Hey, kids! It’s National Poetry Month!
Wait — don’t go, come back! Poetry is cool! I swear this will be fun! And mostly painless!
Mostly.
Here’s a short collection of some of my best poetry fails. See, I made sure this was short. So you can enjoy them. Or not. My guess is you won’t unless you’re drunk.
Do Iguanas Smoke Marijuana in the Sauna?
There once was a girl from Maine
Who’s musical taste was urbane.
She jammed to Nirvana
On the streets of Botswana
Hold up — that makes no sense…
but what else rhymes with Nirvana?
OK, sure sauna…maybe iguana…
But I’m not entirely convinced
I can make a connection there.
And urbane doesn’t describe Nirvana,
hmm…maybe I should look up
the definition again
just to be sure…
Annnnd now my rhythm is off,
Dammit!
(Writing poetry is like, super-duper hard.)
_______________________________________________________
Highway to Hell
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one everyone else did,
And now I’m stuck in traffic behind an 18 Wheeler
filled with three farms worth of cow manure,
diesel seeping into my pulmonary veins,
my bladder bursting with jumbo-sized Mocha Lattes,
while my kids play “Stinky Feet” and “Who Can Fart the Loudest?”
and the deejay announces they’re kicking off a three hour block
of Justin Bieber.
_____________________________________________________________
Please, Be It Far From Me to Tell You How to Sleep. Or Die.
Do not go gentle into that good night,
God forbid that were to ever happen,
because then I’d get some f***ing rest.
So please! By all means, rage, rage against the dying of the TV’s light!
and blissfully snore like a wild boar that’s being slowly castrated while trapped inside a cavernous abyss of hell where every snort vibrates with the power of a million jackhammers and I think the wall is going to cave in and crush us both to death, I pray.
Rage, rage….that’s it. That’s all I got. Just rage.
____________________________________________________________
Happy Poetry Month!
Feel free to leave a good poetry fail in your comments.
Like this? Want more? click on these gems:
She's A Maineiac 
lol…what an awesome title for this post! If you try songwriting too, I think you have some lyrics here!
I added the “in the sauna” to old lyrics. So not very original, but what can I say, I’m not good at poetry!
Poetry makes my eyes glaze. But not yours.
Rhyming words make my brain haze. But not yours.
That’s all I got.
Poetry tends to make me hazy and crazy.
It usually makes me click “X”
Justin Bieber
Douchey Fever
The End.
Best. Poem. Ever.
A haiku for you, entitled “Poetry’s Lazy Kid Brother”:
No rhyming rhythm
Small words counted on fingers
Haiku is better
Genius, Rache! here’s my very first attempt:
I don’t get haiku.
I’m not that good at counting.
I’m much too lazy.
(god that was terrible)
Hoh! I laughed aloud.
“L.O.L.” does not capture
What you do to me.
Jules and Rachey-Poo
Crafting haikus like rock stars
While I sadly fail.
Late to the party
Has anyone stuck around
To read my haiku?
I read your haiku
Words swirling, counting them down
But I suck at math.
Read it and loved it
Haiku comments are the thing
I started a trend
I love Rachey-Poo
She stops me heart with haikus
Now I’m counting five.
I have nothing on the poetry front. I’m not a poet, and I know it.
But this post DID remind me that it has been eons since I’ve sent someone some highly coveted Bieber merch. Huh. I think that needs rectifying post haste! Thanks for the reminder, DarDar Binks!
I love you, Misty. I do. (Miss J is currently smitten with The Beebs, she wears that shirt you sent to bed at night)
Oh! Rectifying!
Snickers and hints at rectals.
I’m so ten-years-old.
Loved it, Sandy Sue.
Brilliant. And I agree with Rachel’s Haiku. That’s all I got.
and that’s all I need, JM. thank you.
Haha, I must still be hammered because I found it moderately amusing!
ooh! Yes! I was shooting for moderately.
Dali Lama!!!!
I loved your vivid imagery in your second poem, “Highway to Hell.” I could smell the stench inside your mini-van… 🙂
That trip is the story of my life most days. I heard Justin’s “Boyfriend” song about 10 times the other day and nearly drove into a telephone pole to end it.
You’re mad. You do know that, don’t you? Stark raving bonkers. (That’s a compliment.) 😉
Thank god you added the compliment at the end there, Val. I would have agreed with you either way, though. I had a hellish week last week of sleep deprivation and this is the post I coughed up.
Coughed up? Well, I like it. 🙂
The title of this post was stolen from a song, “Mexican Radio” by the group Wall of Voodoo. A song from the early 1980s. So I can’t take full credit. Still, I can take credit for being a bit bonkers.
Neither the title nor the post were fails…at all. Laughed all the way through. 😆
I believe this is how poetry was meant to be. 😉
Thanks so much, Lily. I’m thrilled you laughed, although I’m not sure I’m getting any better at poetry, just worse.
The poet laureates have nothing on you!
Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Nah, I much prefer spring. 🙂
I would take a mild winter at this point, Jackie! I had to scrape ice of my car this morning…
Lol!! Great stuff Darla!!
Thanks, good to ‘see’ you again!
This is beautiful! Move over, Shakespeare, there’s a new poet in town.
I think he was rolling over in his grave for sure, Pegorific.
This is my kind of poetry – FUNNY, relatable, understandable, and it rhymes sometimes.
I very recently tried my hand at poetry for the first time. The great thing is – who’s to say if it’s good or bad? Who’s to say if ANY poetry is good or bad? (Well, except for Jewel’s. Everyone seems to agree that her poetry ain’t no good. I’ve never read it.) If someone doesn’t like it, I can always retort, “My poetry is not for people lacking depth, so . . .”
Thanks! You can’t really say what’s good or bad anymore (thanks to Jewel) We are studying poetry in my intro. to literature class this month and I’ve read some real doozies and some real duds. This is why even I can write bad poems.
I’m ashamed to admit that I can relate to your rage against the husband who “snores like a wild boar.” How come men have the luxury of sleeping so deep? I’m such a light sleeper. In fact, I’ve been sleeping with one open since having kids!
I’m a light sleeper too. Jim could keep snoring through the Apocalypse.
OMG Every time I turn around on your blog, I spot a new, hilarious widget. Right now I’m looking at kid DP who’s thanking me for visiting. Now that’s poetry right there.
I’m going to spend the rest of the night trying to think of things that rhyme with “Nirvana.”
The other night, when I was wide awake at 2 am? I got on my blog and revamped the entire sight. I redid my About page, added several new powerpoint slides of 1977 Darla. Insomnia frees me up to get soooo much done, JD! (thank you for noticing!)
Robert Frost and Dylan Thomas are most likely rollicking with laughter now. I know I am. Thanks for the laughs, Darla.
Or they are disgusted. I’d like to think they’re laughing though, Judy.
Bieber Fever? Who me? Never.
If I should imbibe in Bieber
I’d toss the radio forever!
Ah, lovely poem, Renee! Couldn’t agree more.
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I love your poetry
Thanks! I’ve been reading poetry all month and this junk just spilled out of me. It was bound to happen.
I used to be a sceptic of poetry and now I have taken on this month long challenge–a few I have come up with are keepers, some are merely doing the exercise, and some should not see the light of day
I absolutely love your sense of humour
Poetry has always been a scary thing for me to read and write. Reading your poems and other bloggers’ poems this month tempted me to try it again. The more you practice, the less fear you have!
once in a while I capture a lovely image and surprise myself–and almost all the poetry I have written has a least one good line–you are right–the more you practice, the less fear you have (or in my case, the less you care about perfection)
I always feel inadequate when I try to comment on your posts 🙂
Never!! LOL C’mon, write me a poem!
This seriously made me spit soda out my nose. Here goes…I’m looking over your dead dog Rover, who I overran with the mower – I didn’t actually write that, I heard it somewhere. I couldn’t rhyme my way out of a paper bag. You know I’ve always wondered why people ended up in paper bags in the first place…
Ooh! Dogs and rhyming! Can’t get much better than that. I cheat with my rhyming and use rhyme websites. I am horrible at poetry (as you can see)
Oooo – I didn’t know there was a way to cheat.
When it involves poetry, it’s the only way I operate.
I was going to say that iguana, marijuana, and sauna don’t really rhyme. But then I remembered that you’re from Maine.
Heh? wha? What’s that you-ah tryin’ to say-ah, there-ah, Chahles? So what if I pronounce horror ‘horrah’ or mirror ‘mirrah’. Sure, us Mainahs have zero need for silly things like the letter R.
But marijuana, sauna do so rhyme according to how I hear them in my head.
Once upon a time, during one book club meeting, one of the members suggested we all read a book of poetry for our next assignment. You could have cut the silence that followed with a knife.
A sharp knife.
It cut through the air
Like a metal thing with a sharp edge.
I bet, my literature class wasn’t too thrilled we had to write a paper on our favorite poet last month. I find poetry to be cool in general. I’ve been reading it since I was young. I have my faves and some I just don’t get. Mostly my own poems I don’t get.
I have some favorites, too. William Carlos Williams is one of them.
I once knew a woman called Maineiac…
Well, crap. There are four words on rhymezone.com that rhyme with Maineiac, and two start with the roots “kepto” and “nympho.” I’m backing out now.
P.S. I hope you get some page hits for Google searches for “air-sucking bastard.”
Haha! I used rhymezone for this post. Good stuff. Air-sucking bastard is my pet name for my husband, he loves it.
Anything for a rhyme, eh? 😉
Rhyming is so overrated.
I loved them all! 🙂
thanks, Nelson. I’m glad someone did.
Oh, my good lord. The captions are as poetical as the poetic poems. Art rocks!
All the poets out here applaud you. I’m not a poet, but I enjoy clapping. Here’s to your finer arts.
I have some old stuff (circa late 80’s) lying in the cupboard somewhere, maybe I should get it out and share my teenage angst…
I’ve been trying to think of something good, but did you know that there are no non-personal name words that rhyme with Darla??
I appreciate you trying, Weebs. My older brother had a little rhyme he tormented me with for years:
Darlah needs to go to the beauty parlah
Cuz she smells like a skunk flowah
Guess you had to be there to get it (and have a wickahd Mainah accent)
“She jammed to Nirvana
On the streets of Botswana” haha that’s awesome. And I am a little bit drunk. But I think I would enjoy that just as much if I were sober.
My favorite is the one about being stuck in traffic. Funny!
I’m sorry I missed this party! That’s some crazy fun poetry there, Darla. 😉 I want to know how you managed to sleep with my husband when I wasn’t looking. Not that I care, mind you, but you have him to a T in the snoring department!