WINNER of the Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest

After a long day with a headache (thanks, human pregnancy), I’ve rock-paper-scissored a winner from my final choices.

And that winner is Peregrine Arc.

The Hallmark of Irony: An Elephant’s Tale

by Peregrine Arc

Here’s a card just for you
For 22 months, I’ve had spew
All over the savannah after every meal
Two hundred pounds sitting on my bladder for almost two years
Growing by the day and your father asks me
Dearest pachyderm-a-booble, whatsoever’s the matter, my dear little poodle?
Chin up, dear lady, this won’t last forever.
The labour pains will only last two nights, no matter.

So dearest child when you’re born,
If you ever wonder why your father walks with a limp–
It’s because I sat on him
To make him suffer for being a nitwit.

Congratulations, Madame Arc! You are the most terrible poet of the week!

Almost all of the entries went above and beyond the criteria: horrible, educational, interesting, and painful to read. P’Arc’s contribution did all that, plus garnered the promised bonus points for trying to make hers more like a Hallmark card. Maybe it’s my current pregnancy speaking, but I especially appreciated the elephant daddy getting a bit of payback in the end.

Meanwhile, National Geographic may want to get in touch with the other fabulous poets:

Untitled piece

by Deb Whittam

Pregnancy is wearing,
As I’m sure you know,
But not if you’re a Surinam toad,
For guess where their babes grow.
If you said on their back,
You would be halfway right.
If you said the male digs holes
To stash the eggs in you’ve seen the light.
In a 12 hour mating ritual,
He buries those babes deep,
Then the skin grows back,
It’s enough to give me the creeps.
Four and a half months later,
The babes emerge,
Momma Surinam toad must sure shriek,
And lament her maternal urge.

—–

A Tale of Two Widows

by Mathew S

Two arachnids met eyes across a room
All eight pairs of eyes made contact in fact
That bulbous rump had made males swoon
Those long legs called out for contact

Mmmm mmmmm yum yum yum
He thought, what a night of ecstasy
We sure will get us much of some
They lay there tangled plain to see

Dreaming up their spider plans
They spoke to make a web for both of thee
He was arachnid putty in her hands
She hissed, “you’ll always be a part of me”

He thought he knew just what she meant
Like newly webs, not you or I, but we!
After sticky reproduction, hungry and so spent,
He attempted to leave the web sheepishly

But was asked to stay for dinner
To which he agreed, but feels remorse
Since he’s digesting in her innards
As her web-of-lies main course

—–

The lamentation of a girl guppy

by Bruce Goodman

Because you’re the male you’re smaller than me
And that’s because I’m a female guppy.
I don’t lay eggs, I’m a live-bearer,
And I don’t believe I could possibly say that any clearer.

Well you might laugh at my girth,
But that’s because I haven’t as yet given birth
I’m a good couple of months old
And when you were seven weeks old I wish you hadn’t been so bold.

Even when expecting, females prefer new males prettier than hubby
And frequently change who the father is going to be of their bubby.
Basically we guppies are the epitome of immortality
And that’s what happens when one practises polyandry.

So to sum up, if I see a boy guppy who’s dashing
I get quite overcome with passion.
But I ask you, do you think it is fair
That I’m already into my fifth pregnancy this year?

—–

From Here Two Maternity

by LWBUT

If you are lying in bed postprandially wondering

what you can Google here’s an example i’ve been pondering –

The female kangaroo of Australia

has quite the most remarkable genitalia.

Although it is a mammal, whose species mostly possess a single uterus,

the kangaroo has developed a reproductive system that is really quite new to us,

in that she has evolved double our number of internal cavities

in which to incubate the future prospective progeny of her species.

In two uteri her eggs can be fertilised in parallel, growing two joeys at a time

And what is an even greater puzzle, going from the ridiculous to the sublime,

is that though she exceeds the number of egg-hatching chambers by one over us

her vaginas exceed even that by a half again of the surprising number of uterus

making a final tally, some might find a tad hard to believe,

of kangaroo uteri: two, while kangaroo vaginas are in total, three!

While to some this may cause a concern at the possibility of colliding despatches

Our kangaroo has yet another surprise in the way that her offspring hatches;

the kangaroo has the unique ability to suspend one of her two embryo ‘in situ’

While the other makes good his escape before deciding what he is to do,

to go outside and crawl up to the pouch, if i’m not mistaken?

or crawl back up inside and hope his room has not yet been taken.

While from egg to escaping the womb will take a little joey about a month or more

the young ‘roo will remain in mum’s pouch for another eight, by which time she’s sure to be sore.

Once her young joey has been thus evicted

mum’s familial duties are no less restricted

She will continue to raise him, teaching him how to fend

for himself until his sibling brings her patience to an end.

So with two uteri, a female kangaroo in her maternity

can seemingly be pregnant from here to eternity.

—–

Self Satisfaction–Oh to be like thee, Komodo the Lizard

by Ruth Scribbles

Parthenogenesis
Genesis, the beginning
Beginning of self-impregnating
Impregnating self
Self reliance
Reliance on moi
Moi and tu
Tu, no not you
Me and only me
Self satisfaction
Or
Self destruction
Destruction of needing
Needing anyone
Anyone will do?
No only you
Oops.. just kidding
I want to procreate
Like the dragon of komodo
Now, that’s self satisfying!

—–

You Need a New Mom

by Angela Duggins

All through the night, in my dreams,
I hear you. I feel you.
deciding that you want to be born.
You will grow up someday.
I’ll push you out some way.
Now is time to break through my pores.

You’re here. My death I now fear.
I believe that you need a new mom.
Please stay. Your birth is my decay,
and I know that you need a new mom.

Keep moving on.

—–

Untitled piece

by Gary

When the Giraffe gives birth the baby falls to the ground
But luckily the calves are not hurt they seem to rebound
Lucky female seahorses as the males are the ones who give birth
I wonder how that effects the dads and their much prized girth
A chipmunk can give birth every forty five days
That’s enough to make Alvin stop singing and go into a daze
Opossums are quick they only gestate for fourteen days
Pressure on the males as it’s an even quicker menstrual phase
Humans are so much slower yet no less Herculean
That all makes the our pregnancy rather antediluvian

—–

Thank you so much for putting me through this misery! Tune in tomorrow around 10 a.m. MST for the announcement of next week’s contest.

joshua-j-cotten-w-DHG2su6gU-unsplash

P’Arc: D. Wallace Peach created this graphic that you can use (if you want) for a badge of honor as the winner:

22 thoughts on “WINNER of the Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest

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