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Crap Poetry Corner

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The heading is a little ambiguous. Is it a poetry corner that's crap or a corner for crap poetry? It's important to know when considering one's possible contribution.

Poetry that's crap or poetry with crap as a subject matter - makes no difference really, whatever floats your boat! :unsure:

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Been up and about since dawn's early light,

then had to contend with a shedload of shite.

Got soaked to skin, lost my wallet again, and

didn't get home until well after ten.

 

Wish I could say I'd been out getting pissed,

but my social life has been crossed off the list.

With so much to do and with so little time,

this is the first shot I've had at a rhyme.

 

So apologies to everyone for beginning this thread

and then having to run.

Put this ditty to the Football anthem "Your not singing anymore"

"You are Yvonne, you are Yvonne, you are Yvonne in disguise"

"You are Yvonne in disguise....."

Appologies for any spelling mistakes, its the Bacardi wot did it guv.

PS; Can we not just copy and paste all of Ted Hughes old chod on here?

At school, we all thought his poetry was utter shite.

 

Football anthem? Welshman will be spinning in his grave!

 

If we're nominating established poetry rather than our original works (the heading is a little ambiguous :unsure: ), William McGonagall gets my vote.

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'twas the seventeenth of September in the year of two thousand ten,

that Kayla announced her decision to delight many women and men,

by instigating a thread for poems which were crap,

thus filling the deathlisters' hearts with glee and making them clap.

 

And Windsor racked his brains and wrote with all his might,

finally producing a poem which was indeed truly shite.

And filled the peoples hearts with delight,

who promptly resolved their own crap poems to write.

 

And the people began with all their might,

faecal poems to write and ones which were shite,

apart from Banshees Scream who thankfully remained nowhere to be seen.

but none could equal Windsor's entreaty his shite to bite.

 

ALL HAIL TO WINDSOR! Let the people say!

For he is surely the shitest poet of the modern day.

And champion of ministers and bishops that are gay,

filling the Boys' Brigade officers' hearts with dismay.

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.... I have no intention in engaging in childish behaviour or penning love sonnets to ailing celebs.
Very well, but someone has to do it.

 

Love Song to an Ailing Celeb

 

Oh my darling Kim Jong il

Do with me what e're you will,

Whilst I caress thy turnip head,

And trembling, lead thee to my bed.

 

:unsure::lol::):o

 

Wait a minute , don't you dare!!

You know I'm still a virgin there!

For all your brass, you're just a churl

And I am not that kind of girl!!

 

And look at this, of all the nerve!

Thou loathsome wrinkled dried up perv,

You've left a hickey on my thigh

What will I tell the other guy?

 

In fact, I really wish you'd die, Kim Jong Il.

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'twas the seventeenth of September in the year of two thousand ten,

that Kayla announced her decision to delight many women and men,

by instigating a thread for poems which were crap,

thus filling the deathlisters' hearts with glee and making them clap.

 

And Windsor racked his brains and wrote with all his might,

finally producing a poem which was indeed truly shite.

And filled the peoples hearts with delight,

who promptly resolved their own crap poems to write.

 

And the people began with all their might,

faecal poems to write and ones which were shite,

apart from Banshees Scream who thankfully remained nowhere to be seen.

but none could equal Windsor's entreaty his shite to bite.

 

ALL HAIL TO WINDSOR! Let the people say!

For he is surely the shitest poet of the modern day.

And champion of ministers and bishops that are gay,

filling the Boys' Brigade officers' hearts with dismay.

 

 

I may have to print this off and frame it. :unsure:

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'twas the seventeenth of September in the year of two thousand ten,

that Kayla announced her decision to delight many women and men,

by instigating a thread for poems which were crap,

thus filling the deathlisters' hearts with glee and making them clap.

 

And Windsor racked his brains and wrote with all his might,

finally producing a poem which was indeed truly shite.

And filled the peoples hearts with delight,

who promptly resolved their own crap poems to write.

 

And the people began with all their might,

faecal poems to write and ones which were shite,

apart from Banshees Scream who thankfully remained nowhere to be seen.

but none could equal Windsor's entreaty his shite to bite.

 

ALL HAIL TO WINDSOR! Let the people say!

For he is surely the shitest poet of the modern day.

And champion of ministers and bishops that are gay,

filling the Boys' Brigade officers' hearts with dismay.

 

 

I may have to print this off and frame it. :lol:

 

I wrote one for you too. NAP's effort is obviously top shite in the Windsor category, but here it is :unsure: :

 

The sun rose blazing purple

and the sky was minty green

Windsor got a letter

from her Majesty the Queen.

 

Tripping over hedgehogs,

He ran out in the rain

The buses were all broken

So he had to take the train.

 

When he got to London

A happy crowd was there

Crying out his name

And trying to touch his hair.

 

As pigs flew in the clouds above

And townsfolk cheered and cried,

The palace doors did open

And Windsor went inside.

 

Hear the trumpets blaring!

See the banners roll.

For Windsor’s been inducted to

The Order of the Troll.

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'twas the seventeenth of September in the year of two thousand ten,

that Kayla announced her decision to delight many women and men,

by instigating a thread for poems which were crap,

thus filling the deathlisters' hearts with glee and making them clap.

 

And Windsor racked his brains and wrote with all his might,

finally producing a poem which was indeed truly shite.

And filled the peoples hearts with delight,

who promptly resolved their own crap poems to write.

 

And the people began with all their might,

faecal poems to write and ones which were shite,

apart from Banshees Scream who thankfully remained nowhere to be seen.

but none could equal Windsor's entreaty his shite to bite.

 

ALL HAIL TO WINDSOR! Let the people say!

For he is surely the shitest poet of the modern day.

And champion of ministers and bishops that are gay,

filling the Boys' Brigade officers' hearts with dismay.

 

 

I may have to print this off and frame it. :)

 

I wrote one for you too. NAP's effort is obviously top shite in the Windsor category, but here it is :lol: :

 

The sun rose blazing purple

and the sky was minty green

Windsor got a letter

from her Majesty the Queen.

 

Tripping over hedgehogs,

He ran out in the rain

The buses were all broken

So he had to take the train.

 

When he got to London

A happy crowd was there

Crying out his name

And trying to touch his hair.

 

As pigs flew in the clouds above

And townsfolk cheered and cried,

The palace doors did open

And Windsor went inside.

 

Hear the trumpets blaring!

See the banners roll.

For Windsor’s been inducted to

The Order of the Troll.

 

Ah excellent. :unsure:

 

I'm not framing NAPs one anymore. I'm going to start collecting them to make a book of poems. :o

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On the Eighth of October

National Poetry Day

Thirty nine were still standing

Eleven passed away.

 

The record was close

Within touching distance

And yet some would question

The Committee's brilliance.

 

Though it's true to say

Including Bill Maynard

Would seem to have been

A bit of a wild card.

 

And as for Mr Large

First name is Eddie

There is no sense of danger

He's still going steady.

 

The low hanging fruit

It seems to be

Far from falling away

Is still stuck to the tree.

 

Clive James is still living

Val Harper's still fine

And a rhyme for the Thai King?

Well he's Rama IX.

 

There just isn't a sign

Joost Van Der Westhuizen

Is going anywhere yet

(Tho he may suffer some bruisin').

 

Billy Graham won't die

"He'll live to one hundred!"

Or so says his son

"Here, the Reaper has blundered!"

 

de Havilland, de Cuellar

Prince Philip and Schmidt

Despite their ages

Are still grooving with it.

 

Wouk is still writing

Vera and Doris still singing

Of Henry Kissinger

Sounds like he is still Kissing.

 

Crowe, Molinaro

And still plenty more

Are likely to die

Before Zsa Zsa Gabor.

 

Before we forget

Let us all still remember

There's plenty of days

'Til the end of December.

 

So be of good cheer

All you Listers and guests

While there's still breath in your lungs

And hearts beat in your chests.

 

We shall beat the record

Of that I am sure

Just as death is a certainty

There is simply no cure.

 

Join with me comrades!

Let us all pump our fists!

For if they live this year

They'll be on next year's lists!

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On the Eighth of October

National Poetry Day

Thirty nine were still standing

Eleven passed away.

 

The record was close

Within touching distance

And yet some would question

The Committee's brilliance.

 

Though it's true to say

Including Bill Maynard

Would seem to have been

A bit of a wild card.

 

And as for Mr Large

First name is Eddie

There is no sense of danger

He's still going steady.

 

The low hanging fruit

It seems to be

Far from falling away

Is still stuck to the tree.

 

Clive James is still living

Val Harper's still fine

And a rhyme for the Thai King?

Well he's Rama IX.

 

There just isn't a sign

Joost Van Der Westhuizen

Is going anywhere yet

(Tho he may suffer some bruisin').

 

Billy Graham won't die

"He'll live to one hundred!"

Or so says his son

"Here, the Reaper has blundered!"

 

de Havilland, de Cuellar

Prince Philip and Schmidt

Despite their ages

Are still grooving with it.

 

Wouk is still writing

Vera and Doris still singing

Of Henry Kissinger

Sounds like he is still Kissing.

 

Crowe, Molinaro

And still plenty more

Are likely to die

Before Zsa Zsa Gabor.

 

Before we forget

Let us all still remember

There's plenty of days

'Til the end of December.

 

So be of good cheer

All you Listers and guests

While there's still breath in your lungs

And hearts beat in your chests.

 

We shall beat the record

Of that I am sure

Just as death is a certainty

There is simply no cure.

 

Join with me comrades!

Let us all pump our fists!

For if they live this year

They'll be on next year's lists!

Lol it's sad you've been holding back to reboot this thread

Well done Y-Dub

SC

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There's some really questionable rhyming pairs in that YW.

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There's some really questionable rhyming pairs in that YW.

 

I know, that's why it's in this thread, the scans are all over the place too. Knocked it up in 10 minutes tbh. :)

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There's some really questionable rhyming pairs in that YW.

 

I know, that's why it's in this thread, the scans are all over the place too. Knocked it up in 10 minutes tbh. :)

 

There's some really questionable rhyming pairs in that YW.

 

I know, that's why it's in this thread, the scans are all over the place too. Knocked it up in 10 minutes tbh. :)

Don't let the critics dissuade you from your passion for couplets bursting from your heart.

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There's some really questionable rhyming pairs in that YW.

 

I know, that's why it's in this thread, the scans are all over the place too. Knocked it up in 10 minutes tbh. :)

your poetry was so beautiful it made me cry
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When you far

On a plastic chair

The vibrations go...

Fuckin' everywhere!

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Ode to the NRA

 

Bang Bang

Bang Bang

Bang Bang

You are all dead

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Ode to the NRA

 

Bang Bang

Bang Bang

Bang Bang

You are all dead

beautiful

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Ode to the NRA

 

Bang Bang

Bang Bang

Bang Bang

You are all dead

beautiful

 

L F N

When when when

Will you write

A post that's not shite? :D

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Ode to the NRA

 

Bang Bang

Bang Bang

Bang Bang

You are all dead

 

LFN's elegant verse brought to mind another poetic genius

 

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Ode to the NRA

 

Bang Bang

Bang Bang

Bang Bang

You are all dead

 

LFN's elegant verse brought to mind another poetic genius

 

 

Ah yeah!!

Classic!! :D

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Ode to the NRA

 

Bang Bang

Bang Bang

Bang Bang

You are all dead

beautiful

 

L F N

When when when

Will you write

A post that's not shite? :D

 

Oh Lardy

Arse so large

When you bend over

You block the moon and the stars :lol:

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Roses are red

violets are blue

the prose here all sucks

and the poetry too.

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Ode to the NRA

 

Bang Bang

Bang Bang

Bang Bang

You are all dead

beautiful

 

L F N

When when when

Will you write

A post that's not shite? :D

 

Oh Lardy

Arse so large

When you bend over

You block the moon and the stars :lol:

 

My bum's so big

And my tits are too

And I've even got a bigger

Cock than you :D

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Those two soooo want to get it on it's unreal...

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Ode to the NRA

 

Bang Bang

Bang Bang

Bang Bang

You are all dead

 

beautiful

L F N

When when when

Will you write

A post that's not shite? :D

Oh Lardy

Arse so large

When you bend over

You block the moon and the stars :lol:

My bum's so big

And my tits are too

And I've even got a bigger

Cock than you :D

isn't really hard to tell your a couple

LFN+lb= sex and a baby oh wait there's something I'm forgetting oh yeah they are a couple

Why don't you just admit you are in love

And this is fake love this is true love

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Ode to the NRA

 

Bang Bang

Bang Bang

Bang Bang

You are all dead

beautiful
L F N

When when when

Will you write

A post that's not shite? :D

Oh Lardy

Arse so large

When you bend over

You block the moon and the stars :lol:

My bum's so big

And my tits are too

And I've even got a bigger

Cock than you :D

isn't really hard to tell your a couple

LFN+lb= sex and a baby oh wait there's something I'm forgetting oh yeah they are a couple

Why don't you just admit you are in love

And this is fake love this is true love

 

Oh no you have found out

Who it is I dream about

Alas my wildest fantasy lingers

Because there's no way I'd get it on with a man with webbed fingers

 

And anyhow you are wrong

About who it is I long

On my feelings I can no longer keep a lid

I want to bone you, Morbidkid

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