An Ode to Giant Turds

This was written for the final Terrible Poetry Contest, a morbid lament about something long gone. I had to pull out something truly terrible that rhymed, and this – this is my final chance at victory!

Those who are faint of heart may turn away, but there is nothing truly offensive below. Just quite foul.

Look how ye curl
Above the water’s surface
You big, sassy turd, source of my pride.

Rare is the whorl
Which rises enough to lance
Through soft, golden expanse, brave height.

But now, brown pearl,
I must take the flushing stance
And send you away, unforgotten but affright.

Thou doth swirl
In a porcelain water-dance
Amidst ribbons and twills of white.

Gone! Flushed, hurled!
My mind is blown, in a trance,
That I couldn’t share your largess and might.

The joy of my innards
When you escaped by chance
During a bowel movement after midnight!

I’ll never unfurl
Our secret toilet stance
That created you, the biggest turd of my life.

Yes, this was about the sadness one feels when flushing a turd so big you kind of feel proud.

Photo by Markus Spiske on Pexels.com

Christmas Comes Too Early

Christmas is celebrated
By buying all the bargains.
Put them in packages, bags.
Enjoy with Zuzu’s petals.

Why?

One of the wise men brought gold
To the babe in a manger.
From that moment cold, hard cash
Was God’s sign of approval.

So,

Since sweet Jesus invented
The American dollar,
What’s wrong with you, customer?
Do you hate your own children?

Oh.

You’re poor, have nothing to spend.
Don’t fret! Usury is friend!
Borrow emergency cash,
And spend, spend, spend, spend, spend, spend!

This was written for Chelsea Owens’s Terrible Poetry Contest #46. I haven’t participated in a while, but this prompt was just too good to let go by.

Bhopal

The December morning air smelled cool, fresh,
Coals of industry a faint background scent.
Bhopal contained an old pesticide plant
That employed locals and brought in money.

Poisonous intermediate
The methyl isocyanate
Built pressure in the old vessels,
But the aging pipes and valves failed.

They thought the meter
Failed and went on home
To leave the pressure
Building on and on.

But then
It popped
Poison
Leakage

Breath
Pain
Death
Vain

Agony of 3,787 deaths
Many more injuries, some severe

No litigation could repay this woe
But it failed to bring justice anyway.
Innocents were killed, but money was made,
Fulfilling the prophecy of profit.

***

This was written for the Terrible Poetry Contest #21, an engineering fail.

When I was in school for Chemical Engineering, the professors repeatedly pointed out Bhopal as the biggest engineering fail we should never aspire to. I think the poem got darker than it should have, and I actually feel like maybe I shouldn’t have written a poem about it, but… I hope I wasn’t funny so much as solemn and contemplative about the subject.

 

Zodiac Killer – Terrible Poetry Contest

1 One derke and tempestuous Aprill night,
2 The shirreve clutched his herte in awful fright.
3 The licour of woman’s veynes bathed walls,
4 And with blodde the Ram of spring marked the halles.
5 The shirreve sees drawen to memorie
6 Another mordre with sign of Pisces,
7 Capricornne brot a deth most treasonous,
8 And dede man drowned, sign of Aquarius.
9 He seche and he trowe evidence,
10 But the Zodiac killer’s japed him since.
11 The shirreeve made many pilgrimages
12 To question witnesses in low corages
13 And find preve of the killer’s vileynye
14 To bring him to justise thurgh agonie.
15 Nonne can descrive circumstances of deth,
16 And all cry out hevynesse through bated breeth.
17 Upon giving up and laying to snoose,
18 He at last trowed the killer was Ted Cruz.

***

This poem does need some explaining, as it was written for Chelsea Owens’s weekly Terrible Poetry Contest.  This week, the theme was to parody a well-known, classic poem.  I chose Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales and parodied the opening passage.

Since I don’t actually speak middle English, I may have completely garbled my above poem.  I leave here a ‘translation’ so you can at least see what I intended to say.

1 One dark and stormy April night,
2 The sheriff clutched his heart in fright.
3 A woman’s blood covered the walls,
4 The sign of Ares was written in the halls.
5 The sheriff thought of memories,
6 Another murder under sign of Pisces,
7 Capricorn’s sign was a death most treasonous,
8 And dead man drowned, sign of Aquarius.
9 He sought and he thought of evidence,
10 But the Zodiac killer’s tricked him since.
11 The sheriff made many pilgrimages
12 To question witnesses in low spirits
13 And find proof of the killer’s vilainy
14 To bring him to justice through agony.
15 None can describe circumstances of death,
16 And all cry out sadness through bated breath.
17 Upon giving up and laying to snooze,
18 He at last realized the killer was Ted Cruz.

Lastly, if you don’t want to click on the link, the Ted Cruz reference was to a 2015-2016 meme that Ted Cruz was the Zodiac Killer.  It doesn’t make sense, and it’s not supposed to, but I find it funny as hell so there.

The Original Opening Scene to The Canterbury Tales:

1 Whan that Aprill, with his shoures soote
2 The droghte of March hath perced to the roote
3 And bathed every veyne in swich licour,
4 Of which vertu engendred is the flour;
5 Whan Zephirus eek with his sweete breeth
6 Inspired hath in every holt and heeth
7 The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne
8 Hath in the Ram his halfe cours yronne,
9 And smale foweles maken melodye,
10 That slepen al the nyght with open eye-
11 (So priketh hem Nature in hir corages);
12 Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrimages
13 And palmeres for to seken straunge strondes
14 To ferne halwes, kowthe in sondry londes;
15 And specially from every shires ende
16 Of Engelond, to Caunterbury they wende,
17 The hooly blisful martir for to seke
18 That hem hath holpen, whan that they were seeke.

Photo by Victor on Pexels.com

Secret Agent Man

Steele steeled his stance,
Fighting for freedom in France,
Really ready to reel Russians
In and insinuate intrigue.

Dreaded documents dredged
Up from underworld undertakings
Show sinister situations,
Blackmail baking in baddies’ brains.

He humps his home-movie
Back to bloody Britain
And advocates for absolution
Of the outstanding ordeal.

Friends faint following the film,
So he sends some signals
At an American agent
That things are taking turns.

But Bob believes his boss.
Pee-pee parties with presidents
Are too astronomically atrocious
For free freedmen to finagle.

So Steele steels his stance,
Takes tea at the typical time,
Cares about the Six Counties, and
Watches the world wither.

***

This was written for the Terrible Poetry Contest #17, under the table dealings, run by Chelsea Owens.  I do have to say that this is, by far, the worst poem I believe I’ve yet published on WP.  

Also sorry for the political intrigue, but pee-pee parties have to be one of the worst possible subjects to write about. 

Our Lizard Overlords: A Sonnet

Nary a day may pass that I don’t weep,
Considering your scaly hide beneath
Some guy’s soft flesh used as your body sheath.
So before I pray and lay down to sleep,
I consider how your anger must seeth
As foul human cattle turn Earth to heath.
I’ll turn off my computer with a beep
And stop spreading lies about your intent.
The lizard man in human flesh is kind,
A good reptilian father to his
Underling livestock filled with malcontent.
Accept your lot and I’m certain you’ll find
Falling in love with master is your fate.

***

This petrarchan love sonnet was written for the weekly Terrible Poetry Contest sponsored by the inimitable Chelsea Ann Owens.  This week, we were inspired to write a love sonnet.  I don’t believe in lizard overlords nor many conspiracies such as this, but I find them funny and suitably distasteful.  7-11 was a part time job.  

Itsy Bitsy Spider – The Mediocre Rap Version

Sleep is for the weak
SON
So listen to these ill tweaks
To the story of the real OG.

Itsy bitsy spider
In the house.

Climb up that waterspout.
Going up clean aluminum,
Ain’t touching that nasty grout.

But here comes the rain!
Aluminum’s too slick now!
Give them a world of PAIN!

Gonna bust a cap
In the weatherman
Lying to me bout this crap.

How am I gonna spin a web
When it’s wet outside?
Let me call up buddy Jeb!

Ring Ring
Ring Ring
Ring Ring

“Hello?  Nuclear Fire you say?
That’s the way I like it –
Radiation everyday!”

Dry up that pipe and climb
Reach the top of the drain
And rejoice with sick rhyme.

Word.

***

This was written for the Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest on Chelsea Owens’s blog.  This week, the topic was Nursery Rhymes – so I chose “Itsy Bitsy Spider.”  The picture alone has to get me points to win.  

Also, I know little to nothing about rap… so I’m working off bad stereotypes.  Sorry.

A Mean Girl

I’m a diamond –
See my perfect shine!
I’m prettier than you,
No need to whine.

So get in line
I ain’t got the time!
You don’t want a dollar
Waitin’ on a dime!

Your face is a crime,
So listen to me.
Tan that white skin,
Get some vitamin D.

Fat like your mommy,
You can’t wear that top.
Ain’t gettin’ no boyfriend
When you look like slop.

C’mon girl, chop-chop!
Your pits smell like waste!
And you gotta lose inches
Off that extra-large waist!

No wonder you’re chaste.
That hair’s a nightmare
With all that va-voom!
It’s like you don’t even care.

What’s that you declare?
You say I’m bad stuff?
Not even a diamond
In form most rough?

Shut up you’re stupid.
Your mom’s stupid.
Go home, idiot,
I hate you.

***

This was written for the Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest by Chelsea Owens!  With the recent shut-down of FFfAW, I needed to find a new prompt – and this one looks super, super fun.  We’ll see if I keep going!

This poem was also inspired by the Lindsay Lohan classic, Mean Girls, which my beloved recently made me watch for the first time.  I was surprised and impressed by this movie.