The Marriage Poems of Tamp Bombadil

Tamp Bombadil is an amazing and agoraphobic friend of mine.  She is hungry for life and has an abundant afterbirth of knowledge regarding past life experiences to share.  In the following poems, she addresses a number of somber issues regarding marriage.  She has agreed due to force to allow these poems to be displayed here.  I hope you will thank me for my courage in bringing her heartsong/truth to this forum in order that we all might stand in it, moistly.

THE MARRIAGE POEMS OF TAMP BOMBADIL by Tamp Bombadil copyright 2011


A Children's Poem by Tamp Bombadil

Eat a good breakfast,
Good Jim Genital.
Eat six eggs today.

Good Jim Genital,
Today is your day.
Today you will wed a large mare.


Your Inevitable Demise by Tamp Bombadil

Old Jim Genital
slapped his wife,
the mare he married on Monday.

He denied paternity
of her Sunday colt,
the son he fathered last Christmas.

Old Jim Genital,
you skinny prick
with the balls all danglin' down-o

no one enjoys your misogyny
and your dead-beat dad
shananigans.

Old Jim Genital
died last night.
He choked on his own
anus.

The Woman Poems of Tamp Bombadil

The following is a collection of poetry celebrating womanhood by the great and reclusive poet Tamp Bombadil.  I met Tamp, a lumbering and inappropriate clown, during a very bright time in my life but in a very dark place.  She hopes that her poetry will help others to either enjoy being a woman or to appreciate others who are engrossed in the work of being women.  Tamp is an inspiration to me.  I hope you will thank me for bringing her poetry to this forum.

THE WOMAN POEMS OF TAMP BOMBADIL by Tamp Bombadil copyright 2011

Huddled Snatches by Tamp Bombadil

The fragrant vulva
of tomorrow
lies crumpled in a heap
on the doorstep of dejection.

I alone
witness her
immigrant hope.

Take my hand!

Scents of iron, sweat, douche
penetrate the culture
of our shared
disillusionment.

We walk.

Syncranized steps
one by one
staggering fro

I must support
her weight -
this 180 pound vulva
hopelessly,
bonelessly
plopping down the street.

She tosses foreign idioms
like hay pennies
to the horrified orphans
of the scientific revolution.

I translate her
urgent beseachment
to pacify the anxious beggars:

Sometimes some air
gets trapped in the vagina
and escapes later
reverberating through the labia
boisterously.

Be not afraid!
Though it seems like I poot,
the air which escapes me
is fragrant.

The smell of feminized air
fills our hearts and noses.
We embrace a breezy baptism
of fishy self-determination.


The Odor of Salvation by Tamp Bombadil

I am a strong woman.
My ass smells like a pig truck.
My house is weird shaped
and it smells like a pig truck.

I see lots of money
and fat white asses in my future
and they smell like a pig truck.

I am a strong woman
with many delicate, fragrant friends
each a flower with large nipples -
nipples that smell like a pig truck.

Jesus died for our sins
although this cannot be verified
And he smells...like hope.


Breastfast by Tamp Bombadil

I am a woman
Breasts of largeness
Breasts of pancake batter
thin, heavy dollops
dripping forth


Proud of my Body by Tamp Bombadil

I am proud of my body
leaking fluids
like some sugary package.

Investigate, won't you?
What is this drip?
Who is this package?

It is I
the Candy Penis
vomiting forth.


Conception by Tamp Bombadil

Cocaine
on the table
Tongues
in one anothers' mouth
Our relationship
in a good place
to conceive the Dark Priestess

My womb awaits
your genetic contribution

Energetically
we stuff
your limp penis
past hamburger folds
of labia
into my dry, bumpy
abyss

Revolution No. 1: Freedom from that which Contains

The dissonant clatter of oppression
is muted today -
Pregnantly replaced
by the musical sound
of my urine hitting the water

It is free
from the tyranny of my bladder
its feudal rule
and its deafening political anthems

Today, my urine lives free
in a watery blue world
Free
to pursue its loftiest aspirations:

lawyer
priest
CNA

journalist
prison guard
pirate

It is alive with the jazz
of a first menstruation

the power ballad
of a sexual debut
with a clown

and the gospel
of an Easter morning
abortion

Dance free ye urine of great emmancipation!
and move to the rhythm
of your destiny