Bad poetry corner

Hi guys. The low-pressure area "David" or "Dan" or whatever it's called is currently approaching to punctually meet us beginning of this weeking as is customary with Munich weather. This has touched my reptilian heart and made come up with some of my own Crappy Poetry. I'd love you to contribute!

This one is a sensitive poem called "Ode to my lost Sock":

You were so dear to me
Where can you be?
Why did you leave
and let me be
My poor cold toes
Await in woes
I'm freezing, can't you see?

I am all unmatched now
like a spotted cow
awaiting your return
I put you in
the washingmachine
for you it is I yearn
Come back oh fluffy one!

BTW: I am still not happy with the "come back oh fluffy one" bit. It someone doesn't harmonize..

There once was a lady called Bright
Who could travel at the speed of light
She left one day in a relative way
And came back the previous night!

Heres one I wrote back in 96 as a piss take on emotive verse after doing too much acid.. Pretty amatuer, but I havent been able to do better since. I think I have another one here somewhere too...

The fire is perfect, the woods cut just right
and the whole room glows in its warm, golden light
it seems intriguing but how can I tell
that it's drawing me in
like some strange spell

The TV is playing videos of concerts long since gone
and as I listen to their enchanting song
I now know who I want to be
their music's played with a passion that
stirs something in me

To be here by the fire, tonight
this is nice, it feels just right
this is my home, a home of the brave
standing here, a pioneer
in my home, my castle, my cave

I can feel a bond with those who have passed
here I am, my turn, at last
this glorious feeling makes me want to sing
what's missing?
Just one thing...

I wish you were here beside me, love
you could fly in the door like Noahs dove
you could be my special treat
if I was lucky enough to have you here
my life would be complete

To dream is all I hope for now
I would use all I could: magic, money and power
I would buy you something pretty to wear
to go with your warm eyes and kind smile
and your beautiful long hair

We would talk and joke around and play
and live a lifetime in one day
we could go outside and look up at the sky
my dream come true
just you and I

We could sit real close, in our magic bliss
and with tender passion we would share a kiss
we are as one at some late hour
nothing matters not wealth or power
you are all I can think about right now

I open my eyes and let out a scream
I am cursed with visions of such a sweet dream
when will I learn there is nothing to gain
but all that I find
is driving me insane

This sad existence is making me cry
I wish I had given you more of a try
but sadly I am just too meek
as yet another tear
rolls down my quivering cheek

Some time today I smelled your perfume
and I couldn't remember, like a forgotten tune
the memories of you are becoming hazy
to let you go
would just be crazy

I pick off the floor a long golden hair
I will keep it to help me remember you dear
My emotions are thankfully no longer sore
now I am not scared
to dream any more

Imagine, sweet love, the times to be had
the joy we could share could make the whole world glad
it would be great, together as one
we would go together
like the moon and sun

Snow covered mountains and fields of flowers
there's fun to be had for hours and hours
do you know that eternal bliss is not a myth
with you I have found it
and there is no one I would rather share it with

A house in the country with forests and ponds
like magical gifts from a fairy's wand
not a care in the world and nothing to hide
life seems so simple
with you by my side

So follow me now while we are still young and free
I can be whatever you want me to be
in this fantasy world nothing is what it seems
as we keep to ourselves
in our world of sweet dreams

Summer time gifts us with a warm and gentle breeze
blowing gently through the grass, the trees, and the leaves
how lucky for us to own this great land
smiles exchanged
as I take your fair hand

You lie on the lawn and play with the cats
and I bring out the drinks, the music and sunhats
every second of my life is packed with glee
as I ask you dear lady
where would you rather be?

As evening approaches in fantasy land
back inside, you take me by the hand
the doors are open as the night air calms
in a blissful state
I fall asleep in your arms

We can build on this dream of the cats, you, and I
this time the limit is beyond even the sky
free from all evil, care and curse
locked up in our minds
our own private universe

I am happy again as I sit on my chair
for I know what to do in case you aren't here
no longer do I have to cry
for all I have to do is
simply open my minds eye

And heres one I wrote about the same time for mothers day, also just a bit of a piss take and not a real attempt at proper poetry.

She sits on her bed with a bottle of gin
and thinks back to the days when she had soft skin

She's feeding her dolls and dusting her room
and dreaming of the perfect groom
to grow up to be a mum and a wife
to her it seems like the perfect life

Her fiftieth birthday is but one week away
and things are getting decidedly grey
menopause has struck, a woman no more
right now she feels lower than a whore

Her daughter used to play like a carefree monkey
now she's nothing but a heroin junkie
her son gave hugs that she adored
now hes dying of aids in a hospital ward

Cooking and cleaning for twenty eight years
no one ever noticed the tears
the repetition is fast becoming a joke
as her and husband are very broke

Fat stomach, sagging breasts, head of grey hair
she blames herself when he looks elsewhere
night after night . ho after ho
but she quietly pretends not to know

She has failed in her role of womanhood
nothing any more feels bad or good
the future holds nothing but terrible doubt
the knife in her hand is the only way out

She takes to her wrist as the blood drips on her sheets
peace at last as her heart no longer beats

The official poster boy of bad poetry. (Do I hear a cry of "Belmont!"?)

(oh, how I do miss my old copy of Pegasus Descending...)

Hmm...very bad indeed.

Aslo anything by Pam Ayres

A cow once thought she was a girl
but no one would believe
They stole her milk and ate her kids
All she had left was grief
Then came a man
He had a plan
To turn her into a steak
She put on a wig
and some lipstick
And with that could escape
Today she's here
If you could bear
To have her on your site
She is quite nice,
will give advice
And promises not to bite.

IPJ has been at the dboms and abols again
Kza is de man
So is Yeti
and Katrina

THE END

That little beauty was written about me by a receptionist where I used to work - as you can see she was a bit weird...luckily for her I only got told about the poem (which is on www.poetry.com) on her last day when she got pissed and told me about it. I was scared at the time and I'm still pretty scared now.

Good work thusfar. Thanks. Can it get worse?

Hmm, some of the more interesting bits of magnetic poetry I've found on my fridge:

 lick purple rain from an ugly woman’s petal. Smear delicate hot juice on her, give her a knife and see the girl fall on a rock. Death ghost. My foul pink lust is a trip

 for myself – wherefore jest every vehemence, heave whatsoever beseech’st him, ne’er warrant your spot, measure this apparatus, dost like his tale, always

I like this one from Prince's classic, Oh Sheila:

Uh, baby it's 1,2,3
I love you baby, honestly
I want to deeda leeda lee
A deeda leeda loo

Uh, Oh Sheila

Great songwriting. Really

I think I posted this in the normal poetry thread:

Here I sit, broken hearted,
tried to shit, but only farted,
then I thought I'd take a chance,
tried to fart and shat my pants

Oi, Jimbo--poetry.com--the online poet's most beloved resource...can you feel the irony? Only worthwhile thing that crowd gave us was the inspiration for the Wergle Flomp Poetry Contest.

Go 'head. You know you can do better. Or, in this case, worse...

I like the simplicity and clarity of BostonSportsFan's poem. Short and snappy and gets the message across.
Edit: Cowgirl's brought a tear into my reptilian eye.

Due to a supportive PM received I have "dug deep" and produced another moving piece... but this time I onlz ask that you not ask me to interpret my work as an artist since each piece of art should represent something personal for each of us (ahem)

WHICH CHIC ON TT SHOULD WASH MY SOCKS
by Parnell

They all should especially Moonboot
Penis

THE END

Baldrick

I'm torn between declaring Parnell the new W.B.Yeats or the new Walt Whitman.

I suppose he could be W.B. Yeatsman !

@Parnell

Which man at TT should clean my barn?
Which man at TT should lick my ... coat?
Which man at TT should chase the flies away
from under my tail?
Parnell it must be, only him will dooo
I say that with a really load MOOOOOOOO

here is one against the huns. doesnt make perfect sense though

"If I had the wings of a sparrow
and,I Had the arse of a crow
I would Fly over Ibrox tommorow
And Shite on the b*st*rds below!"

I woke early one morning,
The earth lay cool and still
When suddenly a tiny bird
Perched on my window sill.

He sang a song so lovely
So carefree and so gay,
That slowly all my troubles
Began to slip away.

He sang of far off places
Of laughter and of fun,
It seemed his very trilling,
brought up the morning sun.

I stirred beneath the covers
Crept slowly out of bed,
Then gently shut the window
And crushed his fucking head.

I'm not a morning person.

Hey that little gem was on a birthday card I sent my best friend last year

My chilli was lovely
My chilli was great
Could of won the cookoff
If I hadn't eaten it straight.

Bollocks.

What was Baldrick's "Boom Boom" poem called ?

Haiku!

"No, Beavis, not 'high cool'. Haiku -- the haunting Japanese form of three-line poetry."

"That was cool huh huh
When we killed that frog huh huh
It won't croak again"

"The German Guns"

I have the suspicion that *some* people and animals aren't taking my attempt at unleashing the crappy poet that slumbers inside us all seriously..

Taking bad poetry seriously?

This haiku is bad.
I mean, really, really bad--
horrible, even.

There once was a troll, name of geno
who didn't much like to be seen-o,
he mashed on a button
to be quite for certain
he remained in a state clandestin-o.

(five minutes in the composing...whaddya expect?)

Well done Papa Geno.

Here is my belated contribution to crap poetry. (Although thanks to Phillip Larkin, Ted Hughes, Andrew Motion etc isn't there enough already?)

On Wet Toilet Paper

O woe is fallen on me
Tis morning after Englischscharfes Curry
How my guts are sorely vexed
And I dread what happens next
I sit myself upon the toilet seat
And brace for curry's revenge to greet

O woe is fallen from me
Look not down!!! Do not see!!!
What's in bowl below me
I am filled with dread dismay
Cleaning myself will take all day
Never again!!! I falsely say!!!

O joy is fallen on me
In bag, wetwipes I see
I will not make myself sore
I will use drypaper nevermore!!!
Without a care,without a thought
I wetwipe away what curry has wrought
I wipe till I am clean
I wipe till I gleam
I feel fresh like a dream

@Andrew

That really deserves the title as Winner of the Crappy Poetry Thread. Congrats!

I have following contribution:

Summer in Munich:

It was too hot,
it is too wet,
hair always sticky,
bloodpressure tricky
body sticking to the sheet
as at night I lie awake,
trying to sleep

the head is throbbing
thank God for Asprin
or I'll be sobbing
away goes david, eric, frank and hansi
the next low is here
for those who fancy
More thunder more rain
more heat and more hail
Come summer, please do!
I cried out and wailed.

thanks Majorbummer

I did actually write a fourth verse to this "poem", but as it reveals too much about my personal proclivities, and might be misconstrued as a criticism of the personal hygiene of some of my exs, I thought better of posting it.

@Andrew

A true crappy poet knows no bounds, sir!

little boy blue
he needed the money

Okay in answer to request from MajorBummer, I am posting the missing verse of the poem

O wetwipes is joy upon me
When I visit a promising lady
In her bathroom,I see you
and smile at what I will do
Without a worry, without a frown,
I look forward to going down.

@Andrew

Thanks once again, it's a shame one can't merge it with the original poem.. A piece of art in its completion.

not even original

thank you and my pleasure
You were right I should have had the courage of my poetic convictions
"Publish and be damned" as the Duke of Wellington once said, but not about bad poetry

On waking with an early morning hard-on

I half wake from slumberous dark
Down below, what do I mark
Somethings happened to my dick
It does seem uncommonly thick
and it feels unnatural hard
As though of steel, ´twere a shard
In length, half an inch more long
My joyful heart is full of song

I fully wake from slumberous dark
To dreadful reality I must hark
Twas not as big as it did seem
Twas all but a sadistic dream
What a vile and wretched trick,
To make it seem so monolithic
How cruel is wretched Mother Nature
That this tormenting memory I endure

on realising the rift with your girlfriend

Roses are red, violets are blue
sugar is sweet
and so are you

but the violets are dying
the roses are dead
the sugar bowl's empty
and so is your head

@Andrew

Excellent work young man!

Vegetarianism, by Don Marco Riina

Vegetarians make me sick,their viewpoints get right on my wick,
"Dont eat meat, it's cruel! it's murder! Why not try a veggie burger?"
I'll tell you why, they taste like shit, and that is just the start of it.

Their reformed tofu and processed quorn have become the object of my scorn,
They try their best to imitate, the meat that I have on my plate.
Linda McCartney, shes the pits, forming quorn into fake little bacon bits.

"Jesus Christ", I often say, "do I carve carrots out of beef fillet?"
I'd never partake in such a deed, and all the veggies should take heed,
And stop already with all this makin'
of veggie burgers, and tofu bacon.

As a human, I'm an omnivore, I'm equipped with teeth to chew, and gnaw,
And what is wrong with killing a beast, who has only been bred to provide a feast?
If he weren't to be eaten, he would not have been born, and for this I look upon veggie "morals" with scorn.

If you really wanna make a stand, I have some advice for you at hand - the problem lies not in eating meat, but in mass production to make things cheap.
Battery production is meat pollution, but swapping to salad is a shite solution.

Roses are Red,
Violets are Blue,
I like my Veggie Burgers,
with shrooms and Tofu!

Sir, don't eat my juicy rump
I want to live as well
You only think with your stomache
Live on this farm is hell
That farmer took my son and daughter
Off to the gallows and had them slaughtered
You chew on us and shit us out
Is that what life is all about?
A moment of palatable pleasure is all that we are to you
But daily torture is what we have to go through
You ignorance makes me sick,I'm shattered
Our blood on the fields after we got fattened
Our lives they end when we are plump
Sir, don't eat my juicy rump

Oh the sadness and the beauty of the all this crappy poetry!

Cowgirl you should take some time, to read once more my little rhyme.
You write of hellish lives and torture, of farmers stealing sons and daughters,
But I'm no supporter of misery, I want animals to have lives of glee,
An animal slaughtered under duress will produce crappy meat, due to the stress
All that adrenalin and stuff just results in meat thats rather tough
"Chew em up and spit em out", no thats not what life is all about,
But frankly, they are bred to eat, they are not pets they're simply meat.
But they should have much happier lives, before they become filling for my pies.

You mention my ignorance, but its just not true,
I know my subject through and through.
I know my veg, I know my meat, but by cutting out either, you're missing a treat.

Sir, you say we are here for your belly
At 10 bucks the kilo as seen on the telly
Does that make it better, our meat at a price
Would you like it if I had of you a big slice?
Sir, we might be stupid and we might be many
But so are you and of foods you have pleanty
So why kill us and eat us if you have variety?
Why keep us on death row and living in anxiety?
Your brain came with compasion,judgement and tools
Have a nut, have my milk, have some vegis and foods
I don't want to become part of your stool.
20 bucks the kilo does not make it better.
Life has no price, I write in this letter.

Signed
Cowgirl

Ahh, this is fun, to argue with prose,
I actually prefer it this way, as it goes.

My genetics provided a brain with compassion,
But also some teeth in a similar fashion.
Teeth, that I'd like to point out to you,
built to do more than chew grass wie ein Kuh.
The food chain is natural, and we're at the top,
we breed meat to eat it, thats it, fact, full stop.
You think that milking a cow is OK?
Having machines on its nipples for most of the day?
Diary herds get treated like shit,
fed on ground bones in the name of profit.
Perhaps you feel, by not eating a cow,
that you're actually making a difference somehow.
But by then stating its fine to milk herds,
it just seems to me that you're mixing your words.
A cow raised and killed in a humane way,
is a different from dairy as night is from day.

Re-examine your morals, as a matter of course
before you decide to sit on your high horse.

Since you're speaking of eating I might join in the fun.
and Try to add my wit without any puns.
Eating a cow, a horse or a pig,
May not seem to some as bad as a cig,
But to others it is a matter of choice
what causes their mouths to become quite moist.
Whether for politics or personal views,
all choices are made by you, but its the cows that do lose
you have a choice: the animals a whine
of what you eat or on which that you dine
some people care to leave out the hairs,
or skins or bones for the their sumptuous fares.
Mind to your own plate and we will be fine
but I prefer to not eat my friends or any of their kind