*YAWN* ‘Mornin’, ma peeps. Welcome to December and to our fourth week of The Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest.
If you’re new, welcome! Read over my advice on truly sucking at poetry, then read these rules, then enter:
- The topic is That Object That Always Breaks in Your House. In It’s a Wonderful Life, George Bailey keeps pulling off that darn banister knob. Chez moi, it’s a heat register originally glued under my kitchen island counter. Maybe yours is a loose bit of carpet or a lightbulb that burns out within a week.
- What’s the limit? Word count needs to be between 3 and 153 words. In mathematics terms, that means 3<P<153.
- Rhyming’s up to you. Do what you do.
- And, most importantly: the poem needs to be terrible. I want your mom to pause before telling you that …well, your penmanship has certainly improved in the last few years and that you know she loves you no matter what, right?
- Keep it PG-Rated. Mom’s going to read it, after all.
Think you can do it? You have till 8:00 a.m. MST next Friday (December 7, 2018) to submit.
Post your poem or the specific link to it in the comments.
chelowens.com 
Thanks!
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Looks like I posted twice. I’m just learning what ping backs do. 😮😂
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🙂 Works for me! 😀
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https://rhscribbles.wordpress.com/2018/12/01/3rd-week-terrible-poetry-contest/
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Well, I’m a newbie, Chelsea, but I had to give it a go since I’m in total awe of the terrible poetry posted here. This is a true poem.
Fie to electric appliances
A freezer of thawed burger
Lightless, coldless, and iceless
Spoiled-milk refrigerator
Woe to the washing machine
Growing microbes of mold
A soup of dank undies and socks
Mildew makes me blow my nose
A pox on the dishwasher
I weep at the caked-on guck
Plates spotted like a chicken
It won’t scrape off and that really sucks
I could go on and on forsooth
About the vacuum clogged with mutt hair
The blender, micro, crockpot, and other stuff
But my appliances are dead and don’t care
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Oh my gosh…This is honestly such a brilliant idea. I’m in.
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Yay! We can always use more brilliance!
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WonderWoman and SuperGlue.
Oh, Honey!
what did you do
with the glue?
In the drawer?
Oh, heck, it
seems to be
stick-
ing!
Yes, it’s stuck!
good and true,
Hon, that one where
you put the glue.
You did what with
the glue top, Dear?
Oh.
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Alright, here’s my entry. It’s juvenile, but clean, humor. I think “mom” would be okay with it but please let me know otherwise, of course. I have it set to post on Day 6 on my blogmas, but I want to post it here now so I won’t forget. Thanks again!
—
The Banshee Toilet
Oh woe is me, for I dearly have to pee.
But the truth is, our toilet, why, it’s a banshee.
Every time I go to attend the flow,
it gives off an unearthly bellow!
Eeeek, it cries, after I thrust the lever down.
Eeeek, it sounds, down the hall and across the town.
What is one to do, when nature calls and your knees are crossed?
When you’re hopping around downstairs, until you’re suddenly quite lost?
Grab some toilet paper, my dear
and don’t let the Banshee know your fear.
For urinary tract health is a real concern.
Never hold it, our mothers said–listen and you’ll learn.
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Never overlook urinary tract health! 🙂
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That Object That Always Breaks in My House
Day after day, at home, the same thing breaks;
‘tis not the dawn that breaks o’er yonder hill,
(although of course it does for goodness sake),
‘tis something else that is my bitter pill.
Perhaps my car doth brake when I come home,
but that’s a different spelling, I perceive.
The brakes of cars could break, as could a drone’s,
but that is not the break that is conceived.
The thing that almost daily breaks that’s mine
pains me to the core and can’t be glued.
It’s not the breaking eggs at breakfast time,
nor be it breaks for lunch to eat some food.
Know when you leave for work and we’re apart,
each day, and all day long, you break my heart.
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When I come back as a potter
In the next like, I will stop
My nemesis that makes me utter
rude words; the curse of the china tea pot.
The lid never ends up in its groove
It just follows its own trajectory
As if it just has to prove
Its aim is it’s out to get me
into trouble. I’ve dropped it more times
than the cups it has brewed
And while I really don’t like to whine
If the tea ends up stewed then I’m screwed.
I’ve repaired the lid, I’ve even soldered the spout
When they try and stop me, I cry ‘get off me’
I just have, on my own, to sort this mess out
After all if I don’t then the alternative is we will just have to drink coffee…
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Optically Challenged
Called CD player on the box,
that should have been a clue;
The gadget oughtn’t be
considered as having
the remotest thing to do
with performing any function
‘ere it went kerploo
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Nice sounds and rhymes with this one.
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Here’s mine:
https://michaelsfishbowl.com/2018/12/06/terrible-poetry-contest-week-4/
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Thanks! I’ll check it out tomorrow morning!
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Thanks!!!
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Looks like pingback didn’t work. Here’s my submission… cringe
https://rhscribbles.wordpress.com/2018/12/06/4th-week-my-terrible-poem/
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Sorry… may have been my end. I’ll read tomorrow!
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