The Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest

Hello and welcome to the 54th Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest!

As always, read some brief instructions on bad poetry here. Being terrible can be tricky, or it can be as simple as tripping on a smooth floor.

Here are the specifics for this week:

  1. The Topic is The Bleak Midwinter. Yes, I know some of you are not experiencing cold weather and do not feel bleak. Maybe come stare out my window for inspiration…
  2. Try for a Length of a standard 3-75.5 words.
  3. Rhyming is wholly up to you.
  4. Make it terrible. I want your poem to force travel agencies to contact your therapist to make appointments for themselves after reading it.
  5. Keep things PG or cleaner. It’s about the bleak midwinter, for heaven’s sake.

You have till 8:00 a.m. MST next Friday (January 17, 2020) to submit a poem.

Use the form below if you want to be anonymous for a week.

If not, and for a more social experience, include your poem or a link to it in the comments. Please also comment if you linkback but don’t see the notification in the comments within 24 hours.

Have fun!


This is more scenic than my view.

Photo credit:
Diana Parkhouse

34 thoughts on “The Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest

  1. Oh bloody hell
    I slipped and fell
    My bum feels bruised
    You’d think I’d get used
    To stupid New Hampshire winter
    Damn, an icicle splinter
    In my behind
    I need to see if I can find
    Just a bit of color
    Not this bland view that’s duller
    Than a black and white photo of the bruise
    On my caboose
    If I can be so bold
    I really hate the cold!

    It was actually 65 F here today, sunny, and gorgeous, but it has been icy of late… (And I do actually like winter, and no place is more gorgeous than NH 😉 )

    Liked by 3 people

  2. Coincidentally I was starting a post on winter subjects… and I now feel inspired to enter this contest. We shall see what results. (I usually try to write un-terrible things for Mere Inkling.)

    Liked by 2 people

  3. BRRR…

    its cloudy cloudy and cold it is
    Swept up and under the deep dark dank chill of the absence of light
    All I see is what you see, what you see is far from me as we waver uncontrollably from the bitter
    The bitter bitter white
    Depressed and withered from the bitter bitter
    Hardly a stutter from your cold brittle lips
    Chapped and muffled and our layers of clothes bundled tight
    Like Randy in a Christmas Story, we are all very much as it seems, a sight
    Like the bitter bitter air we see in breath
    Bleak midwinter blues
    Our hue of death

    Liked by 4 people

      1. I had one friend tell me it was too good to be terrible and another who read between the lines and liked the bad relationship it depicted that I unconsciously wrote about. Lol I was just trying to be terrible not good and definitely not metaphorically

        Liked by 1 person

  4. Squeak Mouse

    I seem to be undergoing a process of shivication
    which is no cause for celebration.
    Outside the weather is extremely bleak
    – did I just hear a mouse squeak?
    wee, sleeket, cowran, tim’rous beastie –
    and inside it’s no better because I’m shivering.

    I have no wood for my fire
    so I think I’ll burn my auntie;
    I think I’ll burn my auntie.
    Fa la la la la this will be no Silent Day
    – the smell of burning mutton won’t go away –
    put another leg on the fire Auntie May.

    Liked by 4 people

  5. Let There Be Light

    I don’t mind the cold or that white stuff they call snow
    What I mind is the lack of light, if it’s forty days in a row.
    Something kicks in, some hibernational urge
    And I find myself laying in bed
    Snoring a symphonic dirge.

    Liked by 3 people

  6. There you are –

    In the Bleak Midwinter

    It’s the bleak midwinter

    cold winds are blowing

    snow is falling, everyone

    is miserable and frozen –

    but not me

    here in the southern hemisphere

    it’s summer and I’m in short shorts

    and a close fitting tank top

    sitting out in the hot sun

    getting tanned

    and I think of you all up there

    in the frozen north

    cold and miserable

    and I smile at the thought of you –

    because I am an arsehole.

    Joanne Fisher

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Boy it’s bleeding bleak
Low chance of me doing a streak

    Every day it rains

    An everybody complains
Keep hoping for some snow
More chance of seeing Marilyn Monroe

    In every lane and field
Dreaded mud congealed

    Wind so strong
It bowls over King Kong

    No chance of seeing the sun

    This is no bloody fun

    Every day is exactly the same
Redonculous Boris that’s whose to blame

    Liked by 1 person

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