The Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest 2/8-2/14

Chel Owens

Love is (still) in the air, for our 58th Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest! -For nothing says “terrible” quite like the pain and embarrassment of our very first crushes.

That’s right! I’d like every one of you to remember your First Love. What did he or she look like, smell like, eat his/her boogers like? MOST IMPORTANTLY: if you were to write that person a poem, in exactly the advanced writing abilities you had at the time, what would that poem look like?

Specifically:

  1. The Topic is an awkward first poem to your awkward first crush.
  2. I don’t know how prosaic you were then, but I’ll assume the Length will be on the shorter side. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if, like me, all of your poems took on the form Rose are red, Violets are blue…
  3. Rhyming? Maybe, maybe not. How poetic were you?
  4. Naturally, without trying, make it terrible. I want the younger version of you to read over your composition, sigh in romantic ecstasy, and imagine the love of your life rewarding your efforts with that elusive First Kiss.
  5. I’ll give Past You the benefit of the doubt and assume you’ll keep the Rating at PG or cleaner.

You have till 8:00 a.m. MST next Friday (February 14!) 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.

Have fun!

anna-kolosyuk-4R6pg0Iq5IU-unsplash

Photo credit: Anna Kolosyuk

41 thoughts on “The Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest 2/8-2/14”

  2. Is This Love?

    Your eyes,
    Your hair,
    Your cheeks,
    Your stare.
    Fart jokes and burps,
    Spitting and slurps,
    What’s a girl to do
    But sigh, and bury
    All those touchy feelings
    Those horrible feelings
    Those—Oh, wait, another fart joke.
    Marvelous, you. Oh, marvelous.
    I laugh, we curse,
    Smile, we converse
    About everything and nothing
    Five second rule,
    Doesn’t matter. You watch your friend
    Hit his head in the locker.
    Not a shocker. You laugh,
    I roll my eyes, my heart stutters,
    Am I in love? Is that what this is?
    You wiggle your fingers
    You walk like a caveman
    With his mouth busted in
    By his stupid hands.
    Why do boys do stupid things?
    Well, they’re boys.
    You talk to me,
    I say something,
    You say something,
    Conversation—is that what that is?
    Are we talking?
    Is this real or a dream?
    (Oh god I hope it’s real, please be real)
    I remember when I came to your birthday party
    and you invited me over to sit with you
    and I died. Well it would be more memorable if I did die,
    So, I guess I didn’t?
    And you turn to me so often
    Another fart joke
    Diarrhea, the squirts, the squirts,
    The worst, the worst. Why does my heart flutter?
    Oh, and I returned a pencil that wasn’t yours,
    You were confused about that
    But I insisted.
    I wanted to smack you in the head with my math book,
    But that smile made me take another look.
    Maybe I’d hit your friend.
    And you’d be okay with that, I think,
    Because why not, he needs it more than you do.
    You flap your hands around
    Make a diarrhea sound
    From your lips
    And then you farted,
    Your friend farted,
    We all died inside
    As the teacher ran to get Febreze;
    It was like tear gas, and eggs
    In some jelly of horse farts
    And sewage from a donkey. I like you, okay?
    You’re so weird,
    And then I don’t like you. It’s weird.
    You’re weird. I’m weird.
    So I say nothing and keep this to myself.
    My heart sunk when you said you didn’t know what
    To do if someone had a crush on you.
    Well, I’m right here, darlin’.

    But I wouldn’t say that,
    So I just nod and agree,
    Pretend we understand the world
    When we can’t, and alright,
    I just, I just like you
    Even though your farts are often
    And might make me dive in a coffin.

    Also P.S.
    Roses are red
    Violets are blue
    I really like you
    You have tp on your shoe.

    Liked by 4 people

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  5. My first crush

    You came to help me milk the cows in the cow shed.
    We were too busy so nothing much was said.
    You called them “dingly-dangly bits”;
    I called them “tits”.
    (I’m talking about the cow).

    My sister said it was unnecessary to do my hair
    Before I milked the cows; the cows wouldn’t care.
    But I told her there’s someone I’m trying to impress
    And it wasn’t Bess.
    (Bess was the name of one of the cows).

    Anyway you went on to higher things and wealth
    And I was left pulling the dingly-dangly bits by myself.
    You’ll never know that I had a crush on you
    Standing like a goddess amongst the cow poo.

    Liked by 6 people

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  8. The Girl With the Cat-eyed Glasses

    The girl with the cat-eyed glasses
    Stopped by today
    Ancient beauty!
    Her friend played a folk song
    On a guitar
    They all sang along
    She smiled
    Her teenage smile
    Full of age and grace
    At me
    She laughed
    At my stuttered joke
    For a minute I held her huge hand
    In my tiny one
    I wished I could leave
    On a jetplane
    With the girl
    With the cat-eyed glasses
    *
    True story. I always liked older girls. I was 5 and she was 17, you know what I mean? Strangely enough, teenage kids from my parents church would stop by, play a few folk songs and then leave. The girl with the cat-eyed glasses stopped over on her way to the prom and told me she was dressed up because we were getting married. “But I’m too young to marry!” the 4 or 5 Trent protested. She actually wrote an essay about me for her English class. And received an A. My mom still has it. Ah, the girl with the cat-eyed glasses….

    Liked by 5 people

  9. i was 5 and she was 6

    shall we ?
    i grabbed wendy’s hand
    we whistfully whisked ourselves down to the nighborhood school playground
    look the monkey bars meant for monkeying around
    so we did

    kiss her, they yelled
    kiss her on the lips, they teased
    wendy and i just wanted play
    play on the monkey bars that day

    i was pushed and goaded
    go on they said and do the deed
    so i pressed both lips boldly against her cheek

    they just laughed
    no, on the lips the older girl yelled
    a real kiss they all squeeled
    so we did
    then ran home crying as fast as we could
    because not all first kisses are always
    so good

    Liked by 4 people

    1. even it this doesn’t win…it was based on truth. i did really like wendy through the years and crushed hard on her when i was 11, just a shame our first kiss was forced bullying

      Like

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  13. Downstairs

    Wendy i love thee let me count the ways
    one, i have liked you since i was 5 maybe even before
    we played and played house and with fisher price little people
    till we couldn’t play no more
    two your bunny thumper is cool thanks for letting me pet him
    if we could try some of our own heavy petting (whatever that means)
    3 i love your smile and the way you move
    and then when we were in the playroom playing lights off lights on
    you show me yours I’ll show you mine
    till you mom told us to stop turning the lights on and off
    but it’s those three
    Wendy
    in how i love thee

    Liked by 3 people

  14. Got too nostalgic this week to plumb my usual depths of awfulness but I had fun anyway.

    Dear Miss Flanagan

    I love your sunburnt brown pretty freckles
    And your shiny beautiful cute red hair
    And your green eyes (sorry if their there not green)
    You look just like that film star (can’t remember her name but she’s really pretty, like Doris Day but not her)
    I know you catch me staring
    And I can’t help going red
    Please don’t marry drippy Mr. Smith
    Wait for me to catch up.

    Sined
    You Know Who

    PS – There really was a Miss Flanagan upon whom I had the biggest crush imaginable and, yes, she was always catching me staring and she really did marry drippy Mr. Smith and broke my heart. Of course I would never have delivered this fawning missive but I would have re-read and ‘edited’ it a lot and hoped she wouldn’t find it in the back of my exercise book.
    https://sixcrookedhighwaysblog.wordpress.com/2020/02/11/dear-miss-flanagan/

    Liked by 3 people

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  19. There’s a girl in my class so shy and so cute

    She’s so clever as she can work out a cube root

    She the star of athletics team and her name is Anita
    
Runs for the county as she is as fast as a Cheetah

    One day at lunch she came over to talk
    
I fumbled my words and started to squawk
    
One hot summers day I found my voice and asked her out in the end

    We became good pals but never lovers as she already had a lovely girlfriend

    Liked by 2 people

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