The Fifth Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest

Chel Owens

WELCOME young, old, and in-between to The Fifth Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest!

If you’re new, doubly welcome! I recommend reading about how to write terrible poetry. If you’re not new, read it again, then read these rules, then enter:

  1. The topic is ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas. This is my LEAST FAVORITE poem in the entire world -whenever it’s parodied. Therefore; I normally feel that every idiot who goes about with “‘Twas the night before Christmas” on his lips, should be boiled with his own pudding, and buried with a stake of holly through his heart; but this week you’re getting a pass.
    Strangely enough, I love the original. I have at least three favorite stanzas in there.
  2. What’s the limit? For the love of my own sanity and yours, please keep it to eight or nine stanzas, maximum. That’s about the point of the original where we read I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
  3. It’s gotta rhyme. At the end of the line. Make it fine.
  4. Remember, remember: the poem needs to be terrible. Clement C. Moore (or, Henry Livingston, Jr.) will want to visit you each hour the night of Christmas Eve to warn you of an angry mob of poets waiting for your death, should you ever write that way again.
  5. Keep it PG-Rated. Kids might climb up on your knee and ask you to read it to them.

Think you can do it? You have till 8:00 a.m. MST next Friday (December 14, 2018) to submit.

Post your poem or the specific link to it in the comments.

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53 thoughts on “The Fifth Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest”

  1. Pingback: Another Terrible Poem Week5 ‘twas the night before Christmas – Ruth Scribbles

  2. Twas the Night Before Christmas.

    Twas the night before Christmas, the twenty fourth of December
    No, wait, actually it was the twenty third, I seem to remember
    Hold on, let me do the math; it was the twenty tooth actually
    Hmm, come to think of it, I’m not sure of that exactly factually
    Let’s just say, for now, it was sometime before Christmas Day
    The harvest was ready and the people were making hay
    No, that don’t sound right, does it? How am I so wrong?
    De-dah-de-dah…subtract one, carry forward..Right! on with my song!
    Twas a (possibly) a night in December, or November, or June
    To be honest, the sun was shining, so let’s just say noon
    Twas in the middle of Summer, approx. around about midday
    O, look what you’ve done, I’ve forgotten what it was I was going to say.

    Liked by 13 people

  4. ‘Twas the nightcap before Christmas

    ‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
    Not a drop of alcohol could be found in the house.
    Grandma had hung her stockings by the chimney with care (to dry if you may)
    And I says this place is drier than a cowboy’s armpit on a cold day.

    The grandkids were nestled all snug in their beds,
    And grandma said she’d hidden a wee drop or two under the bed.
    And I said, well go ‘n get it and we’ll have a wee nightcap,
    Before settling down to a long winter’s nap,

    So we had a wee dwink or two
    And I said I knew
    The names of the reindeer off by heart
    And grandma said she reckoned I didn’t because I was a silly old fart.

    There’s DASHER! and DANCER! and PRANCER! and CLATTER!
    And grandma said that CLATTER wasn’t one of the reindeer
    And I said what would she know? And anyway to boot
    I was going up on the roof to clean the chimney so St Nick didn’t get soot on his suit.

    So we had another tipple and then I went up on the roof and granny held the ladder
    And I called down that one of the reindeer up here was called CLADDER!
    I said it’s as slippery up here as ice cubes in a dwink, and grandma said that was impossible,
    But it explains why I spent Christmas in hospital.

    When she visited me on Christmas day
    I said to granny where’s my Christmas present
    Cos it’s drier in here than a cowboy with a hat on his head
    And as she left granny said she left the stuff underneath the bed.

    MAREWEE CHRITHMITH!

    Liked by 8 people

  7. Pingback: The Fifth Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest | Myths of the Mirror

  9. OK, I’ll give it a try. Though my “serious poetry” is often bad without trying…
    Twas the night before Solstice
    And all through the land
    It was dark before the hourglass
    Was empty of sand
    Except down below
    The planets belt
    Where hotter weather
    Was sure to be felt
    For the tilt of the Earth
    Made night long
    So we celebrate
    By singing a silly song
    About the night before Solstice
    And all through the land
    Oops, I’m stuck in a loop
    So I’ll just disband….

    Liked by 6 people

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  15. Pingback: Terrible Poetry – ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas | Reality With a Twist ~ Books

  17. anneberlyandrewscom.wordpress.com/2018/12/11/twas-the-morning-before-monday/

    ‘Twas the Morning before Monday

    ‘Twas the morning before Monday, when all of the outdoors
    Were weeping, not sleeping, as people rode their snowboards

    Down the mountainside time and time again
    Mother Nature complained about a serious migraine

    Pleading for the sun to fade behind a thick, dark cloud
    And the humans to quit being so loud

    Enough was enough, she ended the noise quite quick
    When the weather turned icy cold, and instantly made them all sick

    Liked by 3 people

  18. This is my entry. I would like to note I’m recovering from a cold.
    —
    ‘Twas the Night Before Brutality

    ‘Twas the night before brutality
    When all through the house
    An axe murderer came stirring
    And boy, was he a louse.

    Stocking footed and booted,
    he tracked mud and then he looted.
    The silverware, the tea, the candles and dough
    for Christmas cookies were his favorite stow.

    The children were on their Xbox, headphones in place;
    their mother, upstairs with a giant toothache. 
    And then the burglar, oaf that he was,
    made his first glamorous and stupid faux pas.

    “I’m getting a cookie,” a young tot said.
    “Or maybe I’ll eat some dough instead!”
    Off the children went, all in a gang,
    When they came upon the burglar and broke off in a bang.

    “He’s stealing our silverware!” started the one.
    “That’s my gummy bear candy cane from my mum!”
    “He’s stealing everything–let’s get them, boys!
    I’ll go for his knees–you hit him with Tolstoy!”

    And on they tussled, right onto the floor;
    the axe murderer was caught, a thief no more!
    When suddenly they heard the mightiest roar;
    their mother was awake and, boy, was she was a boar.

    “What in heaven’s name is that noise!”
    “I told you to pipe down. I’ll take back your toys!
    Harold, I need you. Harold, wake up!
    The boys have destroyed the house and I need some back-up.”

    Click-click-click
    down from the bedroom came ol’ Susie and Harold Pick.
    In an instant they saw what was the matter
    and Susie doused the intruder with a heaping bowl of batter.

    “I’m calling the police, you axe murder you;
    Harold has got you hogtied–it’s true!
    Nobody steals Christmas from our kids
    All you’ll get is a knuckle sandwich!”

    Liked by 5 people

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  20. Pingback: The fifth weekly terrible poetry contest - Holiday Confusion - Shallow Reflections

  21. Here’s my entry. What a fun contest!

    Holiday Confusion
    ‘Twas five months before Christmas when all through the stores
    Christmas decorations replaced ingredients for s’mores.
    It’s summer, you say? What a waste of my dime!
    There’s no commercial benefit to having downtime.
    You can’t have too much shopping and wrapping and joy
    And singing repeatedly Little Drummer Boy.
    Par rum pum pum pum,
    Rum tee dee dum,
    Dum dee dee dumb.
    I’m perfectly fine and my thoughts are as clear
    as the midnight when angels let out a loud jeer,
    “Give Santa the boot and tell him goodbye,
    Send up a rocket, it’s the Fourth of July!”

    https://www.shallowreflections.com/the-fifth-weekly-terrible-poetry-contest-holiday-confusion/

    Liked by 4 people

  22. Thank you for providing some entertainment in my insomnia! Here is my terrible poem –
    Twas the night before Christmas
    After being laid off
    Feeling scroogish and angry
    And full of bitter scoff
    And the reindeer were noisy
    As I yelled from the hall
    That this Christmas was cancelled
    I had just hit a wall
    But the morning was coming
    As I opened the door
    To see packages falling
    From outside to the floor
    I remembered the shopping
    From my computer at night
    Back when I had money
    And it wasn’t so tight
    I thanked God that I finally
    Saw my OCD as a gift
    And I made up with the reindeer
    So they could give me a lift
    My anger subsided
    As I loaded the sleigh
    I passed out all the presents
    And knew it would all be ok.

    Liked by 2 people

  23. Thank you for this fun challenge!! I am trying to post and do a pngback but thw new editor is weird.

    Here is my first attempt at a terrible poem!

    Twas the night before Christmas
    and feeling alone
    not a creature was stirring
    not even their bones

    Went into dreaming
    to get a fresh streaming
    feigned a get away
    accidentally landing in the UK

    Stuck in a snow storm
    wearing flip flops and t shirt torn
    darned if I didn’t miss Bali
    astral body took the wrong trolly

    Phone booth in the distance
    it would take ten pence
    Mrs Santa answered
    saying the one went onward

    Saw Santa and his reindeer
    racing in the sky so clear
    bridging the distance
    I climbed onto Blitzen

    While the snow is glistening
    I am freezing yet
    cheerful to be part of this team
    only to pull out the Jim Beam

    Thankfully to wake
    in a warm bed I did make
    but be damned to want
    to go back and not faint

    To be bold
    and not fold
    under pressure
    from cold weather

    Mistakes can be made
    next time be sure
    to arm the astral with fur

    Liked by 2 people

  24. Pingback: Christmas Chaos | writing to freedom

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