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. 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

  2. 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

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