Way back in the day, I told my buddy alex that I wrote a poem for him. This was a lie. I had been drinking and writing an evaluation from home–on a saturday night–and hearing from Alex made me giddy. When he asked to hear it, I stalled and wrote this in the span of five minutes. Considering out general dislike of Goth Kids, I think he really appreciated it.
My life is barren
and bleak
come enter my dungeon of despair
Oh why will no one enter my dungeon?
Is it not Dank?
Is it not Deep?
IS my makeup not perfect?
Is not my attitude snobbish,
yet persecuted?
Woe is me
Woe is me
Pass me a clove
Currently, I’ve been writing Haikus. I’m not sure I’m going to share those.
Technorati Tags: BadGothPoem
Hippopotamus
Sexy Hippopotamus
Hippopotamus
– One of the brothers of indeterminate number
Wah! The phone company HATES me!
I snap profusely at this fine prose. Lone tear making track through thick black eyeliner….
I can’t read the word hippopotamus without thinking of the bottomless lyrics of the hiphoppopotamus.
Oh noes! Please don’t tell us your the new Chuckles: bad poetry when you are all smitten!
It didn’t work for him.
I worry it may not work for you.
Haikus are never bad poetry, AG. Given the format, even the bad ones are good.
*cough* http://www.deadlounge.com/poetry/
YES!!! Man, I love this poem. And goths. And the goth’s pussy inbred half-brother, emo.
Thank you, Marty. You’ve given me volcanic levels of bile and digust to warm my itty-bitty black heart.
Shannon is right: There are no bad haikus Only bad pentasyllabic word.
At a recent Red Sox game, a member of the bleachers took it upon himself to recite a new haiku during each inning break. He did a great job, relating it to the events of the previous inning or the hopes of the forthcoming inning. The crowd awaited each new haiku with rapt attention.
Schmoopies, get out of here!
Are you going to do what I did when AG was flirting with Fish and be over here now keeping an eye on AG?!
Grrrr.