Let’s Hear it for Bad Poetry!

I thought I’d do a post on Bad Poetry today. Isn’t it appropriate, since I’m the Sovereign Minister of International Affairs of the Bad Poets’ society?

There’s a certain art to bad poetry. It must be clever, tickling the funny bone of criticism…something that makes you go, “That’s just SO BAD, it’s AWESOME!!!” And nonsense poems are excluded for the most part (a.k.a. assaulting home row and hoping that the “sldingsdlakjfaoeing” that it produces is somehow “Sterling,”). That leaves you to craft lines that are disturbingly gross, but somehow, just…work.

Lisa of Milkfever says that I’m good at it (She is too!), but I suppose that will be up to the public to decide…

ISLAND OF DREA,S

I sail overseas in my boat, boat, boat
Hoping for my boat to float, float, float, float, float, float
Over the frosty water.

To the island of drea,s
To where al drea,ers go
When they shut #their eyes shut
In the sun, in the rain, in the snow, snow, snow, snpw
The island of drea,s
Take me to the island of drea,s.

The island of drea,s
We have all drea,ed about
Where the trees are as tall
As the natives are as stout
As the tree stumps, stumps, stumps, stumps, stumps
Armed with arrows that are covered with featheries
Their warpaint is bright and their skin is leatheries
The island of drea,s
Is where I want to go
On my vacation, vacation, vacation, vacation, vacation, vacation
Vacation, vacation, vacation, vacation, vaccination, vacation, vacation
Vacation, vacation, vocation, vacation, brotwurst, vacation
Vacation, vacation
The island of drea,s, drea,s, drea,s, drea,s,
This is tedious, tedious
But can only be thought=up
On the island of drea,s, drea,s, drea,s, drea,s, drea,s, drea,s, drea,s, drea,s, drea,s, drea,s, drea,s, drea,s

Many people have wished to go there
On a moonlight night by boat boat boat
But they can only have a ticket
That allows them to be there
Till the break of broken daylight.

Drea, on…
Drea, on, islanders,
Drea, on.

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