Blowflies Poems | Examples


List of Member Poems

Rotting In Love

As tears fall
I open my moldered eyes to see myself
Blurred and grotty
I’m beginning to rot now
My skin melting into my bedsheets
Moldy and itching with pests
Am i one of them? 
Am i another eyesore?
Am i as revolting as the blowflies?
I’ll admit that i feel
Repugnant in love
But how can that be so
When i rot for you?
Look at what i’ve done
All for you
I have never hurt so badly
And this time it’s not because
Of the bugs shredding my skin
Burrowing
But because you never left my heart
You were always there
Just another maggot
Burrowed in my flesh

Premium Member Flies

summer's plentiful
houseflies eat cat food, dog poop....
slurp coffee, cough, spit  


These past three summers have been awful for houseflies and blowflies coming inside my home every time a door is opened. I use fly swatters and bug spray to try to kill them but not so successful sometimes. Twice here lately I have seen one in my nearly empty glass or coffee cup. Yuck. Thank God I saw it before I drank!!!!

I think this is probably a combination of Senryu and Haiku

Blow the Blowflies

Why did God make blowflies? 
To try our patience 
There is no doubt. 
They'll land on juicy steak 
When you leave it out 

Very soon you will find 
Little maggots wriggling on fresh meat 
The blowfly has laid her babies 
Now isn't that so sweet? 

That's what God intended 
All his creatures do 
Go forth and multiply 
That is his golden rule


Holy Cow

Life in the house is pretty easy these days,
what with washers, vacuams, fridges, and microwaves.
My poor old mum had none of those,
just the old fashoined copper, and scrubbing board, to wash our clothes.
No mains water, or power, 
so of course, there was no shower.
Meat safe hanging in the tree outside,
giant blowflies, committing suicide.
Baking a cake was quite a feat,
for the wood stove had to be kept at a constant heat.
At night the kerosine lamp was lit,
for a nighttime visit to the bog outside, one required a candle for a sit.
Hot water cylinder rumbling away,
meant the wood stove had been going all day.
The old flat iron, for ironing clothes,
permanent press, there were none of those.
I know exactly what my old mum would say,
if she saw the gadgets we have in our homes today.
Holy  Cow.

Holy Cow

Life in the house is pretty easy these days,
what with washers, vacuams, fridges, and microwaves.
My poor old mum had none of those,
just the old fashoined copper, and scrubbing board, to wash our clothes.
No mains water, or power, 
so of course, there was no shower.
Meat safe hanging in the tree outside,
giant blowflies, committing suicide.
Baking a cake was quite a feat,
for the wood stove had to be kept at a constant heat.
At night the kerosine lamp was lit,
for a nighttime visit to the bog outside, one required a candle for a sit.
Hot water cylinder rumbling away,
meant the wood stove had been going all day.
The old flat iron, for ironing clothes,
permanent press, there were none of those.
I know exactly what my old mum would say,
if she saw the gadgets we have in our homes today.
Holy Cow.

Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.

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