A collection of original and classic poems from across the internet.

Tendies, Tendies on my Plate



Tendies, tendies on my plate
Never early, never late.
At 12 o’clock it’s lunchie time.
and mommy serves them on a dime.

Mommy cooks them in the oven
to show me extra special lovin’.
Add honey mustard sauce to this
to send me into tendie bliss

Good Boy Points are thus required
to get the tendies I desired.
And if I wish to go to Wendy’s,
I must spend points to get my tendies.

I turn in points that I’ve compiled
from huggies, kissies; not running wild
“What a good boy you’ve been today
let’s go to Wendy’s and let’s repay.”

“But you’ve been eating way too much chicken.
you’re getting a burger, no screamin’ or kickin’.”
This makes me mad; this makes me bitter.
This makes me extricate my shitter.

I blast her mouth and punch her head
until I’m sure my mommy’s dead
I steal her purse and take her money
To buy my tendies, mustard and honey

I purchase tendies from the nice lady
(although they’re nuggies, which I find lazy).
As I devour my chicken treats,
My life has never been so sweet.

The Night of the Roof Koreans.

Rodney King Riots Timeline


‘Twas the week of Thanksgiving and all through Missouri
niggers would smash windows and run off in a hurry
in sagging groid-pants they didn’t know how to wear
they would run through a store and leave the shelves bare.

When most people were asleep, all snug in their beds,
the streets were full of strange monkeys with pubes on their heads.
With Chin-sun at the register, and me on the roof,
aiming my new rifle at any groid toof.

When in the parking lot there arose such a clatter,
I readied the trigger, for ape brains to splatter.
Through my window went a brick which a nig had just pitched;
I knew my store was next to be culturally enriched.

The glow of the fires burning off in the night
gave the luster of midday to all the niggers in sight.
With greasy black faces and each with a sneer,
came a pack of wild negroids to my store drawing near.

With pants on the ground like some typical nigs,
I knew they were coming to steal liquor and cigs.
Like rampaging silver-backs in the jungle, they came,
so I looked through my scope and shouted, and called them by name!

“Hey Tyrone! Hey Jamal! Hey DeShaun and Fo’Tayus!
Hey DeeRay! Hey Kwantel! DeMarcus and Drayfus!”
“You stay out my store, you reave me arone, scoot!
You niggers no scare me! You root and I shoot!”

Like chimps in the zoo, when monkey snack time has come,
they did ook; they did eek; but still they did come.
So I lined up my cross-hairs on the burliest nigger
and readied my finger to squeeze on the trigger.

And then as I steadied my rifle to aim,
I wondered who the media would decide was to blame.
As I drew in my breath and was ready to shoot,
suddenly the pack stopped, no longer looking to loot.

And what to my slanty yellow eyes did appear?
None other than Saint Zim Zam and a pack full of gear!
“Neighborhood watch,” he said with a smile,
“Officers Dorner and Wilson will be here in a while.”

He was ready for heat, like a good coffee stirrer
with all the poise and panache of a great German Führer.
Duel-wielding desert eagles with a knife in his teeth,
he stood ready to wipe out the horde of monkeys beneath.

One pistol he emptied, and then emptied the other,
with each pull of the trigger he deleted one brother.
Though he was half Hispanic and half European,
he fought like the bravest of any roof Korean.

He switched from his pistols to a weapon much faster:
a 12-gauge deluxe pump-action groid-blaster.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
never twitching an eye, never losing his smirk.

When all the darkies had fled and my store was secure,
I thanked him for saving this immigrant entrepreneur.
I offered him anything he might want in my store:
“You take what you want. You big hero for sure!”

“No,” he told me, “my reward was an acquittal.”
“But I could use a snack… you got any skittles?”

Gimme Gimme Chicken Tendies.



Gimme gimme chicken tendies,
be they crispy or from Wendy’s.
Spend my hard-earned good boy points
on kid’s meal ball pit burger joints.

Mommy lifts me to the car
to find me tendies near and far.
Enjoy my tasty tendie treats
in comfy big boy booster seats.

McDonald’s Hardee’s, Popeye’s, Cane’s,
but of my tendies, none remains.
She tries to make me take a nappy
but sleeping doesn’t make me happy.

Tendies are the only food
that puts me in the napping mood.
I’ll scream, I’ll shout, I’ll make a fuss.
I’ll scratch, I’ll bite, I’ll even cuss!

Tendies are my heart’s desire,
fueled by raging, hungry fire.
Mommy sobs, and wails and cries,
But tears aren’t tendies, nugs or fries.

My good boy points were fairly earned
to buy the tendies that I’ve yearned.
But there’s no tendies on my plate.
Did mommy think that I’d just ate?

Tendies, tendies, get them now!
You fat, ungrateful, sluggish sow!

An Ode to Reddit.



A website called Reddit, so pretentious and lame;
they try to use memes to gain internet fame.
The comments are sad but the users much sadder.
Their egos inflated but their stomachs much fatter.

They judge and complain behind internet walls
Too oblivious to notice they have no life at all.
When opinions conflict, they’ll cry and they’ll mope,
then they’ll show you who’s boss with a raging downvote.

And if that doesn’t work, they’ll call their mod-saviors
who’ll ban you to keep peace in their calm echo-chambers.
So tread lightly on Reddit or you’ll pay their fine.
Your voice will be silence from their liberal hivemind.

It’s probably better you just stick to /b/
where the posts are offensive but the people are free.
No voting, no rules; just corpses and maggots;
some tits and some pussy, and we’re all nigger-faggots.




Once upon a midnight dreary,
while porn I surfed, weak and weary,
O’er many a strange and spurious site
of ‘hot chicks galore’.

While I clicked my fav’rite bookmark,
suddenly there came a warning,
and my heart was filled with mourning,
mourning for my dear amour.

“‘Tis not possible,” I pleaded,
but my browser, so conceited,
remained blank, then I repeated,
just a blank and nothing more.

With a scream, I was defeated,
for my cookies were deleted.
so I begged, no longer seated,
“Give me back my free hardcore!”

Then, in an answer to my query,
though the net I loved so dearly,
came its answer, dark and dreary:
quoth the server, 404.

Poo in Loo



Cat can poo in the loo.
Say, Apu, why can’t you?
Dog can poo in the loo.
Can you, Apu? Can you?

Monkey too, can poo in loo.
I say, Apu, why can’t you?
Sloth is slow, slow as glue,
yet even he can poo in loo.

Elephant is big and large.
He needs toilet size of barge.
But he is smart compared to you,
for elephant can poo in loo.

Even Slav who dumb as bricks,
and barely rub together sticks,
when needs to go, what do he do?
unlike you, he poo in loo.

Rat is small and lives on streets,
feasting on discarded treats,
but when it’s time for number two,
even rat can poo in loo.

Lying jew who says “oy vey”
and cheats and steal from us all day,
yet he knows just what to do:
he takes his poo into the loo.

Dirty Frenchman smells so bad,
he thinks that soap is just a fad.
Yet he cries aloud, “Mon Dieu!”
And places poo within the loo.

The time has come for our tale to end
so let’s remind our Indian friend:
Unless you’re stupid you already knew,
the loo is made for you to poo.

A Thug Named Brown



There once was a thug named Brown

who bum-rushed a cop with a frown.

six bullets later,

he met his creator

Then his homies burnt down the town.

Kike, Kike

Goyim I


Kike, kike,
Scheming since a hook-nosed tyke;
Counts his pennies day and night;
squeals if one rolls out of sight.

Promotes a thousand social ills
for which you’ll have to foot the bills.

Lies about his loved-ones lost
in a myth they call the ‘holocaust’.

Coarse and pushy;
greedy and trite;




G is for Gaben, more of a man than me;

A is for anus, I open it for thee;

B is for butter I’ll spread it all over you;

E is for erection, please stick it where I poo;

N is for natural, how all of this will feel;

Gaben is my all: he makes me feel so real.

The Omega Uprising



Do not believe the roastie’s lies
when she comes around to proselytize;
she’ll screech and protest all day long,
denying she’s taken miles of schlong.

“Genetics!” she will cry in fear,
praying there is a white knight near;
but no help comes, there’s no salvation
from the omega uprising sweeping the nation!

Innies are alright with me,
with all their virtue and their purity;
they know what womanhood’s about,
and with one voice cry: “ROASTIES OUT!”

But be aware the roastie’s tempting calls,
luring betas to her cavernous halls;
she’ll suck you up, and then you’ll be
a slave to her vile cuckoldry.

We see now, with our open eyes
the plainness of the roastie’s lies;
we’ll stick with innies, and nevermore
shall we lie with an Arby’s sandwich whore.