is he there?
,,Is everything alright?"
Justnoddnoddnodd
,,You know it wasn't him who did that, It was the boy with who you were joking with."
I didn't cry about that.
Couldn't he think?
,,i just had headaches"
,,I wish you well"
Justnoddnoddnodd
He was next to you,
but could'nt even Formulare sentences a few.
chester sat in the second row
every day at his school
no one asked, no one knows
but yet the kids were cruel
Ms. Jenny had a simple task
to teach by the book
but chester never seem to pass
so she took a deeper look
his momma died with little sign
he only had rags to wear
for daddy worked at the five and dime
with no money left to spare
at christmas in the classroom
what pretty gifts they gave her
chester found his mom's perfume
and wrapped it in toilet paper
the bottle wasn't full its true
her heart just couldn't believe
but chester smiled, because he knew
it was the best Ms. Jenny recieved
days went by and Ms. Jenny tried
to come up with a clue
and many nights she sat and cried
she knew what she had to do
after school she took the time
to teach him life is tough
that he could be God's best design
if he applied himself enough
years went by and things got better
than they ever were before
Ms. Jenny found a special note
slipped under her classroom door
"thank you for the faith you gave
when my life was dark and sad
I told my mother at her grave
your the best teacher i ever had"
As the tears streamed down her face
Ms. Jenny already knew
that showing love could not replace
what the books in school teach you
years went by and things still better
than they ever were before
Ms. Jenny found another note
slipped under her classroom door
"I'm getting married to this girl, you see
somehow I know you'd care
please come and sit where my mother can't be
I know she'd want you there"
The day arrived, the crowd was set
as chester paced the floor
and then a sight he'll never forget
when Ms. Jenny walked through the door
her simple smell filled the room
a fragrance like no other
chester was the proudest groom
to see his "stand in" mother
it was never easy to understand
the steps we all should trace
but Ms. Jenny knew this young man
had finally found his place
so much time she gave in tears
encouragement that made him strong
but time is limited on earth by years
and now Ms. Jenny is gone
before they closed the casket he cried
then on the pillow by her head
one final note he left inside
and this is what it said
"God sent you here to rescue me
from a life that was doomed and sad
and though I'll miss you terribly
you were the best teacher I ever had".
Written by: sharlett lamb
Form:
I hear their idle chatter and wish that sound was optional.
A box checked in a menu, a simple click and forget.
The rapid dilation of my pupils brings me back.
Back to hypnotic aisles of temptation and necessity. A selection of the finest they say.
Right there see, on the cardboard, next to charts and columns of calories and strange
numbers I’d sooner forget.
But buy one get one free still gets me every time.
I stare intently at the dancing numbers until the man with the tie moves away.
Glossy pages shine brighter than the fruit racks they mirror,
Competing for importance in my wallet and my life
The magpie wins and the bananas will wait.
Half the magazines hawk five a day in rounded sans serif, bold against the background of a
chef’s haircut.
Maxims of bizarre cosmopolitan playboys and hustlers marked up at 3.99. Landscapes of
polished flesh glow beneath the loving airbrush of the paycheck. Competing for nuts at the
zoo.
A vanity fair for the hollow, shining in the fading light of a red top sunset.
Paraphrased blogs and condensed morsels of crude celebrity nudes for the I-Generation and
the remnants of New Labour and Thatcher’s Britain.
Anglers, caravans and 50 cent, half the demographic, half the price. Count me out.
I finger a few and find no real desire. The Internet offers this bilge up for free.
They’d all be nude and crapping on each other.
The great silicon toilet of humanity
Past freezers of long dead prisoners, pulped to perfection. Pigs in tubes and flat cow
concoctions.
Pancakes of vomit and fish dishes I won’t ever try. No time for it.
Frankenstein's monster behind glass slides.
Packets of sugar in various disguises. Cereal and chocolate, soft drinks and sauce dips.
Lattes and ladles, loofahs and loaves. The prattle returns through the shelving
I turn around the curries and there is the tie. Talking sport and hard drinking, women and
the weather. Looks me in the eye.
I turn before any interaction and feign interest in something, a scouring pad. Intricately
woven metal coils waste major concentration and he’s gone. Box checked, minimize and move on.
Everything shines in this weird three-quarter light, hypnotic. Confusing. Conscious of the
bottles ahead that I can’t ever touch. Seedy and appealing, puerile and appalling.
Something for everyone.
And nothing for me.
Bob, the cat, lives in the room number 13 of the sixth avenue.
He likes fish, rollercoaster, ice cream cones and Sunday papers.
He's an artist. He's a painter. When people ask him about his latest work, he answers:
"I'm painting the meaning of life. I'm coloring it black, but my inner self keeps telling me it's green."
He has gothic way of seeing materials and articles.
He wishes everyone to speak in fragments of literary lyrics, and then he would spend all his days tangling these fragments making an abstract form out of a puzzle.
He goes for a walk before breakfast; walking on two legs, wearing a leather jacket, and whistling after big ass women are his forte.
He passes Mr. Pumpkin floral shop, turns into the eighth avenue, and enters his favorite café called "Your Favorite Café".
He sits on the second chair at the second table, and orders a coffee:
"Black, dark and bitter like a cat's soul", he says to the waiter.
He sits there all morning, sipping his black coffee, dreaming about how it would be if his past, present and future selves exist together, thinking in sync, and communicating through a common medium of artistic sense, saying words in the silence notes of Van Gogh.
He dances all the way home. If anyone cares to ask, he says:
"I'm drunk in Coffea Arabica, a perfect weed to make you tantalize with Arabian dreams and gives your nerves a breakdown."
Dancing along the pavements, he counts the roses in beats.
One, two, three, four… two, two, three, four… three, two, three, four, and so on.
The number of roses is directly proportional to the number of steps he's gonna salsa in the bathroom.
He sits on the toilet bowl, and deciphers the problems with human rights.
He stands on one leg on the bathroom floor, with arms spread like hugging the air, mouth wide opens.
He squeaks like a mouse and tries to hop like a rabbit.
He falls hard, crashing the cold bathroom tiles.
He bleeds red like the color red.
He says "Perfect".
He runs into the bedroom. There stands his actual latest work, the heart of a vampire, portraying himself with a deadly cat fangs and a wicked mustache.
He splashes his blood all over the painting, and shouts "eureka".
He starts to hum Yankee Doodle through his nose.
He falls asleep, and dreams about dinner.
"Scramble eggs with tomatoes".
The cloud rained heavily on the boy, it stayed a while.
He tried to find somebody to help, but did not know the number to dial.
He stopped playing his beloved guitar,
Each dark cloud that passed him left a massive scar.
With the black cloud obstructing his view of outer space,
He was no longer able to rest in the puffy white clouds with his leg brace.
One night, a terrible feeling all over his body left him tossing and turning
A chill rolled up and down his spine, he woke up to his phone ringing and he started vomiting.
Kneeling over the toilet bowl, half asleep and fully confused,
He just knew something terrible had happened, this black cloud left this boy bruised.
The boy answered the call.
One of his good friend’s was found dead in the middle of the night they said.
His body fell against the bathroom wall and started to bawl,
He felt this coming with every toss and every turn that night.
The boy had the worst kind of blues so the boy and the girl went for a cruise
They did not know they were headed towards terrible news.
Stopped to get gas along the way
The boy started pondering if happiness is something he will ever find.
He thought his eyes must be playing a game with his mind,
He never thought he would witness a friend of his intoxicated to the point they were blind.
The boys’ friend drove head on into his most prized possession, his truck.
His optimism had already grown distant; his coat is no longer weather resistant.
The black cloud flooded his head with darkness; the boy knew it was no longer worth fighting.
The boy who was already weak from the clouds wrath,
Lost all of what was left of his hope; his mind was aiming to the most negative number in
terms of math.
The cloud rained heavily on the boy, it stayed a while.
He tried to find somebody to help, but did not know the number to dial.
The girl stayed optimistic, to this day she remained realistic.
Tries everyday to rid these clouds and help him from growing more pessimistic.
Tries hard to help him face the day and look beyond,
She is afraid of losing this boy and their extraordinary bond.
Using her knowledge and strength, she constantly tries to erase his negative mentality,
And fill that space with pieces of hopeful and positive reality.
But the cloud weighs more than he can take.
He believes the rest of his life is at stake.
I am in the Doctors Waiting Room
Waiting for my name to appear on the screen
I’ve been here for twenty minutes
Oh how much longer before I am seen
It’s embarrassing enough for me
Without the whole waiting room learning
That every time I use the loo
My pee has started burning
I sense the receptionist is highly amused
Though she tries to hide the fact
Then proclaims at the top of her voice
“Sounds like an infection in your urinary tract”
I can see all eyes upon me
As I go to take a seat
So I make my way towards it
While looking down at my feet
The TV on the wall blares out
An advert about a man called Giles
Informing you what measures to take
If you’re diagnosed with piles
There is an air of misery
And impending doom
Everyone thinking of all the flu viruses
Floating around the room
The lady sitting next to me
Stands up and shouts “outrageous!
If I have to wait much longer
I’ll catch something contagious”
A small boy is building with plastic bricks
Sat cross-legged on his own
While mum totally ignores him
Too busy on her mobile phone
I point out to her
A large poster on the wall
‘No mobile phones ever'!
She says “I’m talking to my boyfriend Paul”
There’s a sudden buzz of excitement
As a name appears on the screen
It’s of someone who'd got tired of waiting
They went home at two fifteen
There is the distinct harmonic sound
Of sniffing, coughing and wheezing
With an equal measure
Of moaning, groaning and sneezing
A sudden smell of disinfectant
Makes me catch my breath
My mother always said the waiting room
Had a distinct smell of death
My nose begins to run
And I really must take issue
With the man who stole my seat
When I got up to grab a tissue
My bladder's feeling full
I should have gone before i came
I daren't go to the loo
Because knowing my luck, they'll call my name
I really need to go
And decide to take the plunge
So I start upon my trip
Towards the toilet door I lunge
Safe inside the toilet
I am suddenly appalled
When I hear the tannoy whistle
And my name is being called
I pull myself together
And venture from the loo
It appears I’ve missed my turn
Someone took my place, I don’t know who
I approach the receptionist
And say “I really had to pee”
She says “Come back tomorrow,
Your appointment is ten past three”.
When you call me a beast, when you spit venom..
How can i love you? No: i shall die.
I saw your ships and people waiting for us;
so i waited too.
But my heart, my heart of all hearts,
did not like the sight of you, and went home
with no expectations, with the ghosts of all
your love boats gone; my heart of all hearts
will not believe.
The sun you showed me never rose again.
i am sad.
He puts himself in his little chair to read and leaves
to rejoin the hot sweat of the earth.
i saw him.
And he put his little eyes upon me.
i asked him to read my story.
i said i am writing it for you.
He took off his glasses.
Now i see that he is not a prince but a monkey.
His legs are crooked.
And his eyebrows are three sizes too big.
And his hair is black and white; his eyes are bright
yellow and red; and so the purple moustache and
the blue flowers that grow from his finger tips;
flesh he must peel with his fingers
or his teeth.
Oh, he said. (he says) You should not be afraid to write a story.
Writing is a little like being raped.
There is one girl in every house
and one girl in every room
and one girl in every
and one girl in the cubicle
of the toilet; and they are all my victims.
She does not want to be my victim;
but she is being my victim.
What is rape?
You think it is to carry a lock of hair.
What is rape?
When the pain of living is so strong
that there is no room for love.
Or they take away the most beautiful birds,
the creatures that fly and the animals with wings,
but leave the things that have no life,
like a spider or a fly or a dandelion,
to carry its seeds into the street
(she is my lover) to be eaten by rats and lice,
to live it is life in the straw of the morning air.
What is rape?
To take away the kisses, the eyes, the mouth,
the tenderness of your cheeks, the tiny lips,
to rape your body when your love is not in it.
I did not know this love, but now it is my burden
and it is my fault.
This is the meaning of its life in the straw of the morning air.
What is rape? To take away the kisses, the eyes, the mouth,
the tenderness of your cheeks, the tiny lips, to rape your body
when your love is not in it.
I did not know this love, but now it is my burden
and it is my fault.
This is the meaning of Life within flesh.
:: 01.19.2021 ::
Standing on the pier one sunny day,
Santa Barbara was sunny, and many children were on the beach at play.
I realized that a lot of blessings I've been given,
It felt good that I had everything and I had a life worth living.
The salt air filled the day along with a calm breeze,
Smelling the scent of salt and the crashing waves on the beach made me very at
ease.
God has fashioned a world that is majestic in it's scope,
Beautifully painted put together for us and it's no joke.
Take a good look around, take a good look and see,
Masterfully painted for us to enjoy a world made for you and me.
We as humans (not all), see our world being totally trashed,
Paper, cigarette butts, line up along the pillars that in itself is rash.
Unwittingly people don't think, and throw these items on the ground.
When just a few feet away there is a trash can, they are all around.
Why do people do this? When they fail to stop, think and see,
That the first rain storm sends all of this trash to the open sea.
Take a minute if you would and think? Reflect if we all did the same thing,
Our oceans would become a large toilet and what diseases it would bring.
Our Lord is wrathful, angry, seeing His masterpiece, His planet, being abused.
On this pier I reflect how fragile our oceans are, and I'm not at all amused.
Water on the planet is becoming more and more harder to find,
Clean water is becoming scarce, our race (Human), is really in a bind.
Nations shortly will go to war over this precious gift, it will become harder to find.
Add droughts, famine, water shortages, and the lack of rain, we must be blind.
All will add to the suffering of our race, a cause of a lot of pain.
Because ignoring God's laws He'll hold back the much needed rain.
So please for all of our sons and daughters and for all our sakes,
Make sure to put your trash in the cans provided a minute is all it takes.
I'm sure the garbage in your homes go to the proper can,
Why trash the ocean and the earth with garbage, help out your fellow man.
A little bit of thought and conscious mind, is the right thing to do,
It will make our Lord happy, and it starts with people like me and you.
God gave us this masterpiece for us to enjoy, a place of His beauty,
So keeping trash off the ground, is our gift to Him and it's our Christian duty.
Those leather pants fit perfectly
Against your skin. I can’t stop
Staring; You can’t stop teasing -
It keeps me up all night,
Struggling to
Keep shouting.
Nothing is resolved when you slam
The bedroom door - Don’t sleep
Angry. You know I hate it when you
Surprise me in the shower and
Turn the screws until I
Can’t even think. All the blood
Rushes to my head when I
Clutch the curtain – you know
I am there.
I see you see me as I
Hope we won’t wake up bitter in the morning,
Casting those cross couch glances and
Judging. Your eyes are killer
Aphrodisiacs, constantly seducing me
Like that time I had to
Pin you in the grass.
As the rain came down I kissed
Your lips and cradled you.
I can still close my eyes and hear you whisper
“You’ve left the toilet seat up again,”
I tell you that I’m sorry but we both know
In the dim light of the television set
I am barely listening.
You smile and shake your head,
For therein lies a flaw you choose to live with.
You swear, one of these days you are going to
Turn off the light and kiss
Every inch of my body
In honor of my being me,
And in honor of your being you,
I will return the favor.
Afterward, we’ll lie in love,
Smiling in a comfortable silence
Like the uncomfortable silences
At the ends of those trivial arguments
You start yet can’t finish.
There is no retort for my abashing.
You say you’re sorry but we both know
That you don’t really mean it,
So I make sacrifices I choose to live with.
I swear one of these days I am going to
Cook the most wonderful meal,
The kind where silence is a compliment
Ending with content smiles,
Doing the dishes,
Cursing at new shirt stains and small cuts
From knives hidden under soap water
Although
We don’t really mind the healing process.
I sleep and think, Tomorrow
I should walk to the jewelry store and look over
Diamonds, as I think of our
Long nights, walking through lit up old villages
Cuddling on the couch in the television light
Drunkenly kissing beside bonfires
Sharing friends and glances
And love and life for good or for worse,
Carrying the same heart.
I can always push that button
That has you turn me on,
Be it a laugh, a smile, a sting, or a bite.
We do what it takes to make us happy
And it works,
Especially when you put on
Those leather pants.