Sonnet du Jour, Terrible

In honor of the last Terrible Poetry Contest before summer break, I give you my very best at terrible-ness. Do as I do, or even worse, and you’re guaranteed to win:

Photo by Navada Ra on

I don’t like soup it makes me think of love
Erstwhile torment forsooth magniloquent
Like when my boyfriend made me soup with doves
Pain angst pain angst pain angst I’m eloquent.
I took a steak he cut out from my heart
Or flank -oh, agony! At least the taste
Was better, far, than soup I think in part…
But haste I hates or waste on waist for taste
“You make no sense,” he croons from slurping spoon,
“The dove I caught, the steak a homophone.”
“Alas,” I rage to azure suns, then swoon
At this failed step to feed my sex hormones.
Something symbolic and depressed goes here
And then I rhyme with ‘soup’ and sound unclear.

37 thoughts on “Sonnet du Jour, Terrible

  1. M. June 4, 2022 / 3:44 pm

    Well Bravo, looks a winner to me 😉😁

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Richmond Road June 4, 2022 / 5:07 pm

    OK. I’m impressed. You have set the bar very low and most of us may struggle to get under it. Although I thought there were a couple of instances in there somewhere that started to make a bit of sense.
    Here is another modest attempt on my part …..

    that I scoop out of the entrails of our love
    the little bits of pre-digested nourishment
    that fall like manna from above
    our love that travelled the universe like a comet
    with all the colours of a parrot
    oh, wait. that’s vomit
    and I think I see a bit of carrot
    floating around in there
    with the noodles and oodles of emotion
    I have the notion
    to express
    like milk from the breast
    all the best, to us
    with love

    Liked by 1 person

    • Chel Owens June 4, 2022 / 7:03 pm

      I thought of you throughout!

      I’ll try to remember to include this one as well; thanks!


  3. Doug Jacquier June 4, 2022 / 6:16 pm

    Tragic that such an inspired piece of terribality failed to feed your sex hormones. 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

  4. obbverse June 4, 2022 / 6:29 pm

    Verily, I stand slack-jaw, smacked of gob;
    Thy, Ms Owen, hath rendered a terrible job.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Chel Owens June 4, 2022 / 11:03 pm

      Ah thanks, Obbverse.
      -although I’m sorry
      To smack your gob
      And slack your jaw-ry. 🙂


  5. obbverse June 4, 2022 / 6:31 pm

    Misseth the ‘s’ on thy noble name. Perish do I, wracked with gibbering guilt.


  6. Nope, Not Pam June 5, 2022 / 5:14 am

    Yep that’s the winner. Fantastically bad Chelsea

    Liked by 2 people

  7. D. Wallace Peach June 5, 2022 / 12:17 pm

    Whoa, Chelsea. That’s about the terriblest of the terrible, the manglest of the mangled. Lol. Loved it.

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Frank Hubeny June 5, 2022 / 8:27 pm

    Nice line – I can just hear him say it; “You make no sense,” he croons from slurping spoon,

    Liked by 1 person

  9. carolyncordon June 6, 2022 / 2:05 am

    I love it, it’s terrible! Betty Boop rhymes with soup, by the way, if you wanted to slide a totally unrelated cultural reference in the poem, and apparently poetry with cultural references is ‘on point’ at the moment …

    Liked by 1 person

    • Chel Owens June 6, 2022 / 10:17 am

      I like it. I like it. I hadn’t even considered throwing in a cultural reference!


    • Chel Owens June 6, 2022 / 9:18 pm

      I sure hope Shakespeare wrote better than that!


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