Toilet Seats
While I am emulating Keats
My brother fabrics toilet seats,
The which, they say, are works of art,
Aesthetic features of the mart;
So exquisitely are they made
With plastic of a pastel shade,
Of topaz, ivory or rose,
Inviting to serene repose.
Rajahs I'm told have seats of gold,--
(They must, I fear, be very cold).
But Tom's have thermostatic heat,
With sympathy your grace to greet.
Like silver they are neon lit,
Making a halo as you sit:
Then lo! they play with dulset tone
A melody by Mendelssohn.
Oh were I lyrical as Yeats
I would not sing of toilet seats,
But rather serenade a star,--
Yet I must take things as they are.
For even kings must coyly own
Them as essential as a throne:
So as I tug the Muse's teats
I envy Tom his toilet seats.
poem by Robert William Service
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Short; Silly: Ode To A Commode...Or....A Poem About Toilets
modern 'toilets' are large flushable porcelain bowls
which catch waste from both your and my exit holes.
i'm used to white ones with large flush-water tank.
a hidden pipe carries off stuff that often does smell rank.
some in japan were quite different……with no way to sit!
i'm glad i found 'my style' when t'was time to shit.
and if from toilet-paper usage you're leaning,
some toilets have the choice of an in-bowl shower, for cleaning.
toilet seats are sometimes colored, or cushioned, or even heated;
for me, more important (at times) is JUST to be SEATED!
toilets have changed since they were just holes in the ground.
i hope, when i 'need' a toilet, one's always around!
(4-4-2010)
poem by Bri Edwards
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I'm not as surprised in going from playing 1,000 seats to 4,000 seats as I was from 100 to 500 seats.
quote by John Mayer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Plexiglass Toilet
Don't sit on the Plexiglas toilet
Said the momma to her son
Wipe the butt clean with the paper
Make it nice for everyone
But don't sit down on the Plexiglas toilet yeah
A boy of 5 stands close to the toilet
Holds the lid up with one hand
Won't let go the lid for fear that
On his banana it will land
Don't sit down on the Plexiglas toilet yeah
Boy goes up he eats the enchilada
With the sauce that burns the heart
Family comes to visit family
Momma says don't belch and fart
Don't sit on the Plexiglas toilet
Said the momma to her son
Wipe the butt clean with the paper
Make it nice for everyone
But don't sit down on the Plexiglas toilet yeah
Everybody Sing!
Don't sit on the Plexiglas toilet
Said the momma to her son
Wipe the butt clean with the paper
Make it nice for everyone
But don't sit down on the Plexiglas toilet yeah
Don't sit on the Plexiglas toilet
Said the momma to her son
Wipe the butt clean with the paper
Make it nice for everyone
But don't sit down on the Plexiglas toilet yeah
song performed by by Styx, music by John Curulewski
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In the House, Republican prospects have been buoyed by several successful rounds of redistricting, which have sharply reduced the number of competitive seats and given the Republicans a national advantage of at least a dozen seats.
quote by Thomas E. Mann
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lily Licked the Toilet
Lily licked the toilet,
And then she licked the floor.
You can bet I'll never
Kiss Lily anymore!
Lily licked the toilet,
And then she licked the sink.
She's full of germs and worms,
At least that's what I think.
Lily licked the toilet,
And then she licked the tub.
It's safe to say her tongue
Could use a real good scrub!
She was the cutest pooch! (To Smooch)
Why'd she have to spoil it?
Nothing's been the same since…
Lily licked the toilet!
poem by ToddMichael St. Pierre
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Two funney
Young funney
Boy...
go
The toilet...
Pass urine...
Not clean
The toilet
With water...
why...?
The boy was
funney...!
The toilet was
funney...?
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Toilet
Every one
use
The toilet
Clean
Take water
And clean...
Clean is
Importent
her clean
Is not
Impress other's...
It is helpfull for
Healthy good
Life...
For clean
Toilet...
All ways
With your use...!
Some
human are
Use
The toilet
At animals...
You...?
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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We Are More Alike Than Unalike
Let the gong-gong ring through
The living rooms of Canada Singapore New Zealand
Russia India El Salvador Poland China Botswana Switzerland
England Papua New Guinea Brazil South Africa
Japan Australia Ireland France Vietnam America…
Let the gong-gong bring first
THE CHILDREN: Their seats are Ready!
Let the gong-gong bring first
THE CHILDREN from Thailand Italy Saudi Arabia The Beloved Country
The Hope The Land of Two Rivers Sao Tome &
Principe Seychelles Equatorial Guinea St Christopher and Nevis Kiribati
THE CHILDREN: Their seats are Ready!
From Yamoussoukro Antananarivo Edinburgh Ouagadougou Oslo
Bandung Karachi Abu Dhabi Lesotho Accra Kabul Harare Cairo
Kuala Lumpur Tel Aviv Lisbon Windhoek Abuja…
Let the gong-gong bring first
THE CHILDREN: Their seats are Ready!
Come all you children of the world
Come all you children and take your seats
Under the Big Tree of Durbars
Our newfound Village
Come all you children of the world
Come all you children and take your seats
Grandee Maya Angelou
Wanna tell you a Storyline: We are More Alike than Unalike!
poem by Gabriel Eshun
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Cheap Seats
Cheap seats
This town aint big, this town aint small.
Its a little of both they say.
Our ball club may be minor league but at least its triple a.
We sit below the marlboro man, above the right field wall.
We do the wave all by ourself.
Hey ump, a blind man couldve made that call.
Chorus
We like our beer flat as can be.
We like our dogs with mustard and relish.
We got a great pitcher whats his name.
Well we cant even spell it.
We dont worry about the pennant much.
We just like to see the boys hit it deep.
Theres nothing like the view from the cheap seats.
The game was close, well call it a win.
Go off to toast the boys again.
That local band is back in town.
They got a kinda minor league sound.
Theyre not that bad, theyre not that good.
But all in all its understood.
We wanna dance, they wanna play.
We wouldnt have it any other way.
Chorus
Cheap seats
Now the majors called up oh whats his name.
And one more buildin rises tall.
And suddenly were all grown up.
And this old town not quite so small.
But Ill always miss the middle size town.
In the middle of the middle-west.
With no name pitchers and local bands,
And mustard and relish and all the rest.
Chorus
Cheap seats
song performed by by Alabama
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Solitaire
Brain-storming, habit-forming, battle-warning weary winsome actor spewing
Spineless chilling lines--
The critics falling over to tell themselves hes boring
And really not an awful lot of fun.
Well who the hell can he be when hes never had v.d.,
And he doesnt even sit on toilet seats?
Court-jesting, never-resting--he must be very cunning
To assume an air of dignity
And bless us all
With his oratory prowess,
His lame-brained antics and his jumping in the air.
And every night his acts the same
And so it must be all a game of chess hes playing--
But youre wrong, steve. you see, its only solitaire.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Only Solitaire
Brain-storming habit-forming battle-warning weary
Winsome actor spewing spineless chilling lines ---
The critics falling over to tell themselves hes boring
And really not an awful lot of fun.
Well who the hell can he be when hes never had v.d.,
And he doesnt even sit on toilet seats?
Court-jesting, never-resting --- he must be very cunning
To assume an air of dignity
And bless us all with his oratory prowess,
His lame-brained antics and his jumping in the air.
And every night his acts the same
And so it must be all a game of chess hes playing ---
''but youre wrong, steve: you see, its only solitaire.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Do Not Understand
I am not vain!
I am appalled you would think that.
Just because I have a mural of my self reflection,
Oiled painted on canvas in each of the 7 rooms
In my home.
I want you to feel my closeness.
And my doorbell has my voice welcoming you...
'Enter only if you look better than me! '
Is to warm you before you bask in my glow.
And duplicating the warmth of my smile.
When you sit on my toilet seats...
Isn't it comforting to know,
My humming eases you with my presence?
And every flush...
Shivers you to goosebumps.
I had them customed made.
In my favorite key...B-flat.
I am there for you.
Who do you know,
Provides that kind of hospitality?
Even when you pee...
I am there harmonizing with a melody.
And singing with myself in duet,
Is not an easy accomplishment.
I am here...
All over my domain,
Just for you.
And yes...
Those are my hands,
I had enlarged and woven into the carpet.
To hold you and caress.
Every second you are here.
Even under your footsteps,
I am here to hold you.
I do not understand...
Why you have chosen to leave so soon!
It seems as though you had just arrived.
Here...
Take this 8 by 10 glossy!
I have signed it for you as a reminder...
I am not too far away!
Always I will be there...
Gazing into your eyes.
And wanting you to know...
I am at your fingertips.
WHO can give you love like this?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Greenwich Hospital
Come to these peaceful seats, and think no more
Of cold, of midnight watchings, or the roar
Of Ocean, tossing on his restless bed!
Come to these peaceful seats, ye who have bled
For honour, who have traversed the great flood,
Or on the battle's front with stern eye stood,
When rolled its thunder, and the billows red
Oft closed, with sudden flashings, o'er the dead!
Oh, heavy are the sorrows that beset
Old age! and hard it is--hard to forget
The sunshine of our youth, our manhood's pride!
But here, O aged men! ye may abide
Secure, and see the last light on the wave
Of Time, which wafts you silent to your grave;
Like the calm evening ray, that smiles serene
Upon the tranquil Thames, and cheers the sinking scene.
poem by William Lisle Bowles
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Unchained Melody (Parody on 'The Streets of London)
(John London’s Radio Talk Show when he was
accidentally locked in the toilet)
Did you hear the shrieks fo London
From the toilet in the station
Calling for Jon-Jon
To come and set him free.
Armine let forth a sigh
Should it be one or two-ply
Nobody worried
The show must go on.
So how can you say
You were lonely
…and things about
where the sun don’t shine…..
So Jon-Jon took you by the hand
And quelled indeed the
shrieks of London
Back to the station….
Unchained melody.
poem by Margaret Kollmer
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The Churches Of This World
since then the churches of the world
have gone mad
undesigned are they
to mangers and sheeps
and no light from any star
gets in
there is no window where
the moon can shine
its roof is a thick as
their self-made tenets
their walls are impenetrable
by the simplicities of our lives
their seats are reserved
for the kinds and
other majesties
there is no crib in there
for the baby to cry
and sleep
its floors in shining marbles
its pillars in gold and silver
that even God
would have second thoughts
coming.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Gardener XI: Come As You Are
Come as you are; do not loiter over
your toilet.
If your braided hair has loosened if
the parting of your hair be not straight,
if the ribbons of your bodice be not
fastened, do not mind.
Come as you are; do not loiter over
your toilet.
Come, with quick steps over the
grass.
If the raddle come from your feet
because of the dew, of the rings of bells
upon your feet slacken, if pearls drop
out of your chain, do not mind.
Come, with quick steps over the
grass.
Do you see the clouds wrapping the
sky?
Flocks of cranes fly up from the
further river-bank and fitful gusts of
wind rush over the heath.
The anxious cattle run to their stalls
in the village.
Do you see the clouds wrapping the
sky?
In vain you light your toilet lamp
--it flickers and goes out in the
wind.
Who can know that your eyelids
have not been touched with lamp-
black? For your eyes are darker
than rain-clouds.
In vain you light your toilet lamp--
it goes out.
Come as you are; do not loiter over
your toilet.
If the wreath is not woven, who
cares; if the wrist-chain had not been
linked, let it be.
The sky is overcast with clouds--it
is late.
Come as you are; do not loiter over
your toilet.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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Back Row Of The Picture House (Fun Poem 31)
Sitting in the back row
of the picture house the other day,
as the lights went out
the lovers came out to play.
First it was arms around shoulders,
then came the closer move,
it was then the kissing began.
There was more action going on
in the seats in front of me,
than there was on the big screen.
At one point I thought,
I was at a wrestling match.
They need subtitles and an X rating
to describe what happened next.
As I do not have one,
I’ll let your imagination do it for me.
Now when the lights went on
during intermission time.
Each had gone back
to their corners of the ring,
but once the lights went out,
they started all over again.
What was happening off screen
was more interesting than what was on it.
Finally, the movie was over,
and I did not see one bit of it.
There was more happening in the seats
than there ever was on the screen.
Tomorrow I’ll have to come back again
to try to see the big picture through once again.
That will be the third time this week.
poem by David Harris
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It’s No Fun Going To The Toilet
it’s no fun, dearest friends,
going to the toilet
with your entrails full
and at zero hour
and rushing to the toilet
and finding every cubicle shut in your face
and you run to the next
and there are grunting pigs
behind closed doors
and you are truly full,
and you know you are in big trouble
and there is not even a discreet bush corner
in the god-forsaken damned city;
and you are walking up and down outside the doors
like an irate Principal at a school assembly;
it’s really no fun
putting yourself through such agony
to put yourself on such public display
going to public toilets
when you could have cleared all
and achieved dignity
with proper timing
and good though boring habits
it’s no fun, really -
dearest friends,
hastening to the toilet
when your pipe is nearly at bursting point
and you rush in to the toilet
and though lucky enough
to find an enclosure
it’s really no fun, is it? -
all that hurry and urgency
at near bursting point
as you pow-wow before the toilet bowl
and your buckle is stubborn
and you plead to your private self:
O no, no…don’t burst…not yet…
and your damned zip gets stuck just then
and you continue your war dance
and you plead to your intimate self:
O no, no…don’t burst…not yet…not yet, please;
please don’t do this to me-self –
and just then the zip comes asunder
and you pull it down like thunder
and oh, what a relief, no doubt –
but it certainly was no fun
going there to the toilet at near-breaking point;
and how are you going to face the world
with your zip burst
and your buckle broken and hanging over now?
oh, so, dearest friends,
trust me
(no wisecracks here, please)
oh all you children of the earth
all infants and old
and the genteel and the virile
and the incontinent
and the humble and those with golden toilet bowls –
it’s never fun to rush in to the toilet
at near breaking or bursting point;
and though good routine
and roughage may never be fun either
it’s safer than trusting in City Councils that
do not plan for citizens at bursting point…
poem by Raj Arumugam
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Those who have free seats at a play hiss first.
Those who have free seats at the play are the first to hiss.