Tag Archives: #terriblepoetrycontest

Growing Old

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I have been sick for just over a week now and find myself tardy for Chel Owen’s Terrible Poetry Contest. I’ve read everyone else’s wonderfully terrible work and thought I’d submit a late submission. Hope you enjoy my terrible attempt at Burlesque poetry.

Growing old
If I may be so bold
Is a fate that really does blow
Things start to leak
Nothing’s at peak
And ear hair begins to grow
The girls may be hot
But it’s all for naught
There’s nary a twitch down below
My backs gone out
I’ve a bout o’ the gout
How I got here, I just don’t know

If I may be frank
Damn, my mind has gone blank
I barely remember my name
Gravity’s a drag
Pulling down on my bag
Wearing shorts only brings me shame
Life can be blunt
Getting old an affront
To how we once played the game
I’m a retiree
I’m well past my expiry
How did I get to be this damn lame

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Hand In My Pocket

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Hand in my pocket,
Looking to steal my spare change.
I’ve left a surprise,
Cold, moist, just a hint of slime.
“A used handkerchief, you swine!”

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RATastrophe

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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

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For Our Children

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From the Latin word for “patchwork,” the cento (or collage poem) is a poetic form composed entirely of lines from poems by other poets. Definition of the poetry form taken from poets.org

Suddenly there came a tapping,1
Out of the night that covers me.2
Who are these coming to the sacrifice,3
With throats unslaked, with black lips?4

We wear the mask that grins and lies,5
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light.6
Though it be darkness there,7
Some say the world will end in fire.8

No man is an island,9
And all the men and women merely players.10
We passed the school where children played,11
And that has made all the difference.12

Footnotes:
1) The Raven – Edgar Allen Poe / 2) Invictus – William Ernest Henley / 3) Ode to a Grecian Urn – John Keats / 4) The Rime of the Ancient Mariner – Samuel Taylor Coleridge / 5) We Wear the Mask – Paul Laurence Dunbar / 6) Dover Beach – Matthew Arnold / 7) There is another sky – Emily Dickenson / 8) Fire and Ice – Robert Frost / 9) No Man is an Island – John Donne / 10) All the World’s a Stage – William Shakespeare / 11) Because I could not stop for Death – Emily Dickenson / 12) The Road Not Taken – Robert Frost

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A Pantload

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I really can’t hold it, oh, what should I do,
A dreadful concoction brewing within,
In a matter of moments the air will be blue,
Clenched and contorted, I squeeze it back in.

A dreadful concoction brewing within,
While my boss keeps talking, won’t let me go,
Clenched and contorted, I squeeze it back in,
He won’t know what hit him, no reprieve when I blow.

My boss just keeps talking, won’t let me go,
Even calling me back when I try to depart,
He won’t know what hit him, no reprieve when I blow,
Thank the Lord, it’s just a wet fart.

Calling me back when I try to depart,
In a matter of moments the air will be blue,
There is no Lord, it’s not a wet fart,
I really can’t… oh crap, I’ve got a pantload of poo.

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Wild Ride: A Tragic Romance Sonnet

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My handmaid’s fingers, all torn up and raw,
with one final tug, she’ll tie off the bow.
My corset so tight, a breath I can’t draw,
I’ll slip on the dress, I’m ready to go.

Off we descend from the castle above,
tonight he’ll be waiting down by the stream.
Driver don’t kill us before I know love,
to meet my fair prince beneath the moon’s beam.

The horses barreling out of control.
Into the air then crashing back down,
the carriage breaks free as we start to roll,
a ruckus so loud we woke half the town.

Terror in his eyes and a terrible squeal,
my poor prince laid down beneath the front wheel.

Written for Chel Owen’s Terrible Poetry Contest (2022/01/22) at chelowens.com
Painter: Unknown.
Copyright 2022 Greg Glazebrook, All Rights Reserved.

Ye Hairy Gentlemen

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Written for Chel Owens’ Terrible Poetry Contest, Class of 2020 Reunion. The task, a terrible parody of a Christmas song…

On the twelfth day of Christmas
She’ll drive a holly stake through your heart…

Cut, cut, I think we’d be safer taking this in a different direction?

doG blessed ye hairy gentlemen
You’ll be warm upon this day
Remember that the rest of us
Will be frozen until May
With razor blades we’ll come for you
And shave it all away
O shavings of back hair and Bengay

We’ll stuff the clipping into bags
And ship them on their way
To far-off Nike sweatshops
In Hong Kong and Bombay
Where they’ll stitch them all together
With labels that say “Made in U.S.A.”
O tidings from Tài Sǔn and Ganmay

And when those man-hair sweaters
Arrive upon our shores
We’ll click on over to Amazon
And buy them by the scores
We’ll wrap them up for Christmas gifts
And cold, we’ll be no more
O tidings of comfort and joy
Comfort and joy
O tidings of comfort and joy

Damn these things are scratchy,
Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night…

Written for Chel Owens’ Terrible Poetry Contest, Class of ’20 Reunion
Copyright 2021 Greg Glazebrook, All Rights Reserved.


Terrible Poetry

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Keeping in mind I’m fairly new at this blogging and writing thing, I’m still exploring a lot of old posts and such. This week I shared a poem with Saddle Up Saloon: Anyone Can Poem with Chel Owens at the Carrot Ranch Literary Community. Well didn’t that take me down the proverbial rabbit hole eventually popping up at Week 3 of Chel Owens now defunct Terrible Poetry Contest from November 2018. She has posted some excellent content too. I highly recommend checking out her blog. Anyway, writing terrible poetry sounded way better than whatever I was getting paid to do at the office –– To my boss: I’m on lunch break, I swear! –– so I just had to give it a go. The instructions: Write a terrible haiku for the topic “Falling Snow”. So three years late, give or take, here it goes…

Terrible Haiku #1

Snowflakes falling white
Landing where I dare to walk
Pish I’ve fallen too

Terrible Haiku #2

God scratches its skin
Psoriasis falls like snow
To my waiting tongue

Photo credit: Darrell Cassell via Unsplash.
Copyright 2021 Greg Glazebrook, All Rights Reserved.