write a really bad poem

[hillwalker]

I'd choose flake
you just can't beat it
watching
nubile ladies eat it

[Skia]

Ah,
a flake is weak
compared to the beauty
of homer simpson

[Silas Thorne]

A man walked to the place where he was born,
and crawled back in. His mother died.

[Skia]

The photo on my card
is crap,
for the text didn't sense make.

[snape]

I made this one up on the spot really I don't think poetry is my calling i'm more into writing re-elistic storys that still aren't true but here goes I call it: Why the light is light

forth the dark begans to perish,
in light unknown by the devil himself.
the light that up above they cherish,
were rich men greedily swim in thier wealth.

Greedily is the word the dark use,
to describe the palace were the light dwell'th.
the dark itself are the greedy fuse,
that set the light on fire with stealth.

It's good St Michael that saved the light,
from evil darknesses clutches.
he put up an extremely courages fight,
and now dark deranges everything else that he touches.

[iamnobody]

My mantra is a writhing beast
With teeth that bite
And claws that tear
And yet I hold on
I must not let go

I hear you laugh and I am whole
(even when the teeth bite)
You say the things I long to hear
(even though the claws tear)

You make me feel special
And I'll pretend it's true
But I won't let go of the beast
This mantra
(notmine)

Torn and bloodied
Still it's worth it
Every time you smile at me

[TOOTS]

Oh woe, oh woe,
The end is nye,
My bosem pierced,
Unto the sky.

She came into my life so drawn,
Dilemma split betwixt the horns.

I helped her so,
Endeavours dire
She came to me,
Oh sire, sire.

How can I pay you back she said,
Her raven hair upon the bed,

Don't worry lass to her I said,
Don't worry now your pretty head.
At present now I'm on the wing.
I'm sure we'll think of some little thing.

[YesNo]

walking out my angst
trees growl
spider-heaven cracks
jumping cockroach
soul sad in its depths
subway jerks (blocked out obscenity)
orange light pops take up
Yet! subway dismayed
like my soul
cross is hanging on its side
star explodes in white (another obscenity I had to remove)
has pierced the soul
hanging - grope under dirty sheets
go deep i go deep and up
quite you think you know
i only no


I have some priceless formatting in the above that I can't seem to get to display. Which is probably just as well. I removed the obscenities.

[Silas Thorne]

Mon Coeur Frankenstein pumpernickel

O great cicada
a mote in your plashdom
is only a
triple retch on wallpaper,
yet
I
will
try with only a partial
silence, HARK!!!
HARK!!! Witness the braying of the porridge-drunk monkeys
most terrifically I cough delightful without terminus in medias res
'two's company, three's a crowd'
etc etc stab the organist through a demanding hiccough
no more than this will be divine.
But piss on it, Harry! Do not try to fight what ist becomen wilderbeast! These will recover.
'Don't watch it you'll go blind', pistachio concrete revelation!

THE TRUTH IS OUT THERE Felch biscuit

[YesNo]

They say I am "bipolar".
I like to be that way.
I'm baby-talking to you now ,
But later I will have a cow.
(I skipped my meds today! )

-- xoxo Bipoluh Baby (BB)

[tailor STATELY]

A Terrible Poem, by tailor STATELY

Why am I caught in your web ?
Eight-legged you were beneath
the sole of my boot when I found you
The one with the large hole in it

You reminded me of the day
Wednesday or Thursday
Maybe it was a Saturday
I know it was raining

Your breath like a duck's armpit
Awakened me, "so foul" I croaked
With a frog in my throat
"What's for breakfast ?"

And so another day goes by
I think it was Monday
The sun peaked from a cloud's behind
No, it definitely was a Friday

We walked, me with a little limp
You, all eight legs shuffling along
With a bright bandanna to hide your scar
To the Chemist's to buy a calendar

And a funny compact with pills
If chased down with prune juice
They're not all that bad
O, how I hate prune juice !

And today I find you in a corner
All eight legs pointing up to the ceiling
(Awfully quiet when you aren't breathing)
"Wake up Bob - We're pregnant !"

11/9/2010

[Delta40]

Wore and Piece
Sew Litter Alley
Proper Gander

[dark_writer500]

#1:
so all i do responsible in ways takling of do i say,
all that do people you say go hay to lay,
in ways of so much cryptic none that understand can yet,
try you please learn to mine ways.

course's laughs of i yet fail shall none do,
words all jumbled yet so may none all of know,
that course yes do i others need hear to,
and poemus terriblus listens really none so do.

poem terrible words of made has by me,
and may people of all be me of to be understood,
of is i bequeathed lies pharoahs learns i history by as passes,
so mystery is this sorry that understands none may me.

Solemnly lies i down rest for now,
and less cryptic have my messages become to kowtow?
learns of all i do yes have and too cows,
lovely world is it not that i leave?!


#2
HA! shouts i, messenger of nonsense!
laughing in teh higher men's ears! haha!
of poetic giraffes and flesh-eating meese,
and english teachers who like to chase geese!
blah! i yells in all my's happiness!
drinks too much in my lalalaaklsiness
but hates it does i, what i talkin round?
HEy! little mices confound!
you?
poemetics i am haha!
leave i must....must...must....
leave i must of course, i yet do?
so leave and begones, of me's that hoohoool.............

[Delta40]

lol. That's pretty bad!

[YesNo]

poemus terriblus

I agree with Delta40, dark_writer500. It is lovely nonsense!

Here's some "poemus terriblus" from my imaginary friend, BB.

BB on Body Scans

I must protest the body scan
Before they let me board my flight.
I'd much prefer a manly man
Would pat me down and do it right.

-- xoxo Bipoluh Baby (BB)