A VERBAL FART.
Sometimes I think that rhyming art
has things in common with a fart
so, in this rhyme, I’ll have a go
at showing you the things I know.
But first, I think I should point out
what my stoma is about,
as this might indicate why I
have this idea in my mind’s eye.
My stoma sits upon my tum,
replacing my malfunctioning bum,
so that is where my farts escape
from my faulty fart inscape.
I feel and hear my farts inside
rumbling round, ‘till they decide
it’s time to burst out in the air
so everyone around can share.
Sometimes the noise they make is loud,
sometimes they’re silent like a cloud
that can be seen, yet rarely heard,
a little like the written word.
Long before a fart emerges
I’m uncomfortable, with urges
showing that my mind still will
think that stink from my arse will spill.
The mind seems to want to play games
having weird and wonderous aims
to try to discombobulate
and put me in a confused state.
The gas that builds up in my gut
no longer exits from my butt
but makes its presence felt by way
of noise and smell ‘most everyday.
(continued->)
A VERBAL FART. (continued->)
Regarding rhymes, it’s much the same
as that flipping farting game,
for, in my mind, I must confess
the rhymes can cause a lot of stress.
Thoughts for my rhymes roll ‘round my head,
especially when I lie in bed,
when I can hear them rumbling
and even sometimes grumbling.
When I’ve a notion in my head
during the day or in my bed,
my focus of attention will
be drawn to it against my will.
A concept may expand inside
and might be difficult to hide
if it becomes the cause of pain
time, and time, and time again.
I cannot keep this thing at bay,
I cannot drag myself away
because it is inside of me
desperately struggling to get free.
This sensation’s like a fart
in that, inside it makes a start,
until it’s ready to come out
to tell the world what it’s about.
When seen on paper, written down
some rhymes can cause a critic’s frown
for both a fart and rhyming wit,
by some is seen, as simply ‘shit’.
But I would like to say to them
it’s easy for you to condemn
those things that might just disgust you
but have you thoroughly thought it through?
Rhymes and farts have stuff they share,
oft’ not enough for folks to care.
B. Withers 2024
