Tag Limerick

WINNER of the Terrible Poetry Contest 5/25/2023

Chel Owens 28 Comments

What’s cheesier than a Vermont Cheddar? This month’s terrible poetry contest, of course! Matt, last time’s winner, suggested we write a limerick about the dairy product in question, and here are the winners:

Terror at the table

by DA Whittam

Vermont Cheddar Cheese was such a sleaze
Wheezed, seized, breezed, he’s enough to make one weak at the knees
Eyeing him disdainfully did nothing to ease
The fears his presence could not appease
Here, grab the skis and the keys, I’ll disappear into the trees.

—–

The Gambler

by seahorsecoffeeelektra79018

He was a good old egg who liked to gamble,
He never stopped talking, oh how he rambled.
One nasty night he lost his shirt. He got drunk.
He fell in the dirt. Now he’s a good old egg
Who’s somewhat broken and completely scrambled.

—–

Congratulations, DA and seahorsecoffeeelektra79018! You are the most terrible poets this month! We’re taking a summer sabbatical until September; but you’re both welcome to tell me a theme and form for next time, in the comments.

For the record, I’m going to sound like a broken record: all contestants did TERRIBLY. (I mean, that is the point of the contest, right?) I read over all the poems, snickered, read them again, snickered again, then could NOT decide who to crown as victor. DA and shce#’s contributions won by a hair -and, I realized, the same level of hair. I loved DA’s incessant rhyming and broken form; I loved sea’s broken form and mostly-rhyme. Plus, as was with all the submissions, they were terrible.

What a way to end (for now) on a high note! Enjoy reading:

Untitled

by TanGental

If I can no longer enjoy my cheese
Then would you put me at my ease:
Stop me crying,
Assist my dying:
Take my throat and give it a squeeze…

—–

Shredding The Cheddar

by Obbverse

I pondered on this tasteless topic blankly…
Because Vermont Cheddar stinks, and rankly,
There is the ripe question
Of long lingering indigestion,
I’d rather Brie or Philadelphia, frankly.

—–

Untitled

by Frank Hubeny

There once was a cheesy old cheddar
who never got under the weather. (pronounce this “wedder”)
Vermont Cheddar’s the name
of long-standing good fame
since tomorrow it tastes even better. (pronounce this “bedder”)

—–

Untitled

by Dumbestblogger

There once was a brave little cheddar
Who thought it was oh so much better
Than gouda or brie
Then it started to sneeze
For tickled it was with a feather

—–

Dairy in the air

by Michael B. Fishman

Her breath smelled like Vermont cheddar cheese,
so when she said, “Boy, won’t you come kiss me please.”
I just squeezed shut my sniffer
and dreamed of Aniston, you know, Jennifer,
and gave her lips a soft gentle squeeze.

—–

Untitled

by Ordinary Person

I’ve decided to give up cheese
especially Vermont Cheddar cheese
Why? What do you know about life?
Isn’t it full of strife?
I hate you Vermont Cheddar Cheese.

—–

A Stupid and Completely Fictious Story About Cheese, Jews, and Halachic Process

by Jewish Young Professional “JYP”

There once was a new kind of cheese
Where the protein was made out of peas.
The rabbis said, “No way!? (whey?)
Is this really okay?!?
To decide, we must use our rabbinic degrees.”

But the rabbis disliked intellectual work,
So they banned it, like they did Impossible Pork.
“We think banning is better –
Besides, this tastes like Vermont Cheddar,
And we prefer cheeses made in New York.”

Then came Shavuot holiday
Chief rabbi ate dairy all night and all day.
He produced so much gas
And hot air from his ass,
The chief rabbi up and floated away!

The rabbis said, “As much as we do not want,
To admit our Head Rabbi was intolerant
Of milk, lactose, and whey,
Guess we’ll say it’s ok
To eat that weird vegan cheese from Vermont!”

—–

Green Mountain Gold

by Greg

From Vermont came a cheddar, behold
Legend has it, one heck of a mold
Big cheese curd not forstall
The coming Woodchuck brawl.
For a chance to taste Green Mountain gold.

—–

Thank you, terrible poets. Maybe come back in September to see what the next prompt is!

Deb and seahorse: Here’s your slightly-inaccurate badge you can post as proof of your poetic mastery:

terrible-poetry-contest

©2023 The poets, and their respective poems.

LIMERICK! -for the Terrible Poetry Contest

Chel Owens 10 Comments

There once was a poem, started thus;
Without thought, snacks, or fuss.
The poet, with ease
Never even mentioned Vermont cheese,
Yet wrote it for the Terrible Poetry contest. (Oh. Um -forgot to rhyme-) “Us!”

©2023 Chel Owens

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Seriously. Terrible-poeming isn’t as difficult as you think. Write something up and enter this month’s contest. You have till Thursday of this week (loosely). Then, we won’t be holding the contest again till September.

The Terrible Poetry Contest 5/4/2023

Chel Owens 59 Comments

Hello, there. Welcome to the Terrible Poetry Contest for May, 2023. This will be the last contest before the host (presumably) resumes operations in September.

Haven’t heard about our esteemed ‘competition’ before? Read this post. We’re out to make-fun, but also have fun!

M won March’s contest. Here are the parameters he named for this month:

  1. Theme and Form
    Rest easy, guys. We’re doing a limerick about Vermont Cheddar Cheese.
    We’ve done limericks before, many times. A description of the form can be found at this link.
  2. Length
    Unlike cheddar, a limerick doesn’t take long. It’s five lines in anapestic trimeter.
  3. Rhyme?
    Cheese with ease, and rhyme the lines of AABBA this time.
  4. Terrible?
    Aging is an art, one applied best to solid dairy products one spreads on crackers. Terrible poetry, not so much. Make yours as tasteless as you’d like.
  5. Rating
    M didn’t say one, but I’m guessing he’s fine with anything. Anything, you hear? It is a limerick, after all…

You have till 8:00 a.m. MST on Thursday, May 25 to submit a poem.

Use the form below if you want to be anonymous until I post the results. The form hasn’t saved what you submitted unless you see a message saying it has.

Or, for a cheesier 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 pick of next contest’s theme and form.

—–

Image by Blossom Blackwell from Pixabay. There’s probably Vermont Cheddar on that plate.

©2023 Chel Owens

WINNER of the Terrible Poetry Contest 11/30/2022

Chel Owens 24 Comments

November’s prompt for terribly poeming was brought to you by Jon of Missionary Sojourn, the winner of September’s contest. Jon suggested a clean limerick on lost and found. Without losing another minute, then, let’s find the one who limerick’d best:

Untitled

by TanGental

All hope’s gone, all is lost.
She loves me, she loves me nost.
I gave her flowers. a sort of red.
They had thorns, so she bled
Out. Now she’s a gost…

—–

Congratulations, TanGental! You are the most terrible poet this month! Let me know what theme and form we’re to use next time.

You may be wondering how I chose a winner out of such excellent entries. I’ll tell you: I don’t know. I’m also wondering how I picked, given that most entries tied for cleverness and included some distinctive element. I believe the winner won me over with that broken/continued line of ‘bled/out’ and with his terrible word choice.

Again; that’s not to say one should only read the winning entry. Peruse all the poetry, below, and see which is your favorite:

Grumpy

by RuthScribbles

There once was a grumpy old man
He lost his way to the can
He turned on the light
And had a huge fright
He’d found a coon and away he did ran

—–

Untitled

by Ian Kay

I’ve gone lost the end of my limerick
I didn’t know whether I’m dim or thick
I looked down the sofa
But nothin’ yet so far
So how will I finish this poem?

—–

Untitled

by Ian Kay

A man got a message, it read:
There’s something on the back of yer head!
He put his hand there
But only found hair
And that was the end of the thread

—–

Lost Meat

by John W. Howell

There once was a man from New York,
Who purchased two tons of dead pork.
He wished he had found,
Good beef that was ground.
But lost his chance to a quick dork.

—–

Larry the monkey

by Soberbunny

I once had a monkey named Larry,
He liked to bite and was hairy,
One day in the park,
He escaped after dark,
And now he belongs to Mary.

—–

Untitled

by Richmond Road

I was aimlessly fooling around
When I fell from my boat and then drowned
Deprived thus of breath
Woke in life after death
Simultaneously lost and yet found

—–

Untitled

by Doug Jacquier

There once was a man from Straya
As a walker he was a fair dinkum stayer
Went past the Black Stump and beyond it
Got lost, fell into a billabong, it
Was a shame his swimming was a failure.

Glossary
Straya – rendition of ‘Australia’ by many Australians, similar to Americans who live in ‘Mecca’
Fair dinkum – genuine
Black Stump – mythical far distant place where civilisation ends (along with American spelling) and the unknown begins
Billabong – an isolated pond left behind after a river changes course

—–

Untitled

by Frank Hubeny

There once was a writer of verse
Who got lost as his writing got worse.
He was found by the bay
Singing songs of dismay:
La-dee-loose la-dee-lease la-dee-terse

—–

Lost Cause

by Obbverse

Write a clean limerick, they promptly said!
But I’ve found clean limericks are rarely read,
A limerick ploughs common ground,
Within limericks innuendoes abound,
Something gets lost if cheeks ain’t left red.

—–

A Boy Named Luck

by Greg

There once was a boy named Luck
Whose folks didn’t give a… HOOT.
“Go jump off da pier
‘n don’t come back ‘roun’ere!”
But they didn’t have that kinda luck.

—–

The Ring

by Greg

He brought out the champagne with a blush,
“Bottoms up!” It was down in a rush.
Before he could sing,
She’d swallowed the ring,
Now they gather to scrutinize each flush.

—–

Photo by Andrea Piacquadio on Pexels.com

Thank you, terrible poets. Come back at the beginning of January to learn what the new prompt will be!

Geoff: Here’s your slightly-inaccurate badge you can post as proof of your poetic mastery:

terrible-poetry-contest

©2022 The poets, and their respective poems. Special thanks to Greg for the cool logo I used as our featured image!

Terrible Poetry: Lost Limerick

Chel Owens 33 Comments

I never can find mi loosed stuff
Cuz loosed stuff is finding is tuff
So instead i just right
something thats not write
And forget i ever lost my basal ganglia.

©2022 Chel Owens

Ah, I couldn’t help it. You should write something even better for the Terrible Poetry Contest; it supposedly ends on the 30th, but I hear the judge isn’t exactly on top of things this week and you’ll not hear about a winner till Saturday…

Photo by Anna Shvets on Pexels.com

The Terrible Poetry Contest 11/2022

Chel Owens 47 Comments

Welcome to yet another Terrible Poetry Contest!

Everyone thinks he/she/it is a poet; some actually are. We don’t care because we’re here to beat the worst of them! Terrible poem-ing isn’t about humor as a subject. It isn’t about writing about a terrible subject. In fact, it isn’t even about writing an acrostic poem with the word ‘TERRIBLE.’ Confused? Here is a post I wrote to explain. I recommend reading it, ignoring it completely, then rearranging the ingredients list for your laxative medication and posting that as an entry.

Jon of Missionary Sojourn won last month, so here are his instructions for this month’s contest:

  1. Theme and Form
    The theme is “Lost and/or Found.” The form is …wait for it… my favorite: a limerick. Furthermore, it’s a CLEAN limerick.
  2. Length
    Limericks have a specific form and length. It is AABBA, where the A’s are 8ish syllables and the B’s are 5ish syllables (and the A’s all rhyme with each other while the B’s rhyme with the B’s). We’ve written limericks before; so, if you’ve lost those posts, they can be found here. Or, you can find an outline, elsewhere, online.
  3. Rhyme?
    Yes. First, second, and fifth rhyme one way; and third and fourth rhyme another.
  4. Terrible!
    Please, please, please write a terrible poem. Make anyone searching for beauty seriously reconsider their life choices in finding our contest.
  5. Rating
    G or cleaner. You heard me.

You have till 8:00 a.m. MST on Wednesday, November 30 to submit a poem.

Use the form below if you want to be anonymous until I post the results. The form hasn’t saved what you submitted unless you see a message saying it has.

Or, 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 pick of next contest’s theme and form.

—–

©2022 Chel Owens

Photo by Andrea Piacquadio on Pexels.com

Need more pointers? Jon’s included an example:

It seems that I’ve lost my keys
And hunt as long as I please
Like the wayward sock
That the dryer has got
I’m beginning to wonder, “Why me?”

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

Chel Owens 6 Comments

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

Chel Owens 48 Comments

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

Two Poems for the Proud

Chel Owens 22 Comments

Young Simon put everyone down
With insults and pointings and frowns.
Himself, he adored –
For a date, he implored;
Yet, ev’ry girl turned that jerk down.

Photo by Isaiah Rustad on Unsplash

—–

“Look at me,” cried the balancing girl
As, on rooftop, she walked with arms whirled.
Despite your assumption,
Her balance resumption-ed,
And she, once on ground, died by squirrel.

Photo by Man Dy on Pexels.com

©2020 Chel Owens

Like what you read? Wanna write one, too? Go ahead, then submit it for this week’s A Mused Poetry Contest!! The deadline is tomorrow morning.