This pleases me.I.D.10-t wrote:Love is like a door hinge
Flexible yet binding
Love is like an orange
Its juice is sweet yet blinding
poems to make Dale cringe
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I.D.10-t
- Posts: 7660
- Joined: Wed Dec 17, 2003 9:57 am
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- Location: Minneapolis, MN, USA, Earth
The editor’s challenge
The editor said "Make me cringe!
Try to rhyme the word orange
Make poem to painful to read
Earn your pay! That’s what I need”
How could we, the staff compete
With years of submissions?
Just last month he answered the phone
To hear a voice “how’s my poem?”
A knot formed inside the editor
We wanted to sink into the floor
Tell him that his labor of love
Was trite for rhyming above and dove?
That his passion yielded not one good syllable?
That nothing was redeemable?
Looking at his career track
He’d written poems he’d now attack
His oldest work made him cringe
and annoyed his ear like a squeaky door hinge
How could we, the staff compete
With years of submissions?
We had the skills to write poorly
We could make mistakes intentionally
We could pen things that were cliché
We could destroy the meter in every way
In youth my girlfriend (an innocent lass)
And wanted to show she had class
And placed a doily under a glass
That was a mason jar
The extra effort showed in contrast
The effort showed what lacked
I drank the Beam and tea
And kept the memory
How could we, the staff compete
With years of submissions?
When we have the talent
And lack the passion.
The editor said "Make me cringe!
Try to rhyme the word orange
Make poem to painful to read
Earn your pay! That’s what I need”
How could we, the staff compete
With years of submissions?
Just last month he answered the phone
To hear a voice “how’s my poem?”
A knot formed inside the editor
We wanted to sink into the floor
Tell him that his labor of love
Was trite for rhyming above and dove?
That his passion yielded not one good syllable?
That nothing was redeemable?
Looking at his career track
He’d written poems he’d now attack
His oldest work made him cringe
and annoyed his ear like a squeaky door hinge
How could we, the staff compete
With years of submissions?
We had the skills to write poorly
We could make mistakes intentionally
We could pen things that were cliché
We could destroy the meter in every way
In youth my girlfriend (an innocent lass)
And wanted to show she had class
And placed a doily under a glass
That was a mason jar
The extra effort showed in contrast
The effort showed what lacked
I drank the Beam and tea
And kept the memory
How could we, the staff compete
With years of submissions?
When we have the talent
And lack the passion.
Last edited by I.D.10-t on Thu Aug 21, 2008 8:05 am, edited 1 time in total.
"Be not deceived by the sweet words of proverbial philosophy. Sugar of lead is a poison."
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MagicSailor
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http://www.geocities.com/SoHo/Exhibit/2762/vogons.htm
Oh freddled gruntbuggley, thy micturations are to me
As plurdled gabbleblotchits on a lurgid bee
Groop I implore thee, my foonting turlingdromes
And hooptiously drangle me with crinkly bindlewurdles, or I will rend thee in the gobberwarts with my blurglecruncheon, see if I don't!
Owen
Oh freddled gruntbuggley, thy micturations are to me
As plurdled gabbleblotchits on a lurgid bee
Groop I implore thee, my foonting turlingdromes
And hooptiously drangle me with crinkly bindlewurdles, or I will rend thee in the gobberwarts with my blurglecruncheon, see if I don't!
Owen
Last edited by MagicSailor on Thu Aug 21, 2008 9:09 am, edited 1 time in total.
Hear me playing at
http://www.wildvoice.com/MagicSailor/Posts
http://www.wildvoice.com/MagicSailor/Posts
Orange Cat
by Steve Olivera
I wish I were an orange cat
Smashed upon the pavement, flat
My guts all frozen to that cold, hard place
Greyhound bus tracks across my face
Oh, that I were that melancholy kitty
Greeting traffic in the cold, dark city
Not moving 'til from the pavement I am pried
All cold and dead and satisfied
by Steve Olivera
I wish I were an orange cat
Smashed upon the pavement, flat
My guts all frozen to that cold, hard place
Greyhound bus tracks across my face
Oh, that I were that melancholy kitty
Greeting traffic in the cold, dark city
Not moving 'til from the pavement I am pried
All cold and dead and satisfied
Giles: "We few, we happy few."
Spike: "We band of buggered."
Spike: "We band of buggered."
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FJohnSharp
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- Tell us something.: I used to be a regular then I took up the bassoon. Bassoons don't have a lot of chiff. Not really, I have always been a drummer, and my C&F years were when I was a little tired of the drums. Now I'm back playing drums. I mist the C&F years, though.
- Location: Kent, Ohio
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FJohnSharp
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- Tell us something.: I used to be a regular then I took up the bassoon. Bassoons don't have a lot of chiff. Not really, I have always been a drummer, and my C&F years were when I was a little tired of the drums. Now I'm back playing drums. I mist the C&F years, though.
- Location: Kent, Ohio
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djm
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Orange you glad you use Dial?
Don't you wish everyone did?
Omnivorous happy
As when I'm eating chocolate cake.
I'd rather have a bottle in front of me
Than a frontal lobotomy.
You can knock me down
But you can't knock me up.
And my all-time favourite:
Jabber-Whacky
Or
On Dreaming, After Falling Asleep Watching TV
Isabelle Di Caprio
'Twas Brillo, and the G.E. Stoves,
Did Procter-Gamble in the Glade;
All Pillsbury were the Taystee Loaves
And in a Minute Maid.
"Beware the Station-Break, my son,
The voice that lulls, the ads that vex!
Beware the Doctors Claim, and shun
That horror called Brand-X!"
He took his Q-Tip'd swab in hand;
Long time the Tension Headache fought--
So Dristan he by a Mercury,
And Bayer-break'd in thought.
And as in Bufferin Gulf he stood
The Station-Break, with Rise of Tame,
Came Wisking through the Pride-hazed wood,
And Creme-Rinsed as it came!
Buy one! Buy two! We're almost through!
The Q-Tip'd Dash went Spic and Span!
He Tide Air-Wick, and with Bisquick
Went Aero-Waxing Ban.
"And hast thou Dreft the Station-Break?
Ajax the Breck, Excedrin boy!
Oh, Fab wash day, Cashmere Bouquet!"
He Handi-Wrapped in Joy.
'Twas Brillo, and the G.E. Stoves
Did Procter-Gamble in the Glade;
All Pillsbury were the Taystee Loaves,
And in a Minute Maid.
djm
Don't you wish everyone did?
Omnivorous happy
As when I'm eating chocolate cake.
I'd rather have a bottle in front of me
Than a frontal lobotomy.
You can knock me down
But you can't knock me up.
And my all-time favourite:
Jabber-Whacky
Or
On Dreaming, After Falling Asleep Watching TV
Isabelle Di Caprio
'Twas Brillo, and the G.E. Stoves,
Did Procter-Gamble in the Glade;
All Pillsbury were the Taystee Loaves
And in a Minute Maid.
"Beware the Station-Break, my son,
The voice that lulls, the ads that vex!
Beware the Doctors Claim, and shun
That horror called Brand-X!"
He took his Q-Tip'd swab in hand;
Long time the Tension Headache fought--
So Dristan he by a Mercury,
And Bayer-break'd in thought.
And as in Bufferin Gulf he stood
The Station-Break, with Rise of Tame,
Came Wisking through the Pride-hazed wood,
And Creme-Rinsed as it came!
Buy one! Buy two! We're almost through!
The Q-Tip'd Dash went Spic and Span!
He Tide Air-Wick, and with Bisquick
Went Aero-Waxing Ban.
"And hast thou Dreft the Station-Break?
Ajax the Breck, Excedrin boy!
Oh, Fab wash day, Cashmere Bouquet!"
He Handi-Wrapped in Joy.
'Twas Brillo, and the G.E. Stoves
Did Procter-Gamble in the Glade;
All Pillsbury were the Taystee Loaves,
And in a Minute Maid.
djm
I'd rather be atop the foothills than beneath them.
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Joseph E. Smith
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peeplj
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Reanimation:
Like the sunlight at day's end,
Zombie's hand falls off.
--James
Like the sunlight at day's end,
Zombie's hand falls off.
--James
http://www.flutesite.com
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"Though no one can go back and make a brand new start, anyone can start from now and make a brand new ending" --Carl Bard
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"Though no one can go back and make a brand new start, anyone can start from now and make a brand new ending" --Carl Bard
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mutepointe
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WyoBadger
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- Tell us something.: "Tell us something" hits me a bit like someone asking me to tell a joke. I can always think of a hundred of them until someone asks me for one. You know how it is. Right now, I can't think of "something" to tell you. But I have to use at least 100 characters to inform you of that.
- Location: Wyoming
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emmline
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That was in a children's poetry book I used to read to my kids. It's not the worst poem in there by a long shot.Bloomfield wrote:As I am sure you are not surprised to learn there is a nearly endless supply of perfectly horrid cat poetry on the internet. These are just the first two that came up.
Cat Kisses
Sandpaper kisses
on a cheek or a chin-
that is the way
for a day to begin!
Sandpaper kisses-
a cuddle and a purr.
I have an alarm clock
that's covered in fur!
~ Bobbi Katz ~
But here, from a different book, is a better one:
Boom! Boom! My feet are large,
Each shoe is like a garbage barge.
Boom! Boom! My poor head aches,
Whenever I walk, the sidewalk breaks.