The intellectual equivalent of a ham sandwich.

Posts tagged ‘bad poetry’

Let’s Hope it’s the Thought that Counts

It’s time for me to get you a gift

And it’d better be good if I don’t want a rift

But …

(A word for which I am such a glut)

What about that certain phrase

That we relied upon in younger days

Presenting to a parent a glob of paint

Which would then be praised like a patron saint

Now adulthood is here

(I say with a 3-weeks of vacation a year-sneer)

The glob of paint just won’t do

So now what am I supposed to get for you?

You’re beautiful, you’re wonderful, and I can’t hold you close enough

It’s just I don’t know how to say that with “stuff”

I promise I’ll try though

Until the point where I give up, grab something shiny and angrily say “geez like I know!”

There’s a chance you’ll see my gift and want to pounce

So let’s hope it’s the thought that counts

Crappy College Poetry – “Reaction”

In college I wrote a number of poems that were dumb funny (hey, I’m consistent in my approach). With a few I actually tried to be sweet, like to woo my then-girlfriend. I know I’m not a good poet, but I enjoy writing these little things. And I found this self-hating one funny. This one is called “Reaction” and it was a poem about my then-girlfriends reaction to all the bad poetry coming her way.

If I had to guess, this poem was probably written to get her to say she did like my poetry.

Reaction

I’m sick, sick, sick of your “poetry”

Great. Another five year old’s rhyme, written for me.

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Why do boyfriends think they’re unique?

Bad poems by a math guy? You made my week.

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Do me a favor, please, take your time.

It’s not necessarily good if you make it rhyme.

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Haven’t you noticed the hints when you read to me?

Big yawns, my staring at the clock, longingly!?

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It’s not just boredom, it’s even my health

My eyes have rolled so much I’m stuck looking at myself.

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The first time it was sweet

But now, my dear, notice my exit on fleet feet.

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