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  • The Suicide Suite at the Checkers Hotel

    The Suicide Suite The suicide suite At the Checkers Hotel, Goin’ straight from my room To the fires of Hell; The songs of Los Angeles Never miss a beat, Sirens chasing cop cars And beggars in the street; But in the hotel lobby All is safe and sane, The smile behind the counter Is genuinely inane; Bright brass flows all ...
    Posted to Bad Poetry Contest by Alyn on August 15, 2007

  • [Your Name Here], a love poem

    Your Name Here The fiery hues of a cool sunrise, The placid blue of a baby’s eyes, Ocean waves with frosted tips, The softness of a lover’s lips, In my heart each has a name, And in my heart the name’s the same: [Your Name Here]. The soft caress of short, blond hair, A taste of perfume in the air, The songs of birds in morning ...
    Posted to Bad Poetry Contest by Alyn on August 15, 2007

  • American Standard

    Standing strong and shining before me you are humble, docile your white curves seem to speak to me but Iam deceived for the still waters of your soul cannot be rippled I long to know what lies beyond to explore the churning chanels of your being I give away my worst, my pain and you receive it without complaint and always return with your ...
    Posted to Bad Poetry Contest by Freddy Benstein on August 12, 2007

  • What Makes Bad?

    like a buckit full of maggots and slimey fliesshe insists she loves even my dandruffbut who can love a lover who makes loveseem unintellijibel, like it was christmasand all store closed for months? I reston beds of fire and glass, pray Christwill let me share space on his cross. Sinister Metallicas beat their wings at night,waiting til the ...
    Posted to Bad Poetry Contest by Munsterman on August 11, 2007

  • Response

    every time i see., You. i Pee a little.
    Posted to Bad Poetry Contest by cnl2218 on August 11, 2007

  • grand theft philolexian

    This poetry contest is such a good ideaIt is almost something new. Slate should really acknowledge, though,That the Philolexian Society at Columbia University,A literary debating club both grand and a bit perverse, albeit,Got there decades before you: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joyce_Kilmer_Memorial_Bad_Poetry_Contest
    Posted to Bad Poetry Contest by malangali on August 11, 2007

  • To a Mockingbird

    Who was it that you flew to meet,Old fighter in Confederate gray?You swooped, enraged, across the street.(You didn't look the other way!) Indifferent traffic transformed youTo a birdcounter's statistic,And changed the way in which you flewFrom dynamic to ballistic.
    Posted to Bad Poetry Contest by rhymworm on August 10, 2007