Bad Poetry ends on Tuesday!

So here's your last reminder... Tuesday is my birthday, and the last official day to enter our annual Bad Poetry Contest. The next day we'll pick a winner, and go back to answering your questions about books and publishing. If you'd like to jump in, today's the day. Just jump to the "comments" section and offer your worst. -chip

Comments

[Susan K. Stewart]

Really? Bad poetry ends on Tuesday? Beginning Wednesday, we'll never again see bad poetry? Well, I will every time I try to write a poem.

[Marie Prys]

Clogged Drain, Stopped Spirit

Tornado stops its spinning: ssshhhllloooop.
Oatmeal slime, yesterday’s apple peels subprime.
Passage blocked, happy exit stopped.
The same refrain: Damn the clogged drain.

Plunger sucking, this day joy-evading, waiting.
Frustrations high, scum line caked and dry.
My wish denied, wash-rough hands are tied.
The same refrain: Damn the clogged drain.

[Gina Holmes]

Happy birthday Chippy Mac!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[renaissance dresses]

Happy birthday!!!! I really hope my friend could make it! Good luck to all who joined!

[Mike Sheehan]

Jack the Dog

Jack, the hyper puppy, joined our family,
He loved to eat his many treats,
And poop incessantly

Jack, the hyper puppy, could not learn a trick,
But can you guess, who cleaned the mess
Whenever he got sick?

Jack the hyper puppy, wished to climb a hill,
Across the way he ran one day,
And now he’s called road kill

[J R Allen]

“A few of my less favorite things”
Thorny rose bushes and whiskerless kittens
Snowballs and doorbells and soggy wet mittens
Greasy brown bags, tied up with string,
“These are a few of my less favorite thing”
When the weathers good, when there’s no rain, when I’m feeling grand,
I suddenly remember my less favorite things and then I just feel, sooo bad
The end…or is it??
By J R Allen

[Jim Rubart]

Birthday on, Chip! Hope 40 is a great year!

[Craig Bubeck]

There once was a man named MacGregor,
whose fondness for prose was irregular.
Yet agents must balance—
with instinct for talents—
and forecast what markets will beg for.

[Kevin Kisinger]

Nuts snacking on nuts.
A wee bit nuts about nuts.
And nut butter too!

[Nursing top]

Happy Birthday!!wish you good health..

[Kay Tira]

I've got to find a word to rhyme,
but Tuesday's coming - so there's not much time!
Just have to hit the comment pad,
and make a poem - really bad.
So stopping in to drop a line,
Happy Birthday, Chip! We think you're fine!
Perhaps this little diddy will win...
But if it doesn't, 'least I dropped in.

[Molly]

Perhaps the Time Difference

Kumquat,laptop,
digestive biscuit meditations
To the theatre

St. George forgotten,
No crisps for me.

What kind of day was it in Kinshasa?
We've missed you

- Molly

[Jennifer Fromke]

The children listen
Their tears have glistened
It makes me miss em
And want to kiss em
And tell them to shut up and listen.
I can’t hear you because I’m not listening.

[Iben]

To my homegrown socks

yellow and pink
yeah you stink
more than you might think
yet so warm, cosy and slick
wet dog hair stick
it does the trick
you make a beautiful pair
for my two feet bare

[Ron Benson]

Brilliantly bad, Molly!

[Janice]

Butterflies

Butterflies are really sweet.
Butterflies taste with their feet.
A butterfly lands on my shoe.
I bet that tastes pretty eew!

[K Buchanan]

He saw me, I saw him,
Across this sanctum we call the gym.

My cheeks flushed, my heart raced,
Like snot running down a toddler's face.

My hopes leapt as bright and fair,
As the sweat glistening off his armpit hair.

His muscles danced delectably,
asking my name, it seemed to me.

I knew my head would soon rest,
Where his Ipod made its nest.

But before I could claim my mate,
Little Miss Toothpick did infiltrate.

Wretched lust, Curse the fates.
I'm going back to lifting weights.

[Arthur]

Happy Jelly

Jelly the fish is in the sea
Jolly jelly with ice lolly
Drinking ice tea in a beech tree
With Rose Marie the merry bee

[patriciazell]

Happy, happy birthday, Chip! (Not a bad poem--just a sincere wish for an excellent birthday!)

[Bill Giovannetti]

Geek Love

Aching heart my fingers raise
Ceaseless also endless praise.
My heaving bosom’s ne’er alone
My bosom love, my first iPhone.

I love thine app store’s free stuff the best,
I love thee in the icy no-service zone of death.
I love thy extortionistic data plan,
Calendar, text, games, photos with video –
With thee, who needs a womàn?

My constant companion, night and day.
When strangers see me with you, at the coffee shop I say
“Check out this cool app!” and they’re impressed, I know.
Because, at home, Mother tells me so.

[[[International Copyright All Rights Deserved Anonymous]]]]

[Marie Prys]

Happy Birthday, Chip! :)

[Gwen Faulkenberry]

Hughes has Harlem
Plath her Lady Lazarus
And Lazarus her Colossus
Auden has clocks and telephones, stopped though they may be.
Herrick has timely advice for virgins
Roethke a waltz
Sandburg catlike fog
Yeats his cabin of clay and wattles made.
Whitman has a quiet spider in an endlessly rocking cradle
Brooks is real cool
Pastan at least has her Marks
Dickinson has her signature punctuation--
And me, well, I’m entering this contest

[Melissa Kerkhoff]

It's About my Soul Isn't It?

I was eating my fries,
alone as usual.
I had consumed most of them then I saw
In the bottom of the basket
Black.
Crumbled crusty bits
of fries.
Dark and frail.
Fragile and hopeless.
Like my soul.

I was walking in the sunshine,
alone as usual
when my eyes trailed off into the grass.
I saw among the happy blades a single feather.
A dark feather.
Probably from a raven.
It was black and alone
Like my soul.
Even in a field of happy grass-blades,
it was dark and alone.

I was staring out my window,
alone as usual,
when I noticed the blackness of my window pane.
The darkness of it framed the falling light.
Soon all the light would be encompassed
by the darkness.
By the black void of the window pane
and the black void of the night.
It reminded me of my soul.

I went scuba diving,
alone as usual.
I saw the black stripes on a fish.
The black seemed to rip into its colors.
It ripped and tore all vitality away.
Like my soul.
And I realize here in the depth of the sea
that not even the fish
can bring a light to my dark soul.

[Hope Chastain]

One last try...

Night.
Birthdays.
It was a dark and stormy birthday.
If it does not rhyme, it is
Blank
Verse.

(It wouldn't let me post about 3 times!) Happy Birthday!