Crappy Poetry

What follows is a collection of some of my crappy poetry from my school days.  I used to go to this really artsy coffee shop with friends in the hipster district, and some of this was created there for and during a weekly open mic night. Yeah, real cerebral stuff, and totally not my style anymore if it even was then, but thought someone might get a kick out of it.

There is a lot of really, really good poetry on HubPages.  I don't think I've ever written a good poem in my life, but hey, I figure there is a lot of really, really bad poetry on HubPages also. The way I see it; chances are that my crappy poetry is not the worst of the worst, but I'll let you people be the judge.  Enjoy!

Pete's Limerick

There once was a boy named Pete
Who was born without any feet.
He never did learn to walk,
But he really knew how to talk,
And he never shut his mouth to eat.

That Pete, he was an ornery cuss,
Chartered himself a Greyhound bus.
He forcefully claimed one whole side,
With no one else allowed to ride,
And provoked all the others into a fuss.

Five Months

Biologic metabolism
Slows in winter time
Smokey winter nights drag by
Live from Milan; hour and a quarter
Lasting for days; three days exactly

Five months to go. Five months to be
Birthed; thrust into the cold winter
World. Perpetually frozen winter lake
Question: how long is five months
How long is the winter time?
City of Angels, New Amsterdam, living on
The bayou. Drunken madness, reefer madness
Miles and Chuck D together at last.

No need to explain, five months to complain,
Take a ride on a train, and I am attending.
S'okay, man, 'cause this world's full
Of crap, and you're your own best friend.
Panhandling looks okay on paper?
Enough cash to eat on?
What's that education worth
Living in a cardboard box?

A goldfish in a bowl has more dignity
Than most people met on the street.
How long is five months to the goldfish?
Has one ever lived that long?
Flush it down the toilet; dead eyes staring
As it swirls down around the plumbing.
Frozen in five months of winter
Time there is nowhere to go.

Untitled

What do you say to a world
No longer inclined to listen
Who to express hopes dreams desires
What liquid will quench this fire

Die a little each day you're repressed
You never could have guessed
All your actions are final
Responsibility opposes denial

Lie to me again I refuse the truth
I fear the regrettable loss of youth
You tell me things are just fine
But this world swallowed your mind

Decide to live your own life
Choices made are all mine
We give no more of ourselves
And no longer reside in your hell

Good

It's good to see It's good for health
It's good to be yourself
And let your soul
Find its way back home
It's good to watch It's good to wait
It's even good to hate
Those who try to keep you down

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Comments 2 comments

Jazlynn 23 months ago

If your arlcties are always this helpful, "I'll be back."


Susannah 23 months ago

I've been loionkg for a post like this forever (and a day)

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