The Bad Poet’s Society

You may think that I write these poems to amuse you lovely readers, but the fact is I do it to amuse myself like a kid who has memorized a recitation and stands in front of whatever audience she can muster up with her hands clasped in front of her rocking ever so gently to the sound of her own voice. She loves the occasional run-on sentence and any chance to rhyme. That’s me.

But I am not alone.

I just became part of a society of such harmless souls. The fearless leader of The Bad Poet’s Society writes poems about dots and lives by the motto “Give pink a chance.” Like I said, harmless.

Ode to Dots

When I stop thinking

I am nothing

Just a dot

That loves pink

Occasionally pulses

And in the morning

Needs coffee.

.

.

Snaps, momma. And don’t we all need coffee. Here is my entry:

The Bad Poetry Jam

I think…

I’m one bad mamajama

I’d love to be a poetry slamma

I’d love to be coola

So cool I could school ya.

I’ll keep rockin’ these rhymes like a gramma.

.

And if that’s not bad enough, how about this one?

.

Ode to My Lack of Exercise

I’d much rather walk like an Egyptical

But it’s time to get on the elliptical

To get out of this rut

I must get off my butt

Saying tongue twisters that make my lips tickle.

Rubber baby buggy bumpers.

Rubber baby buggy bumpers.

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