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Too Poop to Coop

Oh ceepeep!
A moodah coodah.
Hop pop.
Boo shob ah lot.

Sleet fleet.
A coodah leedah
Come lobba bobba
U doo da dramah.
And doodah poop.
Too poop to coop.

Oooowww,
Ceepeep.
A moodah coodah.
Hop pop.
Boo shob ah lot.

Sleet fleet.
A coodah leedah

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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Pop and Culture

Peeps peep on pop and culture.
People peep on pop and culture.
There's a peep on pop and culture,
With not a poop to stop.

They peep on pop and culture.
People peep on pop and culture.
There is a peep on pop and culture,
Without a poop to stop.

Lady Gaga got that pop.
People peep on pop and culture.
Taylor Swift's got Country Rock.
People peep on pop and culture.
And Kanye's a social poppa.
People peep on pop and culture.
With Beyonce and Jay-Z,
Seen on top in magazines.

Peeps peep on pop and culture.

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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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More Common Than PMS?

POOP
is more common
than PMS

What's POOP?

just made poop up!
pissed off over people
seems very common?

snap out of it!

poem by Terence George Craddock
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When You See My Pup Do Poopie

Your dog bit my dachshund,
When my pup took a poop at Ben's.
I was looking into the backyard,
From a window in Ben's kitchen.

You have a rottweiler...
And my daschsund for him,
Is no competition.
That 'thing' needs to be leashed.
Muzzled and restrained!
It's obvious there's no training going on...
And I have refrained myself,
From inflicting it with my brand of pain.

Your dog bit my dachshund,
When my pup took a poop at Ben's.
If this should happen again to my pup,
I'll dropp kick that 'thing'...
And we will end as friends!
When you see my pup do poop again,

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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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You Keepa Way

You keepa way,
That's slipping from my listing.
I use to handle it,
But it it getting too late.

You keepa way,
That mooches on my patience.
I'd like to lace a drink,
And exit you from my head.

I wish that you were leaving,
So I could go straight to bed.

You keepa way,
That could droop eyes at parties.
And bore just everybody,
With the things that you say.

You can poop a party,
And that is just your way.

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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Flying Dutchman

LONG time ago, from Amsterdam a vessel sailed away,—
As fair a ship as ever flung aside the laughing spray.
Upon the shore were tearful eyes, and scarfs were in the air,
As to her, o'er the Zuyder Zee, went fond adieu and prayer;
And brave hearts, yearning shoreward from the outwardgoing ship,
Felt lingering kisses clinging still to tear-wet cheek and lip.
She steered for some far eastern clime, and, as she skimmed the seas,
Each taper mast was bending like a rod before the breeze.

Her captain was a stalwart man,—an iron heart had he,—
From childhood's days he sailed upon the rolling Zuyder Zee:
He nothing feared upon the earth, and scarcely heaven feared,
He would have dared and done whatever mortal man had dared!
He looked aloft, where high in air the pennant cut the blue,
And every rope and spar and sail was firm and strong and true.
He turned him from the swelling sail to gaze upon the shore,—
Ah! little thought the skipper then 'twould meet his eye no more:
He dreamt not that an awful doom was hanging o'er his ship,
That Vanderdecken's name would yet make pale the speaker's lip.
The vessel bounded on her way, and spire and dome went down,—

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poem by John Boyle O'Reilly
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Charmides

HE was a Grecian lad, who coming home
With pulpy figs and wine from Sicily
Stood at his galley's prow, and let the foam
Blow through his crisp brown curls unconsciously,
And holding wave and wind in boy's despite
Peered from his dripping seat across the wet and stormy night

Till with the dawn he saw a burnished spear
Like a thin thread of gold against the sky,
And hoisted sail, and strained the creaking gear,
And bade the pilot head her lustily
Against the nor'west gale, and all day long
Held on his way, and marked the rowers' time with measured song,

And when the faint Corinthian hills were red
Dropped anchor in a little sandy bay,
And with fresh boughs of olive crowned his head,
And brushed from cheek and throat the hoary spray,
And washed his limbs with oil, and from the hold
Brought out his linen tunic and his sandals brazen-soled,

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poem by Oscar Wilde
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The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 10

THE GATES of heav’n unfold: Jove summons all
The gods to council in the common hall.
Sublimely seated, he surveys from far
The fields, the camp, the fortune of the war,
And all th’ inferior world. From first to last, 5
The sov’reign senate in degrees are plac’d.
Then thus th’ almighty sire began: “Ye gods,
Natives or denizens of blest abodes,
From whence these murmurs, and this change of mind,
This backward fate from what was first design’d? 10
Why this protracted war, when my commands
Pronounc’d a peace, and gave the Latian lands?
What fear or hope on either part divides
Our heav’ns, and arms our powers on diff’rent sides?
A lawful time of war at length will come, 15
(Nor need your haste anticipate the doom),
When Carthage shall contend the world with Rome,
Shall force the rigid rocks and Alpine chains,
And, like a flood, come pouring on the plains.
Then is your time for faction and debate, 20

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poem by Publius Vergilius Maro
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My Poopasaurus

Have you seen my Poopasaurus?
Oh she poops in great big piles.
She’s a prehistoric creature,
And her poop goes on for miles!

Can you help me to locate her?
Though your nose won’t like it much,
If you see her please remember,
You can look but do not touch!

Do not touch my Poopasaurus,
Or she may just poop on you.
She escaped me just this morning,
When I took her out to poo.

Have you seen my Poopasaurus?
She’s the only pet I’ve got.
She’s cute and kind, but keep in mind…

She poops an awful lot!

poem by ToddMichael St. Pierre
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Fear and Death; Are Our Twin of Pain

A nice conversation within the twin and me:
Twin: can you see our faces?
Me: yeah, sure; it looks like matured poop.
Twin: do you want us to honest with you?

Me: No, I want both of you to keep bullshiting around; till I grab your necks and strangle continuously, till your skulls squash.
Twin: ok; that's very respectful and fearful. Don't you have respect for us; almighty king fear and death?

Me: *hissing* what ever! For all I care; you both could go drink a full bottle of acid, and knock yourselves out; while you die of cancer, with all due respect, idiots! .

Twin: ok, I see this our friendly conversation is leading to no where, I guess; we will try another fellow, that is not Nigerian, maybe someone from Tokyo or Syria.

Me: good you know; at least both of you are foolish enough to park up your poop faces, and try another native dustbin bird, you could scold and steal away so easily. It was nice meeting and charting with you two retards. For you both; act like illiterate witches and wizards, preaching the word of God in hell, and selling holy water, to winch and quench the burning fire of hell.

Twin: we like you; because you fire up our curiosity. Can we be your friends?

Me: yeah, sure; you've just found the right hell, to make you burn successfully.

Me: It was nice melting both of you. Baboons!

poem by King Femi Oloidi
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