Acrostic isn’t my favorite ‘form’ for poetry, but can function as a framework for trying to shape a poem. Try it out; especially consider trying it out for my latest Anyone Can Poem challenge at Carrot Ranch!
Ah, the classic comeuppance due to the deserving braggart; the fall after the pride; the karma to one’s hubris -this was the theme for this week’s amusing writers.
Only one rose above the rest to claim the dubious honor of funniest, and that was:
Untitled, by D. Wallace Peach When the fireworks failed to ignite The smoker asked for a light With a big inhale The swaggering male Set off to light up the night
He applied his cig without care Smug when the fuse caught and flared An arrogant rube He peered down the tube And the night lit up with his hair
Congratulations, D. Wallace! You are the funniest poet for the week! I would be outright lying if I didn’t say that several of these poems made me laugh out loud. The illustrious Madame Peach’s poem won for her hilarious imagery, excellent vocabulary, and humorous take on the prompt.
I really did enjoy all of these. I hope you do as well:
Untitled, by Frank Hubeny While waiting to win the award I got tired. The judges got bored. They forgot to choose me. Did they look? Did they see? Well, they looked, then I looked how I scored.
Untitled, by Deb Whittam Debbie went for a run She boasted that it was fun But she didn’t expect to slip on a bun And pull a ligament in her bum
Untitled, by Trent McDonald Stan sniffed as people froze in fear And strode right by, nose in the air His haughtiness so keen That the dragon wasn’t seen So he walked straight into the lair
Untitled, by Trent McDonald Bob laughed at the custodian, Jed Because of the things that he said “Be careful in the mill For those machines can kill!” Not listening, Bob lost his head
Untitled, by Dumbestblogger At carnivals the rides are fine But games are really quite sublime Fred sent the ball full eight feet high Joe laughed and said “I’ll make it nine!” He picked the hammer up with glee Missed the lever, hit his spleen He aimed to send the ball up nine Now six feet under Joe does lie
A Slight Misunderstanding, by Writerinretrospect “I’m sure we can survive it,” Said the vampire to his friend; “Oh, no,” the friend replied, “I’d rather stay undead.” “It’s not that far,” Came the reply, “There’s no reason to quake.” And so across the street the dyslexic went To find himself a steak.
Route One, by Obbverse He finally staggered triumphantly atop Mount Everest Exhausted but immensely proud of his sky high climb, Standing back to take in the view and a moments rest He went from pinnacle to Ground Zero in record time.
Billy, by Hobbo Billy bighead, a bit of a boaster Invented the world’s largest toaster One day he fell in it And in less than a minute His head was as flat as a coaster.
An Untitled (for reasons unknown) Limerick, by Michael Fishman This handsome young man was in love, well not totally, but kinda sort of. He kneeled down to propose, something tickled his nose, and he blew boogers on her from below and above.
Thanks for playing!! Return tomorrow for next week’s prompt.
D., here’s a badge for you to use on your site. Congratulations!
Greetings, poets! Ready to laugh? You’re in the right place!
These are the specifics:
What could possibly be funnier than accident by hubris? The inevitable fall because of overconfident pride? The trip of the boastful athlete? The …well, you get it.
I don’t want Length to interfere with your style, but I recommend short, sweet, and snappy. A limerick might be perfect.
Rhyming’s up to you and your form.
Keep the RatingPG or cleaner.
With the tragic fall comes the chance for tears, so be sure we’re laughing as our hero fails. I also request, if you choose political, that you do not stoop to personal insults -remember that everyone is someone’s son or daughter.
You have till 10:00 a.m. MST next Friday (October 16) to submit a poem.
Use the form below to stay anonymous for a week.
Otherwise, for a more social experience, include your poem or a link to it in the comments. Drop a comment if you try to link back and it doesn’t show up within a day.
Spring or Autumn’s in the air, and our poetmasters clearly could not resist penning an ode or haiku or whoknowswhatthehecktheywerewriting to the seasons. Despite the thrills or chills or desirestorunforthehills they gave, only one walked away as champion.
I had great fun reading all these poems! WIR’s struck me as winner above all because of its succinct terribleness; its abbreviated awfulness. This poem addressed the subject, appeared to verse seriously by its form, then proved quite silly after all.
But, that hardly discounts the rest. I laughed aloud at their cleverness, and know you also will:
The mercury is falling
I hope it’s just a cold
Is it destiny that’s calling?
Or part of getting old?
Is it just a shiver?
Or might it be a curse?
That Autumn will deliver
Or will Winter be much worse?
A month of isolation
My social distance getting broad
I’m here for the duration
Already getting bored
There’s bad news in the paper
The TV’s on the blink
I fear the isolator
Might turn this man to drink
My Mama and my Papa
They left here just in time
I cough. I sneeze. I splutter
I’ve been cut down in my prime
So all the sky is grey
And all the leaves are brown
There’s nothing left to say
‘Cause there’s no one left in town
And I want extra points deducted for the blatant theft of ‘California Dreaming’ lyrics.
Autumn is comin
But I’ll still be runnin
2 metres from you
Hey lets go to the zoo
See the bats
Drown the rats
Walk the dogs
Bring in the hogs
Leaves are fallin
Winter will come a callin
But we’ll all be in lockdown
So I’ll be up at four
Runnin’ so you can’t see me
After fornicating earlier for all they’re worth
in the Spring the animals give birth
Owls spawn owlets
Cows spawn cowlets
if it is comprised of both halves)
Bees pollinate the colorful blooms
Hibernating bears check out of their rooms
Reproduction is that upon which all of nature is built
Didn’t have youngsters? Enjoy your guilt!
The season of Spring
is just about my favorite thing
Although you can bet your bautumn
I prefer Autumn
As the calendula ticks (not to be confused with cattle ticks)
over to the March of the sugar plum fairies
I vow to turn over a new leaf.
But I am de-feated
By the myriad discarded oak appendages
carpet-snaking to my door.
There must be some way out of here
I thought in disbelief.
There’s too much confusion.
I can’t get on relief.
So I sprang forward through
a hole in the daylight-saving curtain
and found, to my re-leaf,
rabbits eating my lettuce seedlings.
Leaves is green,
Summers peachy keen.
Leaves turn yellow,
Mortifies this fellow.
Leaves is red,
Soon be dead.
Winter draws close,
Leaves me morose.
Grey day after day
Springs so far away.
When that wintery sun’s shining
I cain’t see no silvery lining.
A flower flowered
Outside of my door
I knew it must be spring!
I sprang outside
Birds and buds on trees!
It reminded me I need a six-pack
But never mind
The birds on trees!
I go inside
Wash the bird excrement off
I shut the curtains
I open a Bud
When will winter be here again!?!
Spring? Yeah, right
by Geoff LePard
(follow the link for lovely pictures of Geoff’s garden as well)
Watch them unfurl in the fragileility of spring,
Opening our eyes allowing us to dream.
Sun scoots low to expose streaked windows
and stained tablecloths that soap failled to clean.
Dust motes dance without rythm or beat,
As the light stings our eyes and warms our feet.
lettuce and sweatpeas sprout in soil filled pots
With dafdodills normality comes in restless spots.
But do not be fooled enough to blink or sigh
For Jack with pointy fingers and lazer eyes
Sends snapping frosts throughout night skies.
Burns lime green leaves as black as Magpies eyes
Stomps on plants with leadend boots.
Its plan is clear to freeze the shoots.
Now our gardens spoilled
spring hadn’t sprung
So we begin again
Long have the halls been silent,
The chairs empty, the locker doors thrown open.
Long have the weeds grown,
Unchecked, through the days of winter, cold and dull.
Long has the toilets been clean,
The stains and smears of adolescence finally washed away.
Peace has reigned.
As the bell sounds for the first time,
The rodents, the cleaners, the teachers,
Grimace their despair.
Congratulations, Deb! You are the most terrible poet of the week!
Many poets’ works made me grimace today, but Deb’s stood out. She made me believe I was reading a serious poem, then artfully threw the meter off course whilst adding elements like rodents and “smears of adolescence” in there.
But the terrible poetry doesn’t stop there! Read the others, if you are able:
I just dropped my pencil
I made the teacher
Don’t be blue
I know I took advantage
Of the teacher who’s new
He sent my butt home
For my mother to chew
Don’t be mad
Only nine months to summer
Then we’ll be glad
What’s she mean
It won’t be the worst nine months
She ever had….
Hello Everyone! Welcome back to school!
Murray, SIDDOWN N SHUDDUP!
Paula, I hope your summer time was cool!
Wayne, SIDDOWN N SHUDDUP!
Shirley, you’re acting like a fool.
Frank, SIDDOWN N SHUDDUP!
William, you’re full of bull.
Jeanette, SIDDOWN N SHUDDUP!
Winifred, no you can’t; it’s against the rule.
Neil, SIDDOWN N SHUDDUP!
Oh for goodness sake! I can’t wait for the Christmas break when we celebrate Yule.
EVERYONE! SIDDOWN N SHUDDUP!
Let’s see who does the bester
In this first semester.
YOU’RE HERE TO LEARN SO SIDDOWN N SHUDDUP!
Is it really back to school
In that uniform so uncool
Do I have to Combe my hair
I’m not allowed to rock in my chair
Come again, I have to get up at Half past Six
Then get on the school bus with the other lunatics
Have to eat a healthy school lunch
And in the class I’m not allowed to munch
I have to learn my nine times tables
And I need to write my name on all the coat labels
I’m not allowed to pick my nose
While having to write boring prose
Not allowed to play games of my mobile phone
And if the teacher shouts I’m not allowed to moan
Must not run and play along the school corridors
And no pulling funny faces at the other choristers
When I ask a question I must raise my hand
Even when in Latin it’s impossible to understand
I have to fully button up my school shirt
Always keep the blazer on to hide all the dirt
Not supposed to throw objects at the head-boy
Be nice to your classmates and certainly don’t annoy
On no grounds can I fight or swear
Don’t attack the other kids with the set square
Need to pick my feet up so no scrapping only the floorboards
And certainly I’m not supposed to do rude doodles on the blackboards
I HATE SCHOOL……