Glad you enjoyed it. Do you also like (inappropriate) nursery lims?


Like hickory dickory dock
Her fingers had run up my cock,
But on stroke number one
I fired off my gun,
And never got into her frock.

Like higglety pigglety then,
She consorted with gentlemen ten.
They all nulled her void
While I sat 'n toyed
With jackin' my beanstalk again.

But then I met Georgie the Porgie
Who invited me out to an orgy
Where boys came to play,
And all I can say
Is I wish I could sit, but I'm soregie.

Where's liddle diddle?
I gave them a riddle
as I bent over and mooned,
the little nurse laughed to see my bum,
then the bitch hit my cock with a spoon!

Will

How does the strand
on my knee stand

still

and yet evade
the razor's blade?

[This message has been edited by Lae (edited January 05, 2002).]

Nose Picking

Here lie the bones of Willy Carr,
who picked his nose but went too far,
his brains fell out
now there's no doubt
they're safer pickled in a jar.


Ear Picking

One of the things that attracts,
is searching my ears for wax,
when I ladle it out
and use it for grout
and papering over the cracks.

Toe Picking

I love when I'm picking my toes,
I keep them laid out in rows,
along the top shelf shelf
I choose them myself,
and make sure that they go with my clothes.

Jim

i would say there are subjects, not too small (for you
can ennoble anything by taking it seriously & applying
imagination & style--) but too large for poetry. i know,
many of the great poems we venerate from back when, deal
with these things. but when people had attitudes in
common, there was an awful lot that could be taken for
granted. nowadays, i do believe, when one tries to
write about much of the violent absurdity that
our corporations take for "news", a poem can find no
toehold. it is terrible, but meaningless. and how many
times can you say that & keep it fresh?

now, if you yourself are living in a village, say,
that gets bombed, then it becomes a matter of personal
experience & the lyric, as we all know--is timeless.


[This message has been edited by graywyvern (edited January 31, 2002).]

heres a not so often writen about topic... SNOT!

crazy hair follicals and cillia covered in clean mucous
flowing silently into and out of my cavity
I am made prisoner to this devilish fiend
Deciding with out warning to constrict my breath

The canal flows with clean brilliant air
giving life to the most pure portions of being
respiration, inhalition, the heavenly bliss of
Freedom, Nondrowsy sudafed, and a good nights sleep

I have fought the demon many atime
covering the wounds with 2 ply paper.
seeping the evil into its rough surface
momentarily stunning the enemy

But this cold, this winter night.
Will not stop here. For tomarrow when I wake.
I will be forced to confront this evil villian
My fears are fullfilled when waking I choke
on my own snot

Plastic Flowers


Plastic flowers,
outlasting all others
make florists madder.
and because
they last longer than people
these immortelles
make cemeteries sadder.

I'll play!

Sliver shining warmth that glows
My face on your surface shows

Burning with the hot desire
Butter my bread, light my fire

Sometimes in despair or woe
In the bathtub you may go

Shocking truth revealed to most
Better to use you for making toast

Snot, toasters, yes no subject too small. Here's one from me.


Hairy Mole


On your chin
is where I stay,
put there by
your DNA.

Unsightly dot!
I’d rather hide
in a private place
on your backside,

inside your thigh,
behind your knee.
Instead I’m set
for all to see.

From my pore
one bristly hair
grows long and black.
See it there?

Straight as grass,
this hair I sprout,
long as an eyebrow’s.
Pluck it out.

Wax it off,
shave or hack.
The root is deep.
The hair grows back.

And I have darkened
in the sun
in the fifty years
since you’ve been one.

I’ll be with you
even when
you’re in your coffin.
Even then.

Until that time
if you can’t prize me,
look away
but don’t despise me.

Its dr suess meets... moles. I like it. Now here is one to take the cake.


Pnuemonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconeosis
Pnuemonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconeosis
It is a king of kings
Thawrting all villians
Antidisestablismentarianism
HA I laugh at your puny size
Or perhaps the formitable opponet
Supercalifragalisticexpealidocious
still shy still shy
And then the long word on the back of shampoos
that no one
Can pronounce
Still falls short. Defeated.
By the 19 syllable monster.