Stupidly bad poem thread..

A poem about a fish called, Stu-aart

Once there was a fish called Staurt
and he wondered what rhymed with his name,

so he played a little game,

and asked all his friends

to write what rhymed with some paper and a pen

But no one could think,

of anything that would rhyme.

Apart from Art and Fart,

but only if you prounced it Stu-aaart.



Please contribute to this poem and enjoy the creative freedom of writing something random.. and bad and getting away with it because i didn't ask for anyones opinion...!

 

There once was a weirdo called dandy
who sat around with pandy
she wrote bizzare poetry
and posted online
but she turned into a small fish like creature in the morning

 

There once was a shortarse named Rykah
Who decided she wanted a sticker
And then ran out of ideas

 

Seem more like nursery rhymes you used get told by aunty rita... while she ate ryvita... sitting on her seat-uh.. :H

 

There was a mouse

In a house
Who wore a pink tutu.
One day he ate,
Some beans on a plate!
And farted all afternoon!

 

Hehehe

Sometimes i'll fly
Sometimes i wont....
dont you think? ...
..no i dont......

sometimes i jump
land with a bump
Some times i sway
Before running away.

But always i smile
Not just once in a while
Because a smile in some way
Will always make someones day.

 

There once was a girl named ellie
Who was so stupidly smellie
she had a rather large fat belly
oh smelly smelly ellie

 

A hippo named Dean,
Who was very mean
Had a whale as a mate
who went on a date
he turned up late
and a penguin he ate
which in fact was his fate
cos the penguin was bait
for a hippo named kate

 

Sitting on my bum

Twiddling my thumbs

Hoping that this less will end.

What can I do,

But wait for you,

Mr time to pass.

 

I got this purple umbrella
I think i'll call her stella
I am shit at this
I think I'll have a piss

 

joel,
He ate some coal,
joel,
is a big pain in the arse who doesn't shut up and is sooooo silly but he's mostly rteally smelly and I think he is a great,
joel,
without the 'l' his name would be Joe!
But it's not.

 

in my pants

i have been wandering in my pants
for three days now
im looking for a policeman
to take me back to the hospital

but there are no policemen
in my pants
i wonder how i got in here
i dont know how to get out

 

I have new glasses.
If I drop them they will smashes.
And if pronounced proper this is ass-
onance

 

Yikes,
Whats that?
Looks like,
A big red cat!
He's just sat on my mat!

Yikes,
Whats that?
Looks like,
I've got a flat!
Must 'ave been a pike-e!

Yikes,
Whats that?
Looks like,
A bad poem.

 

ohh, ooh! can I play, even though I'm not in the UK?

I made up something once for sprout, because he talks on the phone too much. (and just so you know, "DeLone is not his name, is just something the freaks at his work called him, plus it rhymes)

There once was a guy named DeLone,
who spent all his time on the phone.
One day with great fear
as he put it to his ear
he discovered there was no dial-tone!

 

This poem I dedicate to Claire.

snailpants

my pants are full of snails today
they slide along trails of mucus
and despite only having one foot
they walk among my crevices

(it's not an entirely
unpleasant sensation actually)

how many snails there are in there
i simply do not know
who needs two feet?
i shall cut one of mine off with scissors

and become a snail,
one of the least imposing molluscs

 

Odd socks (by me)

I wear odd socks
For many motives too,
But the best reason to wear odd socks
Is just to confuse you.

 

receptacles

i treat my pants as receptacles
a place to store my wares
i carry around spare spectacles;
i keep three pairs in there.
when hungry i never need go far,
for in my pants are chocolate bars.

my pants are full of pigs and pots
and also several pets
i keep in there my ocelots
and three fully qualified vets
to guard against sick ocelots
(though teams of cleaners all carry mops)

crops? yes crops i have fields of wheat
providing healthy things to eat
right from my pants down to my feet
this can be tickly when taking a seat.

in summary my pants are full of stuff
in there i have almost enough
room for people to take up home
then i would be less alone
in my pants but as it is
i have all mod cons and some spare seating;
and on odd mondays there is a quiz
though it's cold in there; i need central heating.
(people ask why i don't allow fires but its
because i am afraid of burning my naughty bits)

 

*wipes tear from eye*

That's the nicest thing anyones ever done for me

 

there once was a hobo called sam,
who really really liked spam,
even though he was blind,
and out of his mind,
he still thought that it was nicer than ham