The Indys second annual Bad Poetry Contest even worse than last year!

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This poetry's terrible, horrible ... TERRIBLE!

Which isn't that hard: poetry is unbearable.

We've got Shriners and whiners and bad kung fu rhymers

We've got young bards, avant-gardes, Hallmark cards, old-timers

We've got poems of football and clever acrostics

We've got waxers on cheese and love: all of them caustic.

There's one thing upon which we all should agree:

The only thing worse than bad: Good poetry!

The depths of the soul? That empty old crater!?

Let's get down to shallow: the worser, the greater.

The prizes? Like last year, an Indy T-shirt

Fitting prizes for sucking -- for being the worst!

--Noel Black Fust Prize

I'll surely be fust

Cuz my poetry's the wust

-- John M. McCarty

The "Whoa, This is

Seriously Weird" Award

We do it for the kids

When you see a Shrine clown,

and he's doing his schtick.

Like making a balloon animal,

or a slight-of-hand trick.

He may be walking in a parade,

and entertaining the crowd.

He's not, just a funny clown,

but, a Shriner oh! so proud.

You see behind that grease paint,

and those funny baggy pants.

He's doing what he's doing,

to give a kid a chance.

A chance to walk,

and run and play.

To enjoy their life,

each and every day.

So when you see a Shrine clown,

my friend, have no doubt.

We're doing it for the kids,

that's what we're all about.

-- Jerry Proctor

The "Caustic Acrostic" Award

Colorado Springs

Indeterminate gender types,

Nudist fur protesters.

Defenders of a gay agenda,

Evangelists and church jesters.

Peak view advocates,

End growth agitators.

Noisy plane complainers,

Delivery pizza violators.

Every type of street person,

Nerds, techies and warmongers.

These are the good folks ... of my hometown.

-- Herman Gurule

The "Thank You For Expressing My Ennui" Award










-- Ryan Getskow

The "Ha Ha, They're Already 5 and 2, Sucka" Award

Ode to the Denver Broncos

A team that was once so great,

Now plays each game on life support,

and faith

Clinton Portis runs with rigor mortis,

Jake Plummer..............

What a BUMMER.


Eight and Eight,

Six and Ten,

What's the difference there will be......


--J. Kosley

The "Rhymes With Wit" Award

Shit on the carpet

Shit on the soles of my shoes

I'm glad it's not summer outside

The house would be full of flies.

-- J. McKibben

The "Can You Tell I Read The New Yorker?" Award


Lost floating stars bump and drift in a

yellow pollen haze,

Symbols smudged away by small,

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sticky digits

From soft balloons drooping flag like

at half-staff in the heat.

Shuffling feet hum passing by in four-

four measures

While applause supports the quarter beats

Encouraging the spirit of the day.

Later, Chinese chrysanthemums burst

and blossom overhead

Growing in the sky,

Raining flaming petals

Before our weary eyes

-- Sandra Korey

The "Duh, Gee Boss, Do Ya Think We Should Call This The Cheesy Award?" Award

To Whom It May Concern

Cream cheese

Bright as the moon

You can lick it from a spoon

You can smear it on your feet

And frolic in the street

Cream cheese

Soft, smooth and creamy

Ooh it is so dreamy

Can be flavored or plain

Hey get the mail

Oh it's from Jane

Cream cheese

Cream cheese

I am now so sick of cream cheese

I see it in my dreams

This poem really sucks

Oh who gives a f**k!

-- Rebecca Lawhon

The "What's With All These Cheese Poems?" Award

I like Cheese

Of cheese:

Ally cheese as a friend

alike to cheese

is processed cheese

she is a fake of cheddar cheese

and the others are of cheese

-- Brett Bossert

The "Hot Lava From a Volcano" Award

Love At First Sight

I have heard before that love at first

sight does not exist

But how else can you explain a face

and a smile that you could never resist

A face with a glow as radiant as hot

lava from a volcano

And a smile that makes your body

tingle as if you were lying in

the snow

When I first looked into your eyes my

voice wanted to shout out in song

At that very moment I felt that nothing

in my life would ever again go


When I first touched your skin, it was

as if I was touching heaven itself

And when your lips first introduced

themselves to mine, I wanted

to melt

Now with every single breath I take,

my yearning for you grows

stronger and stronger

What I feel for you inside is so over

whelming, I am not sure if I can

take it any longer

Just reliving our few times together is

enough to consume my very soul

When I see you again I am sure my heart

will have nothing to do but explode

Day by day, just the anticipation of seeing you gets more and more

out of hand

The butterflies I get just thinking about

such a day is enough to drive me mad

I guess what I am trying to say is there

is a place for you in my heart

always and forever

For any woman that thinks she could ever

rid my heart of you, the answer is never

I have never in my life known something that could feel this right

That is because when my eyes first saw

you, I loved you at first sight

-- Ramesce Ray

The "Lactose

Intolerant" Award

There once was a man from Buchanan

Who knew all shots came not from cannon

But it wasn't the whiskey

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That made him so frisky

It was yogurt created by Dannon

-- Elaine Curtis

The "Ph.D. Stands for

'Phenomenally Dumb' Sonnet" Award

Ode to APA

A writing style scientific

Psychologists say it's terrific

But, expressing only present-tense

History makes no sense.

Level headings obviate

Prose that may obfuscate.

Heading levels multiply,

Contending with the very sky.

10 to 12 for title length,

Brevity here is not strength.

Adverbial usage criticized,

Pronouns only need apply.

Odious in form and flow,

These manuscripts truly blow.

-- Debbie Rice

The "Low IQ Haiku" Award (Tie)

The Frog

I had a pet frog

It died over the weekend

It won't croak again

-- Brett Bossert


La la la la la

La la la la la la la

La la la la la

-- Brett Bossert

The "Don't Have a Cow" Award

The Angry Cow

[Mad Cow Disease]

I never met an Angry Cow,

I never hope to meet one;

But I can tell you, anyhow,

I'd rather meet than eat one!

(after Gelett Burgess' "The Purple Cow")

-- Guy Finamore

The "Never Bathe Again" Award

Park Love

(Or: Somebody get me a Paxil, quick)

I was sitting calmly on a park bench,

When I was overpowered by your

wretched stench

Your bloodshot eyes were locked on

mine in a riveting stare.

I never noticed your greasy hair.

That aqualung exterior was somehow


I could not believe the attraction that

was occurring.

Your smile was full of rotting teeth.

Yet, I saw a beautiful person underneath.

I have never had much luck with men.

Your animal magnetism pulled me in.

Your clothes were soiled and full of holes.

But we were two predestined souls.

Brought together by the powers that blind,

We danced together in the park, forever entwined.


-- Barbara Loomis

The "Fowl Poetry" Award

Angelina and The Peking Duck

Angelina wasn't tall

She was small

5 foot 2

It would rhyme if her eyes were blue

But they were brown

Deep cocoa brown

Rich and soulful

The Peking Duck wasn't from China

He was the Goodwill ambassador

At the China Garden

Across the street from the bookstore

And around the corner from the Jewish Deli

He might have been a merganser

But I'm not sure that's a variety of duck

The Peking Duck loved to chase small


And delighted in their squeals of


When allowing them to pat his soft

feathery head

I loved them both

Angelina and The Peking Duck

But my love went unrequited

Except by the duck

-- Donald T. Johns

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The "Finally, Someone Has Expressed My Feelings About Gardening" Award

Ode to a freezin' fern

At long last the lawn

No longer needs a'mowing

Intrusive weeds

And stubborn flowers

have now ceased growing

So good-bye coreopsis

So long lone rose

Let the garden have its deep repose

I recall a man who said

Till your own garden and

Be content I see now what he

must have meant

(He's long since dead)

I secretly exult when plants are

put to bed.

-- Chuck Emery

The "That's So Deep I Forgot to Feel" Award

Inner complexities of dynamic forces, played out while interacting at social functions, which could be misconstrued as sarcastic parody but in reality juxtapose sociological myths both past and present. Defining nothing.

If your identity is your clothing, wealth, gender, political beliefs, profession, sexual preference, religion, or possessions, then ... you have no identity. So sad, so sad.

-- Atomic Elroy

The "Bad Still Means Cute at Your Age" Award

My Attitude

Sometimes I have good days and bad days.

Sometimes I get my anger out and

sometimes I just freak out!

I am danger itself.

But you know as well as I do I have a

good side too

but good is not too much of me.

I love and hate my attitude

as well as you love and hate your

husband or wife or anyone you love.

So ok you must know how funny the poet is.

Just the day before yesterday,

I was playing basketball and

I stubbed my fingers and

I got really mad.

So I threw the basketball at a wall and

it bounced and hit me in the jaw

My jaw almost broke.

-- Christian T. Stair (Age 11)

The "Hey, Feminism Can Be Funny!" Award

My Apron

My apron is my armor

I put it to the test

Each time I lift it over my head

and let it rest upon my chest

Without it?

I am useless

A poor defenseless mouse

But, with it?

I am Wonder Woman!

Just watch me dust this house!

I'll bake a dozen pies for you,

I'll paint a portrait, maybe two!

But, if you're here and IT'S NOT


Then, of my tired old body beware!

For "Apron On"-be glad to see!

But, if it's off?


-- Kelly Hannah

The "Hey, You, Over There: We Must Fight!" Award

Bruce Has the Juice

Bruce Lee,

he's my guy,

punchin' and kickin'

way up high.

Chinese Connection,

Enter the Dragon.

Object of my affection,

You keep my tail awaggin'.

You say he's dead, you say move on.

A new kung fu hero? I'll definitely


Bruce is the master, even though he's


And Jackie Chan is a freakin' pain in the ass.

-- Julie Stumpff

The "Dude, Trippy" Award

Crunchy Eyelids Flaming

Yummy buckets fill my fridge

Eyelids have it

Yeah, yeah

Burn a soul-kiss into my forehead

Crunchy eyelids

Yeah, yeah

Smack a tree with my eyes shut

My poor car, a tragedy

Set aflame in all but glory

Crispy optics are my friend

-- Jonathan Martin


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