The Terrible Poetry Contest 3/18/22

Welcome to the biweekly Terrible Poetry Contest!

Most poetry is terrible. We’re just out to make fun of it. Need to know how? Click here.

Here are the specifics for this contest:

  1. Colleen Chesebro has decreed the Theme to be aging (or, ageing). The form is a burlesque poem. Burlesque isn’t difficult; after reading the definition, I realize we write in that form frequently. The idea is to mimic styles or subjects of others in a funny way.
  2. Therefore, Length is up to you.
  3. Rhyming is up to you.
  4. Making it terrible is up to you! I suggest you choose to, since you’re not likely to win otherwise. Parody the satire out of a pastiched poet. Please.
  5. Rating: PG-13 or cleaner. Aging can bring out the worst in us.

You have till 8:00 a.m. MST on Thursday, March 31 to submit a poem.

Use the form below if you want to be anonymous for a week. It hasn’t gone through unless you see a message saying it has.

For a more social experience, include your poem or a link to it in the comments. Please alert me if your pingback or poem does not show up within a day.

The winner gains bragging rights, a badge, and the option to choose the next iteration’s topic and type of poem.

—–

Photo by Ivan Samkov on Pexels.com

©2022 Chel Owens

WINNER of the Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest 3/17/2022

What a week! Joanne suggested we tanka about what’s in one’s pocket. Who wrote the winning poem; eh, Precious?

Twisted Tanka

by Colleen Chesebro

shopping lists and lint
my mittens turned inside out
pocket poetry
quiet your skeptical mind
get your winter coat dry cleaned

—–

Congratulations, Colleen! You are the most terrible poet (I hope you take that as a compliment)! Let me know the type of poem and theme for the next two weeks!

I’m impressed that so many excellent writers stooped to write terribly about pockets. Colleen’s tanka won for breaking the most rules about writing a tanka and for making the least sense. Well done.

And, enjoy the others whilst you search your own pockets:

Terrible Tanka

by Frank

Inside my pocket
I found nothing. Anyway,
I cannot rhyme this
tanka so I won’t, but X
was where I found that nothing.

—–

Untitled

by An Artist Named M

Got the brand new pen
Cap in hand, pen in my shirt
Wow she’s , pretty hot!
Nipple Sweating? Profusely!
NO, no, no, no the ink leaked

—–

In my pocket

by willowdot21

Sticky sweet wrapper
Impaled upon my house keys
Rusty safety pin
Half a snotty ripped tissue
One dip means messy fingers.

—–

We Can’t All Be Ringo (a terrible tanka by Trent)

by trentpmcd

looked for Pepperland
in me yellow submarine
past the monster sea
so I grabbed a round thing up
I’ve an ‘ole in me pocket

OK, so Ringo said “I’ve -got- an ‘ole in my pocket”, but that was one syllable too long, and, well, we can’t be Ringo…

—–

Revenge

by The Bag Lady

standing with that look
satisfaction of a kook
made her pay the fine
for another’s love sublime
relax, he’ll get his in time

—–

Identifying Holes

by Geoff

In my pocket I find
A hole through which my life slips
A hole robbing me
Of my sanity. And cash.
It is a complete A***hole…

—–

Untitled

by Greg

Hand in my pocket,
Looking to steal my spare change.
I’ve left a surprise,
Cold, moist, just a hint of slime.
“A used handkerchief, you swine!”

—–

Untitled

by Couldn’t be Pam

Mother’s pride turns sour
Dreading the moment, for now
its laundry time, must
put hands in pocket, oh what
Will we find? Boogers delight

—–

Thank you, everyone! Come back to learn the next two weeks’ prompt.

Colleen: Here’s your badge you can post as proof of your poetic mastery:

terrible-poetry-contest

©2022 The poets, and their respective poems.

The Terrible Poetry Contest

Welcome to the biweekly Terrible Poetry Contest!

This contest came about because of too many poets writing far far too many qualifiers (I mean; really?), emoting in the sloppiest ways, counting syllables on their fingers about any ole subject and naming it ‘haiku,’ and because of cliché. Don’t get me started on poetic clichés. What better way to solve a problem than call it an elephant and invite it into the room, yes?

Here, then, are the specifics for this week:

  1. Joanne Fisher won the crown last time round; she’s suggested a Theme of what one might find in one’s pocket. The form? A tanka.
    Tanka poems are not difficult. The master, of course, is Colleen Chesebro, mother of Tanka Tuesday. Like haiku, there are syllables involved. The pattern for a tanka is 5-7-5-7-7. “Tanka consist of 5 lines written in the first-person point of view from the perspective of the poet” (more information, below).
  2. The Length is five lines.
  3. A tanka does not rhyme.
  4. Ah; just make it terrible! Cause Gollum to regret he ever asked what was in there -even for the chance of some nice, juicy poet-meat.
  5. Rating: PG or cleaner. I don’t know what you keep in your pockets, but I’m betting it’s no edgier than lint or a cell phone these days.
© Colleen Chesebro, wordcraftpoetry.com

You have till 8:00 a.m. MST IN TWO WEEKS: Thursday, March 17 (St. Patrick’s Day!!) to submit a poem. Every two weeks works better for me, so that’s what we’re doing.

Use the form below if you want to be anonymous for a week. It hasn’t gone through unless you see a message saying it has.

For a more social experience, include your poem or a link to it in the comments. Please alert me if your pingback or poem does not show up within a day.

The winner gains bragging rights, a badge, and the option to choose the next iteration’s topic and type of poem.

—–

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

©2022 Chel Owens

WINNER of the Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest 3/3/2022

Dumbestblogger decided we needed a limerick about grain. Given such a difficult idea, who wrote the winning poem?

Tom’s Mistake

by Joanne Fisher

Tom thought the best way to have a great brain
was to consume a great deal of grain
so he drank a large amount of scotch
till walking along some tracks he did botch
managing to get run over by a train

—–

Congratulations, Joanne! You are the most terrible poet! Let me know the type of poem and theme for the next two weeks!

Who’d have thought a limerick about grain would be possible? Well! I enjoyed reading through all of these. I had a few favorites at the end; admittedly, my junior judges helped choose the winner. Joanne’s poem won for skipping a more traditional limerick format -in a clever, distracting way and for the humorous twist.

Read the rest for more cleverness:

Terrible Limerick – Grain

by Frank

There once was tiny wheat grain
all soaked in a wonderful rain.
He sprouted. Oh, dear!
Now he’s done it I fear.
He thanks God that he ain’t got a brain.

—–

(Unfortunately, I came up with a second stanza.)

by Frank

The grain in the dirt in the pot
praised God for the stuff that it’s got.
“I won’t worry away
on this cold wintry day.
Bodda bee! Bodda hye! Bodda bot!”

—–

SOBRIETY

by M.

My distaste for barley & rye
is why I hate blueberry pie
Dad offered a sip
But, I took more of a nip
then barfed blueberry pie in his eye

—–

Untitled

by Richmond Road

I limp because I’m in pain
I am sensitive. Let me explain.
It all has to do
With a lump in my shoe
It is sand. But only one grain.

—–

Field Of Dreams

by Obbverse

This new farmers lot was not a happy lot
Till crop rotation helped fill in the plot,
Come harvest, in a quiet green field
A bounty of seeds’n’buds is revealed-
So, wild oats adds little profit to the pot.

—–

RATastrophe

by Greg G

Da bins damn full of dem rats;
Dey filled it all up wid der shats.
Gone ruined da grain,
From hunger we ’ere slain,
Me should’ve procured dem damn cats

—–

Lady of Skye

by Bruce Goodman

There once was a lady of Skye
Who had a grain of sand in her eye.
She said, What the heck
I’ feeling quite feck-
less. I really wish I would die.

—–

Tasty

by Nope, Not Pam

Marjory and James were having a brawl
She’d made cinnamon tarts he didn’t like at all
She snuck them in his meal
But after the great reveal
Had to quickly sidestep the vomit freefall

—–

Brave Little Train

by Dumbestblogger

There once was a brave little train
Filled to the the brim with some grain
It jumped off the tracks
And sat in the rain
The grain has now all turned to hay

—–

This is terrible for many reasons, not least the subject matter

by TanGental

One consequence of the war in Ukraine
Will be a world shortage of its fabulous grain
Which is one reason to put the boot in
On that a***wipe Vladimir Putin
Again and again and again and again…

—–

Thank you, everyone! Come back to learn the next two weeks’ prompt.

Joanne: Here’s your badge you can post as proof of your poetic mastery:

terrible-poetry-contest

©2022 The poets, and their respective poems.

The Terrible Poetry Contest

Welcome to the weekly Terrible Poetry Contest!

Read HERE to learn what terrible poetry means. It’s all there. Stop asking. And now that you’re a pro, here are this week’s specific instructions:

  1. Last week’s winner, Dumbestblogger, picked a limerick on the Theme of Grain. That’s right: a limerick about grain. Click here or here or here or here or here to see times we’ve done limericks. They’re one of my favorite forms and are fun!
    A limerick is five lines: AABBA, in anapestic meter.
  2. The Length is five lines.
  3. A traditional limerick Rhymes. Stay traditional, like 100% whole wheat.
  4. Make it terrible! I’m not certain how rotten grains can be, but have great faith in your ability regardless. If nothing else, we’ll be nourished by carbohydrates.
  5. Rating: PG-13 or cleaner. You do know what a limerick is, right?

You have till 8:00 a.m. MST IN TWO WEEKS: Thursday, March 3 to submit a poem. I have things this week, so we’re running the contest an extra week longer. Yay!

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

For a more social experience, include your poem or a link to it in the comments. Please alert me if your pingback or poem does not show up within a day.

The winner gains bragging rights, a badge, and the option to choose the next week’s topic and type of poem.

—–

©2022 Chel Owens

Photo by Maddi Bazzocco on Unsplash -ignore the nuts

WINNER of the Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest 2/17/2022

Matt won, once again, for a terrible pantoum about embarrassment. He came up with a new contest for this past week: a cento on compassion. Who, of all our lovely entrants, came out as worst best?

My Story

by Dumbestblogger

This is my story, this my refrain
Will we find closure or circle the drain?
She got run over by a damned old train
I’m falling for you now, just like the rain
New heights I’m gaining every day

You upset the apple cart
And one man in his time plays many parts
The knave of Hearts, he stole the tarts,
And took them clean away.
G’bye, I’m going out to play!

(Credit to; Fanny Crosby, Wage War, Steve Goodman, Clint Black & Hayden Nicholas, Traditional, Ira Gershwin, William Shakespeare, Lewis Carroll, Shel Silverstein)

—–

Congratulations, ‘bestblogger! You are the most terrible poet of the week! Let me know the type of poem and theme for next week!

Picking a winner from the intentional mishmash of mishmashing proved tricky. Dumbestblogger’s work stood out to me for its lightheartedness and fun despite 2020-2021.

All the rest were clever and delightfully obscure in many cases:

TRY A LITTLE KINDNESS (Glen Campbell)

by Matt

Oaths of thy love, thy truth,thy constancy (W.Shakespeare)
Enthroned with him above the skies (J.Newton)
She wept,nor would be pacified (W.Wordsworth)
What is so real as the cry of a child? (S.Plath)
And here you come with a cup of tea (S.Plath)
Let’s do each day a kindly deed (R.Service)
But most thro’ midnight streets I hear (W.Blake)
Hi-Fi Rolling Stones Ray Charles Beatles (A.Ginsberg)

Fleetfooted quicksilver,God of transience (A.Ginsberg)
I told my wrath, my wrath did end (W.Blake)
We REAL cool (G.Brooks)
Does my sassiness upset you? (M.Angelou)
Well,son, I’ll tell you (L.Hughes)
Your love,and recompense the moon with mine (PB.Shelly)
Of meadow sweet and white anemone O.Wilde)

—–

A Cento Animico

by talesfromthemindofkristian

The Owl and the Pussycat went to see,
The Elephant (Though all of them were blind),
Like Love, unkindly passing by.
There’s a thread you follow. It goes among
A host of golden daffodils, they dance.
The reprieve papers are not signed, behind.
It was a poignant portrayal of the effects.
A collage of fragments of poetical objects.

“The Owl and the Pussycat” by Edward Lear, “The Blind Man And The Elephant” by John Godfrey Saxe, “The Way It Is,” by William Stafford, “I wandered lonely as a cloud,” by William Wordsworth, “Reprieve,” by Alison Prince

—–

Untitled

by Not Pam

The ceaseless dissonance of wrong
Was smitten with a startling sound
Of all the public places dear
Whenever you’re in trouble won’t you stand by me

The glad song falters to a wail
Should tumble and fall
At length I to the boy called out
For coppers I can dance or sing

“Whence comes,” I said, “This piteous moan?”
And darlin’, darlin’, stand by me, oh stand by me
Of peace with unselfish unconcern?
For gold-escape from locks and chains

By thy free grace unmerited
She checked herself in her distress
I’m on my knees. I beg of you
Oh stand by me, won’t you stand by me

Simon Armitage-“Give”
William Wordsworth-“Alice Fell, or Poverty”
John Greenleaf Whitter-“Divine Compassion”
Ben E. King-“Stand By Me”

—–

This world may end, not you and I. (Bee Gees)

by Frank Hubeny

Part 1: The Lover’s Petition
I’ve got to say it and it’s hard for me. (Bee Gees)
Lord, we don’t need another mountain. (Hal David)
Love should be everything or not at all. (Bee Gees)
Oh, listen, Lord, if you want to know. (Hal David)

Part 2: The Lord’s Response
My love is stronger than the universe. (Bee Gees)

—–

For Our Children

by Gr8BigFun

Suddenly there came a tapping, (1)
Out of the night that covers me. (2)
Who are these coming to the sacrifice, (3)
With throats unslaked, with black lips? (4)

We wear the mask that grins and lies, (5)
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light. (6)
Though it be darkness there, (7)
Some say the world will end in fire. (8)

No man is an island, (9)
And all the men and women merely players. (10)
We passed the school where children played, (11)
And that has made all the difference. (12)

Footnotes:
1) The Raven – Edgar Allen Poe / 2) Invictus – William Ernest Henley / 3) Ode to a Grecian Urn – John Keats / 4) The Rime of the Ancient Mariner – Samuel Taylor Coleridge / 5) We Wear the Mask – Paul Laurence Dunbar / 6) Dover Beach – Matthew Arnold / 7) There is another sky – Emily Dickenson / 8) Fire and Ice – Robert Frost / 9) No Man is an Island – John Donne / 10) All the World’s a Stage – William Shakespeare / 11) Because I could not stop for Death – Emily Dickenson / 12) The Road Not Taken – Robert Frost

—–

A Great Reaping

by Obbverse

I wandered lonely as a cloud … (William Wordsworth)
In Flanders field the poppies blow, (John McCabe)
When all at once I saw a crowd (Willy Wordy)
Between the crosses, row on row. (Johnny Mac)

Continuous as the stars that shine, (Willy Wordy)
In Flanders fields the poppies blow, (Johnny Mac)
They stretched in never ending line… (Willy Wordy)
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow. (Johnny Mac)

—–

Thank you, everyone! Come back tomorrow to learn next week’s prompt.

Ian: Here’s the honorary badge you can post as proof of your poetic mastery:

terrible-poetry-contest

©2022 The poets, and their respective poems.

The Terrible Poetry Contest

Welcome to the weekly Terrible Poetry Contest!

Here. is all the information you need to write a terrible poem. Seriously. Or, just copy off the internet but put the endings of stanzas at the beginnings.

Becaaaaause… here are this week’s specifics:

  1. Theme? Last week’s winner, Matt, picked a cento style poem about being compassionate. Matt explains that “At its most basic level, the cento is a poem comprised of lines and phrases from other previously written poems. Many centos …use the work of multiple poets. But there are some that focus on just one specific poet. The cento can be a sort of ode to the poet and/or poets featured. Or it can be satire.”
  2. Length is up to the poet. (That’s YOU.)
  3. Rhyme if it feels right.
  4. Make it terrible! -You know, so long as you think others will find it terrible as well.
  5. Rating: PG or cleaner. Think of the children!

Still confused about a cento poem? Wikipedia says, “A cento is a poetical work wholly composed of verses or passages taken from other authors, especially the Greek poet Homer and the Roman poet Virgil, disposed in a new form or order.”

You have till 8:00 a.m. MST next Thursday (February 17) to submit a poem.

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

For a more social experience, include your poem or a link to it in the comments. Please alert me if your pingback or poem does not show up within a day.

The winner gains bragging rights, a badge, and the option to choose the next week’s topic and type of poem.

—–

©2022 Chel Owens

WINNER of the Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest 2/10/2022

TanGental‘s own Geoff Le Pard introduced us to a Pantoum this week. To help us save face, he also suggested we write on embarrassment.

So! Who typed the most embarrassing pantoum?

THAT ONE AFTERNOON AT WORK I WILL NEVER FORGET

by Matt Snyder

Darn, I forgot my belt.
I sure was feeling svelte.
As I was walking down the hall and stood by the darkroom, pew the sulfur I did smelt.
Shucks, just then my pants fell, the embarrassment I surely felt.

I sure was, feeling svelte.
Then my world was upside down, with the card I was dealt.
Shucks, just then my pants fell, the embarrassment I surely felt!!
My female coworkers pointing and laughing, like a bucket of water thrown at me, I was the Witch that Dorothy did melt!

Then, my world, was upside down with the card I was dealt.
As I was walking down the hall and stood by the darkroom, pew the sulfur I did smelt!
My female coworkers pointing and laughing, like a bucket of water thrown at me, I was the Witch that Dorothy did melt!
Darn, I FORGOT MY BELT!!!!!!!!!

—–

Congratulations, Matt! You are once again the most terrible poet of the week! Let me know the type of poem and theme for next week!

The judge had fun trying this poetic form. The pantoum crafts an interesting poem for the poet and I noticed this made few of the poems actually terrible. Matt’s won for breaking the syllable meter with his long sentences. His word choice and topic weren’t bad, either. Well -they were bad, but they weren’t …nevermind.

If you need more excellent stories of embarrassment, here are the remaining poems:

I had wet my Kickers

by willowdot21

There I was petrified
By the radiator refusing to budge
Poor little me only five
I had wet my knickers

By the radiator refusing to budge
The Nuns cajoled my peers nudged
I had wet my kickers
My dress was marked my face was red.

The Nuns cajoled my peers nudged
I stood firm I would not budge
My dress was marked my face was red.
I was ashamed, wished I was dead

I stood firm I would not budge
Until sister Josephine pulled me away.
I was ashamed, wished I was dead .
The embarrassment lives on still in my head!

Until Sister Josephine pulled me away
I thought that I could cope
The embarrassment lives on inside my head
There I was petrified.

—–

Embarrassment

by Ruth

Embarrassment sears hot on my face
Skin throbbing bright in deep red flush
Awkwardness lit up in gaudy neon lights
Drawing attention like a burning beacon…

Skin throbbing bright in deep red flush
All eyes turn on my squirming discomfort
Drawing attention like a burning beacon
Highlighting my humiliated soul…

All eyes turn on my squirming discomfort
Awkwardness lit up in gaudy neon lights
Highlighting my humiliated soul
Embarrassment sears hot on my face…

—–

Untitled

by Not Pam

I’ve had my share of embarrassment
I remember when I was six
My family went to see Star Wars
I ran out of the toilet undies round ankles.

I remember when I was six
Brother and cousin up to their tricks
I ran out of the toilet undies round ankles
They rolled jaffa’s down the aisle without a care

Brother and cousin up to their tricks
My family went to see Star Wars
They rolled jaffa’s down the aisle without a care
I’ve had my share of embarrassment

—–

Bust A Move

by Obbverse

After I’d turned to her for one lousy dance
I was left gasping, so long and red of face,
Away she stepped, after high-arched glance
With effortless entitled aristocratic grace.

I was left, gasping, so long and red of face,
Sorrowfully I watched her pertly depart
With effortless entitled aristocratic grace
Stilettos driving deep into my bitter heart.

Sorrowfully I watched her pertly depart,
She’d put me back in my place and class,
Stilettos driving deep into my bitter heart
When she slipped and fell flat on her ass.

She’d put me back in my place and class
But as the titters began to grow apace
When she slipped and fell flat on her ass
I was left gasping, SO long, and red of face.

—–

Embarrassing frustrating experiences with effective argumentation

by Frank Hubeny

“The earth is blue! The earth is black!”
“No, it ain’t! No, it ain’t!”
“The earth is round and pancake flat!”
“No, it ain’t! No, it ain’t!”

“No, it ain’t! No, it ain’t”
“The earth is round and pancake flat!”
“No, it ain’t! No, it ain’t!”
“The earth is blue! The earth is black!

—————–

It ain’t.

It is.

It ain’t. It ain’t. It ain’t. IT AIN’T!

It is. It is. It…(swat).

—–

Thank you, you amazing poets, you! Come back tomorrow to learn next week’s prompt.

Matt: Here’s the honorary badge you can post as proof of your poetic mastery:

terrible-poetry-contest

©2022 The poets, and their respective poems.

The Terrible Poetry Contest

Welcome to the weekly Terrible Poetry Contest!

Terrible poetry isn’t that difficult. If you want to know the best way to go about it, read HERE. If you don’t care, you’ve already skimmed over this paragraph and butterflies will take over the world someday.

So, here are the specifics:

  1. Last week’s winner, Geoff, has decided on the Topic of embarrassment, written as a pantoum. According to poets.org, “The pantoum is a poem of any length, composed of four-line stanzas in which the second and fourth lines of each stanza serve as the first and third lines of the next stanza. The last line of a pantoum is often the same as the first.” (See below, for a visual outline.)
  2. It sounds like the Length must be at least two stanzas. Where you go from there is up to you and your junior high crush.
  3. Rhyming is optional.
  4. Like any good embarrassing story, make it terrible! Make us squirm in our chairs at the over-applied makeup and out-of-style outfit you wore to the wrong night of your crush’s birthday party when her overprotective father opened the door and then you were the reason she got grounded for a month so she never spoke to you again but you just ran into her at the grocery store… Literally. Your car insurance has now gone up.
  5. Rating: PG-13 or cleaner.
© University of Waterloo

You have till 8:00 a.m. MST next Thursday (February 10) to submit a poem.

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

For a more social experience, include your poem or a link to it in the comments. Please alert me if your pingback or poem does not show up within a day.

The winner gains bragging rights, a badge, and the option to choose the next week’s topic and type of poem.

Photo by Anna Shvets from Pexels

—–

©2022 Chel Owens

WINNER of the Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest 2/3/2022

Matt Snyder of Prolific Potpourri introduced a very fun challenge for this week’s contest, a Golden Shovel form on the theme of the family pet. Who rose to the challenge the worst best?

Why, it was:

Dog Love Made Manifest

“How Do I Love Thee, Let Me Count The Ways” by EB Browning

by TanGental

I do wonder HOW
I let you get away with it. I lose concentration and you go and DO
A poo. I
‘m probably listening to a podcast when some little old lady says, ‘LOVE,
He’s crapped over here.’ She expects me to pick it up. ‘YOU
Sure?’ I ask because I’m blowed if I can see it in the leaves. You’ll LET
ME
Take the blame if I don’t pick something up. I’ve lost COUNT
Of THE
Times I’ve had to pretend for you, but I always forgive you your funny little WAYS.

—–

Congratulations, Geoff! You are the most terrible poet of the week! Now you get to pick the type of poem and theme for next week!

If I thought choosing a winner last week was difficult, this round proved even more so! I had a solid three poems I thought tied for first. Geoff’s stood out for how blatantly terrible he was at following directions, how wonderfully he mimicked serious poetry with his line breaks, and for my being able to picture some poor British dear saying, “Love, he’s crapped over there.”

These were all quite funny. What a fun theme to write to:

To Fred

“Some say the world will end in fire” Robert Frost, Fire and Ice

by Frank Hubeny

Those free-range hens and their rooster loved to tease you. They knew how long your chain was by the dead grass around your doghouse. They waddled up and wiggled their butts in your face until you lunged at them. Some

say

the

birds deserved what they got. Like a fool I unsnapped your chain thinking that you had led me downhill a mile into the woods for some bonding time You had this all planned out. They thought their world

against your wrath and will

was secure and would never end

and it wouldn’t have except I unsnapped your chain deep in

the woods and witlessly let your hatred fire.

—–

Donna Kitty Kitty

Based On Lord Byron’s “Don Juan Canto The Ninth”

by Deb, who is Not Pam

There was a cat who desired Fame

In its very many grand and extreme Ways

Kitty Kitty (Or as originally named Princess) was her Name

She declared this was a Phrase

Ok she meant phase, but Lord Byron is dictating this poem, so same, Same

She did tremendous things to gain Praise

Like rolling around on her back with a miaow, but some Gainsay

That Kitty’s desire for fame was a Nay Nay

—–

The Admirable Persistence of Tortoises

“How Do I Love Thee, Let Me Count The Ways” by EB Browning

by TanGental

My Tortoise, Vicky has various WAYS
Of escaping from my garden. The HEIGHT
Of the fence is no barrier. The SIGHT
Of her hauling herself isn’t exactly GRACE-
-Ful and it might take her several DAYS
To recover. She does tend to make LIGHT
Of the strain; her knees are shot and her RIGHT
Elbow needs some rest, but she thrives on PRAISE.
Whatever I say, it really is no USE
I can’t see her stopping now and her FAITH
In her awesome abilities to LOSE
The shackles of gravity take my BREATH
Away. I believe it is noble to CHOOSE
Her freedom over capture; that was is DEATH.

—–

CINNAMON OH SNATCHER OF HATS

After Percy Bysshe Shelly “Music, when soft voices die”

by Matt Snyder

My bark was that of which soothing ear of Music,
Thinking back I was with them when?
My beautiful brown fur to the touch be soft
The neighboring howls, rejoice in their voices
That rodent, that Squirrel who we, us despise must die,
An exit defeated this collar it Vibrates
Oh, but who is that peering in?
It’s my young master Matt wearing a hat, that walk in the park the memory—
Roadkill to rub in with wonderous Odours,
if not now when?
Lost in dog park thoughts and that for which his hat looks sweet
Do not be deterred by the beauty of the garden of violets
I leap, I snatch, poor little boy his hat in my mouth,I am victorious master Matt begins to sicken.

—–

Untitled

Philip Larkin, and his classic ‘This be the verse’, let’s use the first line……

by Gary

His best buddy is a seriously fat cat, it’s far too quiet, where are THEY

They have just pulled the curtain off the wall, what the F**K

Now it’s on the floor, covered in hairs, well Thank YOU

Captain now thinks it’s great fun to try to hump the cat, that’s seriously messed UP

Even The Cap knows you can’t end a sentence with a possessive determiner like YOUR

But he is a clever dog with a great pedigree, a beautiful white Spitz is his MUM

He gets his intelligence, looks, fluffy hair and cunning from her AND

being a right ruffian, rogue, rascal and rampantly randy from his Cocker Spaniel DAD

—–

Thank you, you amazing poets, you! Come back tomorrow to learn next week’s prompt.

Geoff: Here’s the honorary badge you can post as proof of your poetic mastery (I’ll fix the URL later):

terrible-poetry-contest

©2022 The poets, and their respective poems.