Does anyone know of any dirty poems, limericks, haikus etc. That are smutty?
Add yours on and see how many we can get. I'll start.
On the breast of a barmaid in Sale
Is tattoo'd the price of Brown ale
And on her behind
for the sake of the blind
Is the same information in braille |
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Filthy in both subject and moral tone:
I rise at eleven, I dine about two,
I get d*unk before seven; and the next thing I do,
I send for my whore, when for fear of a clap,
I spend in her hand, and I spew in her lap.
Then we quarrel and scold, 'till I fall fast asleep,
When the bitch, growing bold, to my pocket does creep;
Then slyly she leaves me, and, to revenge the affront,
At once she bereaves me of money and cunt.
If by chance then I wake, hot-headed and d*unk,
What a coil do I make for the loss of my punk!
I storm and I roar, and I fall in a rage,
And missing my whore, I bugger my page.
Then, crop-sick all morning, I rail at my men,
And in bed I lie yawning 'till eleven again.
By the same author is the greatest poem ever written about premature ejaculation followed by impotence..:
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/50452/the-imperfect-enjoyment |
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By *oggoneMan
over a year ago
Derry |
I first thought of Marvell's coy mistress, then I remembered this one. Probably more erotic than filth
“What Do Women Want?”
I want a red dress.
I want it flimsy and cheap,
I want it too tight, I want to wear it
until someone tears it off me.
I want it sleeveless and backless,
this dress, so no one has to guess
what’s underneath. I want to walk down
the street past Thrifty’s and the hardware store
with all those keys glittering in the window,
past Mr. and Mrs. Wong selling day-old
donuts in their café, past the Guerra brothers
slinging pigs from the truck and onto the dolly,
hoisting the slick snouts over their shoulders.
I want to walk like I’m the only
woman on earth and I can have my pick.
I want that red dress bad.
I want it to confirm
your worst fears about me,
to show you how little I care about you
or anything except what
I want. When I find it, I’ll pull that garment
from its hanger like I’m choosing a body
to carry me into this world, through
the birth-cries and the love-cries too,
and I’ll wear it like bones, like skin,
it’ll be the goddamned
dress they bury me in.
By Kim Addonizio |
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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago
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there once was a man from nantuckit
whose cock was so big he could suck it
he said with a grin wiping spunk from his chin
if my ear was a fanny id fuckit |
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