- RT @KlassyFucker: This is a real 1974 anti pot add, this has NEVER happened when high, challenge accepted! 🏅 https://t.co/pTDwPiUVeo 09:55:33 AM February 14, 2016
- New Poo-em RT @OriginalGrnDmp: pre-shower http://t.co/O6Fw3NHTjd http://t.co/vessfPw1nL 01:18:48 PM September 12, 2015
- pre-shower http://t.co/O6Fw3NHTjd http://t.co/vessfPw1nL 01:16:02 PM September 12, 2015
- @talesofpoo happy to collaborate; please feel free to use any of the po-ems how ever you like. You have our permission :) 07:18:45 PM September 08, 2015 in reply to talesofpoo
- A podcast after our own hearts, Poo Tales http://t.co/BVhDTmxrkR @talesofpoo 06:58:04 PM September 04, 2015
- @talesofpoo thank you for the podcast, you should have a look at http://t.co/T1yQVk12kS I think you will enjoy the poo-ems 03:37:58 PM September 04, 2015 in reply to talesofpoo
- Cocktail Night http://t.co/3hPqtG9xge 11:31:30 PM August 24, 2015
- tar-shit http://t.co/7JdLzDewLp http://t.co/XrkQSKxzuf 03:38:33 PM May 30, 2015
- acid tar http://t.co/Nw1ANj7GBC 05:35:36 PM April 29, 2015
- Being Fisted http://t.co/JyzUfdowcA 10:09:56 PM March 13, 2015
Category Archives: Poetry of the Arse
Oh after-work pre-shower poo, sweaty, filthy, naked too, those who thought I stank before, should poke their head inside this door.
O squirty poo at cocktail night, cream and citrus churning fight? But while my bowels are burning bright, my brain is flying like a kite.
O guts ache tar-shit, thick and black Barely budging though my crack I mustn’t push despite the pain Or else I’ll probably shit a vein.
O viscous cloying reeking sludge, I strain and push to make you budge, like acid tar you bring me pains, I worry for my rectal veins.
O massive poo whilst rather pissed, on a chart of hugeness you’d be listed, I bet my ring is getting blistered, its rather like i’m being fisted.
O morning poo in pre-dawn freeze, frozen cheeks and thighs and knees, while rising tendrils of warm air, reek of “log du derriere”
O morning poo my arse you leave, pushing through the aresepube sieve, and for your parting I don’t grieve, in fact it’s more like a reprieve.
O sneak-off poo on sat’day eve, my midst of mayhem quiet reprieve, but once you’re flushed then I am thinking, I shall return to bongs and drinking.
O reeking log of fresh manure, I’m not your master – I’m your poo-er. not your maker -more your do-er. and though your critics may sa OO-Err, your horrid stench is foul yet pure, so answer to the septic lure, … Continue reading
O stinking putrid rectal paste, I glad my spincter cannot taste. and as my toilet’s side you baste, you smell so bad I must use haste.