Short Dung Poems
Short Dung Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Dung by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Dung by length and keyword.
i’m worthy of nothing, and deserving of all
my couplet cost but a sh*t, yet turned out a ball
By
David Kavanagh
taste my pencil fingers.
can you taste the poem I wrote for you?
the poems I may still write?
why the sour look?
tastes like scat?
sorry wrong hand.
An article about a dung beetle
Says they devour matter that’s faecal
Imagine eating pooh
It’s what dung beetles do
The fetor of their breath must be lethal!
08-19-17
in the manure,
grows the flower
ever-sweet is the shower
of rancid skunk juice
that ferments mist the tower
a rodents pile dung
4/1/24
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2024©
what is he rolling up the road? a child asked them.
We snickered and hollered and hooted, said his Uncle Clem
What do you think it is? Aunt Marta threw in with a bit of glee
For of course it was poo, him being a dung-beetle see.
Crap dung excrement;
Discharged BM;
Defecation discharge fecal matter;
~
Wasted number two;
Deuce feculence faces manure;
Poop muck droppings ordure;
~
Guano guand cowpats
Dung know
4/26/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2020
Listen to poem:
Treasures Midden
David J Walker
It is in the midden
The story hidden
In the heap
The truth entwined
With dung and grime
To keep
As secrets from the
Eyes less bold
Where orates swear
To the foulest air from
Truth in scripted told
The dung heap
Is where the
Cleric keeps
His gold
the butterfly said
to the fly why you fly smell
eat dung/manure
the fly told him this
butterfly because the foods
aroma essence
yum-same as nectar
provides me like your flower
pleasures substance sweet
sweet nectar from the
flower butterfly sucks up
transplants spits transfers
cleansing fly lands on
the fly lite on manure
stinky dung yum-yum
7/19/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2023©
Ammonia-ed clumps of damp, dunged straw
forked onto her cold barrow, then rolled outside.
Across the field where her ninety pounds
thrust up the dray atop a mulching mound!
Nineteen times before the sour dregs
are swallowed by the day.
Bowed tendons stripe her calloused palms with pain.
She racks each open with a metal comb
to rake her horse’s mane.
Stall cleaned; horse fed, mane combed to shine as gold-
Showered, she brings her smile to our bed.
As a hurting song is being sung,
At a white polo shirt is flung
What can have been a cow’s dung
And on same it foully clung
And on a nearby face hung;
All a hurried indiscreet challenge
By one refusing to change,
As though it is beyond his range,
The idea pointblank strange
Or one’s denial of a sweet orange!
At last, the fastest arrangement for a detergent,
Lest victim should arrange his brother sergeant…
“Once again, the quick-to-burst temper
Proving it can with a lot tamper.