P2653 Urine from heaven
Urine from heaven on day seven,
Hallelujah the best of all goodly days.
Whoever drinks the first drop,
For him the cutest virgin prays.
Although I don't much count on the cunts,
But shit, tasting the first drop is yum.
Holy my balls in heavenly halls,
I'm sure will become.
A holy hello, I a poor holy fellow,
Isn't getting pissed on my acme?
Going super mad, never again be sad,
So totally piss bitch and gay.
The six days of creation went fast,
God must have held his piss.
Even if I drown and shit,
A delight to know it is his.
Super holy his hole, farts deadly and foul,
I'll be the first one to brave the gas.
Wretched are those that retch,
I'm sure my guts no klutz has.
My luck if he wants to take a dump,
I'll open my mouth really wide.
I'll be able to figure out fingering his shit,
The intricacies of god's inside.
Shit from holy holes, as per holy scrolls,
Is a fountain of precious something.
Don't know what, shit after squat,
Gets my bowels moving.
I'll tongue his asshole, lonely soul,
Nobody to take care of his carnal needs.
I'll be fondling his damp manly balls,
As my soul for almighty bleeds.
Maybe he'll ask me to suck his cock,
I suppose in return for immortality.
In all paintings my face will be buried in his loins,
Looking profound and pretty.
P2652 Hell yes
Hell yes, god bless,
I did shit a lot.
But the shit won't flush,
A problem on the spot.
It smells really awful too,
Holy fathers of mother mary.
I have to buy a plunger and acid,
No money and that is scary.
Jesus christ that's a lot of shit,
I'm proud as you can tell.
This country is wallowing in shit,
This will fit right in as well.
Or may be as a gift to the leaders,
They always run out of shit.
A celebration of microbial life,
In their mouth as masala when they see fit.
Their duty to drown the nation,
Drink milk from a farcical divine tit.
As a testament to my place in the crowd,
I therefore offer my shit.
P2617 Super holy I am
I am a holy man, super holy I am,
And yet the bird shit on my head.
I curse the species to an early extinction,
And I want this bird dead.
I hope bird brain can take the pain,
I'm sure it's cloaca won't be happy.
First I fuck it, then I bleed it,
As we know that's alrighty with almighty.
In Tibet when I sodomized a pet civet,
My dick stank like a skunk.
Not to fear, skunks are leaders here,
Plus this is expected of a masculine monk.
Sin will win if you fuck your kin,
Just an aphorism to put on your ass.
Fuck everyone, advisable as a tattoo,
If you want a free boarding pass.
My roommate meditates with his mouth open,
I'll transfer the poop as a friend.
That bastard farts in his sleep,
I plan to bring him to his monastic end.
I hope he chokes on the poop,
I'll ensure that his head bursts.
I'll kick his pious balls until he's there,
In bald buddha he says he trusts.
Just a lot of bald bull they pull I say,
And I ask, to what gnarly end?
You get proxy poop in your mouth,
And kicked to death by a bad bald friend.
I'm holy but with big holes,
With wants, I fuck gents and cunts.
Every man for himself and shit,
Pretend pathetic the monastic stunts.
After he's gone I run to his house,
All the illegitimate daughters suck my dick.
The sons become errand runners,
His wife as mistress I plan to keep.
Fucking ascetic, my ass,
He was a duplicitous man.
I am worse and I act today,
Stop me if you can.
P2610 I'm alive
I revel in mediocrity, shit gets sticky shitty,
But I am okay with being flamboyantly inept.
For instance I can't get it up,
Soft sideways, a compromise I accept.
It's now usually a monthly thing,
The supply of semen almost a whisper.
I can hear my balls fart empty farts,
I call myself a disenchanted pauper.
Even the orgasm doesn't last very long,
As if it has work to do.
Just a matter of fact feeling,
I settle for the penile ahchoo.
And it doesn't take much as such,
Just tits after the opening movie credits.
My consolation the plots are too thin anyways,
Can't say I'm the king of premature misfits.
That's alright I think, at least I'm alive,
Shit! I might be brought out dead instead.
Then, who would have these burdens,
Of the thoughts inside this heedless head?
It takes a worried man,
To save the world under controlled condition.
My head is harried, I'm unmarried,
I master the damsel in my masturbation.
Only in my doodle my sperm becomes a noodle,
With which I strangle the strong stranger.
In my blog at least, I can fight and fist,
My way into weirdness or danger.
In real life, the old dreams are cold creams,
That lubricate my anal and finger union.
In this wet season of mangoes, however,
Diarrhea and vomiting are more fun.
But this poverty, it's an impoverished pity,
That my shit sticks to my soul.
Or this atheism, the lifelessly logical,
That constantly dries up my asshole.
The abject squalor is my comfort,
The wretched filth surrounds and defines me.
Free from the monotony of rote and routines,
Happy as a vicarious hippie.
I scratch my balls, answer nature's calls,
Introspect the contradictions at the core.
Anything else might be overreaching my bed,
I just want to sleep some more.
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