Shit House

l 100+ pointsm 1+ points - Newb

Inspired by shithouses on various highway rest stops. With apologies to Robert Frost and Ghost House.

I sit in a skanky house I know

And sat many an hour ago

  Staring at the gray, steel stalls

  O, ass, do ye hear my calls?

I need a long, brown log to grow!

O'er splattered pot walls, a fart has pealed

My ass, I hope, a shit will yield

  My innards are now doing flops

  The corn I ate producing crops

Perhaps I shall shit a field.

I deal with a strangely rancid fart

That threatens to blow my cheeks apart

  Hoping, praying to dump my load

   'Tis merely gas my ass has blow'd

Air comes; I would rather shit than fart

The turtlehead is coming out

As my bunghole's lips purse then pout

  I feel my sphincter begin to sway

  Hark! Perhaps a poop coming to play?

As it arrives, I cry out

"No, turd, you're thick as tar!"

I hope no one has fucked with my car.

  I thought I only had to pee

  Now, my asshairs cry in agony!

Doubtless, in a mire of flames, with an inferno, on par.

'Tis a fiery and tireless shit -- it makes me mad!

When I think of the travel time I once had

  But out a final "plop!" sings

  I wipe my ass, and flush this thing

I'm out of the shithouse, and am glad!

20 Comments on "Shit House"

Thunderbox's picture
PoopReport of the Year AwardComment Quality Moderatorj 1000+ points

The problem of shitting in strange stalls
With graffiti scrawled upon the walls,
Is that you`ll read an ode,
Not consider your load
And finish up with turd spattered balls.

(well...if you`re a guy with diarrhea, that is)

The voice of sanity

DungDaddy's picture
Comment Quality Moderatorj 1000+ points

Shits, I just don't know where you come up with this stuff. I have tried to poetize, but can't get even one verse.

daphne's picture
PoopReport of the Year AwardSite AdminComment Content ModeratorComment Quality Moderatore 6000+ points

That's a kick ass poem. I have to hand it to you, Shits Happily, you've got a real talent. You are officially a Poo-et loo-reaute.

.....hugging bunnies since 1969

.....hugging bunnies since 1969

The Thunderous Crapper 63's picture
k 500+ points

This reminds me of my favorite poet Mr. Edgar Allan Poo! I agree with the daphster there! You're doing a fine job Shits so keep em coming!
The Thunderous Crapper 63 Enjoying home toilet advantage since 2004!


prarie doggin's picture
PoopReport of the Year AwardComment Quality Moderatorg 4000+ points

Very fine poem there Shits'. I can attest to the fact that there is not much worse than taking a protracted, evil, multi-wiper in a public stall. There is nothing to do in that damn metal box, but try to get it over with asap. Since I have to plant my ass in many public stalls, maybe someday we will be in ajoining booths and we can collaborate on a messterpiece.

But then again that would mean one of us is in the wrong bathroom.

Phillip_D_Trousers's picture
m 1+ points - Newb

Some come here to sit and think

Some come here to shit and stink

but i come here to scratch my balls

and read the writing on the walls

The Shit Volcano's picture
Comment Quality Moderatorh 3000+ points

Nice poem! It's nice to see some more pooetry after a long time without a new verse. As mentioned above, this poem has captured the agony of a public dump and an ambush attack by million wiper gnomes.

Born right the first time.

I found Jesus! He was behind the sofa the whole time!

MSG's picture
Comment Quality Moderatori 2000+ points

Lovely pooem that captures the struggle very well. Let's see . . .

The room is full, yet I see not a soul;
They all are in the stalls. One stall is left
Unoccupied; but poop is in the bowl,
A long and healthy brown turd of some heft.

My situation is now mandatory:
The choice is not to go or flee.
This one stall left in the lavatory
Is now the only one that's left for me.

I try to flush the pot, but it is dead.
Can I leave this room to find another?
No, not a bit--my turd now pokes its head,
So down come trou, and one turd comes, its brother

Following soon, with plops and grunts and more as
My poops with all the rest now join the chorus.
I'm done, but envy all the rest whose flushing
Fills the room from which I now am rushing.

shitwit's picture
k 500+ points

Yeah, baby!! I love it! I've loved Frost's poems since I was very young, and it seems his works kinda set themselves up for some great poop adlibbing. Keep them coming!

Rock-n-roll! Poopy-poo!

Rock-n-roll! Poopy-poo!

Bran Lover's picture
k 500+ points

--and piles to go before I sleep.
--and piles to go before I sleep.

To affect the quality of the poo, that is the art of life. ~Thoreau, sort of.

To affect the quality of the poo, that is the art of life. ~Thoreau, sort of.

Herbert's picture

On a tangentially related note, I'm still shocked to learn that girls actually poop.

Disturbingly enough, I heard a girl fart yesterday. My illusions are shattered.

Bilgepump's picture
Comment Quality Moderatorh 3000+ points

Oh Dear, my little Herbie is growing up....I"m getting one of those tears in my happens too fast....where are those by gone days of diapers and shit covered hair....

The proper order is kiss me, then go smell the other dog or cat's butt. I cannot stress this enough.

"One of the founding members of the Front Page Hyena Pack, and runs as its alpha male when the urge strikes him, which is often." Daphne (one perceptive chick)

Shits Happily In The Shadows's picture
l 100+ pointsm 1+ points - Newb

Thank you, all, for your kind words! I felt the urge to lampoon for PR's pleasure, and as soon as I saw "Ghost House", well, I knew right then and there. Shitwit, you are correct--Robert Frost may have had this in mind. ;) Daphne, I am honored, nay, humbled, by your naming me Poo-et Loo-reate of PR. (Curtseys) Thank you!

Ohh...I feel my snark pen rising to assault yet another poet's artistry...
Assaulting toilets since 1977!

Assaulting toilets since 1977!

MSG's picture
Comment Quality Moderatori 2000+ points

I rise up early in the dark of morning
To greet another beauty of a day.
It is too soon as yet to see the dawning,
But peristalsis starts ere sun's first ray.

A slow and gentle pressure lets me know
That soon a bowel movement must ensue.
I feel a subtle fullness down below.
Hark, hark! a fart, long, loud, and fragrant--phew!

The system settles down, no action yet;
Releasing gas has damped for now the need.
And yet, somewhere inside, the time is set
For me to find the place, and do the deed.

The chyme has passed the duodenum now.
The colon takes it in and slows its pace.
The chyme now loses water, and its flow
Slows down; each colon fold and turn a base

From which to mold and, yes, assume a shape.
For now it has become a solid log,
Well formed to find my anus and escape.
The pressure builds; I now move to the bog.

A final fart; a push; relax; it comes.
A hefty turd first sees the light of day.
It eases past the anus; then it plumbs
The depths; I stand; my poop is on display.

There lies the turd, long, hefty, thick and brown;
It almost seems a shame to flush it down.

Anonymous Coward's picture

here i sit all broken hearted
tryed to shit, but in stead i farted

shit house poet # 4123

Russell's picture
l 100+ points

Nice shithouse poem

Russell the shitting queen

Bathroom Poet's picture

Rest room poem

This is a place to void your guts.
Not a place to bust your nuts.

Keep it clean and keep it neat.
Go back home to beat your meat.

ChiefThunderbutt's picture
PoopReport of the Year AwardComment Content ModeratorComment Quality Moderatorf 5000+ points

Bathroom Poet.....You have inspired me....even as I type this comment, with one hand, I am giving my bishop a vigorous flogging.

Eat chilies and feel the burn!!

If I had two faces do you think I'd be wearing this one?

Anonymous's picture

Here I sit in silent bliss listening to running piss
Now and then a fart is heard to tell you of the coming turd!


ChiefThunderbutt's picture
PoopReport of the Year AwardComment Content ModeratorComment Quality Moderatorf 5000+ points

I must be critical of your pentameter Anonymous, the addition of one simple word "the" and breaking your submission into four rather than two lines I believe will vastly improve it.

Here I sit in silent bliss,
Listening to the running piss.
Now and then a fart is heard,
To tell you of the coming turd.

If I had two faces do you think I'd be wearing this one?

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