INDIANA SMITH'S ORIGINAL WEIRD POETRY THREAD . . . .

[indianasmith]

I posted a short poem of mine the other night, and some folks liked it, so here is a spot for anyone who wants to post their own verse, not necessarily bad movie related.  Just some silly poem that you have written at some point ant want to share.  I'll kick things off with this one I wrote a couple of summers ago:

"While walking down the street one day,
an unusual sight came my way.
There on the pavement, wriggling, pulsating
were two grasshoppers, apparently mating.
The thought struck me like a sudden blow -
what better way for a creature to go?

So I squished them."




Your turn!

[indianasmith]

Wow!!!  No responses? Come on, guys, where's the love

Don't make me post "CARS AND BUNNIES AND PEOPLE IN BIG VANS"!!!

Don't make me do it . . . . because I will!

[ER]

Good poem! If I was a grasshopper, and had to be squashed, well, I'd only hope my ending would inspire such literature as this.

[CheezeFlixz]

Has name is Obama,
which sounds a lot like Osama.
And he ran on words of change.
Singing of hope, and admitted using dope.
A vote for him is insane.

Then there is Hillary
who lies with great skillary.
And husband screws everything that moves.
Corrupt to the core, a political whore.
It's all about her and not whom.

McCain is his name,
the one to blame.
For Bills that that offend his party.
While his wife is popping pills, he's up on the hill.
Crossing the aisle and laughing hearty.

Some heart the Huckabee
The presidential wannabee
Tell jokes and quips for laughter.
His son lynched a dog, the story covered in fog.
The race is all lost, what to do after?

Last there is Ron Paul
Who matter little at all.
Makes sense 50 percent of the time.
He rambles and a roams, more than the gnome.
And his train of thought can turn on a dime.

[Allhallowsday]

Indiana thinks he's a wit,
For small lives cares not a bit.
He's squashed two bugs,
With a grin on his mug.
In my mind, kind of a twit.   

[indianasmith]

OK, I will plead guilty on the grasshoppers  . .  . but they died happy!

As for the pillbug . . . it was a suicide.  No jury would convict me! 

[Allhallowsday]

As for the pillbug . . . it was a suicide.  No jury would convict me! 

"Pillbug..." what do you mean?  Oh, and where's your latest poem?    

Indiana has a sense of humor,
'Bout as funny as a cancerous tumor.
He might be a "twit"
And cares not a whit.
But with poetry can he do more? 

Thanks for having a sense of humor 'bout yourself.   

[indianasmith]

I originally posted that one in another thread . . .  but here you go!

ODE TO A DEAD PILL BUG, FLOATING IN MY BATHTUB

Little ball of segments and feet, when you were alive, you looked so neat
Now soggy and dead, you float along - little bug, where did you go wrong?
You wandered into a world of white, then felt the sting of how water's bite.
So take heed you pill bugs, stay out of my tub, or else you'll wind up in a similar rub.

[Derf]

Okay, it's not so short, but...

The Day I Ate a Bug

I rode my bike down Main Street
One lovely day in June.
The sun was out, the sky was clear;
I sang a merry tune.

I went to hit the high note
When everything went south.
You see, when I had opened wide,
A bug flew in my mouth.

It took me just a moment
To figure what went down;
I crashed my bike into a tree
And fell onto the ground.

Andrew rushed right over
To take charge of the scene
(You know where there's a bloody mess
You can count on a Marine).

He called the medics for me;
They took me in for care.
I had to stay there overnight
To see how I would fare.

When word got out about me,
People came to gawk
At the dope that ate a bug
(And maybe have a talk).

Conan came and said, "Great Scott!
Do you think he'll croak?"
The nurse replied, "He ate a bug.
Is this some kind of joke?"

Odinn7 took a break
From his hunting quest
To bring a squirrel-skin cap to me;
He really is the best.

Killer Bees swarmed to me
With a knitted funeral shroud.
Snivelly brought one also,
Then things started getting loud.

RC brought the music
And let the punk rock fly,
And Trevor soiled his undies,
Afraid that I would die.

Mofo coughed politely
To show that he's no thug,
But then he called me "Nancy-boy"
'Cause he eats lots of bugs.

Trek beamed down a moment
With a get-well tribble.
Peter cursed in Klingon
Just to start a quibble.

CheezeFlixz brought some 'gator,
Fried a golden tan.
Ash broke out his Magic cards
And beat me with Rodan.

Ulthar wrote a program
To figure odds of dying.
AndyC played arcade games
While SisterGrace tried scrying.*

Indianasmith said
He would pray for healing;
The nurse then shouted, "That's enough!"
And kicked them out with feeling.

When I left the doctor's,
I said with a shrug,
"I guess you find your truest friends
When you eat a bug."


*To the best of my knowledge, SisterGrace is not a witch, so don't try to build a bridge out of her. She simply claimed to be the creepy lady on her block, so I went with the image. And I needed the rhyme.


If I didn't include you in my poem, I apologize. If I did include you, I apologize even more. If I abbreviated your screen name in some unacceptable manner, forgive the poetic license. If I mischaracterized you, feel free to reciprocate. But be nice; I tried to be.

[Patient7]

Karma for DERF, loved the references.

[indianasmith]

GREAT CONTRIBUTIONS, GUYS!!!!

But it's a gloomy cold Saturday, so I think I have to do the unthinkable . . . my worst poem ever, written in the radio shack of the USS LOCKWOOD at about 2 in the morning, sometime in 1985 . . .

CARS AND BUNNIES AND PEOPLE IN BIG VANS

Oh cars and bunnies and people in big vans,
don't got no plastic lips, don't got no rubber hands;
They just sit around all day and read their Harlequin romance,
them cars and bunnies and people in big vans.

Oh cars and bunnies and people in big vans,
go all over the world and visit foreign lands.
They may not always have intact prostate glands,
but they're cars and bunnies and people in big vans.

Oh cars and bunnies and people in big vans
like to laugh at comedies and sing and dance.
Oh think what a terrible world it would be sans
those cars and bunnies and people in big vans.

[Rev. Powell]

In one small way it's too bad
Derf did not throw in the towel.
Who'd give a better eulogy
Than saintly Rev'rend Powell?

[RCMerchant]

This is by my younger brother Richie....I hope he doesn't mind me posting it...

MY LOVE-by Rich Merchant

Like venomous serpents
hibernating underground,
in the warm belly of the earth-
is where my evol can be found.

My evol hangs in the air
like dewdrops in a web.
My evol is everlasting
and will never ebb.

   Yeah...it's morbid and creepy...but that's my brother for you. And no...he's not a serial killer....(yet. OOOOOiiieeooooo...)

My own poetry skills run about like this-

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
My poetry sucks,
...and it dosen't even rhyme.

[indianasmith]

(with apologies to John Denver)

"Sunshine on my nostrils, gives me nosewarts.
Sunshine in my eyes, will make them dry up and shrivel in their sockets.
Sunshine, on the water, makes it evaporate.
Sunshine, Almost all the time, is fairly bright.
If I had a day, that I could give you  -
I'd keep it, so I'd live one day longer.
If I had a song that I could sing to you,
I'd record it and sell it and make a lot of money!

Because . . . ."  (repeat)

[RCMerchant]

Wow, Derf,I...I got mentioned in a poem. A POEM!!! (sniff,sniff)  I-I'm kinda all choked up.