Bad Poetry Monday
It's Monday for Cryin' Out Loud
Good Morning and Good Monday Cool Cats and Hot Kittens!
What you are about to read today is antithetical to the reason this weekly post of bad poetry exists. Although, it would be fair to call this one “bad” and no feelings would be hurt.
You see, today’s offering is more of a rant than a poem, albeit it do rhyme, but consider it more a rant against the idea that poetry is good for the soul, that poetry calms our nerves, or makes us fall head over heels in love. This is not to say that poetry doesn’t have its merits, for I believe it does. But you know what? Sometimes the last thing we need is a poem, when really a cold beer or a little chocolate would do the trick much better.
So, throw away your rhyming dictionaries and welcome to my “anti-poem.”
It’s Monday For Cryin’ Out Loud
By ZJ Czupor
Last thing I need today is a poem,
I need a poem like a hole in the head,
On days like this, I just grow numb,
Which is why I’d rather go to bed instead.
It’s Monday for cryin’ out loud,
Who has time for silly rhymes,
With fancy foreign words endowed,
I declare poetry to be a federal crime.
To hell with Shakesneer, Frosty, and Miss Dickens,
To Sylvia on the wrong path, and Edgar and his Raven,
Let them all come home to roost with the chickens,
We’ll cook ‘em up with biscuits and graven.
It’s Monday for cryin’ out loud,
The world needs less iambic pentameter,
No rhyming couplets be therefore allowed,
And no more sappy poems from an amateur.
Give me some good old rock ‘n roll,
Let’s talk about the days of old,
Play music to soothe my soul,
Let’s be-bop till we’re all consoled.
No more schmaltzy rhyming poems allowed!
Hey! It’s Monday for cryin’ out loud!
Leave a comment, if you will, but no poetry. It’s Monday for cryin’ out loud!
I remember the sappy tortured poems l used to write. Arrrgh! I even remember one title....AHEMMM: Straw Flowers and Candle Wax.
Just the ANGST reducer l needed.