Terrible Poetry

It’s that time again to don the terrible poetry cap. Chelsea Owens has set the following criteria for this week.

  1. The Topic is vacations. Were you in paradise, the envy of all your online ‘friends?’ Did you finally cross off your bucket list trip to sleep atop the grave of Edgar Allen Poe? Or, was your experience a little less than ideal?
  2. As may be expected, this means the Length is postcard parameters. Write your poem home to your parents, to your grandparents, or your pen pal you want to impress.
  3. Rhyme if it works, or if it doesn’t. The choice is yours.
  4. Make it terrible!! Don’t make me sic the camp counselors on you, right after unleashing beach sharks to photo bomb your Leaning Tower of Pisa pic.
  5. Vacations aren’t risqué. This rating can stay PG or cleaner.

The PG level rules out my previous trips to Amsterdam, Brussels, Glasgow, Prague, Lille, Oban, Cardiff, Brighton, Dover, Paris, Caen, Strasbourg and most certainly Aberdeen. This week I handed over the poetry/postcard cap over to our son. He asked for a location and I gave him Marseille.

It’s Marseille

Postcards are redundant

Will email so I can attach photos

With that he hurled the cap back in my general direction. Ok. Here’s my go. I asked son for a location and he helpfully gave me Pluto. Does an airmail stamp cover space?

Arrived in Pluto just 459 years late.

You wouldn’t believe what they are charging on the exchange rate.

Can’t open the hotel windows as the air tends to dissipate

Can eat what I want as the low gravity gives me little weight

The beaches are empty so it feels a little desolate

The trip round the 5 moons was first rate

The nightlife is great at the disco you should see the locals gyrate.

Tomorrow off to one of the poles to ice skate.

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I have to own up I did promise to include a theme for someone but just couldn’t fit it in this one – definitely next week. Plus this is version 2. Version 1 finished with the line copulate….

Terrible Poetry

It’s time for Chelsea Owens weekly poetry challenge. If you want to have a go pop over Chelsea Owens great site by 8:00 a.m. MST next Friday (August 8) to submit a poem. This week the challenge is.

  1. Our Topic is Anything. You choose.
    The catch? Whatever subject you select has to be way too flowery and/or descriptive. Adjectives and adverbs are your new best friends, closely followed by metaphor, simile, hyperbole, synecdoche, and personification.
    The other catch? The type of poem is free verse.
  2. Length? For the judge’s time and sanity, keep things under 250 words.
  3. For the first time, you may NOT Rhyme! What could be more poetic than free verse? Most people think that’s true and who are we to add rhyme to their meter?
  4. As always, make it terrible. Poets who take themselves way too seriously must applaud your efforts, worried to be the first to point out the emperor has no prose.
  5. Although a bawdy free verse poem is likely to exist somewhere, most stay around PGor cleaner; you can as well.

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In our darkest times you bring unbroken sunshine

With a bouquet unrivalled amongst the finest wine

Like a fragrant flower sat below the finest red pine

How can something so small be so life enriching

Your smell, your taste so utterly bewitching

Just one drop is so completely uplifting

You shine out on our world like the stars of the southern cross

You are as wondrous and spectacular as the wandering albatross

You paint the world with a sparking diamond jewel embossed gloss

In the kitchen you are the unrivalled boss

Riding across the sky like the ancient god Helios

You are our light oh Great Tabasco Sauce

****come on you try to find something that rhymes and fits with sauce

Terrible Poetry

It’s that time again. Time for some terrible poetry in the form of Chelsea Owens weekly competition.

This week the rules are

  1. The Topic is a limerick about poets who take themselves way too seriously.
  2. One limerick’s Length is five lines long; an anapaest meter. Double it up for ten, if you wish.
  3. Limericks rhyme …or, at least, they get really really close.
  4. The most important rule of thumb is to make it terrible! You need anarchist beatniks in coffee shops the world over to raise themselves from a backlit Apple, scowl over something besides the injustice of everything, and slowly sip their organic latte in pure distaste for what you have done.
  5. As usual, keep the rating PGish or kinder.

If you feel the creative juices flowing then pop over to Chelsea’s site. Just remember Terrible is the new cool or as we say in the UK now – Boris Johnson is the new lunatic in charge of the asylum.

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There once was a Boris who wanted to be a Poet

He thought he was better than us that’s why he only drunk Moët

He thought it was ok to lie, cheat and bluff it all the way to the top

He even had his hairstyled like his best friend Donald’s flop

Unbelievably one day he became a poet wouldn’t you ***** know it

As this is PG of course ***** means just. In no way does it mean effing.

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I completely forgot about the separate challenge I have with Bob where we have to include a specific word. This week was supposed to be jalapeño. So here is version 2. It’s not PG and is definitely not very good…..

There once was bluffer Boris who so wanted to be a Poet

By birth he was superior that’s why he only drunk Moet

Poet Laureate he became happily chancing his people everyday at the casino

Laughing with his Eton buddies as he made his servant suck on a Jalapeño

Not bad for a scheming chancer who really doesn’t know much s**t

Terrible Poetry Contest

It’s that time for Chelsea Owens Terrible Poetry Contest.

This week’s specifics:

  1. Topic: Animals and their pregnancy.
    Did you know the African Bush Elephant carries …well, an elephant for 22 months? That a male seahorse carries the babies (up to 1,500!)? Or that female Komodo Dragons can impregnate themselves without a male through a process called parthenogenesis?
    Did you know you’re going to write a poem about it?
  2. Just to make it more fun, I’d like the Length to be about Hallmark Valentine’s Day card-sized. Bonus points if you actually write it like a Hallmark Valentine’s Day card.
  3. Rhyme? It’s up to you.
  4. Mostly, just make it terrible. Whilst composing your note of affection, a pregnant elephant all the way across the ocean needs to raise its head from the water hole toilet and vow to spend its next 21 months making its way to your house…
  5. do know where babies come from; but if National Geographic can keep things clinical, I think our usual PG rating will suffice.

Additional a very wise person has asked if I would include the following word.

antediluvian

Well thanks for that pal at least I gave you the much more usable bedposts to play with.

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When the Giraffe gives birth the baby falls to the ground

But luckily the calves are not hurt they seem to rebound

Lucky female seahorses as the males are the ones who give birth

I wonder how that effects the dads and their much prized girth

A chipmunk can give birth every forty five days

That’s enough to make Alvin stop singing and go into a daze

Opossums are quick they only gestate for fourteen days

Pressure on the males as it’s an even quicker menstrual phase

Humans are so much slower yet no less Herculean

That all makes the our pregnancy rather antediluvian

Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest

It’s time for Chelsea Owens Terrible Poetry Contest.

They really are great fun. It’s nice to do stuff well outside your comfort zone. AND it helps distract you from today’s worries.

Topic: Unusual ways to make money.
(No, prostitution is not that unusual. Thanks, Certain-Regulars-Who-Know-Who-You-Are, for wondering.)

Keep the Length as short or long as your muse needs, with an upper limit of 250 words. If you want to Rhyme, go ahead. If not, I won’t stop you either. As always, playing with rhymes is a great way to screw up a potentially lovely poem.Most of all, make it terrible! Elon Musk, Bill Gates, Steve Jobs, Warren Buffet, and even the POTUS himself need to take a full five seconds of their precious time to stop, look at you, and shake their head in disbelief. Rating? PG or nicer, as usual. You have till 8:00 a.m. MST next Friday (July 12) to submit a poem.

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Rupert likes to make shed loads of money.

Not bad for a lad who comes from a land which is so sunny

A man who set up his own news corporation

Who still had time to build a TV station

Making so much dosh he thinks he owns your nation

So how does our Rupert make his cash

Promoting fake stories with panache

Filling his TV channels with balderdash

Getting you to watch TV shows filled with advert trash

Rupert also likes to control the news

He wants you to sign up to this perverted views

Making sure his political buddies get friendly interviews

His opponents suffer as fake news spews

Terrible Poetry Contest

I’m still thinking about a new hobby. Maybe I should try poetry. As son says ‘more time spent writing poems means less time to burn things in the kitchen’. Any way I’m going to have another go at Chelsea Owens weekly terrible poetry competition.

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Here are the specifics for this week:

  1. The Topic is a repeated number. Pick a number, any number, and use it a lot throughout your poem.
    Besides children singing pop songs, I loathe when I have to sit through everyone using the same prompt word for 500 entries. So, irritate me.
  2. Keep the Length shorter than 150 words, so I don’t jump out any windows.
  3. Please Rhyme in terribly, horribly, no-good, very bad ways.
  4. If you can’t tell already, make it terrible. I want crazy people to look at you in fear and for the survivors of Lostto beg you not to repeat that same number again…
  5. Keep things PG or cleaner; there’s no need for crude numerals.

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Again I am hampered with the PG rating. Maybe I should pick a subject which doesn’t make my blood boil. Maybe it’s Gerbils next week. Well it’s a blood boiler this week. It’s the fiasco which is called the UK Government and the ongoing new PM selection process – that’s the one that doesn’t involve the general public.

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Two years for Brexit

Two years and still no exit

Two Prime Minister candidates left

Two Blokes from the right

Two Privileged Backgrounds

Two supporters of hunting with Foxhounds

Two so called men of the people

Two big personalities who loath the townspeople

Two prize A buffoons

Two politicians so easy to lampoon

Two conservatives who love the tycoon

Two elitists who exist for the silver spoon

Two visions which only bring despair and gloom

Two numpties living in a policy vacuum

Two muppets who are so out of tune

Sadly one to be PM in June.

Terrible Poetry Contest

Need to lower the blood pressure so it’s time to go bizarre.

The wonderful Chelsea Owens hosts a weekly Terrible Poetry Contest. This is my entry for this week. Remember it is supposed to be terrible – not that I could ever write proper poetry.

My poem is dedicated to the wonderful and incredibly gifted people we have vying to become our next Prime Minister. This week terrible poems have to be kept clean. Drat.. the fun I was going to have with Hunt and Hancock…

A better rhyme for Boris involved deporting him to Wisconsin – but I wouldn’t do that to those very fine people.

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The ten amazing PM candidates

Needed since the dreadful May abdicates

Boris Johnson

Looking out for number one

Jeremy Hunt

No more than an embarrassing publicity stunt

Michael Gove

Slowly disappearing in all the cocaine lies you wove

Dominic Raab

Wouldn’t trust you with a kebab

Sajid Javid

You make our police so livid

Matt Hancock

Talks utter poppycock

Mark Harper

Completely incompetent usurper

Esther McVey

Only wants you to obey

Rory Stewart

The leadership qualities of a Raspberry Tart

Andrea Leadsom

Will only bring national doom

That is Britain Today

A country in complete disarray