Ode to Piss

Oh, Urine, so warm and sweet,

You live in my bladder, your safe retreat,

Until the day when you’re released

Into the bowl until the tinkling is ceased.

My precious Pee,

You flow so free.

You spill forth from my insides,

Strong then soft like the ocean’s moving tides.

A fragrance so disgusting wafts from you

It’s always a shock, like something new.

I know I’m never alone,

For when I’m down, you’re all my own.

Your yellow-color is like the sun,

It makes me smile until I am done.

I must finish these lines soon

For I’ve held it since half past noon.

So now I leave to feel that bliss

And leave you with this ode to piss.


For some reason I have not felt very creative since my last post. Because of this, I decided to rummage through the archives. These archives are even older than where I fetched that strange short story from. As I was digging through my Facebook notes (if you ever want to know more about someone and how they were about 4 years ago and their pictures just aren’t doing it for you, stalk their Facebook notes), I found several old poems, intros to stories, and those copy-and-paste quizzes that most people not only do on their statuses. My search for the perfect throwback piece to share, called “Ode to Piss.”

This poem was created my sophomore year of high school, when my English class was studying Oedipus Rex (the trilogy thing about the guy who kills his father and marries his mother). Our teacher, Mr. Nored (if I remember correctly, he was unable to see the color red, so we made the no red joke all the time), commented that “’Oedipus’ is pronounced ‘edipus.’” Nored also said that if you pronounce Oedipus the way it looks, it sounds like “Ode to Piss, you know, the poem.”

Well, my friends Sam and Bridget, as well as myself, hadn’t heard of that poem, so Sam proceeded to dare me to write an “Ode to Piss.”

This poem received vast approval from my family, so I have decided to resurrect it once again in the form of a blog post. My super lazy day and lack of creativity may or may not be playing a part in this decision as well.

On a different note, I have researched other Odes to Piss, and found quite a few poems, including this one: “Ode to Piss,” which puts my 5-year-old creation to shame.



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