Short Sphincter Poems
Short Sphincter Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Sphincter by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Sphincter by length and keyword.
Apologies for my antics,
I am told I am a sphincter,
once in a while I pucker and kiss,
leave something on your face.
Lowbrow nasty, gross seepage,
poetic disgrace, for good imagery.
Limerick: Once a Barrister hired a Spinster
Once a Barrister hired a Spinster
To work his pump short of a sphincter
She bought piston and nuts
Fixed up the leaking guts
Then Spinster married Barrister’s sister.
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013
The feast was colossal; I’m not really grumbling.
I’m just feeling docile, except for the rumbling.
To put it it discreetly (I could be succincter):
I fear it’s completely defeating my sphincter.
---
Written 16 Dec 2018 for the "Succinct Treat" poetry contest.
Also entered in "Rhyme Battle XII" contest.
Frrrrt, frrrt, frrrt, ohhhhhhhhhh
here it comes, don't let go,
trying to hold it back, hold it in,
the sphincter always seems to win;
if there is no resounding blast
the odor surely lasts,
it wasn't me, no, not I
someone else just walked on by.
Chantelle Cooke's Fart-tastic contest 9/19/21
and when
bird, black skin
waves hi and grins
and then does it again?
penguin
----------
eye blinks
my instinct
detects distinct
baby sphincter high jinks
end stinks
----------
fruit tree
sin's entry
serpent sentry
promised wisdom plenty ~
empty
----------
sheepish
not finish
and diminish
wooly be bahd punished
by ewe?
An over active bladder
Is no laughing matter.
A subject mused by many a bard.
But the weakened sphincter
though not meant as a winkster,
makes interaction unusually hard
We normally eat and then go,
Sometimes the going is slow
and wasted time on the throne is spent.
But it is better by far
than to get out of the car,
and instead of going, we’ve went.
© Mar 12 2010 Charles Henderson
Smells like power
But tastes like chicken
Administrative duties
Make my pulse quicken
Repression wears a tie
Arrogance sports hose
Make Bossy smile
That’s how the garden grows
Timeclock sphincter
Clamped down tight
Constipation of thought
Absence of light
Artistic fire snuffed
Sculptor’s hand inert
Bottom line worship
Trade the smock for the shirt
Corporate aorta
Chocked with fat pride
With toad-lust for power
Freedom must collide