WINNER of the Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest

I’m a bit tardy posting today. I’d tell you my life story, but I know you’ve already skipped to-

All right, all right. The winner this week is Peregrine Arc.

Zzzz

by Peregrine Arc

One more minute, I snore
One more minute soon turns into four.
Six am workouts sound so good on paper, when imaginary me’s do all the work.
Can’t I clone myself or snooze my way to fitness? I squirm and think.

Out I put my foot, my toe wiggles ’round.
It’s my radar scanner to see if all’s safe and sound.
It touches the floor, the rest of me still covered up in bed.
Brr, ’tis cold, brr shivers and shakes alive!
Back into bed, abandon ship and this dread!

Isn’t there a clause in the Constitution,
against cruel and unusual punishment such as these coming to fruition?

It’s for my health, it’s for my well being
I’ll get up in second, and do some….more…pleading.
Zzzzz…..

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

Whenever I enter writing contests and the host/hostess says, “You were all so good; I just couldn’t choose,” I know she’s saying a load of crap. Yet, here I find myself thinking it nearly every week. You guys are getting so ‘good’ at being terrible poets. Pat yourselves on the back for the dubious honor; you deserve it.

We can’t literally all be winners, of course, which is why Peregrine Arc scooped you this week. Other poems had plenty of elements that were so. darn. clever. I chortled. I cringed. P. Arc’s terrible rhymes, meter, message, and overall relatability got her in to contender status. I believe the overall poem is what bumped her to first for me. There’s just something universal about the thing, even though it’s a bit of a Frankenstein’s monster in its final form.

As to the rest of you, let’s get these things cross-stitched and hung on Etsy walls. Read them all below, and try not to laugh:

Keeping Your Head When All About You are Keeping Theirs

by masercot

A lazy man from Orleans
Slept upon a guillotine
The townspeople said, “Find some other bed;
if you sleep there much longer, you’ll lose your head”
Despite the people’s entreaties and pleas
He was only interested in catching some ‘Z’s
He finally compromised with the people of the town
And said, “So, wake me when the blade is half-way down…”

—–

“Watch me.”

by Violet Lentz

I started off
Dangling the proverbial carrot
Buying a new truck- for work of course
Promising my undying support,
Because he knew he already had my love
When that didn’t work I tried reason
“I’m working three jobs
Buying the food
Carrying it in the house
Cooking it
Washing the dishes
What may I ask is wrong with this picture?”
Sly little smirk,
Toss of the head
Walk out the door was his only response.
Eventually the level of frustration was so-
That even I got tired of listening to myself
Sliding down the back of the bathroom door in tears
“You can’t go through life being nothing but a good…”

“Watch me.” He replied. And I did.

—–

Lazy Cyril

by Bruce Goodman

Now Cyril, you should be studying for your exams
and not sit around eating yams.
It’s driving me crazy that you are so lazy;
why can’t you be more like your sister, Maisie?
When you grow up and get married, I bet
you’ll get your wife to light your cigarette.
I shouldn’t have to articulate
that you need to motivate.
Get inspired by your sister rather
than obviously taking after your father
who is the laziest son-of-a-B
that nature ever could concei-
-ve. Frankly I’m at the end of my tether,
and you think that sitting around doing nothing makes you clever.
Maisie is an inspiration to us all,
and she’s already, at her young age, starting to be able to crawl.
And Auntie Doris, who frequently gets constipation,
should be another source of inspiration.

—–

Lazy Bart

by Michael B. Fishman

I knew this guy named Bart.
He was lazy, couldn’t get him to start.
To get him in motion,
without causing a commotion,
I walked by him and dropped a big fart.

—–

Lazy Johnny

by Michael B. Fishman

I knew this guy named Bart.
He was lazy, couldn’t get him to start.
To get him in motion,
without causing a commotion,
I walked by him and dropped a big fart.

—–

A Sloth Stuck In Tar

by Donna Matthews

I can’t even believe
your hebetude
All day long I grieve
You said you’d move
You said I’d approve
I dared you to prove true
But in my heart, I knew

Your lazy known to all
A sloth stuck in tar
Instead of stand, you crawl
But now it’s time to improve
From this, you’ll behoove
Let’s make a breakthrough
Find something to do
Please and thank you!

—–

Go to the Ant

by Ruth

Go to the ant, thou sluggard
Says the Proverbs of a holy book
So I went to the ant and asked
Why was I told to come here
The ant said, with a sneer 🐜
I don’t have time to talk,
Do you hear?
I walk miles to find food for my queen
And if I come back empty legged
She screams: “where have you been all day?”
I die after working hard for a few weeks
Who told you to come watch me?
I’ll not motivate you, you lazy scum
Because if I do you’ll die real soon.
Go home and drink some rum.
The end!

—–

Get out, don’t slouch

by Lisa Bradshaw

As she came out that one so fat
I said yes please don’t sit in that flat
You must get out and go for a run
You know out in the sun is so much fun
get out get out and move that wobble
run up and down on the cobble
I don’t want to see that dent in the couch
I’ve had enough of you being a slouch

—–

MOTIVATION ENOUGH

by mistermuse

Laziness is only resting before working makes you tired,
so I’m writing this short poem before I get inspired.
This example will serve to show that being lazy
can motivate a terrible poem before it drives you crazy.

—–

You’ve almost motivated me with your stories of laziness. I’ll post another prompt tomorrow; get around to it when you can and enter for next week’s glory and prizes.

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

The Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest

Welcome to The Terrible Poetry Contest, a family tradition since about thirteen weeks ago.

Writing poetry is a daunting idea. We get in the mood, think of a lyrical phrase, and then run up against a metaphorical wall mid-stanza. While I have written a how-to on composing poetry legitimately, that’s not what this contest is about.

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The Terrible Poetry Contest is a chance for writers of all shapes, sizes, and ability levels to make a rude literary gesture to all that is good and decent about proper writing and contests. It’s a chance to do everything your poetry teacher told you not to. It’s a chance to shine when other contest-hosters left you alone in the dark.

If this is your first time, review my how-to on terribleness so you know what to expect. Then, read the following rules and please, please, please share something truly terrible:

  1. Topic: Motivating Lazy People
  2. Keep the length between 5 and 150 words.
  3. Rhyme if you want to; don’t if you don’t feel like it.
  4. Just keep things terrible. Make your listeners finally get off their lazy backsides just to do anything besides sit through another stanza.
  5. Keep your poem PG at most.

You have till 8:00 a.m. MST next Friday (February 22, 2019) to submit a poem.

Post your poem in the submission form below, or include or link to it in the comments much farther below.

 

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Photo credit:
Ken Treloar
Tom Morel