Unclench your sphincter
to better see
the world around you
and reality.
Survey the landscape
thru a forests tree's
spot the misconceptions
of what's to be.
These lefty loons
they prefer dysfunction
while spreading lies
without compunction.
Big changes are needed
we just can't wait
the deceit they hide
intended to obfuscate.
They'll side with fraud
and bureaucratic waste
against the working man
where the burdens placed.
Their in disguise
the evil few
making claims
that just aren't true.
So pull your head out
from beneath the sand
and see what's true
then you'll understand!!
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.
i'm confused
at that Dooley
one eyed
sphincter
cat
it
has
two
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?
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
Good old-fashioned wisdom is dead
It's been devoured by mental reflex
lack of impulse control and hate
tongues are no longer instruments
of intellect and understanding
but are being used as sledgehammers
of ignorance -crushing differences of opinion
no more handshakes or healthy debates
only busted knuckles and AK-47s-
Only a holy man can pull us from
the sphincter of ourselves
but I see none that fit the bill
only charlatans...
those with satin throats
and granite hearts
bathing in collection plates
suckling the teat of mayhem.
Holy man, if you do exist, the time is now
to do something miraculous
leave no doubt in our minds
of your existence.
Come to us in a universal vision; an effigy in a cup of tea would be alright with me.
Let us have a glimpse of the timelessness of hope and heaven.
Holy man, please come forward,
strike down these many devils.
Spare the good people.
They are beyond desperate and weep in solitude.
Pootie Mac
Little fella got a big gas tank
If Pootie roll on by,
and you down low try
to pump a fake cry
Mac gonna give a mean honk
A huge sphincter toot,
that’s gut fuel premium rank
Guaranteed to stop all the traffic noise
of rumor-for-hire boys
So if you get kicked to the curb,
and wanna know why ...
Mr. Mac will moon roof truth tell you:
“Bald tire exhale sputter don’t get no thanks,
or ‘Be safe’ goodbye”
Pootie gon narrowly, back end utter:
‘Cous, you’re a lie ... and your breath stank
Tho’ the soft voice has an aristocratic tone,
the haughty attitude ain’t no street gutter different:
Being rude ... dropping shade
Dark keystroke mood,
shallow indigo indifference shown
Another bad online day made
Royal pain of a social media princess
giving good grief
With a sunny disposition staged
That same persona
is acting out in public again —
Digital tongue intoxicated by the viral fame
Drunken thoughts of superiority
are spilled on the laptop
As her mental runt rants spew more shame
But[t] always couched behind banal positivity,
trite emoji expressions
Mousy pooter loves to sphincter the blame
The same gaslight persona
is acting out in the public forum again —
Low heel clicks from lattice lips
Drama queen on a toilet spin,
gossip lovers say she has such a hater handle
Royal flush of a sent sewer clip
Petty web of inane intrigue
got much diva curiosity following her
A Twitter litter trail of trash-talking catnip
Different window dressing edit, peppermint vetted,
has the same bittersweet facade —
Hard candy hits from her gentle fingertips
my mind
keeps
thinking
sphincter
a friend's
cat's name
but it had
two eyes
Brown nose,
head bowed low
Sniffing submissively so
Wag the sniveling tongue,
show the power privileged ones
much servile love
Catch the prime scraps
tossed from your master’s table
Give a howl of gratitude,
back bent ... eyes to the floor
Do a lot of begging for a little more
Disgruntled windbag gas,
from the top cat sphincter mouth crack,
wafts in an odious fashion
Pet brown noses love that unappetizing smell
Obsequious odor
is their collared passion
Pungent leftover scent passed over
bottom end face down —
Complete compliance drool dripping
grovel to the ground
Beggarly you beagle bark
for an extra morsel
Missy gives you a moonshine treat
out the backdoor
Brown nose do as you’re told,
and your belly
will always stay belch full
Sleepy eyes resting by the Uncle Tom cabin fire,
the odor of rotten servitude pleases you
So in lap tongue love with your desired
bowel oppression fate
As you dog-eared wait
for an anticipated olfactory taste
of the next tummy toilet pull
Feeling a rumbling deep in my gut
I'm not quite sure what that’s all about
as I clench the sphincter in my butt.
Something rank is trying to get out
and based upon my bloated bowel
it's going to succeed; I've no doubt.
I might need to throw in the towel
as past experiences affirm
and yet, I fear its stench could be foul.
An internal pressure makes me squirm
and I’m counting down to the blastoff
when this gassy build-up comes to term.
There is no way I can put this off
and yet, to concede may not be smart
even when it’s disguised, with a cough.
What if it turns out it's not a fart,
but its embarrassing counterpart?
Terza Rima
04,04,2019
quirky tercets poetry contest
Sponsor: Nina Parmenter
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.
Backdoor sound byte diarrhea hurls
Sticky tongue bowel overflow
Little green froggies say the Apollo man from Mars
ain’t gonna fighter plane land
in a nuclear day or so
Sphincter hole toilet bowl saliva swirls
got an oven baked brownie glow
Little kyrptonite toadies say the Venus-born superwoman
wanna lead Pilate the flyby band,
be a peace hawk sis bro’
Such lyrical lying done on a mythical scale ...
it reeks of,
you don’t wanna know
Lying kings and queens —
Roaring eagles of the blue sky
are on a soaring, white cloud predator prowl
Flying below the radar;
dropping constipated truth bombs,
which nay palm skin burn
with strategic flush, royal greed accuracy
Lying low bow silo, with uranium stealth arrows,
in the waste land dead zone
Noxious fear vapors on a vulture mushroom blow
Fiery serpent wing plume shadows
give more territory to own
Much lying done on a global kill scale ...
it reeks of death,
and you don’t wanna know that smell
Extinction level pyre inhale
W2 Three trust me,
you don’t ever wanna nostril feel
that rotting, bone ash exhale
Most dastardly
Executive Majesty,
we serve at your pique pleasure
obsequiously so
Yea, Darth Lord,
we be the surreptitious, servile ones:
Leper skin publicans, publicly hiss reviled
Tonsil rear ends torqued low
is our mealy-mouth status quo
We’re liquored up lap dogs
Always lip bent overly yours
Tongue rolls of surfeit flattery,
buttery tones of praise gluttony piled on
Nay, Imperial Vader,
we echo only your strident, bellyaching growls
from our sphincter pie holes
Boast bastardly
King El Presidente,
and we cower at your cheek displeasure
ingratiatingly so
Our speech undignified,
flesh market wench pride
was thirty silver pieces sold
minus six-feet degrees below
Aye, Commander-in-Chief Bellow Nero ...
Imp patient Sanballast ground zero,
your every atomic jinn wish gets grovel granted
We bow mice-men be the fawn minion pagan pawn devotees,
submissively submitting to such spittle humiliation willingly
Ever always lip bent overly yours
Polly Jez don’t ever ‘pologize
Curt cracker tongue
spit the hate cloudy issue high
Got black gunpowder love,
bullet hole
between the breast
And white tufts of tawdry deeds,
foolish follicles
sprouting on the chest
P Jez Is a belle —
princess Cain be a sweet talk squawker
Crooked beak
who loves raising hell
Polly lips speaking so foul:
Sphincter hole pirate speech
be saltine cracker chip droppings
from the backside of a cow
Polly Jez won’t ever crybaby ‘pologize
Murder She Wrote is inked in her eyes
With gestures of a whore,
pouty mood woos often be-fowl Jez
Wicked witch, evil does ...
Giving smoking barrel corrupt counsel
is the cracker thing Polly puffs best
Polly want a cracker,
Jez want yours too
Mimicking tone of a greedy hacker ...
Stealing morally bankrupt souls
is what pickpocket patch-eye
parrot flirties do
Listen here, carat cracker bird brains:
Don’t let a Polly Jez parrot
flirt-tease cage you
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