RHYMING POEMS ABOUT SEX: Extended Ebook Edition

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

DEDICATED TO

Philip G. Taylor, the tightest, most poetry poet in poetry class, who died
The regulars at the Brown Banana Books open mic
Ethan Coen (of The Coen Brothers)
Anyone who likes stupid shit


FUNERAL SPEECH

I’ll tell you this much about Katie:    
She was quite the promiscuous lady
She sometimes had sex
That was very complex
But she never had sex with a baby


TO THE TUNE OF “ONE” BY HARRY NILSSON

X is the sexiest letter in the alphabet
Q is not as hot as X
But in fact it looks a little more like sex


A SONNET FOR TUB GIRL

Her face is not the reason for her fame
Though radiant, it’s seen by precious few
A mystery, just like her real name
Irrelevant to what she came to do  
It’s said Christian Bale commits to a role
And Frances McDormand is fearless  
What, pray, has either one done with their holes?  
Compared to my girl, they are rearless
If Oakley, Annie could shoot with her fanny  
If William Tell’s face was his target
If X-Men were oversexed men and Japan-y     
They’d marvel to see my girl arc it
Some girls are flexible, some girls can spray
Nobody does it like tubgirl.ca
 

GOLD MEDALIST

What scientists wanted to find was
What the smallest dick of all time was
They found, in a thicket
A small baby cricket
But his dick was bigger than mine was


PARANOID  

A nosy young wife was suspecting
Her businessman husband of sexting
Indeed, texts were found
But her fears proved unsound
It was only his friend, Jeffrey Epstein


S.M.H.

On the internet, to my surprise
I found out the government lies
It’s all over Reddit
But I just don’t get it
What kind of man fucks pizza pies?


MISCOMMUNICATION

At Burning Man once, in a tent
I was fucked in the ass by George Wendt
My wife, just that morn
Had yelled “fuck the Norms!”
But now says that’s not what she meant


NAPA ROOTS

I put grapes in her butt (that’s amore!)  
Lie naked, supine, in the foyer
She squats o’er my face and
North Cali wine tastin’
Is what we call step number 4A


FUNERAL SPEECH #2

Playing “cookie game” once, drunk on rum   
Fearing I would be last man to cum  
I pictured your mom
Now she has passed on
But I think she’d be proud that I won


META CRITIC  

Little Jack Horny
Lay there forlornly
With an old man 69ing
He stuck out his tongue
Got blasted with cum
And said “why’s it all icky rhyming?”


THE RHYMING POET’S LAMENT

Limericks and pinner dicks:
They say there’s correlation
Vaginas treat a rhymer
Like a hostile foreign nation
My texts are full of sex  
But the narrator’s not trusted
When I write and recite some
To a girl for whom I’ve lusted
My wordplay’s met with mockery
Derision, smirks and hate
The word gay’s used a lot on me
By those who surf and skate
But who’s more insecure:
The person getting mad at art
Or this old dirty wordsmith
With a song inside his heart?
Long ago I made my choice
That’s why I’m walking tall
Rejoicing in my voice, now
But it’s true, my dick is small


IT’S THE MOTION OF THE OCEAN, NOT...

The complexion of the erection  
The direction of the injection
The position of the emission
The viscosity of the atrocity
The immensity of the gents in me
The size of truck of the guys I fuck
The brevity of the levity
The BPM of the DP men
The diameter of the man in her  
The amount of air in the dinghy


STREET FOOD   

I know an old man from Korea
Makes soup in the back of his Kia
It looks like Nutella
Gives you salmonella
And tastes just like old diarrhea


OPPOSITES ATTRACT

I know an old hippie named Rosco
Who hangs out at rock shows, and rock shows
His weed is sativa
His shoe is a Teva
But his wife is indica/Chaco


SIMPLE MAN

I don’t need to see dildos or plugs
While performing my manual tugs
I can still get a thrill
From a sight as vanill’
As a girl in a cage eating slugs


BOI-OI-OING

My friend told me, while drunk on Coors
That the male sex organ of boars
Is shaped like a corkscrew
And sounds, when they pork you
Like those springs that save walls from doors  


THE BULL & I

My wife thought me, in bed, under-zealous
So she hired some large, muscular fellas
To cuck me, but then
One became a close friend
We hang out without her, and she’s jealous


WEDDING VOWS  

My dick’s like a tick’s, or mosquito’s
Slight in even the tightest of Speedos    
But one look in your eyes
Can expand it in size
From a munchkin’s to Danny DeVito’s  


TELEPHONE

A moth who was interested in sex  
Whispered to me his genre of interest   
I said “xvideos”
He said “That’s hideous!
You misheard--I want porn about insects”  


THE SASSY WAITRESS

I yelled at a waitress named Ronnette
To hurry and make me an omelette
She filled my poor asshole  
With so much Tobasco
The whole Hooter’s wait staff applauded


TO THE TUNE OF “CONSIDER YOURSELF” FROM THE MUSICAL “OLIVER!”

(Please read with the song playing in the background.)

Come diddle yourself / at home / come diddle yourself / for your own sanity / you’ve been horny for / so long / yes, you’ve / been / unlucky with the dong / come diddle yourself / well in / come diddle yourself / all over the furniture / yes, that is the spot / right there / right there! / your / hand and you make a pair / if it should chance to be you should be a lonely one / who is owed a cum / why wait? / always a chance to skeet / nobody can match the thrill / you get when you masturbate! / come diddle yourself / why wait? / there ain’t gotta be / no thrust / they say clitoral stimulation’s good for health / so diddle yourself / till ya bust


BUSTED

I destroyed the receipts and the playbill
My voice, as I lied, sounded stable
But again I got caught
Cause I somehow forgot
The big shit you took on my glass table


NERD HUMOR

My peers call me loser and nerd-o
And I’m always stargazing, ergo
If my sex past
As a star sign were cast
It would, without question, be Virgo  


SOUNDCLOUD GROUPIE
 
Due, I think, to the drugs they ingest
The loving’s not always the best
We have dirty sex
For 1 min, 30 secs
Then their penises get quite depressed


HALLOWEEN (2007)

In a field where the crows never caw
I touched a girl under the bra
The ultimate thrill  
But she stood super still
And her tits felt a lot like wet straw

 
DIRTY D

The mattress was covered in actress
Blood, cigarette butts and matches
As for the back of it?   
Drenched in ejaculate
See, babe? It’s fun doing Mad Libs


ABOUT THE AUTHOR  

Jesse Wilson is the CEO of Brown Banana Books in Grass Valley, CA (brownbananabooks.com). He enjoys reading, writing, freestyle rapping, freestyle swimming, hanging out with friends and watching adult films on his computer. 

THE LAND OF FOOD

You should call me Ishmael. It’ll make sense later on in the story. (Ishmael’s the name of the guy from Moby Dick, which is a famous book about whales. Hint, hint.)  Actually, now that I think about it, you should call me Jonah, like the guy from The Bible who was eaten by a whale. And actually, if you’ve read that story, you can skip this story, because that’s exactly what happened to me. 

In my old life, I was a reckless marine biology student who studied the insides of whales. Plus I had a minor in creative writing. (All F’s in that, though!) One day, I experimented too deep. 

It’s crazy, the feeling of being eaten by something, and then feeling that thing dive deep down into the blackest depths of the ocean with you inside its stomach. At first, I felt claustrophobic. It reminded me of when I used to take BART from my apartment in San Francisco to the Marine Biology Research Lab at North Central Hayward Community College. Whenever the train dipped into the trans-bay tunnel, I’d start loudly talking someone’s ear off about how much it would suck if there was an earthquake and the train slowly filled up with water, and we all clawed and trampled each other to death trying to get to the air that was left. I think I thought that by talking about it, I’d make other people feel anxious about it, and that would make me feel good or something. I don’t know, I was doing a lot drugs back then. Environmental Science students love drugs, that’s no secret. 

Anyway, I was swallowed. It's been at least a couple days now. Life is easy, yet hard. I have a little mouthpiece device like at the beginning of THE PHANTOM MENACE that allows me to breathe and drink water, but there’s nothing to eat. You’re not in the land of eating anymore. You’re in the land of food. That’s what I tell myself, when I get hungry. THE END. 

WOOK

I was looking so uncommonly fresh that it startled my mom. She’d never seen me like this. (Red jacket, Hawaiian shirt, hat with a bird on it, sunglasses. Great lighting.) 

“Are you going to a party?” she asked. She sounded hopeful, which stung. I was 30 then, living with my rich parents and washing dishes 6 days a week at a sorority in Berkeley. I was surrounded by beautiful, horny girls there, but I looked and felt like shit so I just ogled through a hole in the dishpit and blasted Indestructible Beat of Soweto on my little boombox. 

Things were looking up now, though. Kappa Kappa Gamma  was closed for the summer, and I was about to hike up the mountain and do some drugs. On my last day of work, I’d walked down to People’s Park to give the wooks one last styrofoam container of bisque, and they'd given me 4 gel tabs of acid.

None of my friends would do acid with me, due to my penchant for thinking I was a religious prophet and taking my clothes off, but that was fine.

“It’s not really a party” I told my mom.

“Okaaaay” she said. 

I ascended the mountain on foot, took the acid at the top, right as it was getting dark, and realized suddenly that dark was going to be a major theme of my vision quest. 

Hmm.  

How? I asked the mountain. 

Just...be a creature on the mountain it said. 

I inched my way down. Right foot. Pause. Right foot. Pause. 

Maybe I should take my clothes off, to get in the zone I thought. 

I threw my jacket into a ravine and ripped off my shirt. A bunch of jingly shit fell out of my pockets as I was removing my pants. This will save me the step of rejecting technology and throwing my phone into a creek I thought. 

You're doing it again I scolded myself. 

It took me about 8 hours to reassemble my outfit.

As the sun rose, I realized how muddy I was. I’ve turned into a wook I thought. Those wooks gave me drugs to turn me into a wook, and it worked. 

It was beautiful out. I hiked to the top of a ridge and looked down at the seaside village where I was raised. 

Boy, I hope my mom isn’t doing her morning hike today I thought. But of course she was. My mom’s very good at sticking to her fitness regimen. 

“Wow” she said when she saw me. “How was your party?”  

“It...wasn’t really a party” I said.  

She looked at me funny. 

“Ok, bye” I said. 

 

PICTURES I SAVED FROM MY OLD BOX OF NOSTALGIA CRAP

 

AN INTERVIEW WITH GRANDMIXER GMS ABOUT PACIFIC NORTHWEST RAP IN THE 80'S

I went to college in the Pacific Northwest, and I went to a Dilated Peoples concert and one "Hip-Hop Congress" meeting there, but I never really learned anything about Pacific Northwest rap until my first senior year, when I read a Cocaine Blunts post about it. Before then, the only Pacific Northwest rappers I could name were Phil Harmonic, Sir Mix-A-Lot and Blue Scholars. Isn't that lame? I was a rap nerd in college! The sad truth is, many people who have lived in the Pacific Northwest their entire lives would be hard-pressed to name five rappers from there. Many people not from the Pacific Northwest would be hard-pressed to name one. Try to name one I haven't mentioned yet. Ahhh I forgot about Macklemore. In any event, I'm not here to roast Pacific Northwest rap. I'm here to do the opposite.

Listen: it's easy and maybe even fun to paint Oregon and Washington as two big coffee shops full of hippie punk rockers who smoke DMT all day and listen to shitty electronic music but you know in your heart there's more to these places than that. If I can get serious for a second, you need to stop treating the world like a damn cartoon. That's the type of anti-intellectual horseshit that is ruining this country. It's time for you to learn and accept that some creative, high quality rap has been made in that corner of America, especially in the 80's. There was movement in those ferns.

Enter your teacher, {********HORNHORNHORN***********} GrandMixer GMS. He's the man who taught me everything I know about Pacific Northwest rap that I didn't learn from that Cocaine Blunts post, and today he is going to teach you. He hosts a show on KFOX's Nightbeat that you can hear here, and I know you're tired of this intro by now but let me just tell you this is one of the best possible people I could get to teach you about the subject of the rap scene in Seattle, Portland Tacoma and Spokane in the 80's. Are you ready?

NODF: Who is the first Pacific Northwest rapper you remember hearing?

GMS: The first Pacific Northwest rapper I remember hearing, aside from the people I knew around the neighborhood and in my network of friends, was Sir Mix-A-Lot. I first heard him on Seattle’s 1250 KFOX. DJ Nasty Nes played one of his songs on his show, KFOX Fresh Tracks. I believe the song was called “Why Do The Rappers Lie.” Over time I heard more songs from Sir Mix-A-Lot, but I also remember the Emerald Street Boys who did the intro for Fresh Tracks. However, the first Hip-Hop DJ’s I remember hearing were Nasty Nes (KFOX), Sir Mix-A-Lot (KFOX & mix tapes), Arnell Smith (KTOY – Tacoma), Reggie Reg Taylor (KTOY), and Spokane’s original mixtape King was a guy named Skeet (Paul Bradley, Jr.) (R.I.P.). Skeet was a very talented musician and DJ and I always heard his mixtapes from everyone. I had the honor of working with him in the late 80s. Sadly, he died in, I believe, the late 90’s while saving his daughter from drowning.

Were you guys listening to any Bay Area rappers in the 80s?

I didn’t really hear any Bay Area rappers until the mid-80s. The first one I remember hearing was Too Short.  However, I heard many mixes from the Bay Area back then from KSOL and then KMEL. The DJ mixing was the legendary Cameron Paul (R.I.P.). I was very impressed with the recordings I heard from Bay Area radio.

How did you get your music information? Were there any cool record stores or magazines you remember?

I received my music and Hip-Hop info from any source possible: MTV (back when they showed music videos), though they didn’t have Yo MTV Raps until much later, but I remember seeing Herbie Hancock perform with Grandmixer D.X.T. (D.S.T.) and that was incredible. Recordings of other cities' radio stations were a major source of info, and simply word of mouth from family and friends. There was a really good record store in Spokane at the time called “Strawberry Jams” and it was by far the best record store in Spokane at the time! They had every Hip-Hop record back then, including records I had never heard – I spent all my allowance money on records there! I don’t remember any magazines in the early days, but eventually came The Source, Vibe, and the lesser known The Bomb (from the Bay Area), and Canada’s PROP$ Magazine.

What makes Pacific Northwest rap unique?

I think what may make it unique is its distance and semi-seclusion from the other major cities, which allowed many different genres to influence the style of music. The early music, at least from Sir Mix-A-Lot, was heavily influenced by early electro. Some people described Mix-A-Lot as a blend between Newcleus and Egyptian Lover. Then, you had a group of people who were huge fans of East Coast music, so their sound seemed to be an adaptation of that style of Hip-Hop.

What equipment did you start DJing with?

The equipment I started out with was a make-shift set up of standard home and portable stereo equipment. I bought turntables from yard sales that I would modify. Some would skip, so I made some adjustments to where they were nearly impossible to make skip; I modified “line switches” with tape so I could just press a button instead of moving a fader (similar to the “Flash Former” that came out years later, which I eventually bought); I bought an echo chamber and a mixer from Radio Shack, I bought another mixer from a pawnshop. My step-brother, Stevie, had a portable radio (boombox) that was perfect for doing “pause” mixes. My boombox also had a keyboard on it. So all of my early mixes were made from this type of equipment.

How did Nasty Nes discover Sir Mix A Lot?

As far as I know – and Nes would be the better authority on this – but Nes was the radio “jock” and Mix was the “street jock” (quoting what Mix-A-Lot told me years ago), and they actually didn’t like each other. Eventually, they decided to hook up (probably not the correct term to use now, but back then that’s how we would say people decided to work together), and Nes started playing Mix-A-Lot on his radio show. I also remember something about Ed Locke convincing Nes to go with him to a place where Mix-A-Lot was performing, and I think Nes initially resisted but reluctantly agreed – good thing he did! Ultimately, the three of them formed NastyMix Records (the name was taken from “Nasty” Nes and Sir “Mix”-A-Lot), and that was the label that launched Mix-A-Lot’s career. Again, Nes can provide more complete info on this subject. I also know that they went to the same high school, but I don’t think they really knew each other then.


Why do you think Portland never really developed a rap scene?

Portland actually had a good Hip-Hop scene. The first rap artist from Portland that I remember was DJ Vitamix. Vitamix recently pointed out to me that he was the first white rapper ever signed to a major record label. I’m not sure why his music never blew up. It was really good music. I used to mix his records back then and people would always ask me who it was. Portland had a radio station called KBOO that played mixes. Not Hip-Hop – but influential, nonetheless – was the group Nu Shooz (“I Can’t Wait”). The later artists I remember coming out of Portland were Cool Nutz and another guy named Bosco (E-40 producer and inventer of the ElectroSpit ESX-1 mobilephone-enabled talk box). (Whoa, Bosco's from Portland? -ed.) There are several very talented Portland-based rappers out now. One thing I noticed was the Portland scene seemed to be a bit more unification and the idea of simply creating good music, whereas in other parts of the PNW back in the 80’s and 90’s there was a lot of back-biting and smack talk (not with everyone, but with some of the artists). Of course, I wasn’t from Portland and have limited experience with that scene, but that’s what it seemed like back then.

Who is an unsung hero of PNW rap?

Who is an unsung here of PNW rap? Overall, I would say DJ Nasty Nes. While he is not a rapper, his efforts and connections in the music industry outside of Seattle played a big part in the career of Sir Mix-A-Lot. But if you’re asking about rappers or maybe rappers who were underrated and not-so-well-known, I would say either EDawg or Wojack (formerly MC Deff from Criminal Nation). They were/are incredibly talented and original, but they didn’t achieve the ultimate success I think they should have. This is not to take away what they were able to accomplish, but I think they should have went multi-platinum. Personally, I think they still could.

Where did you see you first rap show and what was it?

Aside from the rappers I had seen at early breakdancing competitions, the first major rap concert I attended was the Spring Rap Fest in Seattle in 1987. Sir Mix-A-Lot opened the show, followed by Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince, Kool Moe D, and then the 2 Live Crew (Grandmaster Flash was supposed to perform, but for whatever reason he didn’t). Nasty Nes was the host and this was the first time I actually saw him in person. This show had a major impact on me as a DJ because watching DJ Jazzy Jeff (and Mr.  Mixx) showed me how at that time I was nowhere near the level I should be as a DJ, but it was inspiring because it caused me to go home and practice! They were absolutely incredible on turntables and I am so thankful I was able to attend the show! Also, being able to see all of those artists perform was quite a treat because they were all great showmen, in their own right.

>>> 

Don't forget to check out Grandmixer GMS's show on DJ Nasty Nes' own Nightbeat, on Rainier Avenue Radio.

What did the mosquito say when his friend sent him a link to xvideos.com?

No, no no—I’m looking for insects porn.

GOOD FOR THE GOOSE

Sorry for the bombardment of content as of late. Whether it's via my blog, my juggernaut podcast with Thomas or my regularly updated instagram account, I can't seem to stop sharing. But hey--that's what the internet's for, right? 

Here's what's new in my twisted world: 

I've been having a reoccurring (two times) nightmare about a mutant seal with no head. It can't do anything but thrash and flop, but still it terrifies me with its tortured desperation.

It's dark in this brain of mine, readers. Lynchian, almost. (Brotha Lynchian.) But when I share it with you, it takes a little bit of the darkness away, because now you have to deal with it, too.

Fortunately, my thoughts aren't all bad. Listen to this idea I had for an ashtray. It's just a regular ashtray, but along the side it says:  

"I'm dead without my coughing in the morning."

That's pretty funny, right? If you know anything about ceramics, hit me up.

IS THIS POEM BAD OR GREAT?

i feel hesitance
for the present tense
the past passed past
too fast
and the future
is a computer