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Wednesday, March 11, 2015

Featuring Ben John Smith

War of the worlds

God failed
the holy war
and Satan
created a
In which
We desperately,
Try to revive
The loser.
Our tough as
fight for the
Under dog
With more
In sports arenas
In all the
Jam packed
whole wide
white white white

A poem for st valentine
Like you are
a whale at war.
Like The loneliness
Of a single beer
Still wrapped
In a six pack of
Like a street
Leaves only
The best things
In a dance
That looks
Like death.
The winner
Still gone.
Still screaming
"Get me
Out of here."
But it's worth
The battle
The knife fights
Hopeless hobos;
Lost in a throw
On a hot summer night.
It's worth it
To know a
Who has an ass
like a silver back gorilla.
A woman that
Cuts meat
In her underpants;
And while
Young valentines
Buy cards and flowers
Real lovers
Fall asleep drunk
With spaghetti still
Boiling in a pressure pot.

There is no bones in the penis
The soul is made of bone
teeth and fingernails

not penises and vaginas.

And as far as I know we have one more bone
in our chest,

that you gave us!

Always like you guys to
give us A bit more weight to carry around

in our chests.

We can GROW ears on a mice


We can!

Sure! Rip of your vagina,

but being a vaginaless man won’t get
someone to cook you a pot roast

Believe me,

we have the technology

I can put a cock on you
for ten grand or less.

I know a doctor in the
Phillippines that owes me a favour or two

but having a dick changes NOTHING.

I have a very averaged size penis
and i still have to eat sleep shower and shit.

you do that too right?

Who is the fucking feminist here?

anything that’s fleshy
rots quick and
goes to the gardeners

Truth is
one day many years from now
when you die

your vagina is going to be just a bloated green slug
looking thing

as will my penis

just like that time i stuck it in a vacuum cleaner.

The truth is.

Men and women are no different at all.

We have the same insecurities,
same fears,

share the same love and
the same


The same sex.

the same moody moments
and the same
high times.

We all want love.

We all want to be adored

to be lusted after

to be happy.

The soul is made of bone
teeth and fingernails.

the soul is not a penis

the soul is not a vagina.

and the soul is not strong

it doesn’t have a six pack
or a wicked set of pin-striped ovaries.

the soul doesn’t have a

it doesn’t have a wallet
or an agenda.

the soul is made of bone
teeth and fingernails.

the soul is the only thing
you can’t tear away when you’re sick of it.

the soul is pan sexual

and would never put fruit up its ass.

the soul is made of bone
teeth and fingernails.

I don’t want to be a man

or a woman.

i’m satisfied being
pretty pink painted

The 8th wonder of the world

I have almost seen
the whole world
but I never once
put any of them places
into a poem

because no place
was worth a dime
if you weren't in it.

I don't really care
For peace treaties

Saving Dolphins from
Trawl nets

Writing poems
About silver-back gorillas

Or rainforests.

I have flesh to write of.

I have bones
to make up my words.

The world is beautiful
but holds no stars
when compared to my universe.

My world wears scrunchies
And does yoga.

My world
Leaves the toothpaste all
Mangled and fucked up
After every use.

She listens to YouTube videos
In the same room
When I'm watching films.

Our garden is my Amazon.

The bath water my Ganges,

The pyramids
our mounds of washing
To be put away.

Sure the world was cool,
And I love travel

but the only
Home I ever had was in


Heart and all

I was speaking to a Christian about organ donation.

She said,

What if god won't let you into heaven
if you're missing pieces

or have pieces in someone else.

I said if that's the kinda dude god is

I don't want him to have
any piece of me at all

and ticked the box marked;


Ben Smith is a hack writer and runs a dirty website called Horror Sleaze and Trash. He has two cats, one wife and too many personalities. He can be found here: