I wrote a book called Write Bad Poetry. So when it comes to writing bad poetry, yes, I can literally say I WROTE THE BOOK ON IT. Ha! I love it.
I haven’t published said book yet, but we’ll get there eventually. The pandemic sort of threw everything into chaos + I had a 3 month long manic episode last year which was totally not fun and really got me behind on everything.
Anyways, to make this blog an official personal blog, I think it’s important to publish some bad poetry.
So, without further ado: I present to you a bad poem I wrote.
The Muse Nothing can quiet the muse today - She inhales the spices of sage And wants to make tea But the lightning of fire Has caught the disease There’s not enough ink, not enough paper She wrote a whole book in half an hour She paints the doorstops Red, yellow and blue Next she knows There is teal, orange and magenta next to you Cadmium yellow A beautiful fellow Kissed Cinderella and she hung herself from the wall, staring at the ropes that started it all The muse wants a blender, to combine all the things that aren’t to become all the things that are And yet she longs for December and it just feels too far She wants to make an inspiration box - a container to hold every fleeting thought - she must document decisions So she may understand the lines Lines are yellow, lines are red! I could talk about lines long enough to bore you to death. - she whispers secrets of the living room floor Why there’s black scratches etched by the door She wants to try every solvent, she’s assured us we can solve it - yet - She’s so loud we can see her no more She wishes to read lines about poodles in Faust She researched how mountains were made In case we should not be able to figure it out Must we quiet the muse? She is so well amused She’s got it all figured out No time to dust the shelves! She wants to write you a letter And draw you some numbers The fireflies sparkle in sage She’s found so much wisdom At such a young age Let us sing of the crocodiles Who walked all those miles to to your house... The muse won’t be shut in - she must be let out!
Now that we have a bad poem here, we officially have a personal blog! Hooray. 🙂
What do you think? Do you like my bad poetry? Tell me everything in the comments section below.