write a really bad poem

[blp]

Just bash one out. Don't think about it too much. I'll start.

****

Oh my love, how I have burned for you
you who I know are waiting could it be
around this very next corner, waiting
for the vision we both yearn so to see

Come on a magic ocean of joy, my love
Let us be united in a kiss of pure bliss
For we have spent our lives waiting only
waiting and now it has come at last to this!

****

:blush: :blush: :blush:

Come on. Don't be shy! Embarrass yourselves!

[PrinceMyshkin]

Between the scramble
in your mind and the slop
in mine we could assemble us
a stew of an unusual kind.

[white camellia]

You stroke my face gently,
my flaming cheeks,
and felt it a rampant fever.
But it's not, my love-I know
your hands exposed too long
in the frost-biting air.
Then you slipped your
fingers down my lips,
the parching texture,
and smelt thirst acrid and bitter.
But it's not, oh my love-lo,
swiftly it mellowed with drips
through your misty eyes,
hued to the joyful color
of a white rose-
It's been years.

[firefangled]

When rain fell
like your tears,
but you slipped
on the floor and
like my heart
you broke,
but it was your butt.

[motherhubbard]

In a glance I catch you there
strutting across the room
looking like a banny rooster
flexing your muscle
and checking your reflection.
You turn my stomach
If you were only half
the superman you imagine
the world would be a better place

[ampoule]

Take me, I'm yours,
behind those closed doors,
but first the hors d'oeuvres,
will settle our nerves,
or maybe some drinks,
I hope they won't jinx
This lovin' feelin',
This sexual healin',
Can you feel the love tonight
If it's not wrong, it must be right!

[SleepyWitch]

funny idea, blp. .. hum, all my poems are really bad...


Take me, I'm yours,
behind those closed doors,
hahahhaha, that's hilarious! i can do cheap rhymes on end... will try it later

meanwhile:

oh you cold-blooded robot
whenever we met
our gaze locked in an
intergalactic paroxysm
of forbidden passion
how could you forget
our amore in the
beachside changing room?
Don't look at me like this,
how can it be wrong,
when it feels so right.
Oh sole mio,
you were my sun,
my moon, my stars,
without you I'm a nova.

cheap rhymes galore, shivering shocks style


Depart we must
My boy, my toy,
my source of joy,
my bean of soy,
my oaty meal!
If I could tell you
how I feel.
You child of parents,
woe-begotten!
The ticking clocks,
the smelly socks,
the fungus green and rotten
sits upon the mantelpiece
as we take our desperate leaves.
To leave! To part!
The poisoned dart
has pierced my heart.
There is no art
that can restore
what we have lost,
depart we must.
The chilly gust,
the age-old rust,
blow us apart.
Adieu, Good-bye!
**********************************
Ode to Spock
Oh Spock, you living rock,
your shining lock,
you strapping jock,
so full of mock.
You sexy half-breed,
spread your seed!
Now chimes the clock,
now crows the c*ck,
to dig your grave.
You were so brave.
Your moss-green blood
now stains the mud
and seeps unstopping earthward.
Not quite yet dead,
your raise your head.
Your ears, so pointy in their prime,
now droop amidst the crawling slime.
How well-groomed was your rooster*,
that emerald love-booster!
Oh Spock, as solid as a rock,
no key could break your lock.
I long, I yearn, I pine to dock
my ship upon your coast.
This is a toast,
to you.
My Spock!

* sorry i just had to do this, after the obscenity filter mangled the poor innocent bird that rhymes with clock


********************

after the climax comes pleasure
and after the pleasure comes rest,
in your arms, safe from harms
out of the way
across the bay,
I count my sheep my gains.

[ampoule]

Haul me away to the poets time out room but I kinda like those Sleepy. ;) :D

[Riesa]

:p



When I look at the stars,
My heart pounds like a hammer,
The moon circles remind me of
A whirlpool’s swirl.

My head spins, I’m dizzy,
As my heart begins to wish
to drown in the whirlpool of your love,
Where we will meet at the bottom of the sea
And having died no one can ever tear us asunder.
There you’ll be, for eternity
Haunting the deep blue with me.

[PrinceMyshkin]

Take me, I'm yours,
behind those closed doors,
but first the hors d'oeuvres,
will settle our nerves,
or maybe some drinks,
I hope they won't jinx
This lovin' feelin',
This sexual healin',
Can you feel the love tonight
If it's not wrong, it must be right!

Could be worse!


You stroke my face gently,
my flaming cheeks,
and felt it a rampant fever.
But it's not, my love-I know
your hands exposed too long
in the frost-biting air.
Then you slipped your
fingers down my lips,
the parching texture,
and smelt thirst acrid and bitter.
But it's not, oh my love-lo,
swiftly it mellowed with drips
through your misty eyes,
hued to the joyful color
of a white rose-
It's been years.

Hm, the challenge was to write a BAD poem! I'm sorry to say, you failed!

[SleepyWitch]

Hm, the challenge was to write a BAD poem! I'm sorry to say, you failed!

yes, I agree, I rather liked white camellia's poem, too!

here's another one. somebody stop me please, I think I can churn out bad poems in bulk!

shut out this cruel sun
whose rays would squint your eyes.
make caries the gnawing tooth of time
that claws at my commander's
corrugated curly strands,
the bleached gold and silver ore,
my constant copper angel.
preserve in frosted bubble-wrap,
my darling dimpled duckling.


************************************

roses are not red enough
nor lemons green
to phrase the wall of glass you built
between your heart and mine.
Nor can all the penguins in paradise
sing the soft shutting of the freezer door
made by your gap-toothed smile.
When I'm the emperor's dachshund
I'll pass a Lautgesetz, a Grimm's Law,
to wrap you up in hornet's furs
and shout with mournful joy:
"There's beauty in rejection!"


Haul me away to the poets time out room but I kinda like those Sleepy. ;) :D

time out room? you mean the one with the nice padded walls and the comfy jackets? :D

[Granny5]

It's embarrassing, but these are better than my "good" ones!
What a life.............

[Pendragon]

WASHINGTON

Washington, the Father of our Country,
Was never a father! So, you see,
Experts at things they never did
Have been around for a long time, kid!

[SleepyWitch]

weeeiirrd, I think I've had too much Coke, I'm on a bad poem rampage :sick:

. here's yet another one, but i'll shut up after that :)

the rocky desert, sandy road
of your quirkless brush-clean face
stops my engine in the stalls.
your pine-honey lizard reptile eyes
draw a line of chalk in the air
a ready smile says "No"
And if I asked you to flog me
would you bring the ol' cat along?
As a symbol of friendship,
a token of trust.
Would you ask why I want it
or understand and silently carry on?

[firefangled]

Today I can see
where, in the sand,
you were lying yesterday,
while I heard the tide,
as you said, I love you,
creeping in, and as I dreamed
you left me, the waves
had leveled the white sand,
except where you were lying.

[SleepyWitch]

Today I can see
where, in the sand,
you were lying yesterday,
while I heard the tide,
as you said, I love you,
creeping in, and as I dreamed
you left me, the waves
had leveled the white sand,
except where you were lying.

hey fire, that's not bad!

[PrinceMyshkin]

Bad poem! Never will behave
but insists on rampaging all over
the page, an image from here,
a cliche from over there
some lines rhyme
some just chime
tin-pan-alley like!
Bad, bad poem!
Like a bent-wheel bike
skittering everywhere. I think it would be best
if I put you, immediately, to rest!

[AimusSage]

What I write today
I do so the wrong way
because I lack all sense
misunderstanding the suspense
That comes with writing stuff
It's all a lot of bluff
Because I can't properly rhyme
Stretching a sentence, time
and a again it goes wrong.
I always try to write a song.
With a nice rhythm and flow.
Turns out it's more like a woe
to those that listen to the music
And get horribly sick.

[blp]

Haul me away to the poets time out room but I kinda like those Sleepy. ;) :D

Often happens when you try to write really badly!


yes, I agree, I rather liked white camellia's poem, too!

here's another one. somebody stop me please, I think I can churn out bad poems in bulk!


Keep 'em coming!



roses are not red enough
nor lemons green
to phrase the wall of glass you built
between your heart and mine.
Nor can all the penguins in paradise
sing the soft shutting of the freezer door
made by your gap-toothed smile.
When I'm the emperor's dachshund
I'll pass a Lautgesetz, a Grimm's Law,
to wrap you up in hornet's furs
and shout with mournful joy:
"There's beauty in rejection!"

Sorry, but this is genius. 1 out of 10 for badness. 1/2 even. 'All the penguins in paradise / sing the soft shutting of the freezer door / made by your gap-toothed smile'. What's not to like?


WASHINGTON

Washington, the Father of our Country,
Was never a father! So, you see,
Experts at things they never did
Have been around for a long time, kid!

Again, I'm sorry, but it's simply not bad. OK, I'm going to give up pointing this out now.


:p



When I look at the stars,
My heart pounds like a hammer,
The moon circles remind me of
A whirlpool’s swirl.

My head spins, I’m dizzy,
As my heart begins to wish
to drown in the whirlpool of your love,
Where we will meet at the bottom of the sea
And having died no one can ever tear us asunder.
There you’ll be, for eternity
Haunting the deep blue with me.

Now this is what I call bad. Study and learn, all you quality compulsives.

[Granny5]

Young motherhubbard
Went to her cupboards
And took off all the doors
She sanded them down and
Painted them cream and
Put them back on again
Now when Motherhubbard
Goes to her cupboards
She sees them pretty and new
Except for bottom ones
Which she forgot to do



I don't think you can get much worse than this:


You take my breath away
Every time you walk in my door
Since the first time I saw you
I just wanted more and more
You set my soul free
To be as I want to be
You set my heart tripping
With each kiss
My mind is a flipping
Now stop you old man
That’s my money you’re tipping
That pretty waitress with

[blp]

Why does the life of a human hurt so?
Why must there be such pain?
Why is there so much we have yet to know?
Why is there snow, draught, hail and rain?

I tremble for the suffering of the world
the longuers, the wounds, the agues, the sorrows.
Oh why oh why are we into this maelstrom hurled?
When will we look forward to painless tomorrows?



I don't think you can get much worse than this:


You take my breath away
Every time you walk in my door
Since the first time I saw you
I just wanted more and more
You set my soul free
To be as I want to be
You set my heart tripping
With each kiss
My mind is a flipping
Now stop you old man
That’s my money you’re tipping
That pretty waitress with

You're right! It sucks beautifully.

[Granny5]

Why does the life of a human hurt so?
Why must there be such pain?
Why is there so much we have yet to know?
Why is there snow, draught, hail and rain?

I tremble for the suffering of the world
the longuers, the wounds, the agues, the sorrows.
Oh why oh why are we into this maelstrom hurled?
When will we look forward to painless tomorrows?



You're right! It sucks beautifully.

Why, thank you blp.

[blp]

Oh how I love to write.
Truly, it is my life. I write
verily, to breathe, to be, in short,
to express the essence of my soul.

[Riesa]

I actually kinda like that one, blp.

My head aches so,
At the thought that you did go,
And never once looked back to here my sighs.

You reached up and plucked the sparkles from my eyes,
With your unshaved chin, and bad boy grin,
My mother tried to tell, me, “child; wait for love, don’t chase it!”
But I wouldn’t listen, no!

so,
Now,
I’m filled with woe.

;) :lol:



Why does the life of a human hurt so?
Why must there be such pain?
Why is there so much we have yet to know?
Why is there snow, draught, hail and rain?

I tremble for the suffering of the world
the longuers, the wounds, the agues, the sorrows.
Oh why oh why are we into this maelstrom hurled?
When will we look forward to painless tomorrows?

:thumbs_up :D

[blp]

I actually kinda like that one, blp.



Which? The one of yours I made an object lesson in badness? :D Sorry.

By the way, congratulations on being the first to use the 'did+verb' past tense construction – surely the hallmark of bad poetry everywhere.

[Riesa]

Which? The one of yours I made an object lesson in badness? Sorry.


:lol: No. Of that I was quite proud! :p these are so much fun, great idea, blp.


this is what I kinda like:


Oh how I love to write.
Truly, it is my life. I write
verily, to breathe, to be, in short,
to express the essence of my soul.

I agree, SleepyWitch's poems are outrageous! very funny and creative. I'm loving them.

[AimusSage]

Robot Poetry

Designation 43951 dash 7.
The seventh revision
Out of a million bugs
only a gazzilion left.
I am 43951 dash 7
And have a blue screen of death.
Do you want to report me?

[Riesa]

I sit and watch the stream trickle by me,
Comforted by the glare of the roses
Floating like strumpets down a dark alley,
Selling their wares, to all the unaware. The red
Of the roses singes my soul with warmth,
I melt remembering how I once was young
And fresh as a daisy, like the roses.
The wet roses that drift so, are unaware of the danger lurking
Just down the bend, perhaps a waterfall, or a dinosaur hole,
Will suck them in, or maybe a trout, will decide to eat one.

Just like life.

[SleepyWitch]

Young motherhubbard
Went to her cupboards
And took off all the doors
She sanded them down and
Painted them cream and
Put them back on again
Now when Motherhubbard
Goes to her cupboards
She sees them pretty and new
Except for bottom ones
Which she forgot to do


hahahahahahaha, that's so hysterical :lol:


I actually kinda like that one, blp.

My head aches so,
At the thought that you did go,
And never once looked back to here my sighs.

You reached up and plucked the sparkles from my eyes,
With your unshaved chin, and bad boy grin,
My mother tried to tell, me, “child; wait for love, don’t chase it!”
But I wouldn’t listen, no!

so,
Now,
I’m filled with woe.

;) :lol:




:thumbs_up :D

:lol: if I read one more poem like this I'll become hyperactive




Sorry, but this is genius. 1 out of 10 for badness. 1/2 even. 'All the penguins in paradise / sing the soft shutting of the freezer door / made by your gap-toothed smile'. What's not to like?

praise from the master himself :blush: I'll be insufferable pleased with myself for the rest of my life!
by the way, what do you think of my Ode to Spock? doesn't it deserve 10 out of 10 points for tacky rhymes?

[AimusSage]

Bah, all of you are doing quite poorly in terms of bad poetry :p

[blp]

by the way, what do you think of my Ode to Spock? doesn't it deserve 10 out of 10 points for tacky rhymes?

Yup.

Spock
Rocked




Bah, all of you are doing quite poorly in terms of bad poetry

Ha, you're one to talk. :p



The innocence of a child
move our hearts in ways beyond our ken,
the guilelessness of the little infant's ways
the brightness of the infant's eyes
Oh, child, how you send light out into the world
without even knowing what you do!
Whether reacting to a puppet
or enjoying the sweet flesh of a fruit,
your radiant smile is a divine joy
for all to behold!

[firefangled]

I picked this morning morning's onion, round
Bulb of halitosis, growing-great-green stalked white
And blooming
From the rich and fertile all around it sandy loam, and looming
Tall there, how it will upon my eyes wreak holy hell
When I peel it! and tears will blur my sight,
As when hearts break for love hard won then lost: the pain and
Glooming
Shadow the dear cost. My eggs then waiting,
Tasty the fare, — the omelet, the folding of the chopped root.

Fluff, shinning and butter, oh parsley, cilantro, fragrant mist, here
Savor! and the praise that breaks from deep within to utter, mmmm,
and so lovelier that cereal, but ah! cholesterol.

No matter for it, oatmeal makes breakfast boring;
Fill me golden orbs of death, cook it, Dora,
Lay me down satisfied, and eternally snoring.

[PrinceMyshkin]

I picked this morning morning's onion, round
Bulb of halitosis, growing-great-green stalked white
And blooming
From the rich and fertile all around it sandy loam, and looming
Tall there, how it will upon my eyes wreak holy hell
When I peel it! and tears will blur my sight,
As when hearts break for love hard won then lost: the pain and
Glooming
Shadow the dear cost. My eggs then waiting,
Tasty the fare, — the omelet, the folding of the chopped root.

Fluff, shinning and butter, oh parsley, cilantro, fragrant mist, here
Savor! and the praise that breaks from deep within to utter, mmmm,
and so lovelier that cereal, but ah! cholesterol.

No matter for it, oatmeal makes breakfast boring;
Fill me golden orbs of death, cook it, Dora,
Lay me down satisfied, and eternally snoring.

Yup, it's bad all right - almost as bad as Gerard Manley Hopkins!

[firefangled]

Yup, it's bad all right - almost as bad as Gerard Manley Hopkins!

That would be Mr. Hopkins's or Hopkins'...I always am confused on that one.

I thought if I went in the direction of spinging, sprunging rhythm, I would do all right in this category. Next I'll try OJ Randall, who didst fettle with the great gray Vegas dude for his bright and battering scandal.

[PrinceMyshkin]

That would be Mr. Hopkins's or Hopkins'...I always am confused on that one.


Would you believe, that very question is next on my list after "Why do the wicked prosper?"

[SleepyWitch]

I picked this morning morning's onion, round
Bulb of halitosis, growing-great-green stalked white
And blooming
From the rich and fertile all around it sandy loam, and looming
Tall there, how it will upon my eyes wreak holy hell
When I peel it! and tears will blur my sight,
As when hearts break for love hard won then lost: the pain and
Glooming
Shadow the dear cost. My eggs then waiting,
Tasty the fare, — the omelet, the folding of the chopped root.

Fluff, shinning and butter, oh parsley, cilantro, fragrant mist, here
Savor! and the praise that breaks from deep within to utter, mmmm,
and so lovelier that cereal, but ah! cholesterol.

No matter for it, oatmeal makes breakfast boring;
Fill me golden orbs of death, cook it, Dora,
Lay me down satisfied, and eternally snoring.

you've made my day!

this is the funniest thread ever!

edit: another breathtaking epic:

Row, sailor, towards the distant shore,
the holy core of Christendom.
The fury waves lap at your face,
you'll surely sink without a trace,
and choking on the salty brine,
for your homeland you will pine,
unless God's steady hand
puts you safely on firm land.
In many a battle thou didst quench
the lecherous Musilman and
slay the gory Hun.
Row, sailor, flee the setting sun!
Bend her creaking bow towards the lee,
where Albion's sacred cliffs you see!

[blp]

edit: another breathtaking epic:

Row, sailor, towards the distant shore,
the holy core of Christendom.
The fury waves lap at your face,
you'll surely sink without a trace,
and choking on the salty brine,
for your homeland you will pine,
unless God's steady hand
puts you safely on firm land.
In many a battle thou didst quench
the lecherous Musilman and
slay the gory Hun.
Row, sailor, flee the setting sun!
Bend her creaking bow towards the lee,
where Albion's sacred cliffs you see!

Shockingly bad! Well done!

[SleepyWitch]

:)
here's one more:

one night-defying summer day
we did frolic, kiss and play
in a barn-loft full of hay
red as Swedish oxen-blood
on the prairie the barn stood,
smelling faintly of old musk
on the prairie, fell and dusk.
But then came war
with blood and gore.
War came from an island far away
and called my hero to the fray.
And my lusty boisterous stud
was nipped in his youthful bud.
Oh grief and woe,
who mourns for Bill,
now I've got Joe?

[Mesalithasamut]

Threads like this one discourage amateur poets from writing poetry in the first place. When people come together in an effort to write horrible poetry as a mockery, I'm assuming, of those who do not know how to write well, and use poetry as a simple means to translate their feelings into words, that's simply careless.

[SleepyWitch]

aw, come on, loosen up Mesalith, it's great fun! plus it set free some creative engergies and lead to all of us writing good poems along with the bad ones.
I can assure you everyone here is extremely supportive of amateur poets (we're most of us amateurs ourselves!)

[Mesalithasamut]

aw, come on, loosen up Mesalith, it's great fun! plus it set free some creative engergies and lead to all of us writing good poems along with the bad ones.
I can assure you everyone here is extremely supportive of amateur poets (we're most of us amateurs ourselves!) I'm an amateur, and I didn't feel greatly discouraged, but it seems to me that a person who is younger could intrepret this as a mockery, and find it very discouraging: Mainly because the poetry they write is similar to the bad poetry you are writing. I say this because, as I assume most of you know, a lot of very young people visit this site. Sorry for being a kill-joy.

[ampoule]

I'm an amateur, and I didn't feel greatly discouraged, but it seems to me that a person who is younger could intrepret this as a mockery, and find it very discouraging: Mainly because the poetry they write is similar to the bad poetry you are writing. I say this because, as I assume most of you know, a lot of very young people visit this site. Sorry for being a kill-joy.

You are not a kill-joy but someone wonderfully sensitive. Sleepy is correct though. Many of the poems entered as 'bad' were thought to be good by others. Don't give up, ever.
Today though, I have almost posted several poems but everytime I read them over, to check for mistakes, I start laughing, reading them with Prince's eyes, remembering some of his funny but loving (I hope) comments.

[SleepyWitch]

yeah, you're right, ampoule, Mesalith is very sensitive.

anyway, I'm thinking of sending "Ode to Spock" to Leonard Nimoy (the Spock actor) for his amusement (explaining it was intended to be really bad). probably he doesn't read his fanmail himself anyway. do you think it's worth a try, anyway? :)

[blp]

Threads like this one discourage amateur poets from writing poetry in the first place. When people come together in an effort to write horrible poetry as a mockery, I'm assuming, of those who do not know how to write well, and use poetry as a simple means to translate their feelings into words, that's simply careless.

You have a point, Mesalithasamut and I did think about it before I created the thread. Not saying I entirely satisfied myself that the risk you suggest was non-existent, just that the potential benefits seemed to me to outweigh the harm. Primary among these, as Sleepy suggests, is it's very freeing for poets of every ability to try to write badly. I'd hazard there's a bad poet inside most of us and keeping it contained can be an effort. And as Blake said, 'If the fool would persist in his folly, he would become wise.'


yeah, you're right, ampoule, Mesalith is very sensitive.

anyway, I'm thinking of sending "Ode to Spock" to Leonard Nimoy (the Spock actor) for his amusement (explaining it was intended to be really bad). probably he doesn't read his fanmail himself anyway. do you think it's worth a try, anyway? :)

Yeah, do it.

[ampoule]

yeah, you're right, ampoule, Mesalith is very sensitive.

anyway, I'm thinking of sending "Ode to Spock" to Leonard Nimoy (the Spock actor) for his amusement (explaining it was intended to be really bad). probably he doesn't read his fanmail himself anyway. do you think it's worth a try, anyway? :)

But mind you, I said 'wonderfully sensitive', so it's a good thing. :)

Mr. Nimoy may be very touched by your poem. He, in fact, has written poetry. In 2002, A Lifetime of Love: Poems on the Passage of Life was published. Go for it!

[firefangled]

Would you believe, that very question is next on my list after "Why do the wicked prosper?"


It is a tautology. The wicked prosper because they are wicked. Golly! Jerry, everyone knows that one.

[SleepyWitch]

Yeah, do it.

it's printed out and I've written him a short letter:) now all I need is an international reply coupon. I'll let you know IF he ever replies :)

[blp]

Maybe you should include the image from your signature too. :D

[Pendragon]

WASHINGTON

Washington, the Father of our Country,
Was never a father! So, you see,
Experts at things they never did
Have been around for a long time, kid!

The weird part is this actually got published somewhere, I forget just where. It's a Clerihew, a four-line poem about a famous person, in which you make joking remarks.

I did this one following the big O.J. Simpson verdict:

O.J. Simpson, O.J. Simpson—
Just did or didn’t you do it, son?
Don’t seem to matter now, either way.
You were found “Not Guilty” the other day…

[Pensive]

Out of my sight please
Put away these books
Don't want to see these
In any corner, in any nook

The bones of contention
Reason of every evil in this world
Having words which slap you

Put away these books
Who can like these looks?
The haunting looks which
The title cover gives?

I am through with their tricks!

Don't tell me my poem doesn't qualify as the worst poem ever! :p

[Ludmila607]

I am trying to make a rhyme
to get through all this
and I ONLY HAVE ONE HAND
not the right one
so I can not write
cause I AM NOT left
and it makes me sad
to know I CANT
never hold anyone
in my arms
(cause I dont have arm)
and I AM AFRAID
I m only a freak
who try to make others feel
as ridiculous as I am.
:D

[Riesa]

On the subject of Sensitivity, let it be,
Only thou should'st knowest
It is I, I mock,
not thee.

except for a few random mistakes most beginning poets make, and a spelling error hear or their. :p all in all this has been freeing, as has been said above.

[blp]

The weird part is this actually got published somewhere, I forget just where. It's a Clerihew, a four-line poem about a famous person, in which you make joking remarks.


Sounds like a cue for a clerihew thread to me. Go on, Pen. You know you want to. ;)

[AimusSage]

I spel mitsake not like you
In poerty I exel
When peel from nose some snot
We al loves to yel
My bad poerty suck
And exel at write poerty

[blazeofglory]

Just bash one out. Don't think about it too much. I'll start.

****

Oh my love, how I have burned for you
you who I know are waiting could it be
around this very next corner, waiting
for the vision we both yearn so to see

Come on a magic ocean of joy, my love
Let us be united in a kiss of pure bliss
For we have spent our lives waiting only
waiting and now it has come at last to this!

****

:blush: :blush: :blush:

Come on. Don't be shy! Embarrass yourselves!

In fact, no poem is a bad poem and poems come from the heart and they can not be bad at all. For heart is where life is nestled and in fact what heart comes upon is not a thing of flaws.

I like your poem and particularly these lines deepen our feelings.

Let us be united in a kiss of pure bliss
For we have spent our lives waiting only
waiting and now it has come at last to this!

These lines have something what life finally arrives at, and every creature have to ultimately, and like plants coming to fruition, and women birthing babies. Who dares to say without a preoccupation these are bad lines?

[autolycus]

look now
white and crusty
upon the unused
smegma

=====

see? that's how you write really bad poetry...

[white camellia]

look now
white and crusty
upon the unused
smegma

=====

see? that's how you write really bad poetry...
Yeah, badly touching.



Bad poetry? Good poetry?
Bad sun? Good sun?
Bad sex? Good sex?
Bad love? Good love?
Bad dove? Good dove?
Bad flower? Good flower?
Bad shower? Good shower?
Bad dew? Good dew?
Bad death? Good death?
Bad morning? Good night!



I spel mitsake not like you
In poerty I exel
When peel from nose some snot
We al loves to yel
My bad poerty suck
And exel at write poerty

poerty is a

mitsake


:D

[symphony]

I must say that writing bad poetry is really easy when u have nothing as inspiration except exams!

On a sultry september saturday

Annoyance came in countless forms—
The sticky heat, mother’s scowls, undecipherable sums…
Or just the street dog strutting too close,
Glasses missing,
Sister hissing,
Or just not having enough money to lose!
And this attempt at putting this vexing day into sentences
Is made, by all these, timeless, priceless…and erm…worthless?

Well, you did say "just bash one out and dont think about it too much" :D

[blp]

Well, you did say "just bash one out and dont think about it too much" :D

Yes. But funnily enough, it's got something, especially near the beginning.



Oh bottle block capital description drunk money dugout belong
'Tis a fine thing whatever it is said before derision intrudes to display
Now for I go not where I know not however many said below baleful blow
Oh Winny, for it is you, yes, and whenever we say it we also feel a tingling
Smash the system, let it go, we are the ones who must rebuild this stinking
crater, this monstrous abyss, this void, vacuum, hollow, bleak hole
And yea, we shall, for we have the fortitude of both mind and spirit
yea, yea, yea, yea, yeah

[ampoule]

Yeah, badly touching.



Bad poetry? Good poetry?
Bad sun? Good sun?
Bad sex? Good sex?
Bad love? Good love?
Bad dove? Good dove?
Bad flower? Good flower?
Bad shower? Good shower?
Bad dew? Good dew?
Bad death? Good death?
Bad morning? Good night!:D

Hold on there missy. I caught you trying to sneak this in as bad poetry. ;) Now maybe if you had added bad breath! :D

Now, here is the baddest! tehe

All For You

I have a million poems for you,
Would you like to hear them,
To know how much you touched me,
That you were much more than a whim?

[blp]

In fact, no poem is a bad poem and poems come from the heart and they can not be bad at all. For heart is where life is nestled and in fact what heart comes upon is not a thing of flaws.

I like your poem and particularly these lines deepen our feelings.

Let us be united in a kiss of pure bliss
For we have spent our lives waiting only
waiting and now it has come at last to this!

These lines have something what life finally arrives at, and every creature have to ultimately, and like plants coming to fruition, and women birthing babies. Who dares to say without a preoccupation these are bad lines?

I don't know what to say, blazeofglory. I think there is such a thing as bad poetry. Isn't there some poetry you prefer reading to other poetry? Might some of those preferences be based on the quality of the poetry rather than just your personal taste?

[drunkenKOALA]

last year this day,
made love
all day
dove rhymes with love


I spel mitsake not like you
In poerty I exel
When peel from nose some snot
We al loves to yel
My bad poerty suck
And exel at write poerty

yes! very bad indeed

[Bartholomew]

The deep dark blackness is dark...
http://farm1.static.flickr.com/89/245063794_5ab866053b.jpg

[blp]

Very apt, Bartholomew, very apt.

[Aiculík]

To my beloved one

Ah! My love why cannout thou see
Just how much I love thee.
I feel so desperate and weak
Because I haven’t seen you for a week.
Without you I’m just a mope
Drowning in tears, so throw me rope
And give my life hope.

********

:blush: it is even worse that I expected... hee hee... but it was fun!

[firefangled]

Are you so very annoyed about Wednesday?
You won’t confine yourself here,
to be exact;
are you earnest at last,
then we must hurry
to arrange your contract.
Everyone’s raving about Wednesday.
I was distinguished inside that day, you know.
I stretched my neck with nervous looks to see,
where I lived was gone,
along with the light from that day,
my clothes are the same and I know
somewhere are my books of select accounting.
Are you aware of this fact about Wednesday?

[white camellia]

To my beloved one

Ah! My love why cannout thou see
Just how much I love thee.
I feel so desperate and weak
Because I haven’t seen you for a week.
Without you I’m just a mope
Drowning in tears, so throw me rope
And give my life hope.

********

:blush: it is even worse that I expected... hee hee... but it was fun!
O, I like it, Aiculík, the intensity and that desparate.

[AimusSage]

Speaking of bad poetry, here's my ode to latex! :p


Latex, oh Latex black!
Thou art the clothes of fetishism
It is because of thee
That a dominatrix can be
So domineering of men
who suffer at thine hand.
Catsuit, Latex gloves.

[Granny5]

Your rod and reel are waiting
The air has cooled way down
The water is clear and inviting
Why don’t you just go fishing?
You’ve worked hard all week
Worries have weighted you down
Now that the week is ending
Why don’t you just go fishing?
Blood pressure needs to be lowered
And tempers need to calm
You need your time for thinking
Why don’t you just go fishing?
Take one of the kids with you
You have a memory to make
I know it all sounds tempting
Why don’t you just go fishing?
The lawn needs a mowing
The gutters could be cleaned
House work will still be waiting
Why don't you just go fishing?


I've finally found something I've good at: Bad Poetry!!!

[firefangled]

Inspired by a Cinquain by Cdn

You fog up my glasses,
Like a walk in Miami
Like the forest in Thailand
Humid after a rain
Like the glass in the shower
Like the car when we make out
You fog up my glasses
Come fog them again.

Come give me a Kleenex
So at least I can see you
If only for a moment
As your lips meet mine
Flick your tongue on my ear lobe
In my hair run your fingers
You can write our initials
Come fog me again


Your rod and reel are waiting
The air has cooled way down
The water is clear and inviting
Why don’t you just go fishing?
You’ve worked hard all week
Worries have weighted you down
Now that the week is ending
Why don’t you just go fishing?
Blood pressure needs to be lowered
And tempers need to calm
You need your time for thinking
Why don’t you just go fishing?
Take one of the kids with you
You have a memory to make
I know it all sounds tempting
Why don’t you just go fishing?
The lawn needs a mowing
The gutters could be cleaned
House work will still be waiting
Why don't you just go fishing?


I've finally found something I've good at: Bad Poetry!!!

Let's see woul I rather clean the guttes or go fly fishing? Hmmm exit stage right! A very good bad poem, Granny.

[blp]

Speaking of bad poetry, here's my ode to latex! :p


Latex, oh Latex black!
Thou art the clothes of fetishism
It is because of thee
That a dominatrix can be
So domineering of men
who suffer at thine hand.
Catsuit, Latex gloves.


This is just wonderfully bad.

[Mortis Anarchy]

Speaking of bad poetry, here's my ode to latex! :p


Latex, oh Latex black!
Thou art the clothes of fetishism
It is because of thee
That a dominatrix can be
So domineering of men
who suffer at thine hand.
Catsuit, Latex gloves.

YES! I love this! Hilariously bad!:thumbs_up :D Isn't weird praising stuff for being bad?! I should introduce this to my teachers.;)

[firefangled]

Granny, I just realized I must have hit the wrong button when I responded to your poem. I didn't mean to let my bad poem get in the way of your bad poem...oh well.

[autolycus]

Are ally
Bad poem?

[Pendragon]

Inspired by a Cinquain by Cdn

You fog up my glasses,
Like a walk in Miami
Like the forest in Thailand
Humid after a rain
Like the glass in the shower
Like the car when we make out
You fog up my glasses
Come fog them again.

Come give me a Kleenex
So at least I can see you
If only for a moment
As your lips meet mine
Flick your tongue on my ear lobe
In my hair run your fingers
You can write our initials
Come fog me again



Let's see woul I rather clean the guttes or go fly fishing? Hmmm exit stage right! A very good bad poem, Granny.Roll Over, John Denver! "Annie's Song" just got bashed in an halarious way!

http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l108/AbsalomKane/Smilies/ROFL.gif

[Granny5]

Roll Over, John Denver! "Annie's Song" just got bashed in an halarious way!

http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l108/AbsalomKane/Smilies/ROFL.gif

Wow, Pen. I didn't catch the Annie's Song. Good eye.

[Granny5]

Inspired by a Cinquain by Cdn

You fog up my glasses,
Like a walk in Miami
Like the forest in Thailand
Humid after a rain
Like the glass in the shower
Like the car when we make out
You fog up my glasses
Come fog them again.

Come give me a Kleenex
So at least I can see you
If only for a moment
As your lips meet mine
Flick your tongue on my ear lobe
In my hair run your fingers
You can write our initials
Come fog me again



Let's see woul I rather clean the guttes or go fly fishing? Hmmm exit stage right! A very good bad poem, Granny.

Now, thanks to Pen, I'll be singing Annie's song with your poem all day!! I love it.:lol:

[Pendragon]

I’m Sorry, John Denver!

It’s cold here in the graveyard,
What did I expect anyway?
That you would come and see me, everyday?
At least there’s lots of company,
And we have fun sometimes—
Ought to see us bowling with Johnny’s skull after midnight…

The other ghosts all ask me about you
And I described you to them the other night,
And they all agreed I was a fool to even be here before my time.
Tried to tell them how much I was hurting,
How I couldn’t sleep at night
They asked me how much sleep I have had since the night I died?

I’m sorry for the way things went down that Friday.
I’m sorry I never tried to talk things out with you.
More that anything else, I’m sorry for myself—
Ever try living in a graveyard with a bunch of ghouls?

Pendragon
© 9/27/07

[Granny5]

John Denver won't mind! Great Pen.

[Aiculík]

O, I like it, Aiculík, the intensity and that desparate.
Thank you, it makes me really proud of my non-talent. :p


And here's another one.

Suffering of a poet

Every time I try to find the ryme
I suddenly feel like a mime
I cannot find rite word
That wouldn’t sound awkward.
And there should be something called a rhythm
But obviosly I’m too dumb
All day long I invent new metaphores
Just to find out some jerk already used them before
I work so hard I really sweat blood
And after that all I get is being scolded
For few inocent typos by some snobbish editor
Who canot understand creativity
So all he can do is behave meanly
To someone as talented as me
Who serve to the godess of beauty
But such jealous mundane people
Cannot possibly be able
To stop the true poet
To make him to be quiet
For everyone knows that poet brings his soul to the altar
And theirfore must forever suffer.

[blazeofglory]

I don't know what to say, blazeofglory. I think there is such a thing as bad poetry. Isn't there some poetry you prefer reading to other poetry? Might some of those preferences be based on the quality of the poetry rather than just your personal taste?

In fact poems come from the very heart and things that come from the heart can not be bad at all. May be critics can be judgmental of them but in fact poems can not be bad. Maybe as far as style is concerned there maybe some differences, some may have an embellished style and others have a coarse one but poems rise above all these externals.

[blazeofglory]

:p



When I look at the stars,
My heart pounds like a hammer,
The moon circles remind me of
A whirlpool’s swirl.

My head spins, I’m dizzy,
As my heart begins to wish
to drown in the whirlpool of your love,
Where we will meet at the bottom of the sea
And having died no one can ever tear us asunder.
There you’ll be, for eternity
Haunting the deep blue with me.

This thread is full of poems and this is the interesting part indeed.

For, poetry comes from the heart,
As such they are bound to be unrefined
There is no air of artificiality,
Like in nature things are coarse.

Poems are expressions more of the unconscious,
The unconscious is coarse and disorderly and jumbled indeed,
And when things come to the conscious layers
It is arranged, systematized, and carved or sculpted.

While the rest of other mediums of expression has more elements of thoughts
Poetry has somethig more of feelings

[Riesa]

My Sponge

My sponge,
how you sponge!
you know how to sponge!

Give you a sink,
you'll sponge it,
a floor,
you'll sponge it too.

the greatest achievement in cleaning,
O' sponge,
was the day,
the soap,
met you.

[Virgil]

My Sponge

My sponge,
how you sponge!
you know how to sponge!

Give you a sink,
you'll sponge it,
a floor,
you'll sponge it too.

the greatest achievement in cleaning,
O' sponge,
was the day,
the soap,
met you.

When I read the title my thoughts went into a different direction. :blush: Now that would have been a really bad poem. :D

I don't why Riesa, but you've been writing a lot of bad poems lately. :p

[Riesa]

Your rod and reel are waiting
The air has cooled way down
The water is clear and inviting
Why don’t you just go fishing?
You’ve worked hard all week
Worries have weighted you down
Now that the week is ending
Why don’t you just go fishing?
Blood pressure needs to be lowered
And tempers need to calm
You need your time for thinking
Why don’t you just go fishing?
Take one of the kids with you
You have a memory to make
I know it all sounds tempting
Why don’t you just go fishing?
The lawn needs a mowing
The gutters could be cleaned
House work will still be waiting
Why don't you just go fishing?


I've finally found something I've good at: Bad Poetry!!!

Granny, I can totally see this hanging in a bathroom, or in an office, oak frame, water-color of man fishing...

[Riesa]

When I read the title my thoughts went into a different direction. :blush: Now that would have been a really bad poem. :D

I don't why Riesa, but you've been writing a lot of bad poems lately. :p


I know..I wondered if anyone might think in a different direction, not surprised it was you. :p


it's fun and doesn't require as much effort to write bad poems. :D You should give it a whirl. I am still writing seriously, somewhere. ;)

[blp]

My Sponge

My sponge,
how you sponge!
you know how to sponge!

Give you a sink,
you'll sponge it,
a floor,
you'll sponge it too.

the greatest achievement in cleaning,
O' sponge,
was the day,
the soap,
met you.

Good, Riesa!

[Il Penseroso]

O pen, you mighty salvager of minds
drain your whirls and flourish
like a sink my pad with dashing signs.
Empty with your singsong voice
flattery of birds that charm with choice
to blip their sounding starlight.


(ahhh, nothing better than to sit at work and write a bad poem)

[Granny5]

Ode to My Laptop


Tonight
The two of us
No interruptions
Nothing intruding
Just me and you
And unspoken words
We will try to express
From deep within
Our feelings
Our hope
Our dreams
And maybe
Tonight
A poem
Will be created

[mazHur]

a fish lost her mind , went swimming in a desert
no sharks were there no whales there to hurt
the night was cool but the day so hot
the poor little fish just burnt into a rot
then came a serpent and a uromastix
and threw the baked little fish into a fix
''all the king's horses and all the kings men''
saw the little fish and left saying Amen.

[jon1jt]

she slobbered all over my
t-shirt. the one that
fit just right.

[Granny5]

she slobbered all over my
t-shirt. the one that
fit just right.


jon, this one is great!:lol:
Hey, it'd make a great tee shirt slogan for a tee that didn't fit.:lol:

[ktd222]

You suck!
I hate you,
I hate you!
I'm so mad I can spit nails!

[mazHur]

A Gabelton fell in a pond
and bumped against an anchovy
there came a lady Tumbuktan
and ate him with Choo-choo gravy
the poor Gabelton melted in the tummy
and started crying ma ma mummy
the clock struck one
that son of a gun
fell down the Adrododoyan
and broke his pen
and Tumbuktan came running after !

[Granny5]

The Heartbreak of Psoriasis

You come to me
In the dark
I just wake up and
There you are
Sneaking up on me
Without a sound
Just showing up
Waiting to be found
I try to lie
Say you won’t stay
But you are here
And here to stay
I locate evidence
Of where you are
I find pieces here
I find pieces there
I scratch my head
And wonder why
What exactly lead
To your return
What did I do
To lure you back
What door did
I forget to lock
There’s no escaping
No denying you are here
There’s evidence of you
Everywhere
My ears, my head,
Upon my breast
To run you off
I’ve done my best
But now I know
Without some aid
I’ll have you with me
Everyday

[firefangled]

The Heartbreak of Psoriasis

You come to me
In the dark
I just wake up and
There you are
Sneaking up on me
Without a sound
Just showing up
Waiting to be found
I try to lie
Say you won’t stay
But you are here
And here to stay
I locate evidence
Of where you are
I find pieces here
I find pieces there
I scratch my head
And wonder why
What exactly lead
To your return
What did I do
To lure you back
What door did
I forget to lock
There’s no escaping
No denying you are here
There’s evidence of you
Everywhere
My ears, my head,
Upon my breast
To run you off
I’ve done my best
But now I know
Without some aid
I’ll have you with me
Everyday

ROTFLMAO!!! You've outdone yourself, Granny. This may be a "bad" poem, but it is hilarious.

A long time ago when I first had some of this, I went to work and at some point showed it to my boss, asking what he thought it was. "Looks like the heartbreak of Psoriasis to me," he said.

Thanks for the laugh, Granny. :lol:

[Pensive]

The Heartbreak of Psoriasis

You come to me
In the dark
I just wake up and
There you are
Sneaking up on me
Without a sound
Just showing up
Waiting to be found
I try to lie
Say you won’t stay
But you are here
And here to stay
I locate evidence
Of where you are
I find pieces here
I find pieces there
I scratch my head
And wonder why
What exactly lead
To your return
What did I do
To lure you back
What door did
I forget to lock
There’s no escaping
No denying you are here
There’s evidence of you
Everywhere
My ears, my head,
Upon my breast
To run you off
I’ve done my best
But now I know
Without some aid
I’ll have you with me
Everyday

:D

This is funny!

[Horsehead]

she always curtsies backwards,
and I never curtsy back,
I tell her I'm a poet,
She tells me I'm a hack

She always takes a shower,
Naked on the roof,
She gets there by the chimney,
And wears my favored suit

Whispering to God,
I saw her sitting on a wall,
Crazed she was, in many ways,
But she will never fall,

She stands upon her chairs,
Pardoning no leg,
I accuse her quisitive
While she kisses the cieling,

She wears her white to funerals,
And comes without invite,
She never leaves with one farewell,
Or goes without a fight,

where have you gone,
among grasses so high,
if I can find you,
will you be mine?

[Horsehead]

X
is the root of evil
cause
XxX=evil...... x is square root evil
or
XXX=evil......x is cube root of evil

[Horsehead]

You suck!
I hate you,
I hate you!
I'm so mad I can spit nails!

I'm so nervouse I can spit nails, cause of chewing on them

[Granny5]

ROTFLMAO!!! You've outdone yourself, Granny. This may be a "bad" poem, but it is hilarious.

A long time ago when I first had some of this, I went to work and at some point showed it to my boss, asking what he thought it was. "Looks like the heartbreak of Psoriasis to me," he said.

Thanks for the laugh, Granny. :lol:

It's a family thing. My one and only lasting inheiratance!:lol: If ya can't laugh, well, why not just laugh! :lol: :lol: :banana:

[scarlet pain]

i laugh
i dance
i go over in
frenzied trance!


you oggle
you desire
the lolly in
my mouth;sapphire!



:D :D :D :p :p

[white camellia]

87 years of living in honor
Death may lay kindly his hands upon her
Her speaking unconsciously in frequency
All about a woman like my grandaunt
Is the fundamentals of life
True as her breath
Real as her fading figure
In the simple and cold room
Beautiful as her movements
Her plain form

[Xillus_Xavier]

The Rambling Mind Of An Insane Fisherman


Do fish get bored?
What an interesting thought!
Do they ever have nightmares about being caught?
Conundrums at play as the bait in my pail,
Wait for their turn for a hook in their tail.

They don't feel pain!
They're only worms!
It makes me feel better to think in those terms.

But are they aware of their ultimate fate?
Mourn for their friend which this catfish just ate?
Scream for their lives when my hand reaches in?
Crawl in the way so to spare next of kin?

STOP IT NOW! I'm thinking too crazy!
Why can't I just simply just fish and be lazy?
Clear out my mind and recast the line
Breathe in the peace and the breeze and the pine.

But Oh No, Wait!
My hooks bait is gone.
Sorry, another worm has to pass on.
But what if this worm here has babies somewhere?
I would be harming a small childs welfare.

OK that's it!
No more live bait!
Break out the fake worms and end this debate.

[schadenfreude]

On a dark and cold night
I thought I saw a light
So I went down the stairs
(hoping to eat some pears)
And behold! On a broken chair
Lay something that gave me a greasy stare.

It was a bad poem! Oh the shame,
the pain! It was so lame!
It made my stomach rumble
And made my apple crumble
The torment, like hell itself will open
to shake out agony, it was soap-en?

Well, I ate my pear, climbed up the stairs
Away from the chair and the poem with the gruesome stare.

[Granny5]

On a dark and cold night
I thought I saw a light
So I went down the stairs
(hoping to eat some pears)
And behold! On a broken chair
Lay something that gave me a greasy stare.

It was a bad poem! Oh the shame,
the pain! It was so lame!
It made my stomach rumble
And made my apple crumble
The torment, like hell itself will open
to shake out agony, it was soap-en?

Well, I ate my pear, climbed up the stairs
Away from the chair and the poem with the gruesome stare.

:lol: How cute!

[SleepyWitch]

Nuremberg Public Transport Inc.
how ghastly do your tram seats stink
of royal blue Polyurethane
the polymer of piss
I'm sure no Alabama bar can boast
as much white trash as you host
on any given single trip
from Nuremberg Süd to City Park.
Where else do you get so many
three-chinned mothers with
four-bellied daughters that
squint at homo sapiens
and openly giggle at every
average carbon-based bi-ped?
Nuremberg Public transport Inc
how tacky do your clients stink
of fast-food grease, hairspray and
ashtrays dissolved in deodorant.
Your human walruss passengers
could make a beauty queen
self-conscious amidst their ugliness.

[SleepyWitch]

and yet another one:


Dear friend, let me congratulate you
on your supreme choice of a wife.
For she is rarely gifted who can
so unselfishly hoist a smile
from an indifferent heart.
I hope she will indulgently
let you perform many a happy copulation
and lie trembling according to her duty
as you chase her ever-receding grail.
Good Sir, I wish you joy of your bride
and may she stay at your side
long enough for you to learn
the value of fond remembrances
to cherish in the shriveled evening of your life.

[motherhubbard]

A little mouse was in my house
But now that sucker’s dead
My husband set a little trap
That snapped him in the head

Some feta cheese or aged cheddar
will do the job quite well
Just set the trap and walk away
And send the rat to hell


Nuremberg Public Transport Inc.
how ghastly do your tram seats stink
of royal blue Polyurethane
the polymer of piss
I'm sure no Alabama bar can boast
as much white trash as you host
on any given single trip
from Nuremberg Süd to City Park.
Where else do you get so many
three-chinned mothers with
four-bellied daughters that
squint at homo sapiens
and openly giggle at every
average carbon-based bi-ped?
Nuremberg Public transport Inc
how tacky do your clients stink
of fast-food grease, hairspray and
ashtrays dissolved in deodorant.
Your human walruss passengers
could make a beauty queen
self-conscious amidst their ugliness.

:D loved it!

[mazHur]

A little mouse was in my house
But now that sucker’s dead
My husband set a little trap
That snapped him in the head

Some feta cheese or aged cheddar
will do the job quite well
Just set the trap and walk away
And send the rat to hell

Hey, that's not a bad poem!
I give you 10/10!

[SleepyWitch]

A little mouse was in my house
But now that sucker’s dead
My husband set a little trap
That snapped him in the head

Some feta cheese or aged cheddar
will do the job quite well
Just set the trap and walk away
And send the rat to hell

heehee, this is so funny :) especially the first stanza

[Granny5]

A little mouse was in my house
But now that sucker’s dead
My husband set a little trap
That snapped him in the head

Some feta cheese or aged cheddar
will do the job quite well
Just set the trap and walk away
And send the rat to hell

:lol:
What a waste of feta! MH, this is soooo bad. Ok, I really find it cute but I promised.

[manny2]

a fluke and a joke
eating subs only
claiming to loose weight

for he was to lazy
to walk a step past his apartment
but only downstairs
to go to the subway!

running around like a prick
acting like a super star
who are you again?

i'm jared the subway guy!
what a joke.



iv met the guy, he really is a prick.. he thinks hes a star its amazing

[Pendragon]

when a poet gets stuck
it sucks
can't find rythum and rhyme.
just killin' time
feelin' bored--
shoot the darn keyboard!
one thing good about the caper--
I ain't wastin' paper...

Pendragon

[blp]

Feed mulch to wet worms watch them wear their widdle worm tums oot

[FacialFracture]

Bad poetry is my favourite kind! I'll contribute:

I was sick on my father when I was three,
We were sitting under a linden tree,
I said I thought I’d swallowed a bee,
And my father cleaned up after me.

I was sick on myself only last year,
I blamed my friend and my friend blamed the beer;
I’m really not sure if my words were clear
When I said “I’m glad my dad’s not here.”

[mazHur]

This is not a bad poem, dude.
Keep it up !

[SleepyWitch]

I'm not sure this is totally bad, but I can't be bothered to spam the forum with a new thread, so I'll post it here :)



This life's a closed-book exam,
except your neighbour scribbles on your sheet
in indelible ink when the boozy invigilator’s
gone to have a smoke
and you end up quoting Madonna
when you meant the Pope

But somehow I seem to have made a vow,
promised you, or myself or the ants
that amid all the

arms-races, after eight mints,
binge drinking, bloodshed, beaches,
Ciceronean orators,
Darfur,
enlightenment thought and emaciation,
fashion, football, French revolution,
Glamour, google, Gaza strip,
hairstyles and hairgels
[unisex-herbal-curl-activating shine]
iguanas,
Jelly Beans,
Krishna, Hare Krishna, Hare Hare,
Hare Krishna
Hare
Krishna Hare
[outside a Birmingham bookshop]
liberals and lullabies and lipsick on a rival’s teeth
[er, you’ve got…. forget it],
moons, music old and new,
nuptials [and divorce parties:
Theseus minus Hippolyta],
oval offices, ora..nges,
predictable! philistine philosophers,
quirks, Quark, quasars,
roadside motels, rendezvous, rendez me,
rendez you, rendez each other for a
sh*g [only one last time, the road will thank us],
tea, transport, Trafalquar Square,
undies, uvular R,
Volkswagen, vernacular, vascular plants,
water crisis,
X, Malcolm
Y, why? Why not? If and but, but why and when and how?
Zemin, your little red book is gathering dust in the attic

I’d still find time to catch a cold.
And as long as there are dusty train stations in summertime
I’ll stay newborn (at four o’clock) in spite of evidence.
I rest my case.
Objection denied.

[mazHur]

a gum is a gum and a gum is a glue
glue touched her nose and gave her flu
then gum and glue went to the zoo
and the flu spread all over and through!

[crazefest456]

a gum is a gum and a gum is a glue
glue touched her nose and gave her flu
then gum and glue went to the zoo
and the flu spread all over and through!

this has pre-apocalyptic undertones....are you sure this is a bad poem?

[mazHur]

in a way you may be right ,,,,,,,,,,

[QuietMurmurings]

The Flowery Monochromat
-------------------------

Roses are blue
Violets are red
YES I AM colorblind
Don't listen to what I said

[Pendragon]

Carroll

Tis the sleaze on 221B Folly,
Faraway beach near Rockaway--
Deck that jerk, he insulted Trolly,
Peanut butter and raspberry jam..

Drown we now our grey Ferrari,
Icy curve boys she got away!
Headed for a Yuletide party,
Don't worry guys, the booze made it OK!

What the blazes is wrong with Aimus?
Fah! Who spiked this bleeding Christmas punch?
Strike three, Robin! Leave the darts to us!
Caviar again? Bleetch! Had it for lunch!

This is a pint? Where'd you learn to measure?
That's it--Sleepy is fired from tending the bar!
Kilted brought Scotch! A family treasure!
Who's that little green guy chasing Kelly over there?

Whoops! There goes Poppy, one down on the table crashes!
I just got that joke man! Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha!
Here comes Granny with her eyes all bright and flashes!
I do, ha, hope she'll, (har!) go easy on (hee) the poor guy!

Awright now, sing: Should auld acquaintance be fergot,
And never brought to mind? ( They don't mind by now, fer sure!)
Shoullld auld ac-hic-quaitence be fore-got
And the days when we wake up and reach for ibuprofen for cures!
(Or plop plop fizz, fizz)

Pendragon

[SleepyWitch]

This is a pint? Where'd you learn to measure?
That's it--Sleepy is fired from tending the bar!


hey! I know how much a pint is! 568 ml! .... well, you could be right about the practical side, though :)
hilarious poem, Uncle Pen

[Pendragon]

hey! I know how much a pint is! 568 ml! .... well, you could be right about the practical side, though :)
hilarious poem, Uncle PenIf you have ever heard Mark Hamil do The Joker's voice on the Animated Batman Series, imagine the poem read in that voice. http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l108/AbsalomKane/Newest/Joker.jpg

[SleepyWitch]

If you have ever heard Mark Hamil do The Joker's voice on the Animated Batman Series, imagine the poem read in that voice. http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l108/AbsalomKane/Newest/Joker.jpg

hey, I know it was a joke :) I was just teasing you :D

[Captain Pike]

Don & me' re
Gay apparel

[AwayAloneAlast]

No! You tempt me too strongly! Here is one of the myriad poems I sent in to the poetry.com scam contest thing. I'm hoping they all get published. I would put the others here, because they're even worse than this, but they're too obscene :D


On a Shingle

In the beginning,
God queried Adam,
"Adam, how wast thou into
This here creation brought?"
Quoth Adam,
"Lord, thou hath shat upon
A shingle, and defecated into
Thy new creation.
Thou came on the Earth,
And from thy seed wast I borne."
To which the Lord replied,
"Thou art true, Adam!"
And all was well and good.


--Art C. Dorkus

[mazHur]

this ain't no bad poem--it's dirty !

[beyondhuman]

here comes a mozzie buzzing round my head
With a whack and a smack,
It will soon be dead,
Then I realise.
I forgot about this,
When i went outside
To take a piss
On the way back
in side the seller
I say a wasp nest.

Im a crap rhymer guys

[SleepyWitch]

Second

Whoever said love can’t be measured?
Count every time he tells you
“Well, they can’t expect you to do that.”,
when there’s no reason why they can’t.
Add to that the precise width and breadth
of every time he doesn’t even need
to swallow his pride because
he left himself at home.
Now weigh how many times you get the girl
while he’s the nice and cuddly uncle
and multiply that by the square root of
the times you turn whoever you talk to
into an audience just by clearing your throat.
Add how often some hanger-on has
painstakingly sifted through the grey
to paint him black and give you your share of white.
Whoever said you can’t measure love got it
wrong
or right,
depending on the reference
of you

[crazefest456]

I did this for no reason...it sucks, alot :)

“The Molting Mask”


Where is she?
I don’t know why,
Because she told me
She’d be here
And I told her
I’d be here,
And we’d be together
Together forever
And ever and ever.

Oh there she is!
Over there!
Watching the emptiness
Of this place
And now she’s turning
Turning and facing
Towards me,
Towards me.

And I just keep watching,
And I just keep looking,
And I just keep seeing,
Her, in this battleground,
Her, in this lost Cause.

Then she sees me
And I see her
And I keep staring
Then we keep staring
At each other,
Towards her
Towards me.

And then she says,
‘I want you to
Do me a favor,
A favor for me
Right now, right here,’
And I say,
‘Anything,
Anything for you my dear,
What is it
I can do,
What you can’t do
Without me?’

And then she says,
Sighing,
Sighing and trying
To find the right words
To not be so abrupt,
She says that
‘You have to kill me,
Kill me and make sure
There’s not a soul
Left in me breathing.
Please do this for me
‘Cause I can’t find no other way,
No other way to stop me.
To make me stop getting,
Out of control
Because I think
There’s something,
Something inside me,
Eating, and taunting and feeling
What I feel.’
And then she stopped,
Waiting, waiting for me to
Say something, do something,
And I did nothing,
Did something and nothing.

I looked at her
And she looked at me
And I saw her
And she saw me
And I saw her looking
Looking at me. And she saw
What I saw looking at her.
Then she started melting,
Disappearing,
Dying, resigning, sighing, solemnly.
She’s dropping to the floor,
Her face dripping down
To nothing, her skin is
Peeling, peeling and chipping,
Out of its original,
Original state.

All the time she was looking,
Looking at me watching her
Watching me watch her, to see what
I am, what I am is what she is
And she sees what I see in her,
And what I see is me,
Looking at me, and she’s in shock
Looking at me in shock
And I see death’s face
Staring at my face, who’s staring
At my face, staring at me.
She’s not, anymore,
And I am her, so
I’m not me—I’m the
Reflection of the death of myself!

[mazHur]

seems you recorded one of your dreams? it gives two impressions:: les. and death! however, both ways it looks fine !

[mazHur]

hark !!! who goes there,
the shark,
whose bite
is worse than his bark.

the fact remains,
when it is dark,
the shark,
as he pulls out his sheath,
discovers he has no teeth,
having to instead hide underneath.

O save the shark,
save the shark,
let us take him to a nice old park.

maybe there he shall find his fin,
amidst a bottle of gin,
that shall be his tonic,
until then he is sub-sonic

I forgot he does not drive,
'cos all he knows,
is how to dive

courtesy, Ghamgeen

[SleepyWitch]

hark !!! who goes there,
the shark,
whose bite
is worse than his bark.

the fact remains,
when it is dark,
the shark,
as he pulls out his sheath,
discovers he has no teeth,
having to instead hide underneath.

O save the shark,
save the shark,
let us take him to a nice old park.

maybe there he shall find his fin,
amidst a bottle of gin,
that shall be his tonic,
until then he is sub-sonic

I forgot he does not drive,
'cos all he knows,
is how to dive

courtesy, Ghamgeen Lalljee

oh my, this is cool. it had me laugh out loud :)
who's Ghamgeen Lalljee

[mazHur]

There was a young man from Kent
Whose wick was exceedingly bent
To save himself trouble
He had it bent double
So instead of coming he went

COURTEY: NR

[Pendragon]

That's not bad, Maz, that BAWDY! :blush:

[mazHur]

thanks,,,but that is a variation of one of my friends utterances !

[Pendragon]

On the evening when I first arrived,
The Doctor sceamed, "Dear God! That Thing is alive!"
Now I watch people faint
Who dare look me in the face--
Never knowing I wear a mirror for a disguise! :p :lol:

[blp]

Stik to it with a bit of a skit
YOu are a twit you bit of kit
Got to be bobbly whatever your poppery crockery
Golly how it glugs up gloppy sloppy jalopies shoppy

[blp]

Same day you say
whatever day It don't matter
look at the clouds and watch them scatter
hoooooray

[blp]

It's going to be OK, Ray,
well, alright not for you,
but even though you can't admit it
I know you feel low about how it was for me
and I can tell you
It's OK!

[blp]

I'm not sure this is totally bad, but I can't be bothered to spam the forum with a new thread, so I'll post it here :)



This life's a closed-book exam,
except your neighbour scribbles on your sheet
in indelible ink when the boozy invigilator’s
gone to have a smoke
and you end up quoting Madonna
when you meant the Pope

But somehow I seem to have made a vow,
promised you, or myself or the ants
that amid all the

arms-races, after eight mints,
binge drinking, bloodshed, beaches,
Ciceronean orators,
Darfur,
enlightenment thought and emaciation,
fashion, football, French revolution,
Glamour, google, Gaza strip,
hairstyles and hairgels
[unisex-herbal-curl-activating shine]
iguanas,
Jelly Beans,
Krishna, Hare Krishna, Hare Hare,
Hare Krishna
Hare
Krishna Hare
[outside a Birmingham bookshop]
liberals and lullabies and lipsick on a rival’s teeth
[er, you’ve got…. forget it],
moons, music old and new,
nuptials [and divorce parties:
Theseus minus Hippolyta],
oval offices, ora..nges,
predictable! philistine philosophers,
quirks, Quark, quasars,
roadside motels, rendezvous, rendez me,
rendez you, rendez each other for a
sh*g [only one last time, the road will thank us],
tea, transport, Trafalquar Square,
undies, uvular R,
Volkswagen, vernacular, vascular plants,
water crisis,
X, Malcolm
Y, why? Why not? If and but, but why and when and how?
Zemin, your little red book is gathering dust in the attic

I’d still find time to catch a cold.
And as long as there are dusty train stations in summertime
I’ll stay newborn (at four o’clock) in spite of evidence.
I rest my case.
Objection denied.

Lots and lots to like here. I especially like 'er, you've got...forget it.'

[blp]

Sure I saw you having it large down the dog last tuesday
You woz with yer old fella and he slobbered on ya proper
all beery and that, he's a messy old prat and I'll tell ya
I was like, na, this bird must have self image issues
being with a half toothless spitting old sack of soak like
this geezer, she doesn't know she's born let alone
built and souped to make a red blooded boy groan

[blp]

spit on the hop gog pop rock shock jock
shappetty shop shop shag shrug lug glug
Go for it! The new car can be yours
You've just got to believe
and get lucky on a spin of the wheel
don't worry, just do what you feel
walk on your hands and wave with your feet
Hi!
Sorry to see you looking so low.

[blp]

As it goes it goes it goes
You wiggle your little bitty toes
and it really shows shows shows
that it never snows

so where is the end oh friend
somewhere around the bend
beyond where a letter will send
beyond your special blend

[blp]

I've never seen anything in any place
for I'm too short too see over the wall!
and no one has ever seen my face
or heard my telephone calls

Here's what they say, each one:
Hi there, petunia, I'm calling about the job
I've heard it's going to be a lot of fun
I heard about it from your cousin Bob.

[blp]

Sunday is a day of rest
so I spend it desperately trying to relax
I can't stop thinking about stocks and shares
unless I OD on Xanax.

[SleepyWitch]

On the evening when I first arrived,
The Doctor sceamed, "Dear God! That Thing is alive!"
Now I watch people faint
Who dare look me in the face--
Never knowing I wear a mirror for a disguise! :p :lol:

hey this is cool, Uncle Pen!

[SleepyWitch]

As it goes it goes it goes
You wiggle your little bitty toes
and it really shows shows shows
that it never snows

so where is the end oh friend
somewhere around the bend
beyond where a letter will send
beyond your special blend

:lol: i'd like to laugh out loud but I'm at the student IT centre and the other students would think I'm crazy :)

[blp]

:lol: i'd like to laugh out loud but I'm at the student IT centre and the other students would think I'm crazy :)

I think you're crazy too. I meant that to be a very serious piece. ;)

[mazHur]

some guys talk big
mock, criticize and laugh at
others, God being no exception
they think they are all-knowledge,
self-born like amoeba
propel their way like paramecium
and will be reborn like earthworms
that there is no heaven or hell
that they are immune from divine
accountability
nonsense!
they live in fool's paradise
know nothing, nothing!
will they tell us if they have
ever seen the teeth of a termite,
the limbs of a snake,
the nose of an ant?

[mazHur]

To Beauty in Chains
mazHur

nothing attracts more
than beauty veiled
beauty when exposed
just loses its charm
farther deep down the skin
it's all filth and crap;
How about then
hiding behind a veil
a burqah, my love?

[blp]

For I am the designated one
he who was indicated by the prophecy
the one who will lead the children of Kaw
Into a land of efficacy

[Oniw17]

This is what it looks like when I try to write a poem in less than an hour
I know what lifes about
I take what it gives, which might be doubt
I wanna take children to visit the pied piper's house
I'm lazy but I don't like to slouch
That's why my back doesn't drown down on the couch
I know of no way called the promised route
All things are like one, but not part of Tao
Or whatever word you have for destiny farther down
Flowing like a river
With beauty glowing like guenhwyvar
Idealism can be like that
It's like The Wall you must fight back
Tear it down just to get your life back
I hate poetry because most of what I write's crap
No figurative meaning I'll up-front use white crack
My metaphors suck like when your hair's in bike hats
My meter's so off but I know some trite facts
I don't like when when I'm bad at stuff so spite that

[Tuninks]

...

There, thats a bad poem, a poem with no words.

[Il Penseroso]

spit on the hop gog pop rock shock jock
shappetty shop shop shag shrug lug glug
Go for it! The new car can be yours
You've just got to believe
and get lucky on a spin of the wheel
don't worry, just do what you feel
walk on your hands and wave with your feet
Hi!
Sorry to see you looking so low.

you're so damn good at these blp

this one made me chuckle out loud

[blp]

you're so damn good at these blp

this one made me chuckle out loud

Thanks, Penser. Means a lot coming from you.

[SleepyWitch]

This is what it looks like when I try to write a poem in less than an hour
I know what lifes about
I take what it gives, which might be doubt
I wanna take children to visit the pied piper's house
I'm lazy but I don't like to slouch
That's why my back doesn't drown down on the couch
I know of no way called the promised route
All things are like one, but not part of Tao
Or whatever word you have for destiny farther down
Flowing like a river
With beauty glowing like guenhwyvar
Idealism can be like that
It's like The Wall you must fight back
Tear it down just to get your life back
I hate poetry because most of what I write's crap
No figurative meaning I'll up-front use white crack
My metaphors suck like when your hair's in bike hats
My meter's so off but I know some trite facts
I don't like when when I'm bad at stuff so spite that

hehe, this sounds like a rap song :thumbs_up

[blp]

Jubert de Schubert
has eaten too much camembert
he has so expanded his girth
he must now wear a skirt

[blp]

Jubert de Schubert
has eaten too much camembert
now he is shaped like a pear
and has nothing to wear

[SleepyWitch]

the poet bee el pee
has eaten too much LSD
now his brain's shaped like a sponge
and his poems come out strongé [to be pronounced with a French accent] :D

[blp]

I seenk you mean 'strahnj', non, Sleepy? Mais oui, for ah am zee expert when it cahms to wrahting in a Fransh acsohn.

[SleepyWitch]

yep, that's exactly what I meant :)

[blp]

C'est vrai que c'est une bon idée
d'essayer de parler en Français
Mais si vous n'avez pas ç'apprené
you has a petit problem.

[blp]

I, lotus, funambulate mit conga loop de doo
so vat if I got nuffing to say
It's my thread and I'll talk if I want to
You got a petit problem wid it
go
just go
Dis party is strickly fer de exclusive set
with no discernment
but a lot of ready cash
fried sandwich anyone?

[SleepyWitch]

Lots and lots to like here. I especially like 'er, you've got...forget it.'

you'll be no doubt intrested to hear that the Hare Krishna man outside Waterstone's (?) in Birmingham got himself a band, probably his cousins from India. Wow, he must have been singing Hare Krishna non stop for 4 years by now, but somehow it's not the same anymore, too Bollywoodish. I'm not even sure it's the same guy, actually, if it weren't for the lyrics.

:D

[blp]

I am interested, yes, though I'm afraid I can't see what that's got to do with the remark of mine you quoted or this thread in general. Perhaps nothing. That would be fine.

[SleepyWitch]

I am interested, yes, though I'm afraid I can't see what that's got to do with the remark of mine you quoted or this thread in general. Perhaps nothing. That would be fine.

hehe, sorry, the Hare Krishna man featured in the poem you made this comment on, but I was too lazy to figure out who do quote all of it (i.e. my original post+ your comment)

[blp]

Laziness is fully in the spirit of this thread. ;)

What does TOS BOYS mean, Sleepy?

It's got to be about belief
This endless road of grief
Where death comes like a thief

And you only get one life
One that is always rife
with cuts that sting like a knife

For all these thoughts of death
I want you to meet my friend Seth
He has a lot left of breath

[Pensive]

Laziness is fully in the spirit of this thread. ;)

What does TOS BOYS mean, Sleepy?

It's got to be about belief
This endless road of grief
Where death comes like a thief

And you only get one life
One that is always rife
with cuts that sting like a knife

For all these thoughts of death
I want you to meet my friend Seth
He has a lot left of breath

:D

This not that bad really. :D

[blp]

:D
This not that bad really. :D

Thanks. Come on, though, some of it is pretty atrocious.

O black leather biker baby
someone told me you've got scabies
at least that's better than rabies.

Don't worry, this one isn't directed at you, Pensive!

[blp]

O stupor of fantasy incarnate
The force of past troubles residue
Why don't you leave?
When I no longer believe?
Why won't your hurting stain
dissolve?

[V.Jayalakshmi]

Dear Members,

Wow!!! Writing a bad poem.
Here I go ,where is my keyboard,
Rhyme with reason,you author or rather E-Author,
Have you noticed?I am growing in lenghth,like a mustache well kept ,
No more space to frow,so here I go thin and I ask you is it not poetry,
At its best,for thoughts trimmed,
Are but thoughts forgotton.
Wow! Wow! here I go,
Shaking my pen at you.

[blp]

Dear Members,

Wow!!! Writing a bad poem.
Here I go ,where is my keyboard,
Rhyme with reason,you author or rather E-Author,
Have you noticed?I am growing in lenghth,like a mustache well kept ,
No more space to frow,so here I go thin and I ask you is it not poetry,
At its best,for thoughts trimmed,
Are but thoughts forgotton.
Wow! Wow! here I go,
Shaking my pen at you.

:D Love the repeated Wows.

[SleepyWitch]

What does TOS BOYS mean, Sleepy?


TOS= the original series= the first Star Trek series :blush: the one that's got Kirk, Spock and McCoy in it.
by the way, I haven't forgotten your PM. will think about your question some more, though.....

heehee, I wish I could think of a really bad poem with lots of cheap rhymes....

there stood a tree upon the heath
and knit its twigs into a wreath,
towards the ground its leaves did seep
and tears of amber did it weep
for all the halcyon days now lost
and without hope away now tossed.
But of the tree's past happiness,
the humble poet must confess,
the reasons are as yet unknown
and cannot presently be shown,
nor what has brought this loss about
can anyone yet reason out.
So must we all depart anon
and leave our poor tree on its own.

:p :p :D

[blp]

there stood a tree upon the heath
and knit its twigs into a wreath,
towards the ground its leaves did seep
and tears of amber did it weep
for all the halcyon days now lost
and without hope away now tossed.
But of the tree's past happiness,
the humble poet must confess,
the reasons are as yet unknown
and cannot presently be shown,
nor what has brought this loss about
can anyone yet reason out.
So must we all depart anon
and leave our poor tree on its own.

:p :p :D


John Skelton would be proud!

It's really really hard to say
what is the purpose of the day
By this I mean, no one's defined
a general mission for mankind
The aim of yesterday was clear
It was, simply, to get us here
Tomrrow's purpose no one does know
But we can put that off until tomorrow
Perhaps that's where we've been going wrong
Leaving our planning for too long
'til it's tomorrow's today and we've got no plan
Except to bewail the temporal predicament of man.
Ugh!

[mazHur]

A Not-So-Rosy Poem
by mazHur

every fruit in the orchard,
every flower in the garden
every man
every woman
everything
has its own distinctive odor
color, feel
but unlike you
nothing stinks so much;
Go take a bath !

[creativity]

buffalo buffalo buffalo
buffalo buffalo
buffalo buffalo buffalo
buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo
buffalo buffalo buffalo
buffalo buffalo
buffalo buffalo buffalo
buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo
buffalo buffalo buffalo
buffalo buffalo
buffalo buffalo buffalo
buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo
buffalo buffalo buffalo
buffalo buffalo!

[blp]

Subtile cellular divisions
were slowly eaten by pigeons
this is OK
It's like that today
Pigeons eat all kinds of ****
and are allowed to just get away with it
no one minds anymore
they just go out to the store
and buy more

[Il Penseroso]

Pimples waddle afore
and soon oil occupies the shore
of a face owned by O'Dor.
Sausage overfill under the skin,
digestion remedied, hazardous waste wears thin
gluttons shouting more more more.

[blp]

I don't understand. It says Il Pensoroso was the last person to post here, but his post isn't here and this is the last page.

[Il Penseroso]

I see my post.

[mazHur]

On the Inauguration of a Vegan faux fastfood outlet in Canada

IT'S CHICKEN THIS TIME
NEXT TIME IT WILL BE GOATS
STILL NEXT IT WILL BE COWS AND PIGS
WILL WE THEN SURVIVE ON GRASS ALONE??

[blp]

I see my post.

Now it's here.

[blp]

So this is reality
One weird undifferentiated mass of grey ooze
I love you goofy fru

[Page Sniffer]

Sorry for the double post, my computer is retarded.

[Page Sniffer]

"Bad, bad, bad dog," she blathered blatheringly,
belittleing my painted paw prints plastered across
her hundred thousand year old antique caveman
coffee table from the Casiopea Caverns in Cairns.
My PHD in paw painting from obedience school in
Paris paid for her bad taste in art for the last time.
I can get better treatment at the pound, so I filed
unflinchingly for a new un-flee bitten owner -- woof.

[white camellia]

So this is reality
One weird undifferentiated mass of grey ooze
I love you goofy fru

I like this, blp.

[blp]

I like this, blp.

Actually, I kind of like it too.

[blp]

"Bad, bad, bad dog," she blathered blatheringly,
belittleing my painted paw prints plastered across
her hundred thousand year old antique caveman
coffee table from the Casiopea Caverns in Cairns.
My PHD in paw painting from obedience school in
Paris paid for her bad taste in art for the last time.
I can get better treatment at the pound, so I filed
unflinchingly for a new un-flee bitten owner -- woof.

I like this too. Very good in fact.

[blp]

Are you so very annoyed about Wednesday?
You won’t confine yourself here,
to be exact;
are you earnest at last,
then we must hurry
to arrange your contract.
Everyone’s raving about Wednesday.
I was distinguished inside that day, you know.
I stretched my neck with nervous looks to see,
where I lived was gone,
along with the light from that day,
my clothes are the same and I know
somewhere are my books of select accounting.
Are you aware of this fact about Wednesday?

This is just so good. Only just noticed it.

[blp]

fellow here
girt your ear
for an epic rhyme
to last for time
and in it's subtle ullulations
I shall relate the peregrinations
of Astragor, the Purple Knight of Albion
Who was the greatest champion
this verdant isle has yet beheld
or smelled

[firefangled]

thanks, blp!

[firefangled]

Father comes home,
sits in a dark sound,
with brown glass —
we swallow
for different reasons.

In school, birds are not
taught. At church,
watching the basket pass;
in the window
men are climbing,
dropping pigeon babies
from gutters.

Father comes home.
Supper stares at me.
Darkness falls, brown
glass does not break…

sleep has wing sounds
follows the tolling bell

[blp]

Father comes home,
sits in a dark sound,
with brown glass —
we swallow
for different reasons.

In school, birds are not
taught. At church,
watching the basket pass;
in the window
men are climbing,
dropping pigeon babies
from gutters.

Father comes home.
Supper stares at me.
Darkness falls, brown
glass does not break…

sleep has wing sounds
follows the tolling bell

OK, this time I think you just forgot you were in the bad poem thread, didn't you?

[firefangled]

OK, this time I think you just forgot you were in the bad poem thread, didn't you?

I only liked the last two lines. The others bothered me enough to call it bad.

[Sarasvati21]

my dog is sleeping
there in the corner

she does not know
what tomorrow holds

nor does she care

my dog is dreaming
there in the corner
of things which are only
to be imagined by us

the dust settles
on the table above her head

still she sleeps

the birds argue
over seed outside

still she sleeps

mothers and fathers yell
at their kids across the street

still she sleeps

forests are burning
somewhere around the world
and somewhere around the world
children are starving

still my dog lies in the corner

sleeping

[blp]

my dog is sleeping
there in the corner

she does not know
what tomorrow holds

nor does she care

my dog is dreaming
there in the corner
of things which are only
to be imagined by us

the dust settles
on the table above her head

still she sleeps

the birds argue
over seed outside

still she sleeps

mothers and fathers yell
at their kids across the street

still she sleeps

forests are burning
somewhere around the world
and somewhere around the world
children are starving

still my dog lies in the corner

sleeping

Another person who doesn't know what thread they're in I think.

[kelby_lake]

This is the computer, that is a bell
For a poem, haven't I done well?

[firefangled]

My friend, the phone,
get's on my nerves...

because it's rude, I say
to them, his many voices,
wanting time in restaurants,
theaters, and late at night

and the way he clears his throat
before he speaks,
like this is Broadway!

[blp]

This is the computer, that is a bell
For a poem, haven't I done well?

Actually, kind of, yeah.

[Sarasvati21]

Another person who doesn't know what thread they're in I think.

Aw, thanks, blp :)

[jikan myshkin]

on my window still there is a plant pot
next to the plant pot there is a pile of dirt that has fallen out of the plant pot
inside the plant pot there is less dirt than outside of the plant pot
maybe i should throw the plant pot away
but it was the last thing she ever bought for me
before she commited suicicde
and now this plant pot
with its dying flower
is all that is left
of the love that blossomed in the april showers

[lucidnightmares]

ask a question and i`ll tell a lie
tell me something and i`ll find a fault
praise life and i`ll want to die
save your money and i`ll rob your vault

i am a prick of the most miserable sorts
i kick puppies, steal from babies
i burp loudly, pull down your shorts
laugh at the animal with rabies

and you, you just stare
eyes glazed in a dumbfound look
you don`t understand, wer`e a pair
i am all those chances you never took....

[Il Penseroso]

Lately the storm cannot break with words
calm necessitated from an unplush seat
of simple survival, plucked remembrance
and sturdy shapes, with magic toes
feeling through the lawn for strands
sliding unpegged from inhibition.

Like glass shadowed from a razor of steel
cool reflection bores pain with marked precision
and years harden to a yard of salt.

[Il Penseroso]

Sunshine blocks a ray
spotted in ancestral lays
broken into human spirit.

[~rose.of.night]

if only i had time
to think up a few rhymes
then i could write a poem
and post it in this forum

i heard a crazy rumor
that this thread had great humor
so i checked it out
to see what it was about

some of these are good
written better than i could
after all that good stuff
is my poem bad enough?

[qimissung]

~rose.of.night
may this not blight
your poetic dreams

the device of a rhyme
used all the time
is vastly over-rated!

To answer your question: yes-and no...:)...and welcome to the forum!

[qimissung]

lucidnightmares, sarasvati, and firefangled, yours are actually pretty good (I've seen firfangled's elsewhere recently; Jikan and Il Penseroso, yours sink to new heights of badness! I mean that in the best possible way!! :)

Here's my modest contribution:


Alone in Darkness

the night falls with a silent sigh, cold and alone are we.
the emotion for which you sacrifice yourself
flares once, then dies,
swept away by the abyss.
all hope must fail.

your soul thrives no more.
how could you abandon me?
spirits surround us, crying,
We are Fallen.

[NickLinsky]

It was a dark and stormy night
And the dogs were howling at the full moon
Even though we couldn't see it because of the storm
And the dark.
I meant we couldn't see the moon, not the dogs.

Howl!!!!!
Howl!!!!!
Howl!!!!

HOWL!!!!
HOWL!!!
HOWL!!!

[white camellia]

To love or be loved,
which is truer?

[SleepyWitch]

I woke up with September mist
trapped under my sleeves
and the coffee said I should have
dreamt of you
going on a train
tiny golden specks afloat
eyes... sun... hair
"I like it when you nick my pencils"

get on


get off
you leave when I arrive
and the heating goes
tsk tk tk bfoorf bllrrrrr

[blp]

I woke up with September mist
trapped under my sleeves
and the coffee said I should have
dreamt of you
going on a train
tiny golden specks afloat
eyes - sun - hair
"I like it when you nick my pencils"
get on
get off
you leave when I arrive
and the heating goes
tsk tk tk bfoorf bllrrrrr

Sorry, but this is good.

[djy78usa]

Un Sac de Produit D'hygiène de Femme - (Apologies to Dave Matthews)

I pop up the collar
on my pink polo shirts
I "hang" with my "brahs"
at Dave Matthews concerts
I wear a white baseball cap
the sticker's still on the bill
Hi, nice to meet you
My name's Massengill

I love "Family Guy"
I quote it non-stop
I use gallons of gel
my hair's spiked on the top
I say "keep it real"
whenever I leave
I thought we'd already met
the name's Summer's Eve

I talk way too loud
on my cellular phone
My sence of self-worth
is far overgrown
I wear plaid-patterned shorts
And my shirt's never tucked
I'm a big plastic bag
of feminine hygiene product.

[SleepyWitch]

this is really funny, djy.
who's Dave Matthews?

[djy78usa]

Thanks Sleepy. Dave Matthews is an American musician. I actually enjoy his music, but a lot of his fans really get on my nerves... Here's a link to one of his music videos (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KmegYNGWwyc)

[SleepyWitch]

here's a very, very bad one full of tacky rhymes. it's got some obscenities in it, so please don't read it if you're a little kid.

"oo" is supposed to represent the way Manchester ppl pronounce "u", eg. in but
"oh" is supposed to be a longish northern English "o" like in smoke
etc

North and South – a very bad poem in the form of a dialogue between Margaret and Mr Thornton with occasional interruptions by the Evil Spectre of Sexuality

„You conceited heartless tradesperson, you,
it is so inconceivably cruel
to use your workers like a tool,
for which I do despise you, phew!
Ought not you improve their mind
that in your mill so toil and grind?”

“Nah, I wohn’t meddle with their private lives,
oop ‘ere we value our freedom so mooch more
that 'aving doon their daily strives,
leisurely interference they’d deplore.”

“But what about their education
to raise them to a higher station
of spiritual enlightenment?”

“It seems we disagree on this,
and as me business needs provision
I wohn't explain now me decision
let me take leave for now, dear Miss.”

“Oh shock, how dare you touch me thus!”
“’oo says I want to tooch you, stop that fooss!
I only meant to shek your ‘and, you 'aughty soothern brach,
don’t you ‘ave manners where you live, och aye, aye och!”

~~~the evil spectre of sexuality who is trapped inside Margaret’s … head …raises ~~~

“Woooaaaahahhahahahhaahnaaaaggaaaagggaaahuaaahahah aha,
Helllo, whom have we here? A lusty dame?
I’m Spectre, Fornication is my middle name.
Don’t you be so smug and snide,
I’ll pierce and penetrate your maiden pride,
I’ll lick you with the flames of passion,
set fire to your chilly womb
till you yearn for this man’s compassion
in his mother’s sitting room!”

“Oh no, it is so cold in there and dusty,
and you mistake: I’m far from lusty,
besides I’m far too young to marry
and in my heart a dislike carry
for this man.
And furthermore he’s just a friend,
with whom some time I like to spend,
although I love his flashy smile
and brooding countenance
Oh my, I faint!!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Margaret is overpowered by the effort to repress the evil Spectre of Sexuality

“Oh, me Margret, me sohl, me ‘eart, me blood, me little moonkayh,
she’s like a queen, she’ll never ‘ave me, what the devil can I sayh
to mek ‘er loov me?
Ah, I’ll build a canteen for those good-for-noothings,
that’ll stop ‘er hooff-and-pooffin’
and I’ll visit Helstone, too,
and if I walk there in me shoe!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Me Margaret do you know these rohses?”
“Oh? Did I give them to you? I must have willy-nilly”
“Nonsense, me loov, you’re a bit silly.”
“Oops, I change my diagnosis,
‘tis from my home
you brought these flowers pressed inside a tome!”
“Clever girl, now give oos a kiss and be me wife
that never I shall more thee miss in this ‘appy life.”

And so they kissed all night and day
and Evil Spectre got his way.

[SecretUmbreon]

a bad poem? i'll try:

Ken was broke, so he was
Just desperate to
Find a room he could afford
Dancing was his passion
So he rented
A room with a
Lovely view

personally, i think this is just weird.

[Sarasvati21]

at the market
admiring
the pears when suddenly
a raven flies overhead
your hair
in its dark feathers
that
is the only
place you are
close to me
i say
i'll take the orange instead

[bree]

Just wrote a sonnet with my son for school. Nothing about love but here goes:

Cub camp

Last weekend I went with cubs on a camp,
The best thing was we did not need a tent,
We selpt in a dorm but it was quite damp,
My bed was comfy although it was bent.

We walked five miles to the nearest small town,
And then we came back and all had to swim
In the river, we raced and won a crown,
After we played football and all made a din.

The food was nice but not as good as mums,
For breakfast we had bacon and fried eggs,
Akela complained if there were some crumbs
Left on the table top or near the legs.

All in all I had a wonderful time,
I even tried to make this sonnet rhyme. :banana:

[Silas Thorne]

I woke up to find that kittens had grown upon my feet
the trees spited me
sailing away with a hiss like molten dishcloths
leaving me
alone.

The sunset plays
like plaque upon the teeth of a cave
parallelling distance
wringing out my rosebud
delectably septic
with cramp.

With mewling feet
I stamp
- thump! thump!

[blp]

Hey! Here I come!
Coming at you like a bullet from a gun!
Watch out, I might blow up the sun!
That's why people say I'm really fun!
I'm crazy,
I will amaze thee,
Say anything, I guarantee it won't phase me!
I'm like jello
pretty mellow
all in all it must be said
A really fine fellow.
That's right you heard me.
So don't absurd be.
Just because I'm over thirty
don't mean I can't get down and dirty.

***

Oh my god. Surely the worst rap ever. :blush:

[Silas Thorne]

Yes, wonderfully dreadful! Positively vomitous!

Love
flows freely
bursting out of a baby's bottom
creamy with effluent gree.
Starch this, mangrel soldiers of machine!
Make it clean now!
make my soul-stench
cry out
stain free

[Silas Thorne]

O lemon, thou sour bud, and harshly tasting
perfect in thy ovality, of you I sing.
Oh you, fine seasoning for other things like salad,
yesterday on the lovely fish and chips I had
you, lemon. Oh, you were sour and harsh!

[Silas Thorne]

Hope you don't mind, I feel like writing terrible poetry today. How about this one:

Dear John

My love
your absence pickles my heart
I lie there
on the shelf
waiting for you to throw stones
and smash my clear glass shell.

Your letter comes.
The pregnant sausage of my mind
sizzles in pain.
I squeak out my suffering
but you continue to fry.

[blp]

Yes, wonderfully dreadful! Positively vomitous!

Love
flows freely
bursting out of a baby's bottom
creamy with effluent gree.
Starch this, mangrel soldiers of machine!
Make it clean now!
make my soul-stench
cry out
stain free

I'm laughing as I type.

[blp]

Hope you don't mind, I feel like writing terrible poetry today. How about this one:

Dear John

My love
your absence pickles my heart
I lie there
on the shelf
waiting for you to throw stones
and smash my clear glass shell.

Your letter comes.
The pregnant sausage of my mind
sizzles in pain.
I squeak out my suffering
but you continue to fry.

Extra points for 'the pregnant sausage of my mind'. [more laughter]

[Riesa]

I felt the pen in my hand,
slowly unwrapped the thoughts~
a vowel, a consonant lies naked
as an adjective sky
full of brights and gleamings
glitters and falling

nouns

[JacobF]

woke up
head stuck
in a grapefruit

went there
no one there
woke up
head caught
in an apricot

looked around
around town
woke up
head place
in a grape

[blp]

I have some oranges on the sofa
I am boiling some water
soon I'll make coffee
the oranges are blood oranges
I have a slight ache in my middle back
on my right side
perhaps I slept in a strange position
I am typing (I can touch type. I'm quite
fast).

[Veva]

Seriously some of these poems are so BAD, i had no idea that one can create something so dreadful.. u must have spent so much time putting these up! but still you have my respect, I had much fun...

[blp]

Seriously some of these poems are so BAD, i had no idea that one can create something so dreadful.. u must have spent so much time putting these up! but still you have my respect, I had much fun...

Join in! Anyone can do it.

[Silas Thorne]

Poppa popped me one.
Forearms like Popeye
he twisted one eye to a bead,
swinging hamfisted havoc.
Kapow!
the card castle that I am
oyles away like olive to the ground.

[Silas Thorne]

A dag-rattling battler
from water-trough scarpers
they're coming with clippers
for three bags full.
Oh neigh no I say
Oh neigh no.
I much like those pastures
a long way away.

[blp]

Poppa popped me one.
Forearms like Popeye
he twisted one eye to a bead,
swinging hamfisted havoc.
Kapow!
the card castle that I am
oyles away like olive to the ground.

This genuinely has something.

[blp]

Or I will go away on other legs
foregoing Childish dumb fancies to learn
the ways of the cricked neck, sore head and dry eyes.
I will not go away on legs at all. I will not use the legs.
I will not go, I will not walk, I will not move, be glass.

I’m walking nevertheless, stopping, walking and stopping walking.
Running is something I do less.
Stop coming after me. Leave me alone. If you cannot come with me
without jerking me back, don’t come where I go, go away, stop it, stop
running in other directions with me roped to your sleeve, it’s
making me sick.
I don’t need to be hurt for running and walking. If you don’t like it, speak,
don’t run. Stop taking me into the domain of shock, making me run when I don’t want to,
making me stop when I do. Stop pummelling me with your senseless hurry. Slow down.
Let go of my arm. It hurts.

[firefangled]

there is no waiting door,
nor near you (where
my breathing starts),

love begins:
never only,
only is

[blp]

Sam, get a plan
you are supposed to be the man
and yet you every day dispose yourself
to be a little bit of ham

[blp]

Your most egregious remarks have been recorded to be used against you later
I know you’re comfortable with this, masochistically speaking, but consider
nevertheless, the position of your family, they who never so much as cocked
their hats at a pander, what of them, fickle, feckless dandy of the demi-monde?

[firefangled]

that’s a good one,
witches fear it coming,
subordination
is their bailywig, which
on the carpet this year
style may dictate
that that
is the way
to go

[firefangled]

of wierd or bad, I think more bad (heh, heh, heh...he said more bad)


house I built

night windows
full of dreams

in every room
pieces fallen
like crumbs

why are mirrors
frozen in time?

glass is yin
and yang

false light
and no light

why a choice

do not sweep
the floor

for I am lost
here and alone

mirror’s timeless path
or the grit
under my feet

listen now:

you cannot go
all the way
back home

[blp]

A Detournement

I am still
one alone
sitting

one who
in time
is still

I sit
unmoving
this

is the
defiance
against

the limit
the no more
the aesthetic

[mazHur]

If women could understand
by mazHur

she grew up to 43
pretty and intelligent
once married once divorced
two kids inherited
then history took a turn
she befriended a boy friend
who sucked her for whole 10 years
and then suddenly vanished with a shrink
taking away in a leap the engagement ring
and the promise to marry her;
time passed on
then enter a dragon
an Indian guy in the middle east
acting more loyal than the king
impressed her and won her heart
and finally vanished mysteriously
leaving no news behind.
Lately she bumped across me
and we exchanged our ideas
our aspirations, our likes and dislikes
she liked me for whatever reason
I liked her for most of the reasons
she wanted me to cross the skies
span the oceans and come to her
in a far-fletched land
I wanted to but my feet were fettered
with previous commitments
relocating was never easier for me
I told her this but she resented
said i was fooling her
that i was just entertaining himself
Ah! how she thought!
Oh, how could i tell her!
sometimes women are hard to convince
it takes men to die twice, nay thrice or more
to make them believe
the truth, the reality
that they are not disloyal
that they are serious
in matters of heart
but there are limitations
everywhere
If women could understand
I would be but too glad to tell them
That all is possible
that all could be accomplished
but there's a time for everything
that everything needed time

to enjoin or disassociate
that she should wait if she could
or take another way to Rome
as all roads lead to Rome
but remember

that Rome was not built in a day

that a tree will not bear fruit
instantaneously even if your poured
a thousand buckets of water
at its roots!

[Il Penseroso]

They go
talking of arithmetic
in the hollow of their eyes
a screech trailing
their movement
like a nylon glove.

Each number
turns to the next
counting
what they cannot have,
registers clanging
their buttons
pressed

[blp]

Good poem, IP.

[blp]

Practice dullness in the bath,
Take the grey and lifeless path,
Be boring so you'll blend right in,
See self-satisfaction as a sin.

[SleepyWitch]

Practice dullness in the bath,
Take the grey and lifeless path,
Be boring so you'll blend right in,
See self-satisfaction as a sin.

What's wrong with being dull
as long as you don't lull
everybody else to sleep.
Some bores are pretty deep
and grey sometimes proves silver-ore
laden with glittery bits galore.
Excuse the shaky geology,
there is no silver-ore, you see,
but who's the self in "satisfaction",
does it exist before the action?

:D

[blp]

What's wrong with being dull
as long as you don't lull
everybody else to sleep.
Some bores are pretty deep
and grey sometimes proves silver-ore
laden with glittery bits galore.
Excuse the shaky geology,
there is no silver-ore, you see,
but who's the self in "satisfaction",
does it exist before the action?

:D

I'd say you were right and my bad poetry
was just an expression of worse philosophy,
but your deconstruction
of self-satisfaction
is rather undone
by your inclusion
of that grinning emoticon.
So there! :nod:

[Silas Thorne]

Masturbation, with lines from Oscar

Do this, and the boy gets it! Blindness and death.
‘for each man kills the thing he loves’
a little man, a little death.
Self love, the only
love worth having
on a lonely night
with only your pillows for company.

There! Two shakes of a monkey’s tail
and you’re done.