I may have to wash my eyes after reading these, but -WOW!- what a turnout of terrible poems! After much uncomfortable squirming, guilty laughter, and deliberation; I have chosen a victor.
Little Willie took a swim
Thinking the piranhas wouldn’t eat him
Don’t you think he was awfully silly
To assume a fish didn’t like Willie?
A Helping Hand
Poor Willie said
he wished he was dead.
I wished the same
so I took aim.
Congratulations, Trent and Jane! You are the most terrible poets of the week!
Although many, many entries were hilarious and/or disturbing; I specifically looked for those that captured the clever twist of the traditional Little Willie poem; those that flippantly versed of disaster whilst punning a punch line. Of the finalists, the two winners were my favorites.
Good work, everyone! Here are all of the poems:
Stuck in tar Willie waved
To the steamroller on the road just paved
The driver blindly sat
As Willie was made real flat
The doctor’s no expert at circumcision
Yes or no, it’s quite a decision
To be or not to be
Willie Willie’s willie?
by Deb Whittam
Little Willie went a swimmin’
While his friends watched on.
But the croc got hungry while he was chillin’
So they all applauded when he was gon
Little Willie unveiled his parts
Thinking he was very smart
He was found at half past eight
Begging to enter the pearly gates
Little Willie killed the roach
Then took a ride in the yellow coach
At his funeral folks did say
Little Willie seized the day
Water of Life
Little Willie was no liar,
But Little Willie’s pants were on fire,
If only he had been close by a lake
I’d likely not now be at his wake.
Little Willie had a thought
To play his trumpet at six o’clock
The sun had started rising, his father fast asleep
And now Willie can play all he wants–six feet deep.
A Little Exaggeration
Baron Boris casually enquired, just before beginning his dismemberments,
Of Little Willie in which fashion he desired to be held in remembrance.
Little Willie caught an itchy infection
Tried to visit his Doctor for an inspection
Was told no free appointments in weeks
So Poor Willie he ended up with very red cheeks
Little Willie fought a bull
in Barcelona, Spain
His body gained a few more holes
when it hit him like a train.
If I described the beat of its wings descending to the ground,
the claws, the teeth, the flames that brought Willie down,
It would sound like a lie, even silly,
Alas, poor Willie.
I told him not to smoke your fags
and why would I dip his glad-rags
in paraffin? It wasn’t me, dad.
Can I have Willie’s iPad?
Willie loved red, he dreamed of red
and all the thoughts inside his head
he drew on walls in crimson crayon
(He even mixed red in with the mayon-
Naise). While dripping red ink in a nearby well
he tripped, and heavily, in he fell.
As from the depths his corpse was raised,
Willie’s bloodied skull left his mother unfazed.
“I see he’s rejecting the red from his head
so it’s OK to chuck out his mayo,” she said.
Little Willie was up to no good
Chased his sister through the wood
Tied you her to a tree, left her for dead
Played with his dinosaurs instead
by Violet Lentz
‘Farmer Vincent’s Smoked Meats’ the billboard did proclaim.
“Where our smoking process, is our claim to fame!”
Little Willie, ever curious, set off one day to see
exactly what’s so special about Farmer Vincent’s recipe.
Little Willie never did discover Farmer Vincent’s smoking secret.
Farmer Vincent smoked him out. Then ground him into a tasty tid-bit!
I hope you had just as much fun as I did writing, then reading where everyone went with the prompt. Go on home now, and get yourself back tomorrow around 10 a.m. for next week.
Trent and Jane: D. Wallace Peach created this graphic that you can use (if you want) for a badge of honor as the winner: