Monday, November 12, 2007

The lost poems of the lesser known "Robby Frost" (not Robert)

by Cheddar

The Language of Love

My Darling-

Do you fecal the long winter nights, when best of intestines we had?
When ‘twas vogue to cuddle and giggle and toilet our hearts be glad?
Can you remember me colon you up, words of true love in my heart?
And how I’d manure myself close beside you, our forms a work o’ fart?
We would double date with Ernie and Sue, and when the night was dung,
they anus would crowd ‘round the piano to sing every song that we sung.
Commode my darling, look in my eyes, and tell me our love shall ordure.
Tell me the state of emotion urine and that the love that we feel is still pure.
And know the excrement that I felt when I met you remains with me to this day.
And no matter how offal the world becomes, I’m guano love you the very same way.
The very same way every day.

One False Step

Let not thy poodle run free ‘pon the earth,
And let not thy dachshund roam
Let not thy collie untethered frolic
And stray from the boundaries of home
Nay, let not thy beagle in careless abandon
Run carelessly through all the yews
For let it be known, dear friends and neighbors
That feces is bad for the shoes.

Swordfighting: A Haiku

Pants around ankles
I stand in preparation
To meet your onslaught

A peepee epee
Is my God given weapon
To counter your thrusts

Obscene is our joust
To the casual observer
But for us it's grand

What else would we do
'pon a typical Sunday,
Play cribbage or such?

It's over like that,
I now stand victorious
O'er your innate form

And sheathe my weapon
In it's rubber scabbard….
The spoils are now mine.