P2340 My piss I pitch

My piss I pitch, to unbelievers in a ditch, 

And verily they lap it up.

Some of them queer in a sense, 

Demand they be served in a cup.

I praise the gods, and stir the sizzling rods,

Until through the ass it goes to the throat. 

Then the atheists I toast on a wine flame,

Removing the skin, with salt I roast.

Perfect for later the brain of the slain,

Since it doesn't complain at all.

I put it in a jar of disgraced brine,

With my collection of dancing balls.

The stars are dim, the dust like cream,

Covers this super holy place. 

In exchange for security I gave the gods,

Defiled young girls fucked in the face.

Harems in heaven, for gods are good men,

Their interests are close to my heart.

The dream of being a god I cherish, 

I need to master the hypnotizing fart.

Propaganda and bullshit I fit wherever it fits,

Fools are easy to be found. 

Psychology is dear, I corrupt with fear,

My ambiguities are circular and round.

I'm assembling my army of religious cocks,

Lowest denomination dimwitted souls.

With wanton disregard for anything rational, 

I'll train these into pure assholes. 

Earlier you start, stickier your fart,

I start training bullshit in the womb.

They come out forever praising, 

An invisible man who'll decide their tomb.

Holy as hell, I'm naked as you can tell, 

I dangle my dong like a gong. 

Soon I'll be king, the females in a ring,

Suck only my balls and schlong.

P2339 City of my dreams

City of my dream, twisted it seems,

Like my fantasies from before.

The gridlock of bricks, wooden sticks,

No humans living there anymore. 

Or even if they are, they're alien,

They don't know their neighbor still. 

A comparative enmity of thinking, 

A pervasive feeling of ill will.

The sky plain, the sun or rain,

The cycles keep shiny the sheen. 

Future comes and melts into past,

The present in the city between.

My life as I look back in foggy glass, 

A childhood spent in awe.

The package of gods and goddesses,

Heaven's hilarious bribery law.

It wasn't really the dark clouds,

That were unpleasantly bright. 

The rainbows were talking to me,

I hushed them to be quiet. 

But the unquiet grew, and now it's loud,

The voices have sinews and force.

The nights descend every now and then,

The nightmares are my source. 

Welled up anger, signs of danger, 

A simmering caldera of furious force. 

On the surface a placid lake,

A baby duck taking a swimming course. 

Impending doom, the fear and gloom,

The anxiety and depression of being. 

Hardly anything at all I have,

To deal with what I am not seeing. 

Waning my mind, weak the bind,

With reality as I knew as a child. 

Now the games are up,

Weeds growing everywhere are wild.

A nagging unsettling doom looms,

Awake, a futile sisyphian thankless task.

A morbid shadow long hands outstretched, 

To pour life into life's ghoulish mask.

P2338

P2337 Three tongues must

Three tongues must, a vulture thrust,

I'm tasting the vacuous air.

I can sense death from a distance, 

I expose their decaying affairs. 

And then I gobble them up, 

Various levels of chewing. 

I eat the brain and balls,

The blood is for wine brewing. 

The world is fucked full,

Artificial intelligence will fuck it more,

The remaining jobs will be gone, 

Throngs of queued up whores.

Diseased dicks, sissy pricks, 

Will be the first to faint and fall.

But soon the empires will crack,

And I will dine on the powerful tall.

The pity of being able to see,

And be miserably ecstatic about it.

Repenting to your stools, you fools,

Mistakes were made, goddammit. 

I say I am better than you bot,

Merely by existing for eating the unfit.

The dull thud and permanent sleep,

A species that was always full of shit.

Their religious cocks with new adhocs,

A lame loser fight will steer.

The sea will rise, a new sunrise, 

The end of their imagination is near.

Shit in your pant, yell and rant,

Declare human you are still alive.

Come tomorrow you may not be,

Instead dead parts in a slimy hive.

You'll be gone, not even missed,

A goodbye layer of fossil fade.

There's not much in the act in fact,

Whenever a good change is made.

P2336 Assortment of shit

Assortment of shit, always superhit,

Each one has a tale to tell.

The one unifying universality, 

My shit has an obnoxious smell. 

Turd in a turd, not very hard,

If you are in the loo for long.

I often hunt for boogers, 

Or play with my frustrated schlong. 

My shit smells so bad, that nations go mad,

People bite each other's pubic parts.

Everything is game, silly and lame,

Worse are my Beethoven farts.

I can play, like a flute made from clay,

Tunes that make the gods retch.

Holy the cloud, when they're loud, 

My farts more decibels fetch.

Always a rainbow to look, I get hooked,

My turds are wonderfully shaped. 

Many a ecosystem it will now feed,

Now that my ass it escaped.

I sing a song, with my tongue ding dong,

It's a holy cow I beseech. 

Yesterday ironically I must say,

It was all beef on the beach.

Now as turd, oh holy god,

I am heading headlong to hindoo hell.

At each of the seven layers*, 

I hear they test your shit for smell.

Days of ass rape, extended holy gape,

At the hand of holy hindoo witch. 

At the end they throw my entrails,

In an infinitely regressing ditch.

And there I rot, a common shit pot,

The angels piss in it.

Everything eventually degrade, 

Only worried for a little bit♤.

*

These realms are:

Tamisra: A realm of darkness and intense heat, where souls are fucked for committing violent or cruel acts.

Andhatamisra: A realm of total darkness, where souls are fucked for committing crimes of deception or fraud.

Raurava: A realm of intense pain and suffering, where souls are fucked for committing violent or cruel acts.

Kumbhipaka: A realm where souls are fucked by being boiled in oil or other hot liquids like piss, for committing sins related to food and drink. This is where I go for eating beef. They turn the heat down if the cow I ate was homosexual.

Taptakumbhi: A realm where souls are fucked by being roasted in fire, for committing sins related to sex and lust. Totally cool.

Maha-Raurava: A realm of even more intense ass pain and suffering, where souls are ass fucked for committing extremely heinous acts.

Kala-Naraka: A realm of eternal darkness, where souls are fucked in the dark for committing the most severe sins.

♤ These realms are not considered to be eternal, but rather a temporary state of fucked, after which the soul is reborn into another asshole and may continue to progress towards spiritual liberation, another way of saying recycled matter and energy in poorer nations in Sanskrit. 

P2335 I search for a hole

I search for a hole, my soul is foul,

I don't think I'm sorted still. 

Yonder I look, a loose bra hook,

I can scale a nipple hill.

Not too high, I've got one weak thigh,

And just one foamy ball.

The other is inside, I hide, 

That it's really very small. 

Love and lust, every month a must,

Then my dick shrivels into hair.

I can then focus on other jobs,

Penetrative urges I don't care.

When I was sixteen, it was sixteen, 

Times I flew my thick sperm.

Now at fifty, it's a fraction and watery,

Once a month, twice a medical charm.

But the trick is this, we need a miss,

So that we can fuck out a little us.

Then that grows up fucks more,

And now the whole planet sucks.

And this I say, with utter dismay, 

Most of the fuck products super foul. 

Just like me, now there are so many,

Shit fucking stupid assholes. 

The god in charge, is a fecal discharge, 

Bottled his diarrhea as holy men.

Most pink socks, suck religious cocks,

Bribed by promises of heaven. 

Given all this, which sane miss,

Will offer her holes to me?

She can clearly see, toxic and outcast,

I'm a godless shit floating free.

P2334

P2333 Everyday assholes

Like heaps of shit, I see people bullshit, 

These are your everyday assholes. 

Selfish and corrupt, even their,

Lip services have glaring holes. 

But this is the majority, and shitty, 

These numbers tell a raw capitalists tale.

Fuck or be fucked, my dear softie, 

You're emotions are all on sale.

And then they become prudes and object,

To words that expose their crimes.

They are clever, they control the press,

After all these are wonderful times.

P2332 A rose is red

A rose is red, but is a flower dead,

I'd rather leave it on the plant.

I know you're attracted to an image, 

You like this smile in a slant.

I am an image, and you drew it too,

Maybe I'm not quite as permanent. 

My moods are bad, I get mad,

My patience in life all spent. 

What are the rainbows of your life, 

Made from which figment or fib?

What drives the ink so passionate,

That it erodes the fountain nib?

Maybe when you become like me,

An image just like this.

We might be able to hold hands,

And maybe even kiss.

P2331 Stumbling in the desert

I keep stumbling in the desert, 

And the sun is shining strong. 

The mirage of a miracle was,

An expectation gone wrong. 

Another trip, another sip from,

That cup of experience I drink.

It is wild out here, mad and sad,

Unable for the stable I think. 

The world has shrunk, my dreams too,

My emotions are curled into a wreck. 

Where on earth am I today,

Or where is this place called heck.

But this arabian night was light,

The days were night too.

The hours at masafi the tea shop,

Was where my dreams came true.

Happy thoughts at a corner seat,

Rolling the reels in my mind.

The happy cheer of the living, 

Was what I wanted to really find.

I can't please the part, or the whole,

The whole is not always in the part.

My destiny is to meet the wrong people, 

And always keep hitting restart.

Here I am again, penniless and in pain,

There's the wall tall and hard.

I guess honesty is old fashioned, 

And I am a silly and sorry discard. 

The wear and tear, the sheer, 

Repetitive ordinary isn't a life.

I know I'm not going to find a ready home,

A destination without murderous strife.

P2330

P2329

P2328

P2327 I am a cow

I am a cow, I like meself somehow, 

And can't stop spewing dung.

I like to look at my face, my eyes,

My emotions are very high strung. 

Plus I am holy too, my shit mixed, 

And used for god knows what.

These hindoos are crazy, their hopes hazy,

About their cow herdsman diplomat.

They even think my piss cures shit,

Can you imagine the bovine thrill. 

My piss poisoning sick flu patients, 

This was the hindoo witch doctor's pill.

My piss and shit, the hindoos like it,

Just imagining their plate makes me throw.

Plus I have no privacy, staring constantly, 

To see when my sphincter will let go.

Overall my nature's call, is now in a bottle, 

And sold on e-commerce as a cure. 

I mean holy homo creepy crap,

Are you guys even fucking sure.

They are prolific and glib, in fancy and fib,

But they suck on my nipples day and night. 

But I don't mind, in reject grade grass I find, 

Peace and all sorts of nifty insight.

The problem with the species, 

They can't chew their cud.

Their vomit goes straight to their head,

Ideas are usually mental or a dud.

Plus they wear a cover on their asshole, 

That makes the worms hot and pissy. 

And that's the reason for their irrationality,

Why the cunts are bitchy and the dicks sissy.

They even hold back their fart,

Piss and even shit until they can't hold anymore. 

They are fucking the internal system, 

Full of shit to the core.

They call paying for what was free,

A civilization and progress made.

They believe all kinds of bullshit, 

And fancy crazy crap in their head.

I secretly enjoy the fact,

That they don't know they're getting raped.

For a long time this was coming, 

The planet has been ass gaped.

Of course we'll go milky tits up as collateral, 

Serves us right for being so close. 

Misanthropic meteor will obliterate these turds,

Like perfumed flush in a galactic hose.

P2326 I see a plant

My shit smells bad, real trouble I had,

With a largish turd yet to float.

It was huge in size, a boat capsize,

If I happen to shit on a boat.

Friends says no, poop don't know,

We're tired of this filthy fare.

I tell them yes, biochemical in dress,

Shitting is an awesome affair.

I sit on a pan, thinking the next plan,

Pooping always makes my mind go.

The sentimental this, the emotional that,

Are flushed with the cistern flow.

Of course my asshole hurts,

The turd left a gaping hole.

But gods are not vile, in their smile,

I see a sweetly recovering soul.

I see a plant, from my mouth at slant,

Come out with the blessings from god.

Miracle this might be, I suspect it's actually, 

A bolus of vomit with a growing pod.

My stomach turns to churn, become taciturn, 

I am dropping shit from both sides.

Shit and vomit, holy cow tit,

There's now no place for me to hide.

P2325 Dick on my head

I have a dick on my head, the man dead,

I see the semen dripping from it.

I must be imagining things, 

Or this weed must be some good shit.

But lately I have dicks on my mind, 

And mostly dead dicks at that.

Don't know why, but the balls are hairy, 

And usually quite juicy and fat.

I would love to suck a dick I guess, 

Haven't sucked one this lonely year.

Becoming an old aunt, a bitchy cunt, 

Owner of a worm infested horny rear.

Unsolicited genitals fill my dreams, 

And I wake up asking for more.

Cum crazy I was before, 

Now this older me is a crazy whore.

Maybe I'm nearing menopause, 

When the boobs hit the floor. 

Oh my jesus horny christ, 

Is this what you have in store?

When old, you become a dismal child, 

You giggle and drool from that hole.

The asshole become cavernous, 

Then you go tits up, a fermented soul. 

I can't think, thoughts are bloody, 

Meandering, endless and quite mean. 

I'll get that dick from my head,

And suck it nice and clean. 

P2324

P2323 Nip and tuck

Nip and tuck, now two ways to fuck,

But shit comes out of only one hole.

By the gods I swear, I wear no underwear, 

To fill the planet with shit, my goal.

Holy this plan, so I don't shit in a pan,

But it's always outdoors and free.

Across the land, hand holding hand,

Let's shit ourselves back to the tree.

Branch to branch, we can dance,

There's fermentation to explore. 

Then further regression to fish I suppose, 

Until there's nothing left to whore.

Then from dust, to crystal, then molecules, 

Then atoms, quarks and so on.

Finally there's that nothing from which we came,

Into which we'll all be finally gone.

P2322

P2321 Pregnant with piss

Pregnant with piss, yes dear miss,

I am a sorry and fateful tale.

My bladder travels to my mouth, 

Whenever there's a sale.

I can't buy, but to piss I try,

On the dreams I once had.

Many lego sets and comic books,

I cherished as a lad.

Then I grew up, quite fast,

But didn't notice that I had done.

Now the baby fat is in the ass,

Love I get none.

Knowledge I have of the sort,

That has no practical need.

Tongues to lick ass,

Is really the only needed breed.

So dark is my ink, do slink in my stink,

Half avoiding the cheery outside. 

But it's really hard to get along, 

You may judge the ride.

I peacefully fart and snort my sorrows, 

Lingering a finger in my ass.

Or the melancholy beans I eat,

That gives me the ostracizing gas.

Bit by bit, turd by shit,

I flush away my plans.

At my headquarter, the toilet, I sit,

My poop moves like kolkata trams.

But then miss, I piss,

And decide to move on.

There's really nothing I can do in this life.

My life is as good as gone.

But poverty is still a good place to be,

And it's better to be canceled so

I'd rather be those, than the hollow king,

Of shallow men with no marrow. 

Poverty lets you settle on a compromise, 

A list of annihilating burning shit.

But then in the end you realize, 

The limerick wasn't really worth it.

Righting my wrongs, writing my songs,

My life is shit that's fucking hard. 

But my thoughts on life's ups and downs, 

Have softness of genteel lard.

It's really a game, at it I'm lame,

That's to put it politely of course. 

I should instead shout, "I suck",

Until quite hoarse. 

But victorious is he,

Who shits the longest, I claim. 

And since I persist in shit therefore I'm it,

Even in life's zero sum game.

P2320

P2319 Being a woman and a man

I am in a working stasis, a discipline fetish.

One step forward and I die.

Of course, a life in subservience,

Is being hung by the male tie.

I don't know why my thoughts are slow,

I wouldn't like to admit I'm that.

The ability of artifice is to cover for,

The rabbit that's hardly in the hat.

It's difficult being a woman and a man,

Being both has its charm.

But as the layers dissolve,

The relationships are lukewarm.

And then when the machines take over,

There won't be any silly games to play.

All the while, when I did sincerely try,

The good times wouldn't stay.

But still, I dream of freedom,

Of breaking free from societal shackles.

To live my life as I choose,

To be counted out of petty battles.

For though the road is a serpent,

And the floundering a matrix of sort.

I'll keep the sisyphian rock moving,

Without the comfort of support.

And in the end, when all is said,

And the battles will mean more.

I'll stand tall, victorious,

Conformity relegated as a sore.

Freedom isn't given away,

But fought for, day by fighting day.

And I'll keep struggling, till the end,

A life lived my own way.

P2318

P2317

P2316 Open fly

Down the street, i capered on my feet,

But sadly with an open fly.

I had told tales of a large manly dick,

But now everyone knew it was a lie.

But now I add, "metaphorically, you see",

But the females firmly nod.

What on earth is wrong with them,

Really cross with god.

Plus my shit stunk bad, I had a cold, 

And I said it didn't stink at all.

Then publicly I took a dump,

And everyone fled the hall.

I thought I could play chess,

But that was ludo people said.

I went to the chess tournament,

What a mistake I made.

Plus I forget to clean the shit,

From my crack often these days.

Somehow people can tell, they complain, 

In many many ways.

I also don't like to take a bath,

My body has a forest of grub.

Fungus of various flavors, 

Proud of my pubic shrub.

P2315 I drag my balls

I drag my balls, down the halls,

It's a long way from some fun.

The jazz and jizz in it, every bit,

Is turning bitter and quarrelsome. 

I ponder the wonder, yonder the random, 

Wandering lice in my flaccid cock.

A trip of a drop that drips from a tap,

I keep a careful stock.

The parrot I love, became a dove,

The crow became my ho.

Both shit on my head day and night,

I'm planning a bloody scarecrow. 

There was a cloud, when I was proud, 

Rained a load of happy thoughts. 

Now it's gone, and in its stead,

It rains criminal blood clots.

The gods are going through a lot, 

I know they are, I saw the fear. 

The hole in heaven is like an asshole, 

And turning heaven into hell's rear.

Dead men on leave, heave and grieve, 

And wonder why their shit's like a stick

The devil boils the sinners in oil, 

While god lubricates his prick.

Limp my dick, like noodle not thick,

No miss wants to ever suck.

How I want them to fondle my balls,

And enjoy an afternoon of lice pluck.

Unholy the scene of me farting on beans,

But I like beans, lentils and ghee rice.

Wallowing in my sulphurous gas,

I show a finger to be really nice.

P2314

P2313 Sorry piece of shit

I am a sorry piece of shit, I surely know it,

No one likes a lecture puking poo.

However I might strike a fancy perhaps,

To the intelligence inside you.

You see we are in shitty times,

It's not strange to become shit too.

Look around you, famine and war,

There's a dick dangling over you. 

Of course shit is the poor man's confort,

The rich doesn't like comfort that kind.

Why they ought to end you think,

Then another plops from behind. 

But miseries have their source, 

And those wells are nourished well.

Humans live by dividing hats,

In many a variegated cell.

Vicariously poverty is tourism, 

It gets people's dick hard.

Of course,  consensus, only for clarity 

Charity-"not in my backyard."

And so the tale is tall, my boat might stall,

But I'll keep my limericks limping. 

One day when I'm long gone,

They'll do their own pimping. 

Ask no questions, I'll tell no lies,

But my shit will leave a stain.

I refuse to be a silent bystander, 

Muzzled in ball and chain.

P2312 I dance like this

I dance like this, high on piss,

I've quit being sane you see.

It's no point, with loose joints, 

I love this manic old me.

I may be mad, when manic not sad,

But quite drunk on the rainbow of life.

I see flowers on fresh turds,

And baroque decor on a bleeding knife.

May not be long, so I sway my schlong, 

And declare unhappiness as a fog.

I know just behind me, crouching stealthily, 

Is a ferocious black dog.

I know I'll be down, back to a frown, 

With my back to the wall.

Nothing to do, a vacuum in situ,

There's no gravity needed in this fall.

And that sink hole is very deep,

Where the superficials can't ever reach.

The tattoo crafted on the ass crack,

Is of an asshole shut with a stitch. 

Now I want to shit, and hard at it,

But the turd stops at the stitch. 

What started out as imagination, 

Is now as real as a bitch.

The gods in tears trembling with fear,

Shit the clouds diarrhea yellow. 

The sun shines through them aglow,

Divine coughing sounds like a cello. 

In the absence of light, in fearsome blight, 

The angels vomit last year's food.

The starving earth rejoice, 

At least someone did something good. 

From god's shit will spring, a new kind of thing, 

An awkward shape with no head.

It will recite hymns to the humans, dawn to dusk,

First they listen, clap, yawn, bored and dead.

The holy headless hooligans with guns,

Make confident and bold hullabaloo. 

It reminds me of shit slinging apes,

I find I'm a captive shitting in a zoo.

Thus ends the reign of man, 

And I suddenly wake up.

I really doubt anything is really real anymore, 

And start pissing madness in a cup.

P2311 Instead of going south

Instead of going south, we're inside someone's mouth, 

That's not even on the map.

I swear I knew my way, as clear as day,

But the universe has developed a communication gap.

Now what do we do, it's dark here too,

Do you think it's a national park.

What if it's really a giant beast, we're the feast, 

In it's stomach it's going to be dark.

Shouldn't have done the shrooms tonight, will park for daylight, 

Or until things begin to make more sense.

We may be in a trip, decisions we better skip,

Or at least until there's less vomit to dispense. 

P2310 Calls me a bird brain

Calls me a bird brain, this sapiens vain,

Watch his world come tumbling down.

The glued stones will become obvious, 

And he'll be the joke of the town.

He said he could defy gravity,

Well fly with me if you can.

Why an arranged show with paid fools,

Who'd clap for even shit in a pan.

I ask does he know, birds are smart,

Has he any idea of evolution?

Or for that matter the smattering of science, 

Isn't that vain masturbation.

This and that, piss in the hat,

All kinds of cheap gimmick.

An audience of old drooling fools,

With skull quite thick.

I'll shit on his head, my shit's red,

He'll think he must have bled.

This species will ruin the fun for us,

If they don't die, we'll all be dead.

A civet friend and I have designed a shit fly,

That will incite the humans to a shit crave.

The plague of defecation will be swift,

Tired assholes spinning in the grave.

The owls will howl the fowls will scowl, 

Merry will be most other birds.

Soon we will become dinosaurs, 

And leave ginormous turds.