Pigsty Poems | Examples

monorhyme for fun

Why oh why asked Old Lady Spry
Do they always die without saying bye?
Her husband Kai let out a loud sigh
Put eggs on high that he was trying to fry

This is a true story, assured my neighbor Vi
Kai’s omelet included warm cheese of brie.
I knew it right away, ‘cause I am sort of a spy.
I can see in their window if I really try.

Their house is a bit of a challenge, a real pigsty.
This is almost the full truth; I rarely tell a lie.
Persnickety Lady Spry winks and always says “hi”.
She gave my husband a Santa Christmas tie.

It was nothing the old hag had to go out and buy.
Repurposed from her deadbeat ex-husband Cy.
Vi then gave us a good-bye, for she had to fly.
Heading to Canada with Ty, her new guy.

He’s super sweet, backwards, and weirdly shy
But I might be in love with this goof-pot said Vi.
She falls in love fast had stated Old Lady Spry.
This is the truth, my friends, for I do not lie.

Opaqueness of Faith

They've been talking about the end times
since the beginning of our time.
The will of fear is to keep us in line
Will I be cherry picked for heaven
or tossed to the pigsty.

I have an opaque flavor of faith
never fully believing in things 
that I've never really felt or seen.
So, I'll probably be going down fast
when all the carnage and chaos hit the fan.
but for now, I'm riding dorsal fin waves 
lighting the fuse and consuming the blast.

The Pigs Want To Know

Would you, would you, so...?
Would you lie in a pigsty?
Would you, would you, NO

With the Birds

more to life than meets the eye ~ said the blind man who slipped in a pigsty 

but some swine oinked pigs might fly ~ this trip up will cause a huge overfly 

and sure enough as days went by ~ eyes appeared damn vultures in the sky 

the lesson learnt here don’t ask why ~ sh!t just happens when in oversupply

I Gotta Laugh So I Don'T Cry

Sometimes I Gotta Laugh, So I Don't Cry
Am I the punch line for life’s cruel joke?
Bad luck follows me, don’t ask me why
Oh geez, I think I’m gonna need a smoke

Moved to a small town to meet some nice folk
One said, "Come on over for some apple pie!"
I came home to my belongings, all gone or broke
Sometimes I gotta laugh, so I don't cry

After cleaning the inside, as it was a pigsty
I found the outside to be covered in yolk
A house in what kind of town did I buy!
Am I the punch line for life’s cruel joke?

The next morning to a new challenge, I awoke
A tornado had come down from the sky
Through my new houses roof was a fallen oak
Bad luck follows me, don’t ask me why

My humor has gone from jovial to wry
As I tried to relax in the tub for a soak
Snow came through the roof hole I patched *Sigh*
Oh geez, I think I’m gonna need a smoke

After earthquakes, termites, an angry cowpoke 
I thought the end to my pitfalls was certainly nigh
Should have knocked on wood or thought before I spoke
I sit alone with no toilet paper, not even one ply
Sometimes I gotta laugh….


November 15, 2022
Pick-A-Title, Vol 33 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh

I Am Alone In This Nonsense

I said good-bye to my do-or-die.
My pigsty attached to my left eye.
Are you shy? Asked my guy Nigh.
Why should I try? I asked with a sigh.

You make little sense said my cousin Cy.
Hi I yelled as I skated past this spy.
Did you want pie? Math asked so sly.
You mean pi? I returned, flying high.

Hurry, Frat Boy, Hurry

his date on her way
speed-tidying apartment ~
a royal pigsty



Date written:12/30/2021

Amazing How the Pearls Are Flung

Amazing how the pearls are flung
Before the swine these days, and I
Can hardly understand any
Decision to do so by otherwise
Enterprising individuals.
Funny how the swine devour the
Gifts of insincere folks who cast
Handfuls of nuggets their way
Ingratiating them, while
Judging them unfit or unworthy,
Keeping them in the pigsty
Languishing, denying them upward
Mobility and almost
Never allowing them to fling
Open their gates and
Put their feet on earth’s upper crust.
Quite honestly, 
Riches and fame and eventual
Success are denied the swine
Too often, 
Until measuring their worth in
Various cuts of meat,
While standing before the butcher’s
X-rated slabs of raw cuts
Yes, waiting to be sold like pieces of
Zombies, dead and slowly rotting.

Written June 30, 2021

City Life

Chasing the Goodlife
Traveling far in packed trains
Wonder why I can’t see sky

Narrow lanes, pigsty
Close my eyes to begging kids
Needy, feeling within me.

CITY LIFE
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
Date: 2.11.2020

Island Moon

I’ve loved your face, night and days of changing milk rays
Sighs in blue and black, of times gone back; now so slack
Love surely does wane, then mind’s sane…what’s to regain? 
And the road, in dirt’s goad climbs winding pigsty mode
New moon midnight, holds tight a dark that can’t relight
Damned are the seeds, as they’ve turned to weeds: What inbreeds!

Mother who never did bother to write further
Only too late, her full fate, was father’s sad state
Oh lies have made me cry, but truth, is fair skies
No more half turns, I have learned, those tides I will spurn. 

(7/25/2020  For Funom's keen observation contest; '62 Tradewinds 33; DMS)

Cletus O'Toole Yearns To Fly

Cletus O'Toole had always yearned to fly

   He joined the Air Force to give it a try

      He tried a daring chandelle

         It didn't go all that well

            Cletus crashed in the muck of a pigsty

I Stand By

I Stand By
The Reason Why

It was not me that made you cry...

As you were the one with a hard head
You the one that always said
That you had made your own bed
And I can go sleep in the shed

So whats the point of my wondering why
If I could even have tried
To change my own pigsty
To one that included you and I

As I'd rather sleep in a shed
Than to share your smelly bed
And for me to wake up every morning
As a pig no longer mourning..

So I stand by
The Reason Why
That you will never make me cry
But what about the piggies that you wanted..
As who looks after the unwanted?

DAMOx

Death and Taxes

Listen up lowlife, I make greatness look trite,
Arrogance so far below me, I’m way out of sight,
The whole world’s something, stuck to my shoe,
Never wear mainstream, only designer brand new. 

Could not care less, weather you live or die
Be sure your funeral cortège stops, as I pass by,
Don’t even look at me, gaze upon the ground, 
Better not breathe same air, when I’m around. 

Completely flawless, no mirror can reflect me,
Chosen by myself, to judge everyone that I see,
When speaking put polished marbles in my mouth,
Step outside our mansion, everything goes south. 

Family’s so privileged, only private tutors we seek,
When at the opera, have our own personal suite,
Only best Moët Chandon, passes through my lips,
No matter how good the service, I never give tips.

Yes obnoxiously happy, confident I’ll never die,
So just go and wallow, but find your own pigsty,
I’m a total master class, in unbridled snobbery,
Made my billions, defrauding the IRS in robbery. 

By
David Kavanagh

Hallow Hubris

Hello, moss-covered dirt suckers,
it’s a darkly new dawn
for a good autumnal leaf chew

Mulch to do ‘bout nothing,
Jack-o-Lanterns all want a toothy kiss
We’re living in tricky times,
so treat yourself to some hallow hubris

Mephisto risque morbid masquerade
sho’ got a gallows ballroom neon a-glitter glow
Disguised motives on a contraband traffic flow,
illegal cargo valet parked in the shade

Hollow pitch fork,  pigsty pluckers ...
money parasitic leech suck, roll in the miry muck
Stool pigeon eyes pecking and clucking for a buck:
backward collar tombstone tuckers

Goodbye, vodka-breath, tart tongue demon twist,
lullaby to that crimson moon crypt croon
Falling debris of void entropy comes soon,
zombies on the chigger move to the hallow hubris

The Don'T Dos

They were the don’t dos
And we loved them like family
Only better

We don’t do dishes
We don’t do chores
We don’t do cleaning
We don’t do more

They lived in squalor,
They lived in a mess.
They lived in a pigsty
Their house was casual at best

We don’t dust
We don’t de-bug
We don’t vacuum
Come see our rug!

The don’t dos truly did not do
Their willingness to be so not
Made them neighbors keenly sought

I loved being at their house 
Where I could throw down my lunch
Behind a couch, where it’d make a crunch

Casual them, casual me.  
It was the best place for 
A messy kid to be.

• Short Pigsty Poems
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