I wrote an incredibly bad poem once. It came to mind when I was brushing my teeth and a blob of toothpaste fell off my brush:
A tiny blue blob landed in my sink
He gave me a nod and gave me a wink
Said “hey there girl, I see you’re kinda blue
What can I possibly do for you?”
I looked at him in utter surprise
He stared right back, big wide eyes
I said “what on earth are you, some kinda fish?”
He said “no, sweet lady I’m a Blue Wish”
I said “Ah, right, now I understand”
So I thought of things that I had planned
I said “make me famous, make me rich”
He replied by giving a nervous twitch
“Can’t do that, its too much work”
He stared at me with an evil smirk
“You had one chance, now its a waste
All I am now is blue toothpaste……”
I agree with Tiff. It is a good poem.
“Scan” means it flows properly as you expect it to.
It doesn’t suddenly,
Stop and start on a different, line part,
way,
through and has proper spell’ng and.
I belong to a forum that has a creative writing thread, they do short stories ,flash fiction plus the odd poems etc but sadly the input is almost zero. This is a villanelle I had a go at some time back. Maybe not to everyone’s taste but here it is.
We who always seem to stand and wait
In queues we linger for what we need
Killing time and resigned to our fate
The queue we shuffle in we cannot hate
With need to shop to supply our feed
We who always seem to stand and wait
Trying to decipher use by date
But not always caring what we read
Killing time and resigned to our fate
With baskets filled we increase our gait
And head for the door with undue speed
We who always seem to stand and wait
The barcode beeps at alarming rate
Our bags we must fill with price agreed
Killing time and resigned to our fate
yet it’s seldom we will deviate
From weekly chore never to be freed
We who always seem to stand and wait
Killing time and resigned to our fate.
Went back to the old place and dug this one up, nowts changed BTW
I felt the urge to purge my dirge
Trapped within this digital encoding
But realized with a sense of demise
A feeling of dark foreboding
The digital trace is now in space
Within the cloud indelible
Etched in time, user defined
Content of text regrettable
Please o please remove these “Bits”
Of me they don’t befit
But now the “Bits” are far away
Far beyond the administrators remit.
I looked in the window and saw an old man,
He was old as old can be,
I gave him a smile and a friendly wave,
And he smiled and waved back at me.
His face was stubbled and needed a shave,
It was wrinkled and ravaged by time,
But it wasn’t a window I was looking in,
It was a mirror, and the face was mine.
A little something I concocted about some often used old sayings.
I watched a farmer the other day
Out in the sunshine making hay
Which prompted me to write this rhyme
Of sayings passing down through time
Things like call a spade a spade
Is one for sure that’s often made
Or putting the cart before the horse
Which does seem rather odd, of course
There’s always back to the drawing board
A quote that many will applaud
And then there’s one that goes, I’m sorry
It just fell off the back of a lorry
Famous last words and paint the town red
I’m sure are a pair that will enter your head
And it makes me smile to hear the quote
Some things are as queer as a nine bob note
Don’t call us we will call you
Could leave a person feeling blue
But then pride comes before a fall
Though this does not apply to all
They say that taking a hair of the dog
Will maybe help to clear the fog
Of the midnight candle that slowly burns
While you celebrate many happy returns
One that is true, though a little hard hearted
Is a fool and his money are easily parted
I think I will stop now before you get bored
But remember the pen is mightier than the sword
Just one final word from this silly old bloke
That he who laughs last has only just got the joke.
Another little something I made up about some early children’s TV.
How well I remember the flowerpot men
Who went by the name of Bill and Ben.
With best friend Weed and her shrill cry
Her face pointing upward to the sky.
No longer with us it would seem
As times they are a’ changing.
How well I remember Muffin the mule
Having fun dancing around as a rule.
Annette Mills was pulling the strings
To make old Muffin do some silly things.
No longer with us it would seem
As times they are a’ changing.
How well I remember that young Andy Pandy
Always looking so fine and so dandy.
With friend Looby Loo, Oh my what a pair
To miss them then I would never dare.
No longer with us it would seem
As times they are a’ changing
The Woodentops with mummy and dad
And Jenny and Willy, all gone, how sad.
Poor old Buttercup and baby as well
Why did they go? Will somebody tell.
No longer with us it would seem
As times they are a’ changing.
Rag Tag and Bobtail are sadly no more
To sit and watch with mum on the floor.
A hedgehog a rabbit and little mouse
Were always welcome in our house.
No longer with us it would seem
As times they are a’ changing.
Parsley and Dill, and morph have all gone
No more animal magic to wonder upon.
Dear Basil Brush was a wily old fox
With his ‘boom boom’ laugh as Derek he mocks.
What ever happened to Skippy the ‘roo’
With Sonny his friend, and ranger Matt too.
No longer with us it would seem
As times they are a’ changing.
Where once we sat and laughed or cried
At programmes kids now would deride.
They show instead some mindless dross
That’s trendy and loud, with loads of gloss.
But I know someone, that’s for sure
Who sat and watched those shows in awe.
Like presents under the Christmas tree
The pleasure that they gave to me.
Will always be part of my youth
But sadly, and this is the truth.
The times they are a’ changing.
