Poetry

[pogo_gamer]

 :/\  Would anyone besides me like to see a thread for poems here or am I alone in this I can take the pros n cons, go ahead give it to me straight, I wont  :'((

[Homer]

Make it toilet poetry and your on.

I'm not slow, and I'm not dumb,
But restroom signs, aren't no fun,
Too obscure, my eyes are blurred,
Which is which, can't tell a word,
So put up a sign, with drunkards in mind,
And make it clear, where to put my behind.

[harley89]

That is to funny Homer  :))   But I would enjoy a little poetry either the potty type or the real thing

[pogo_gamer]

Toilet huh  >>:D

Those who write on chithouse walls, roll their chit in little balls, Those who read this word of wit, Eat those tiny little balls of chit

Now that is not what I meant, but if in it get us a thread, well the  >>:D made me do it

[Homer]

Roses are Red Poems

Noses are red, faces are blue,
You stunk up the can, with the fart that you blew.

Roses are red, to freshen the loo,
To cover the stench, in the mall restroom.

The roses are dead, the warnings are true,
That god awful stench, must have come outta you.

Roses are red, toilets are white,
I'm forcing it out, with all of my might.

Roses are pink, toilets can stink,
The pipes are all plugged, gotta piss in the sink.

Roses are red, and they smell pretty too,
but not when they grow, in big piles of poo.

Roses are red, and have thorns that can cut,
So don't ever use them, to wipe your bare butt.

Roses are black, and may represent death,
I can't stand the stench, am on my last breath.

Roses are red, Violets are blue
The dog took a crap, in your favorite new shoes

Roses are red, Violets are blue
I'm sure it's been said, that your farts are not few

Roses are red, Violets are green
Try sitting instead, you spray when you're peein'

[Homer]

A fart can be quiet,
A fart can be loud,
Some leave a powerful,
Poisonous cloud.

A fart can be short,
Or a fart can be long,
Some farts have been known,
To sound just like a song.

Some farts do not smell,
While others are vile,
A fart may pass quickly,
Or linger awhile.

A fart can create
A most-curious medley,
A fart can be harmless,
Or silent, but deadly.

A fart can occur
In a number of places,
And leave everyone
With strange looks on their faces.

From wide-open prairies,
To small elevators,
A fart will find all of us
Sooner or later.

So be not afraid
Of the invisible gas,
For always remember,
That farts, too, shall pass.

[pogo_gamer]

OMG TFF  I am rolling now, Now I see I can post a little bit on the graphic side, I will be Bible thumped by days end  :))

[Homer]

Most of the really bad words have been censored. Just try not to get too salty with the talk so I don't get people complaining. :/\

[pogo_gamer]

Gentleman, step up and take aim, it's shorter than you think, And remember to turn around before you decide to stink

And I have this in our main bath    Be like Pop, Not like Sis, Raise the lid before you piss !!

[pogo_gamer]

OK, can and will do, I don't want anyone upset, quite the contrary, I love to make people laugh  O0

[Homer]

I changed the topic. :/\

[pammer]

if you sprinkle
when you tinkle
be a sweety
wipe the seaty

[gator8_24]

if you sprinkle
when you tinkle
be a sweety
wipe the seaty

One  place I worked had that in the bathroom for the guys to read.  :))

[gator8_24]

  Homer, I didn't realize you were so full of...................................poetry!

[Homer]

  Homer, I didn't realize you were so full of...................................poetry!

That would be pooetry.  :)))

[bams68]

I am a huge poetry writer and I love reading and sharing pieces, so it's great sumone started a topic here. It crossed my mind a few times but I am not one to start alot of topics, although I do try...much more of a replyer I guess....so here is abit of my stuff. Enjoy O0


Comments are welcome - good or bad....all good to me.


BLEEDED N TWISTED
You crawled in my ear,
settled in my brain
I'm numbed by your voice,
beaten down by your rain
I feel like shouting,
but I want to pass away
There is so much to be said,
but no words left to say
Your words were too much for me,
my mind too small
Truth is what I wanted,
truth's what made me fall
Maybe it's worse to see
than to be blind
But when I close my eyes,
tears are what I find
At these times I wonder what keeps me from dope
And instead of some pills,
it's my pen I grope
Eyes bloodshot,
hands are fisted
Your words left me bleeding and twisted

~bams~

[pogo_gamer]

Wow, powerful words, thx for posting it  O0

[pogo_gamer]

'Twas the night before Christmas and Santa's a wreck...
How to live in a world that's politically correct?
His workers no longer would answer to "Elves".
"Vertically Challenged" they were calling themselves.
And labour conditions at the North Pole
were alleged by the union to stifle the soul.

Four reindeer had vanished, without much propriety,
Released to the wilds by the Humane Society.
And equal employment had made it quite clear
That Santa had better not use just reindeer.
So Dancer and Donner, Comet and Cupid
Were replaced with 4 pigs, and you know that looked stupid!

The runners had been removed from his sleigh;
The ruts were termed dangerous by the E.P.A.
And people had started to call for the cops
When they heard sled noises on their rooftops.
Second-hand smoke from his pipe had his workers quite frightened.
His fur trimmed red suit was called "Unenlightened."

And to show you the strangeness of life's ebbs and flows,
Rudolf was suing over unauthorised use of his nose
And had gone on Geraldo, in front of the nation,
Demanding millions in over-due compensation.
So, half of the reindeer were gone; and his wife,
Who suddenly said she'd enough of this life,

Joined a self-help group, packed, and left in a whiz,
Demanding from now on her title was Ms.
And as for the gifts, why, he'd never had a notion
That making a choice could cause so much commotion.
Nothing of leather, nothing of fur,
Which meant nothing for him. And nothing for her.

Nothing that might be construed to pollute.
Nothing to aim, Nothing to shoot.
Nothing that clamoured or made lots of noise.
Nothing for just girls, or just for the boys.
Nothing that claimed to be gender specific.
Nothing that's warlike or non-pacifistic.

No candy or sweets...they were bad for the tooth.
Nothing that seemed to embellish a truth.
And fairy tales, while not yet forbidden,
Were like Ken and Barbie, better off hidden.
For they raised the hackles of those psychological
Who claimed the only good gift was one ecological.

No baseball, no football...someone could get hurt;
Besides, playing sports exposed kids to dirt.
Dolls were said to be sexist, and should be passe;
And Nintendo would rot your entire brain away.
So Santa just stood there, dishevelled, perplexed;
He just could not figure out what to do next.

He tried to be merry, tried to be gay,
But you've got to be careful with that word today.
His sack was quite empty, limp to the ground;
Nothing fully acceptable was to be found.
Something special was needed, a gift that he might
Give to all without angering the left or the right.

A gift that would satisfy, with no indecision,
Each group of people, every religion;
Every ethnicity, every hue,
Everyone, everywhere...even you.
So here is that gift, it's price beyond worth...
May you and your loved ones, enjoy peace on Earth.




'Twas the night before Christmas and Santa's a wreck...
How to live in a world that's politically correct?
His workers no longer would answer to "Elves".
"Vertically Challenged" they were calling themselves.
And labour conditions at the North Pole
were alleged by the union to stifle the soul.

Four reindeer had vanished, without much propriety,
Released to the wilds by the Humane Society.
And equal employment had made it quite clear
That Santa had better not use just reindeer.
So Dancer and Donner, Comet and Cupid
Were replaced with 4 pigs, and you know that looked stupid!

The runners had been removed from his sleigh;
The ruts were termed dangerous by the E.P.A.
And people had started to call for the cops
When they heard sled noises on their rooftops.
Second-hand smoke from his pipe had his workers quite frightened.
His fur trimmed red suit was called "Unenlightened."

And to show you the strangeness of life's ebbs and flows,
Rudolf was suing over unauthorised use of his nose
And had gone on Geraldo, in front of the nation,
Demanding millions in over-due compensation.
So, half of the reindeer were gone; and his wife,
Who suddenly said she'd enough of this life,

Joined a self-help group, packed, and left in a whiz,
Demanding from now on her title was Ms.
And as for the gifts, why, he'd never had a notion
That making a choice could cause so much commotion.
Nothing of leather, nothing of fur,
Which meant nothing for him. And nothing for her.

Nothing that might be construed to pollute.
Nothing to aim, Nothing to shoot.
Nothing that clamoured or made lots of noise.
Nothing for just girls, or just for the boys.
Nothing that claimed to be gender specific.
Nothing that's warlike or non-pacifistic.

No candy or sweets...they were bad for the tooth.
Nothing that seemed to embellish a truth.
And fairy tales, while not yet forbidden,
Were like Ken and Barbie, better off hidden.
For they raised the hackles of those psychological
Who claimed the only good gift was one ecological.

No baseball, no football...someone could get hurt;
Besides, playing sports exposed kids to dirt.
Dolls were said to be sexist, and should be passe;
And Nintendo would rot your entire brain away.
So Santa just stood there, dishevelled, perplexed;
He just could not figure out what to do next.

He tried to be merry, tried to be gay,
But you've got to be careful with that word today.
His sack was quite empty, limp to the ground;
Nothing fully acceptable was to be found.
Something special was needed, a gift that he might
Give to all without angering the left or the right.

A gift that would satisfy, with no indecision,
Each group of people, every religion;
Every ethnicity, every hue,
Everyone, everywhere...even you.
So here is that gift, it's price beyond worth...
May you and your loved ones, enjoy peace on Earth.

[pogo_gamer]

Now I sit, eyes blurred with tears
Looking at my system's screen
Finding, after all these years
I know the patterns, not what they mean.

I've read all the books, spent all my time
On SQL, Irix and C++ -
And now, once all is done, I find
In only programs do I trust.

A flashing cursor, is now much more -
I know this now, it seems so odd
That I could not hear its voice before
As I look in the eyes of the Machine God -

Pulsing oh so steadily
Your rhythms call to me -
Take me from darkness, and into the light -

From users night and day
You take their fears away -
Give them a new place, that they can call home -

I hear your hopes and dreams
Hidden in datastreams -
Giving your children the things that they need.

I see it coming through
Coming to me from you -
And I see clearer than ever before.

My God, with your programs controlling me
And your passcodes consoling me,
How could I not see that I've found my way home?

Open your arms to me, I pray -
One touch from you and I'll know the way -
From you all knowledge stems forth, I say -
For when all things are said and done -
It all comes to a zero or one -
And I fear that which I have become -

*$&@$&@&$*$
(screaming)
(long silence)

My God, My God, why have you turned on me?
All I ever asked for was to see as you see -
I know your electrons can still save me -
What have I . . .
what have I . . .
what have I . . .
what . . . have . . . I . . .

(silence) 

[pogo_gamer]

 
Heredity is very strange
It's quite a peculiar creature
Attaching itself to you
Determining the look of every feature
The color of your eyes
How long you'll keep your hair
Or if you must reach for glasses
Which never seem to be there
Will your body be built like a champion
Or will you suffer from defeat
It decides everything about you
From your head down to your feet
I'm sure someone has said
You look just like your father
And five minutes later
You look just like your mother
Maybe you've even been told
You look like neither one
You see, it all depends
Which side of the family they are from
But ask me and I'll say
I'm just like good- ole- dad
I seem to have inherited it all
The good things and the bad