Kids say the darnedest things! They do, and so do our terrible poets. But, who said their poetry the darnedest?
My Hungry Bum
by Ellen Best
“Mammm”, my bottom keeps eating my pants,
Makes my legs do a dance.
I is pickin dem out, but dae makin me shout. And me tears is now wettin me leg.
Congratulations, Ellen! You are the most terrible poet of the week!
Reading through these was painfully akin to dinnertime chez moi, with fewer gaming and (surprisingly) bodily function references. I chose Ellen’s as first because it sounds a lot like what a child would say. Hers wasn’t the only one to do this, but I felt she did so quite well and managed enough whiff of verse to pass it off as a poem.
If you’ve the appetite, here are the other esteemed entrants:
From bottom-burps to bogeys
by Doug Jacquier
The dinner table farce started
when the oldest one farted,
and the middle-un began piddlin’
and then the underling was chundering.
To No. 1, Mum said ‘Stop that at once!, young Beau’
And he said ‘Sure, Ma, which way did it go?’
To No. 2, ‘The table’s not the place for peeing you know’
He replied ‘But you always tell us to go with the flow’.
No. 3 didn’t speak but passed his plate full of sick
To the dog under the table, from whence came the sound of ‘lick, lick’.
Dad smiled at his wife and ‘Don’t be such an old fogey’,
as he extracted and ate a big bogey.
Translations for non-Australians:
Chundering = vomiting
Bogey = booger
by Deb Whittam
What? LOL, but I’m SITD
TMI OMG LYLAS
2moro, yes, 2moro
IRL this is the TFH
J/K, MHOTY. SH
Airs And Graces.
Aw, Mom, whats in this bowl?
I wouldn’t touch it with a ten-foot pole!
I don’t care what you say it contains
It looks like a pile of monkey brains!
I don’t believe that’s cauliflower cheese,
It looks even worser than carrots and peas,
And if it repeats the same as baked beans
Everyone here nose what that means.
I don’t wanna taste that gross goo,
It won’t taste a thing like tiramisu,
That snotty sauce, stinky chunky and thick,
It smells like farts and looks like a bowl of sick.
Mom, you can go ahead and reheat it,
But Mom, ain’t no way I’m gonna eat it,
Hot or cold, I’m only gonna leave it,
Mom, take it away before I heave it…
by Ted Strutz
“Billy done what?”
“Billy done what?”
“I dunno, forgot.”
‘Apart from his girl like eye lashes, thankfully no sign of dad in me’
‘Of all the festive colours, my muppet Dad bought a black Christmas Tree’
On a packed French TGV ‘why does the food smell of wee’
To someone from Ireland ‘apart from the rain, wind and cold is it like Hawaii’
Shouting ‘he’s got rabies’ to a poor bearded man on a train
To a mum in the playground ‘my dad fancies someone called Shania Twain’
‘Dad it’s rude to say fart you need to call it a bottom burp’
‘My Dad is a muppet, funny but such a twerp’
‘I can’t eat that carrot, it looks like a willy’
‘That looks like sick’ the day school served chilli
To his nursery teacher ‘my dad let’s me watch Frankenstein’
‘My teacher broke a cup and said a funny word, what does F*** mean’
**** important note ‘my dad let’s me watch Frankenstein’ actually means ‘my dad let’s me watch Scooby Doo which featured Frankenstein’.
by Ruth Scribbles
“It’s raining because I put on my boots.” She said.
When grandma turned 80, the 13 year old quipped, “Wow, she’s over the hill twice.”
Cute? Things Kids Say
by The Bag Lady
Guest for dinner, sort of a slob
Kids fascinated by the blob
Of food overrelished, mouth open wide
Children couldn’t believe their eyes
The oldest pipes up to my dread
“You must be really hungry!” he said
The guest must not have heard or ignored
As more helpings in cheeks he stored.
True story, 🤪
THE CORONA WALK-BACK
by The Rhyme Doctor
Today I was walking
Tomorrow I’ll be crawling.
The Corona has come
And has got me bawling.
I went to the store;
There is no toilet paper.
We’ve all regressed
And now must use a scraper.
Backwards we’ve gone.
Alas, we start to stumble.
A child’s toilet seat
Will surely make us humble.
Thank you all for playing along. You always brighten my day and liven up my night. Come back tomorrow around 10 a.m. MST for next week’s prompt.
Ellen: Here’s a badge you can post, if you want, to brag (again):
©2020 The poets, and their respective poems.