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Poetry so bad your eyes will water

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posted on Jun, 16 2006 @ 05:15 PM
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Woohoo! A 4.0!

My poem sucked, neener, neener, neener.


I feel so proud.


Even though I'm probably going to Hell now.




posted on Jun, 17 2006 @ 03:09 AM
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I've been away for a few days and missed some truly dreadful poems. Beers all round especially to Duzey who seems scarily good at this bad poetry business.

Anyway, I've been rummaging around in the Kedfr Archives and I found this little gem. I even dated it 6th June 1996 so it recently celebrated its 10th birthday. I think that I was striving for a new genre of poetry; a fusion of Vogon and William McGonnagall. I called this work, Fool's Paradise...

Fool's Paradise

I yearn and I ache and I plead
And an eternal sickness
Follows my constant need:
Me, following a shimmering light
That withers in this joyless gloom
Watching her (out of sight)
I repeat, "Not now, it's too soon."

She smiles and darkness subsides
Lulling me towards the chimera
Blonde candle: fool's gold
You don't want to know me
And you never will.

Instead I will only ever sleep with the night
These candles always fall to the wick:
Today I saw you with someone else, someone new
And your golden smile larger
Than if you were with me.



posted on Jun, 17 2006 @ 03:13 AM
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The boy stood on the burning deck
his legs were all a quiver
he had a cough,his ass fell off
and floated down the river...


there was a young boy from dundee.
who slipped on a pound of butter,
when asked''did it hurt'?
said''not very much,it was greasy''



posted on Jun, 17 2006 @ 03:26 AM
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You have been officially awarded the William McGonnagall award for bad poetry


Where to start kedfr, where to start. You fit into all the right categories: melodrama, angst, lack of humour or awareness. Actually I'm not going to say anything more and let ppl enjoy it for its own merits. But can I just say how stalkerly this poem is? Right up there with the Police's, 'Every breathe I take'.

As Queenannie said, you have the best last lines.

You know, I just realised that best 'earnest' poetry has both a date and a name, as if the poet really envisioned it would live onto posterity.



posted on Jun, 17 2006 @ 03:54 AM
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Originally posted by nikelbee
You have been officially awarded the William McGonnagall award for bad poetry


Thank you nikelbee for this honour. I wouldn't be here today without two people. Firstly the great Mr McGonnagall who has been such an inspiration throughout my career. Secondly, I have to thank the nameless blonde woman who I stalked mercilously for about a week at university until I asked her out, she said no and I lost all interest. This award goes to you blondie!


Originally posted by nikelbee

You know, I just realised that best 'earnest' poetry has both a date and a name, as if the poet really envisioned it would live onto posterity.


There's not just a date, there's a time too: 9pm-10.30. I must have time/date stamped it so that when my poetry was published (note the 'when' not 'if' nor 'maybe') I could point back to that exact moment and say there - that there was the time when I wrote this masterpiece. I think I had visions of Lennon/McCartney lyrics being scribbled onto the back of a cigarette packet being sold for thousands of pounds at auction. Incidently, if you write everything on computer how will Sotherby's make their money in future?

"And here is the Amstrad 2086 where Kedfr wrote his 'Fool's Paradise' in 1996. Note the blue background of Wordperfect 5.1, the coffee stain on the keyboard and the extensive collection of dubious photos hidden away in the falsely named 'sys_files' directory. I start the bidding at £10,000 ... £15,000 ... £20,000..."

[edit on 17-6-2006 by kedfr]



posted on Jun, 17 2006 @ 04:05 AM
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What? An WHOLE hour and a half to come up with that gem? Priceless.

I like your sense of humour kedfr. I'll start the bidding for ' Fool's Paradise' at 2 pounds only if you throw in the Amstrad.

I must ask (although you don't have to answer) was this 'golden candle' the same person as the duck poem girl? I enquire because the duck card has a 'frozen heart upon uncaring lake of ice' motif and this one is more of a 'hot candle flame of misshapened passion'. I'm wondering if all your poetry runs so hot and cold.



posted on Jun, 17 2006 @ 04:19 AM
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Originally posted by nikelbee
What? An WHOLE hour and a half to come up with that gem? Priceless.


Yes - I can't quite believe I spent 90 minutes on it either - just think of all the other things I could have done in that time - watch a film or a football match, run a half-marathon or even study for the exams I was taking at the time. But somehow in that short period of time I managed to compose 'Fool's Paradise'. I think in reflection that the time spent on my candle poem was spent - at least I can die happy, safe in the knowledge that I have contributed to the great works of English poetry.


Originally posted by nikelbeeI like your sense of humour kedfr. I'll start the bidding for ' Fool's Paradise' at 2 pounds only if you throw in the Amstrad.


The Amstrad's still around somewhere and I believe it still works. You can say what you like about Sir Alan's products but a 17 year old PC still going strong is some acheivement...


Originally posted by nikelbeeI must ask (although you don't have to answer) was this 'golden candle' the same person as the duck poem girl? I enquire because the duck card has a 'frozen heart upon uncaring lake of ice' motif and this one is more of a 'hot candle flame of misshapened passion'. I'm wondering if all your poetry runs so hot and cold.


No I'm afraid not. Hey what can I say - it was university - a time of free love and even freer poetry: I flitted around from woman to woman to stalk and get all angsty over. Fortunately though, blondie never saw the bad poetry I wrote for her. No such luck on the duck girl though - she saw my bad duck poetry in all its glory I'm afraid. I don't think it was a co-incidence that she became a Christian shortly afterwards - my Vogonesque scribblings are enough to make anyone want to turn to God...

[edit on 17-6-2006 by kedfr]



posted on Jun, 17 2006 @ 06:41 AM
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Originally posted by AGENT_T
The boy stood on the burning deck
his legs were all a quiver
he had a cough,his ass fell off
and floated down the river...


The more I read this the more I think, YES, this is a BAD poem... Also, it unrealistically silly even for a metaphor. Would a cough, even a big one, cause someone's posterior to simply 'fall off' and float downstream? What if the posterior was of the healthy JLO variety, as in masqua's poem, 'Oh girl', would it still float? Or sink like a wooden duck? And you didn't elaborate, but did the boy just stand there watching his backside be carried away by the river? Did he run after it? Did he at least shout for help?

Thank God for flu shots I say.



posted on Jun, 27 2006 @ 02:41 AM
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Took a big dump on the floor
And smeared it in the carpet,
Trying to make a point
Yet not in reality,
In mockery.
But of whom?
Me?
You?
IMOH IDK??????????



posted on Jun, 28 2006 @ 11:04 AM
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Xeros

Thank you for that contribution to the Stinky poetry forum. I was however lost when you went into acronynm overdrive.

Pray tell, what does it mean? I'm afraid I'm acro impaired...an injury from my childhood days when I drank Tang and wanted to join the space programme.



posted on Jul, 1 2006 @ 11:04 PM
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i like cheese
spring makes bees
i like eggs
i hang clothes on pegs
i like toast
for that i wont boast
i aslo like a good roast


or
you tell me



posted on Jul, 1 2006 @ 11:07 PM
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hey did u notice the lasttwo posts were
5:04 am and 5:04 pm



posted on Jul, 4 2006 @ 06:47 AM
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Originally posted by eyeblack42
i like cheese
spring makes bees
i like eggs
i hang clothes on pegs
i like toast
for that i wont boast
i aslo like a good roast


or
you tell me


Eyeblack - thanks for posting. It reminds me a little of a Dr. Seuss poem gone wrong. Believe it or not, the beloved children's writer had some pretty bad poetry he could have happily posted on this thread.

Here is an example of his early work. It is called 'Untitled poem' and I think I know why.




If my Daddy hadn't met up with my mommy,
I'd have missed this fine party tonight...
If my daddy had shacked up with somebody else,
just supposing, for instance Miss Abigail Schmelz, or
Patricia McFish or Louella Mc Gee,
I wouldn't have resulted, I wouldn't be me... - Theodor Seuss Geisel


I don't know if that makes me feel better or worse.

Oh - like the time coincidence. Weird.



posted on Jul, 4 2006 @ 07:08 AM
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Originally posted by nikelbee

Originally posted by eyeblack42
i like cheese
spring makes bees
i like eggs
i hang clothes on pegs
i like toast
for that i wont boast
i aslo like a good roast


or
you tell me


Eyeblack - thanks for posting. It reminds me a little of a Dr. Seuss poem gone wrong. Believe it or not, the beloved children's writer had some pretty bad poetry he could have happily posted on this thread.

Here is an example of his early work. It is called 'Untitled poem' and I think I know why.




If my Daddy hadn't met up with my mommy,
I'd have missed this fine party tonight...
If my daddy had shacked up with somebody else,
just supposing, for instance Miss Abigail Schmelz, or
Patricia McFish or Louella Mc Gee,
I wouldn't have resulted, I wouldn't be me... - Theodor Seuss Geisel


I don't know if that makes me feel better or worse.

Oh - like the time coincidence. Weird.




oh rotflmao...really Nicklebee... you are a literary comic....genius

I nearly peed my pants laughing then.

Oh and I gave up trying to write anything for this section...after a couple of hours trying to come up with non meaningful things, my brain was really hurting!!


so funny!



posted on Jul, 5 2006 @ 02:42 AM
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My Poem

What's the time?
Half past nine!
Hang you're granny on the washing line!
When she's dry,
Bring her in,
Stuff her body in the wheely bin!

This is David Brent's poem from 'The Office' (UK)

Excalibur

"I froze your tears and made a dagger
And stabbed it in my c**k
forever
It stays there like Excalibur
Are you my Arthur?
Say you are

Take this cool dark steeled blade
Steal it, sheath it
In your lake
I drown with you to be together
Must you breathe?
Cos I need Heaven."

It's so moving


[edit on 5-7-2006 by Xeros]



posted on Jul, 5 2006 @ 03:53 AM
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Roses Are Red
Violets Are Blue
Most poems rhyme
This one does not

=====================

This one is for the Geeks:

If a packet hits a pocket on a socket on a port,
And the bus is interrupted as a very last resort,
And the address of the memory makes your floppy disk abort,
Then the socket packet pocket has an error to report!
If your cursor finds a menu item followed by a dash,
And the double-clicking icons put your window in the trash,
And your data is corrupted 'cause the index doesn't hash,
Then your situation's hopeless, and your system's gonna crash!

If the label on your cable on the gable at your house,
Says the network is connected to the button on your mouse,
But your packets want to tunnel to another protocol,
That's repeatedly rejected by the printer down the hall.

And your screen is all distorted by the side effects of gauss,
So your icons in the window are as wavy as a souse,
Then you may as well reboot and go out with a bang,
"Cause as sure as I'm a poet, the sucker's gonna hang!

When the copy of your floppy's getting sloppy on the disk,
And the microcode instructions cause unnecessary RISC,
Then you have to flash your memory and you'll want to RAM your ROM,
Quickly turn off your computer and be sure to tell your mom!

Author: Jim Fiedler

=============

NN



posted on Jul, 7 2006 @ 08:46 AM
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Excalibur

Take this cool dark steeled blade
Steal it, sheath it
In your lake
I drown with you to be together
Must you breathe?
Cos I need Heaven."

It's so moving



Indeed. Although I myself was not moved . I wonder if it's a guy thing? I also have to say that the 'Must you breathe' part made me just a tad uncomfortable. But i'm happy to note that you didn't follow up that line with an expletetive. And of course your next line, 'Cos I need heaven' is simply delightful.



Good entry




posted on Jul, 7 2006 @ 10:05 AM
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Originally posted by nikelbee



Excalibur

Take this cool dark steeled blade
Steal it, sheath it
In your lake
I drown with you to be together
Must you breathe?
Cos I need Heaven."

It's so moving



Indeed. Although I myself was not moved . I wonder if it's a guy thing? I also have to say that the 'Must you breathe' part made me just a tad uncomfortable. But i'm happy to note that you didn't follow up that line with an expletetive. And of course your next line, 'Cos I need heaven' is simply delightful.



Good entry


No it's not a guy thing more a sarcasm thing.

It's from "the office" (very funny program) but mine was better.

Here's my latest masterpiece

I went to the shops today,
whilst eating a bail of hay
I fell on the ground,
made a terrible sound
and went to A and E in dismay.



posted on Jul, 13 2006 @ 11:31 AM
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No it's not a guy thing more a sarcasm thing.

It's from "the office" (very funny program) but mine was better.

Here's my latest masterpiece

I went to the shops today,
whilst eating a bail of hay
I fell on the ground,
made a terrible sound
and went to A and E in dismay.


Ah sarcasm... I must have missed that.
I like when David Brent does his little dance, reminds me of Bob Fossil and his 'I don't like Cricket' dance.

Did you by chance eat old sausages and beans? That might cause the terrible sound.

I have a Bad experminental gone wrong poem to share today. At some point I thought it had potential, but really I was sadly deluding myself. At least it is funny


ps: When reading it, make sure you do it in a cool cat/beat poet way for full cringing effect. If you have like a black turtleneck put it on first and then read.




Urban Jesus

Walking down late night 26th street
Mexican Fajitas platter Kick! starting my groin
With a loose arm enveloping she
A picture of ulcered complacency

Jesus, says my Woman calmly pointing down the street
Like way, I flippantly say, not even checking the facts jack
urban blight's a bitch
but even Jesus has more sense than to walk down 26th street.

But then parting the darkness
Urban Jesus did I see
Strolling opposite the street from me
wearing Nike shoes and walking rather hurriedly

Sweet Jesus!! I say, cursing and pointing rudely right at He
I told you man," she says
elbowing me hard in the pit
of my blasphemy

In defence I launch logical male
the-ory
In June? she scoffs,
Oh please

OKAY then he's a wacko!
A nutcase!
A streetwise bum!
I say, denying Jesus three times before midnight.

She stomps off in her platforms
to escape me
which happens lately
I'm sorry to say
with more & more frequency

OK, so this man
with flowy white robes
might be (as she says)
the saviour

But most likely he's not
so I really can't see
Why she'd choose to believe
in this failure



posted on Aug, 2 2006 @ 02:31 AM
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Time to revive this thread.

I present to you another cringe worthy emo luv pome. Not Kedfr bad, but bad enough. Especially at the end. Ew...

ps: poem does not have any affiliation with Cure song by same title.



Pictures of you

I’m putting them away, in appropriate envelopes
To become dusty over time
Eventually to be forgotten
To not be acknowledged or stared at
Or cried over
To be properly punished, banished, discarded
From my existence

And maybe just maybe…
I will look at them again… someday
When the wounds are better healed
When the sight of your face doesn’t make me cry
Or the sound of your voice make me need you

Till then I will think my dark thoughts
And properly hate you
Hate your lies, and your promises
The dozens of things told me
While lying on your pillow

You will remain hidden
Until I can accept that
I was nothing
Not that delicate thing you swore
You’d forever cherish

When I can at least
Breathe without exhaling sadness
Or sleep without shedding tears
Till I can again wake
Free and innocent

You must remain deep in my drawer
Buried
but not forgotten
Buried
as you chose to bury me



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