The Poetry Thread

[chew the fat]

The Bastard Factory Has Me ...
stunned,
startled,
aghast,
taken aback,
stupefied,
confused,
shocked,
rattled,
paralysed,
dazed,
bewildered,
mixed up,
surprised,
dumbfounded,
nonplussed,
flabbergasted,
astounded,
amazed,
confounded,
astonished,
overwhelmed,
horrified,
numbed,
speechless, and perplexed.

 

[chew the fat]

The Penis Poem

My nookie days are over, my pilot light is out,
What used to be my sex appeal is now my water spout!
Time was when, on its own, from my trousers it would spring,
But now it's just a full time job to find the fuckin thing!
It used to be embarrassing the way it would behave,
For every single morning it would stand & watch me shave!
Now, as old age approaches, it sure gives me the blues,
To see it hang its little head and watch me tie my shoes!

 

[chew the fat]

[] whizz []

When you're in the bog
To see a man about a dog
And you do a piss
And you miss
Shake your schlong in the air
Shake it here and shake there
Shake it up
Shake it down
Shake it all around
And don't be a clown
Put the toilet seat back down ... ​

 

[Jack]

Mary had a little sheep
And with the sheep she went to sleep
The sheep turned out to be a ram....
Mary had a little lamb!

 

[UncleDiLF]

**UncleDiLF’s Filthy SCAT Quest**
Out in the woods, with a grin so sly,
UncleDiLF wandered, eyes to the sky.
“Where’s the scat? The filth, the grime?
I’ll find it all—it's discovery time!”

A pile appeared, a steaming mound,
“Behold!” he cried, “The treasure I’ve found!”
“Berries? Bugs? Or something more?”
He poked it once—then twice, for sure.

Filthier still, he took a sniff,
“Oh, nature’s perfume!” said UncleDiLF.
But a breeze blew hard; his triumph fell,
As SCAT's rich aroma became his hell.

So here’s the tale, as gross as it gets,
Of SCAT, of filth, and zero regrets.
UncleDiLF, with his filthy flair,
Proved some adventures are best left *there*.

 

[chew the fat]

Trump lacks certain []'NO'[] qualities ...

no wit,
no class,+
no grace,+
no honor,+
no charm,+
no warmth,+
no wisdom,+
no subtlety,+
no humility,+
no coolness,+
no credibility,+
no sensitivity,+
no compassion ...

 

[chew the fat]

 

[Fredricka]

Necrophilijack

My name is Jack,
Im a necrophiliac
I shag dead men and I shag dead women
I get frustrated
when they're cremated
Cuz try as I must i can't shag dust
My name is Sean
And I'm into gay porn
I see a bum and I can't help but cum
I'm just like jack im a necrophiliac
I shag dead men and I shag dead women
I get frustrated
when they're cremated
Cuz try as I must I can't shag dust
My name is Russ,
And I'm incestuous
I shag my mother and I bugger my brother
I'm just like Sean, I'm into gay porn
I see a bum and I can't help but cum
I'm just like jack,
I'm a necrophiliac
I shag dead men and I shag dead women
I get frustrated
when they're cremated
Cuz try as I must I cant shag dust

Anon

 

[chew the fat]

 

[Admin.]

I was a bum in San Francisco
but once managed to go to a symphony concert along with the well-dressed people

and the music was good
but something about the audience was not
and something about the orchestra and the conductor was not,
although the building was fine and the acoustics perfect
I preferred to listen to the music alone on my radio

and afterwards I did go back to my room and I turned on the radio
but then there was a pounding on the wall:
"SHUT THAT GOD-DAM*ED THING OFF!"
there was a soldier in the next room living with his wife

and he would soon be going over there to protect me from H*tler
so I snapped the radio off and then heard his wife say, "you shouldn't have done that."
and the soldier said, "F*CK THAT GUY!"
which I thought was a very nice thing for him to tell his wife to do.
of course, she never did.

anyhow, 
I never went to another live concert
and that night I listened to the radio very quietly,
my ear pressed to the speaker.

war has its price
and peace never lasts
and millions of young men everywhere would die

and as I listened to the classical music I heard them making love,
desperately and mournfully,
through Shostakovich, Brahms, Mozart,
through crescendo and climax,

and through the shared wall of our darkness.

~ Charles Bukowski