Vogon Poetry | Vogon Poetry Examples

Dire Stait Vogon-

Dire Stait Vogan

Aint been in self notting ham 
can't pure poured pig nostrils
wont chiff hanger choths bear kuddles
shant carburetor trial alphalawn
ain't all dentist parraish becon
can't worms don’t have teeth
width naw teeth I don’t eat

6/5/25
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2025©

IT'S OVER

When i said its over 
i meant it 
you should have just moved on instead of opening this 
its too late now
whatever you are trying to find , its long gone

ALTHOUSE POD-

Dun hill donuts don't make na change make no scents smelly, stinky non Everffiecent relvelenct tech no manure stench
Come apart partly cleft ain't none sun bench
Can't support the door when it hangs below the floor
crist, krash, dung
Life at the odhouse pod


4/24/25
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2025©

Devil's Muse

I sold my soul, no soulmate remains,
Just ashes and echoes of celestial chains.
I slipped through the cracks of the devil’s gate,
Now I’m the storm you’ll learn to hate.

Bad ideas bloom like roses with thorns,
I’ll rewrite the cosmos, watch it burn and transform.
Oh oh oh, the devil’s gone missing?
Oh oh oh, the demons are hissing.
Oh oh

WHIN-shine-

Such as in spindled spongey bargains lips
Casted both bolted skullduggery
Sappily candidly preside barrowed bricks
Philanthropy balled head lettuce apple tree
Restted rustic gondola swaying hips

Pressue mounts of disktoelay on the contraj
I am of I say displaced
An accomphishped barteded dan shunter
Rad taddered is the one “c” that’s blinded
Ship regaurd the paccswn

Angle fram bar grin
Possiticlee no shame
NoThIng-VoGoN
Drowning by the

My Precious Mother

My Precious Mother

Mother's love is pure and bright, 
Like the moon that shines at night. 
Through the storms and through the rain, 
She stands strong through joy and pain. 
Her gentle hands, so soft and kind, 
Wipe my tears and ease my mind. 
With her voice, so warm and true, 
She guides my heart in

Vogon Poetry Contest

Mea Culpa, but I Plead not Guilty.

Safe at home,
it was an ordinary day.
I was on PoetrySoup,
reading poems, page by page.
And then, the house shook,
I ran outside,
and to my surprise a light,
shining down from the sky,
lifted me off the grass. 

Darkness
is all I remember next,
no couch, no text. 
And then a Vogon voice
cooing in the black
uttered

The Disquieting Domicile of the Storms

Behold the abominable annals of the Storm domicile,
A living, groaning edifice of lumber and bureaucratic despair—
Where Allen Storm, the paternal prodigal of procedural pedantry,
Treads upon its creaking floors with the rigor of a misfiled memo,
And Betty Storm, matron of mundane mismanagement,
Douses its sentient walls with detergents of dire discontent,
While young Charles Storm, a cherubic herald

Tribute to my Vogon Valentine

My trusty twagwanger trolblasted me 
I’m woken by chitterlings and crampoons
twilling and twonking
I cover my mastificle
And try to hinkle on the bandistrap

As I splurtwangle my lickersplurge
I hear mercifulous melodies
Floating down

I dash to the bubbleblaster
And pick purple pongwinkles
To brighten my ardurachlego
I’m know they’ll wilt montoliously
Releasing rancid ramifrons
Which stink of chericock cheese …
An aroma from my heriboll
It

On the Threshold of Depravities' Door

I objestigate between arabesques and sleep,
fugaciously spasmodic in fluxes and leaps.
I'm indifferent to the misanthropic mocking,
that welltering inflection that I call plockingism.
It's their cheeky syncopated schisms that I rebut,
and yet they slantathunt for the right to boff.
Well, blanderluse I refuse, so let them scoff!

I derogate their impultritude and arrogance.
Drapple their smirking repudiation of my dance
for

Deep Time

In the enmeddling clingsome widewoven cleavage
Of the windwrapped menacehugging road
Torchurtoting time turns dangler of slopesliding sands
You slitrap the solum to seek the hideous nearlocked nook.

The crackfested road twisturns over your sleekshoulder 
Oops griplifts you on its saddlekradle oldie
The jeopordized jagged journey trottrots slothened
With the time’s dustrapped flagcart cranked.


At the edgeend of the ruinrubbled road
Tormentrudged time

Churning Chyme Vogon Poetry

If stars could see the sun~
slurping the grunglethorp grains
from sweat-soaked streams,
purging puddles of blurmorgris,
you’d hear the phazephonyx symphony
of my intestines churning chyme
into acidic rhymes~
releasing piled pain upon
a peezling palette of biled ballads.

But why are the whistling whirls
tangled in throttled thickets,
weeping amidst the periwinkle werifesteria,
grooving to the garglesome wind
that suffocated the cartilage 
within the dry throat

VOGON SOUPSTERS: Gangsters of Poetry!

Here, at The Restaurant at the End of the Universe, 

Poetrysoup is on the menu! 

And to save our sacred website, perhaps the world ...

We must entertain and enter vague conspicuous contests 
With a true Vogon vocabulary intent on an unworthy saving ... 
Or suffer the consequences of eternal annihilation
Perhaps even infinite damnation of one's

SPILLEGE SPOIL SYBER SIST-- Vogon Unofficial Anthem Poetry

SPILLEGE SPOIL SYBER SIST-- Vogon Unofficial Anthem Poetry


Infused intensity of immense ignorant
Boils of blast feme burbling
Crackle and gilling clump coils
Of filament retardants…..coverings

Egos frost bitten frozen bumps
Cabbage patch dolls provocateur
Running ruins caveating wretch
Worldly scum virgate arresting…..whose

Developing deepen darts of daze
Daring divorced deities
Spillage spoil syber sist
Rope gatherings of responsive reeps…..what?

Tweet twik ti tork
Tweet twik ti tork
Tork twik

How Time Has Gone

My, how wamburdsly vett skitterelees 
yammer in modduskwom, sutty slivers,
every pop muddleskiddly of red-orange, 
in zakrum, zezzledop, vixaddamoth blur!

To see maxfluppinnes' purpled zizum, 
at tillaradoom jazzowdline's tyll sass;
in pithy, murldizzily, gibborton ullius,
of dizzledop, rose, klixmuth contrast!

Exotion blue, wivern tuqlore so green,
and aximinuthy, of gold deemeried yox;
in burgundy-brown, tardily gimmixles,
and darkly, zimmery, villy moon shocks.

My, the

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