You're a growing boy
Now eat every last morsel
She broke her bidet.

poorly aimed discharge
semen's suprisingly sweet
goes well with nachos.

sex starved bulemic
she enjoys it doggy style
while purging donuts.

Sister Kate inserts
her vibrating crucifix
oh, oh Yeshua!

There once was a poet called Mox
Spread haiku like a terrible pox
To improve his haiku
The thing he should do
Is spend more time in womens' frocks

To dig what others
are going through, the abuse kills
the pain of shared love

S+M haiku
but me thinks that, psychotic
I likes the abuse, hurts

rocky raccoon was no pansy
he fought for the girl of his fancy
her name was mcgill
but she called herself "lill"
and everyone knew her as nancy

Think what sexually
could do if he set his mind
to it but he cant
.
He

Cloudless crystal blue sky
Tempting me to go outside
Just so much to do

I just wanted to write
Something morally right
That may inspire
Others to go higher
And win the creative fight

Just why did you think
That it was written for you
Guilty as charged?
(the moments lost now)

Just why did you think
That it was written you
Guilty as charged?

The once was a man from north France
Whose mother taught him how to dance
Later he turned pro
And reaped in the dough
And developed a seductive glance

There should be a needs
In the last line of the poem
Just below this one

There once was a man from from Beijing
Who patented the english word ping
He made lots of cash
And grew a moustache
And he no longer a thing

They don

Non-productive rant
Write to inspire, not to moan
We can all do that

That bimb should be bomb
I should check my spelling more
Foolish man I am

There once was a man called Saddam
And the west thought he was a mad man
He was not very nice
Treated the Kurds like lice
So we'll bimb him to Hell 'cause we can

Have we bombed you yet?
Iraqi free shadows weep.
We

Harvesting the laughs
He sends streams of invective
Very sad really

Open a portal
Streams emerge, some very good
Most pretty awful

Little boy blue come
Blow on your horn, the sheep
Need I continue?

"You have got no dance!"
"Look! Now!" Well I looked about
I found some blues guys

Who knew that a kiss
could lead to herpes and a
beautiful marriage.

If you have to think
too much about your haiku
you're doing it wrong.

Fool, haiku is all
about stream of consciousness
not rational thought.

Friday night weeping
I'm even bored by my
imaginary friends.

The sweet nostalgia
Of a good bondage flick takes
me back to childhood.

No money for whores
Make do with cocoa butter
wetnaps, blowup doll.

has the ash burnt out
hot coals, now dying embers
here's my garden hose.

Do you smell my wrath
Dropping lyrical feces
On lily white minds?

I am the greatest
Worst poet to grace this site
genuflect, ash.

haters criticize
lacking the artistic roar
they manage whispers.

Alone, so alone
How shall the night be passed?
With porn and tear drops.

it isn't a wonder "they" hate us -
should iraqis cry "liberate us!"
when we were the ones
who gave saddam guns?
our hubris is truly outrageous

Dammit! little gnome
Wake Up!...Billy charge up the
paddles to seven!

so bush went ahead and made war
although his excuses were poor
the weapon he found
is under the ground
a climate destructor, for sure

there once was a guy, name of scott
who posted joku here a lot
and a sonnet or two
when he sniffed some glue
but limericks, no he did not

STOP THE WAR, NOW!!
Pull out the soldiers b4 they day,
War is wrong, killing is bad...

soldiers need to give up and go..
let saddam be,
war is bad, dont kill

we need to get out of baghdad,
dubya is wrong...get us out,
war is bad

got to get cracking
i'm getting kart race fever
time to kick kart ass!!!

i call him my mook
he has the best pinchy cheeks
one more day to go!

what is up frank grimes?
i had to make fun of you
but i forgot why?!?!

Ridiculous noise
Sound of snoring from next room
Soft melody sneers

Technicality
Over engineered machines
Constantly breakdown

You cannot be blue
When you Haiku hot baked beans
I write what I see

There once was a man named Nippress
Who went around town in a dress
But when he felt blue
He would write haiku
And it looked like a terrible mess