There once was a poet from Daughton
Whose name has been largely forgotten
Tried to merge Limerick
With Haiku; a sad, grim trick
Now people hate him
Copyright 2013 Michael’s Bad Poetry
There once was a poet from Daughton
Whose name has been largely forgotten
Tried to merge Limerick
With Haiku; a sad, grim trick
Now people hate him
Copyright 2013 Michael’s Bad Poetry
Sometimes I get a little snippet in my head and I just know that it’s going to be the start of something insightful and brilliant.
This isn’t one of those times.
My Uncle Phil and Aunt Selene,
A cheaper pair you’ve never seen.
One day he packed his bags and ran
but first turned off the ceiling fan.
Said one owl to another,
“After every outburst
I wish you would stop saying,
‘No, he’s on first.'”
O Lord please acknowledge my prayer, I entreat
My impetus couldn’t be clearer
Today help me suffer the fools I will meet
And start with that yutz in the mirror.
I have two new cats
Yakkity yak, smacky-smack
I have two new cats
And now, some Bad Poetry© based on a dinner at EPCOT’s San Angel Inn (which is very dark, if you’ve never been, or even if you have).
This also sings well to the tune of “I’m a Baby Bumblebee”, in case that helps you, or even if it doesn’t.
There’s a blob of something on my fork
Might be chicken, maybe beef or pork, it’s
Covered in a tasty sauce with cheese
Could somebody tell me what I’m eating please?
© 2010, Michael’s Bad Poetry
Mangled is the bit
Kernel panic screams failure
So free, so happy