Best Badly Poems
We laughed at each and every thing.
You were my sovereign soul mate.
How could I know when I wore your ring
that you were the one would teach me hate?
So many days filled up with laughter.
Nights of unmistakable pleasure.
Then you hung me from the highest rafter.
Caused me pain too deep to measure.
I worked so hard to perfect and please.
Giving you everything I was made of.
In times of stress I'd bring you ease.
You flourished in unconditional love.
One night I came home late from work.
There was my telephone message blinking.
Turns out you're a heartless jerk.
You shattered me without twice thinking.
Those words still haunt me to this day.
"I simply can't go on pretending.
I need my freedom and right away".
How cruel the message you were sending.
Yet when I recovered from the shock
I picked up the pieces of my soul.
For years my heart was under lock.
But now I'm healed and once more whole.
I've heard that you never settled down.
That great love's never come your way.
Well karma reigns and you wear the crown.
That's really all I have to say!
for "Betrayal" contest sponsored by Frank H.
Categories:
badly, boyfriend, heartbroken, lost love,
Form:
Rhyme
This poem stinks.
It doesn't rhyme
It doesn't do anything
It has a little alliteration
well...
it will have some
because that's the easiest poetic element to incorporate
and if it didn't have any poetic elements
it would not be a poem
but would be prose with
randomly
inserted
carriage returns...
(are carriage returns extinct?)
and that would be dishonest.
This is not a lying poem.
That would be oxymoronic.
It's a stinky poem.
And when I finish writing it
I'm gonna print it out
and tear it up
into little bitty
teensy weensy pieces
(if I have enough patience to get that small)
and flush it down the commode
so it can join all the other
excrementally effluential essences
(note the alliteration)
of all the other stuff that stinks
almost as badly as
this poem.
Categories:
badly, art, funny, on writing
Form:
Free verse
limping badly
I walk into the room:
someone crying
Categories:
badly, age,
Form:
Haiku
I'm placing strings in needles and creating new seams
Pricking fighting fingers for what this brings
Opening the lines of smiles with softer things
but you like to rip
like to tear bandages
with no interest in blood
just the sound of a breaking, the wince
The mystery of what's under the covers
calls you here
but you play hide and no speak with bloodletting
Planning puppet shows in your dwelling
There is no more time to look for needles and strings
Let's lay it here bare
See how the clot of your presence
causes more hemorrhage
Thinking nothing of tachycardic pitter pats
I just figured that
this is how it flows
and maybe the sadist will enjoy newly marred skin
Soft pink hues clashing with new fabric, this is more than a bruise
I dreamt of babies in past times
So maybe you'd bless me
bring new dressing for wounds too old to place but too deep to forget
and you did, long enough for the browning of raised skin
creating camouflage of a better understanding
but what does camouflage do?
Stepping out of coverings revealing the ravaging you
You are sharp edges hitting kneecaps
splinters in my feet
You are strange slithering things beckoning to eat
wrapping choking, heavy body around all things meek
You are the reason for silver linings
You create shadows for the bleak
Categories:
badly, abuse, addiction, anger, betrayal,
Form:
Free verse
This poem stinks.
It doesn't rhyme
It doesn't do anything
It has a little alliteration
well...
it will have some
because that's the easiest poetic element to incorporate
and if it didn't have any poetic elements
it would not be a poem
but would be prose with
randomly
inserted
carriage returns...
(are carriage returns extinct?)
and that would be dishonest.
This is not a lying poem.
That would be oxymoronic.
It's a stinky poem.
And when I finish writing it
I'm gonna print it out
and tear it up
into little bitty
teensy weensy pieces
(if I have enough patience to get that small)
and flush it down the commode
so it can join all the other
excrementally effluential essences
(note the alliteration)
of all the other stuff that stinks
almost as badly as
this poem.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
was just diggin' through the archives and this one made me giggle and reminded me that I've places to go and people to see and mustn't procrastinate longer because the LAST MINUTE approacheth
Categories:
badly, on writing and words,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
I am raging mad. Wishing I had hot molting killing lava to pour on that ugly human in the funny clothes who violated me yesterday. Feeling a thrill thinking of the pain he would have felt yesterday when he was poking me with his damned tools if I had been able to access my lava field. I know there is an orange and black fire deep inside my recesses, however, they are difficult to bring up when you need them. Yesterday I felt disappointed and sad that I could not access her at will. I am angry today that I am sore, pierced, and unmercifully staked by these ugly confining posts and their equally ugly wires.
Three dragonflies, a multitude of butterflies, and grasshoppers continue to hop around on me, and easily glide through the ugly fencing, blissfully unaware at the rage I am feeling today. This angers me even more. If I hurt, I want everyone to hurt. I groan loudly, trying to access my lava. My grasses quiver, aware of my broken dreams, and severed roots, angry too at the ugly piles of dirt at the bottom of these ugly pokey things.
I had hoped to stay wild, unencumbered, and free until the end of the world. It is here now, for me. A large ugly piece of equipment stops on the road. Good. At least it is not driving on me! Two uglies and an uglier get out. They are leading a baby bull toward my sore, pierced, ugly hurting self. Just when I thought nothing could get worse! My grass raises on end, and I shudder. It is bad enough I lost so many wild strawberries, so many batches of clover, and so many wildflowers yesterday when that ugly was posting me. Now this? My tall grasses strain hard, trying to bring forth the lava. The young bull is lead into this now ugly circle enclosure. The other uglies shut the gate, and secure it. Ouch! I yell, but they pretend to not hear. The baby begins chomping at my grasses, and surprisingly it does not hurt as much as I thought it would. Actually, it feels liberating. I settle down a bit, as the happy flying things scatter.
Categories:
badly, anger, farm, nature,
Form:
Personification
Eating Badly with diabetes is a Suicide Mission.
I know, because Artur Anczarski, says so.
He is the Prophet, he is the Saint,
And nothing he says, is ever quaint
(it simply ain’t)
As for exercise and diet, ‘you don’t do either!’
(which is not – anymore – entirely true, but it WAS, once)
Explode my mind with FRAGILE DELICACY, why don’t you, brother?
(If he hadn’t, I never would have moved, he doesn’t sugarcoat the cake, he throws it out
And gives me meat, instead)
What is sweet in the mouth, is bitter in the belly (a big one).
Eating badly. Never worth it.
Categories:
badly, appreciation, depression, food, introspection,
Form:
Prose Poetry
to have you hold me like you use to. to constantly voice how much you love me even when
there is no reason too. to show me tha i actually mean something to you even when im not
returning the favor. wanting to be back to that person i once was where i couldnt help to
think about you. having dreams that we were that perfect couple wanting to never stop
talking to you cause knowing that as soonas i hang up i would be missing you like crazy
Categories:
badly, lost loveme, me,
Form:
Free verse
From school and friends, kids have been barred
Leaving them anxious, emotionally scarred
These kids, the teachers have badly betrayed
Staying out of their classrooms, but still getting paid
Categories:
badly, betrayal, children, emotions, teacher,
Form:
Epigram
My name is unknown. It means confused, broken and lost.
This is the memory of when I learned to trust again.
It was like it was yesterday, I had just gotten out of a bad relationship.
I ran into a friend who was very worried about me.
He told me to go for a ride with him, so I agreed.
I was pulled up on his motorcycle
he asked, "Do you trust me?"
I nodded and he put a helmet over my head and tightened it.
He started the motorcycle and I held onto him close.
It reminded me of my depression state.
I had wanted to harm myself so bad, but I never did.
He began to drive the motorcycle to the top of the mountain.
Just then did I realize that I only felt safe with him.
It was dark outside with the only light coming from the new moon.
As we reached the top I saw the sun was about to rise soon.
He took off my helmet and he intertwined our fingers.
We made eye contact not breaking it
Then we went to the edge to sit.
It began to get cold
As if he heard my thoughts he began to hold me.
He asked me once again "Do you trust me?"
As I said yes he got up taking me with him.
He held me in his arms facing me
He confused his love for me
Before I had any time to react
We shared our first kiss.
My name was unknown
That's because I was broken and confessed
Now I realize that a name does not define you
Rather the name you give yourself does
My name is Ara and I'm proud of it
Because I learned who I am thanks to him.
Categories:
badly, boyfriend, feelings, first love,
Form:
An actor returns to his Beverly Hills mansion –
blows his brains out with a 38 special.
I must have dozed off,
cops at my door,
a line of chain-smoking flashbulbs
in baggy turn-ups.
I watch myself being taken away in a body bag.
The movie is badly spliced.
Black Packard’s keep morphing into flying saucers.
We are all wearing hats,
even the writers in the backroom
are wearing wide-brimmed hats.
The women are wearing hats.
They wear pencil thin skirts,
and talk out of the side of their mouths.
A screen flickers;
a skinny man behind an obscuring microphone
apologizes for the delay.
Meanwhile, space aliens have landed in Brooklyn,
and are exterminating people in hats.
It’s a radio show hoax,
but I don’t know that –
until I wake-up
into a world filled with terror and chaos,
but there are no aliens and few brimmed hats.
I check that my Glock is loaded.
I can’t sleep.
Categories:
badly, poetry,
Form:
Blank verse
Tread lightly on my badly wounded soul
Lest it return in spectral manner borne,
Time will atone for the happiness you stole.
Ponder the ways you can make it whole
The one you purposely caused to mourn
Tread lightly on my badly wounded soul.
All deeds are written on memory’s scroll
Some like the rose; some like the thorn
Time will atone for the happiness you stole.
Do not consider your bullying a mere stroll
In your wilted gardens of sarcasm and scorn
Tread lightly on my badly wounded soul.
Your hurtful ways will surely take a toll
For eternal recompense has been sworn
Time will atone for the happiness you stole.
You will experience payback, like the troll,
Who thrives on bullying, I must forewarn,
Tread lightly on my badly wounded soul,
Time will atone for the happiness you stole.
written July 24, 2021
Categories:
badly, anti bullying, bullying, hurt,
Form:
Villanelle
Hold This Deeper Thought, Love Is What We All So Badly Need
Black shadows from a bad ailing sun, little to no hope
Stains that inch their way into a most badly bleeding heart
Why does the rope burn and the wanton spirit fail to cope
Are we blinded prisoners from birth, a condemned start.
Yes and no, none are so free as those that give not a damn
As they walk through their lives caring not for morality
Is the bold truth a Hollywood fable, a cursed slam
We swim poison rivers immune to their dark reality.
The local tavern fills up and its dead learn to slow dance
Saturday night they spout out vividly gigantic lies
With the screaming dreams, the hopes on a wayward chance
That the guilty earth splits, and time ends and everybody dies.
Hold this deeper thought, love is what we all so badly need.
And we were given birth, born as crop from Heavenly seed.
Robert J. Lindley, 3-26- 1972
Sonnet
Age 18
Categories:
badly, art, humanity, imagination, love,
Form:
Sonnet
HOW HIGH IS THE VALLEY?
HOW DEEP IS THE MOUNTAIN?
HOW DARK IS THE LIGHT?
WHAT LIES LIES WITH TRUTH
WHAT’S TRUTH IN LIES
I CAN SEE ONLY THIS FAR
I CAN HEAR ONLY THIS MUCH
MY HEART IS SET ON THINGS AFEW
I’M THINKING WITH MY FEET
I’M AN ANGEL’S WITCH
I’M THE SINFUL PRIEST
I’M THE HOLY THIEF
OUT OF THIS WORLD, I AM
NOT IN THE NEXT
ALL’S WRONG THAT’S RIGHT
ALL’S RIGHT THAT’S WRONG
ALL IS LENS, THIS WORLD
IT MIGHT JUST END BADLY.
Categories:
badly, fear, how i feel,
Form:
fire we must stoke
until became badly broke
out from sand head poke
they elicited
what is to be conflicted
became afflicted
when we have been good
was God who would make us good
making me feel good
Jesus in crib laid
God wind and waves had obeyed
great world for me He made
had been notified
that her death was verified
the I cried and cried
God gave gift to girl
a pretty and perfect pearl
was out of this world
ingrained idiocy
actual validity
pure stupidity
Categories:
badly, allegory, analogy,
Form:
Haiku