Not sure why really...
I'd like to offer you my apologies,
with hair like mash and skin like sausages,
legs like a twiglet, belly like a melon,
won't you dance with me?

I'll start by shaking my hippopotamus -
bottom and wiggling ears like a pomplemouse,
fingers like a baked bean, arms like a brocolli
won't you dance with me?

I'll try to save your time and your energies,
by walking off with my feet like anenomes,
wave goodbye with my hands like cowpats,
you won't dance with me.
( SauronWibble I'll hold it, you lick it..., Fri 12 Aug 2005, 11:30, Reply)

I just wrote this and stuck it on our toilet door
On this door there is no lock
If you wish to enter please do knock
If you should hear a shout or scream
It is not safe to go within
If only silence meets your question
You may enter with no hesitation

I'm 18 so it counts

Apologies for subjecting you to crappy poetry
(therocker, Fri 12 Aug 2005, 11:25, Reply)

sap
it would seem like a dream
if my eyes weren't like flies
if my heart played no part
in this thing that i bring
on myself this bad health
no nights sleep tears that seap
from my skin may begin
to grow wings fly round things
and there stay far away
from my me "SANITY!"
they would scream as they gleam
in the sun having fun
on their own fully grown
and alive
( the_weird_beard, Fri 12 Aug 2005, 11:20, Reply)

To a girl who changed schools....

I miss you so much - the minutes seem like hours,
I wrote this poem because I can't afford flowers.

/hangs self from neck until dead.
( Goldfish_, Fri 12 Aug 2005, 11:16, Reply)

Double answer
This should have really gone in the old QOTW about dumping someone but I think it's (almost) relevant. To the tune of the Lionel Ritchie classic obviously:
I just called to say I've dumped you,
I just called to say I've got the clap.
I just called to say I've dumped you,
And you'd best go see the doc you f**king slag.
Thank you.
(NihilisticPenguin, Fri 12 Aug 2005, 11:14, Reply)

I did a valentine's card
with the caption

"Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
If you give me head,
I'll say that I love you"

It was worth a try I suppose...
(DrSoloManiac, Fri 12 Aug 2005, 11:12, Reply)

Romance
I used to go out with this girl who for some reason thought I was the romantic poetic type - despite an absolute lack of evidence that I was anything of the sort, and plenty to suggest I clearly wasn't.

She bugged me for months to write her a love poem and wouldn't let it go. So, finally, I conceded and penned the following. As I handed it to her the expression of delight on her poor little face lit up the room like a hundred watt bulb. The poem read -

"Look at the stoat.
He is a goat."

Her expression then changed somewhat.
(Ali Bongo 9000 Ali Bongo 9000, Fri 12 Aug 2005, 11:03, Reply)

Roger
I'm guessing someone else has posted the James Blunt Lyrics by now as an example of bad Sixth Form Poetry?

I guess I'll have to post something genuine.

I went through a phase as a kid where I was really into Roger McGough so I wrote something that sounded like him. Years later I freekishly remembered it when reading some of his stuff on a teaching course I was doing.

"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, Let down my tyres,
smashed all the windows and started small fires
in the glove box & boot of my brand new sports car.
Rapunzel, Rapunzel - You Have Gone Too Far!"
( NLi10 lurker - 10yrs & counting..., Fri 12 Aug 2005, 11:01, Reply)

Peotical destruction laid down by the Kids...
More song lyrics than poetry - SMS was the name of the band (Screaming Monkey Stick, rather than text message acronyms actually)

Hardman

I don't care what you say
And I'm not running away
Take you for a ride
Baby thats suicide

I killed a horse last week
Cos I'm a disco freak
I'm rising to the top
Like a creamy cock

There was one about having a wank on the M4 called Beat it Black...but I cannot remember how it went....
(Rockster77, Fri 12 Aug 2005, 10:57, Reply)

Poem of Poo
I wrote this in work one day when i was too drunk to do anything else. I was 19, so still counts as a daft teenager. Enjoy.

POEM OF POO

Nothin to do, oh im smellin of poo.
Got the same clothes on from last nite,
Oh god i am smellin of shite.
Nearly got lifted by a bobby,
I reek like a big giant jobby.
You should see me, im one hot burd.
Steamin away like a new fresh turd.
Im an alcy, well if the shoe fits
better watch, i'll start gettin the shits.
For my life I do fear,
It's out of control, this diarrhea(r).
I have to go, Im too drunk,
Just farted, i smell like a skunk.
(The Kinkster Returns, Fri 12 Aug 2005, 10:56, Reply)

topical genius limerick
there once was a website called b3ta
it was looked at by some chap called peter
he said "this question is shite"
i'll browse porn then tonight
and hopefully find a minge eater.

I thank you.
(dukefukem, Fri 12 Aug 2005, 10:52, Reply)

Not me, but emblematic of the 133t sp33k generation...
"Roses are Red,
Violets are Blue,
All my Base,
Are belong to you"
( Shrub Rocketeer is a twisted emotional husk, Fri 12 Aug 2005, 10:43, Reply)

Not mine but I remember seeing this on a wall when I was 13
If you want to shit at ease.
Put your elbows on your knees.
First a fart and then a squeeze.
Out it comes like lemon cheese!
( Big Ian has stopped changing his sig, Fri 12 Aug 2005, 10:33, Reply)

My First post - though been a B3ta fan for a long time
Old mother hubbard went to the cupboard to get her poor doggy a bone.
When she bent over
Rover took over
And gave her a bone of his own.

Little boy blue (blew) he needed the money.

Peter Peter Pumpkin eater
Had a wife and loved to beat her
He beat her twice around the head and fucked her ass and went to bed (lucky guy)

finally........

Hickory Dickory Dock
Some chick was suckin my cock
the clock struck 2
I shot my goo
and I dumped at the next block

Enjoy! Oh and thanks to my writer (Diceman Clay)
(Dodgyb, Fri 12 Aug 2005, 10:32, Reply)

The only poem I can remember
was this ditty, made with help of my mate Richard,

Old Mother Hubbard went to the cupboard,
And Dizzy Gillespie exploded.

There were many others I think, but they all ended with the line 'and Dizzy Gillespie exploded'

No clue.
(Redbull_(UK) pfffft, Fri 12 Aug 2005, 10:20, Reply)

I was 16 when I scribed this, based on a true sory too
My Christmas Poem:

There was holly and tinsel, a big Christmas tree,
Turkey and crackers and our family.
All us children were happily playing with toys,
Sindy dolls for the girls, Action men for the boys.
As the last gift was pulled out from under the tree,
and handed across, I thought what can this be?
So I ripped off the paper and pulled of the bow,
what could this gift be, well I just had to know.
Then there in my hands was my Christmas surprise,
'twas a new pair of pants,in a medium size,
printed over the crotch was a message so clear,
it said "if you rub gently, a Genie appears!"



I'd been given a pair of miraculous skids,
I was sure to be envied by all other kids,
a Genie meant wishes, and wishes meant cash,
I should use wishes wisely and not be too rash.
they must have cost millions,
they cant have been cheap,
and I tried them out later when all were asleep.



First I slipped in my left leg, then slipped in my right,
and stood proud in my pants, what a marvelous sight,
on the bed I reclined in my underwear gift,
and I rolled up my little right hand in a fist,
and slowly began gently rubbing away,
hoping my Genie would come out to play.



For roughly a minute i polished my knickers,
until something appeared 'bout the size of a Snickers.
Could this be my Genie just starting to grow?
I carried on rubbing at my down below,
and then suddenly deep within my groinal glove,
came a feeling of happiness,laughter and love,
" here comes my genie " I shouted and cheered,
but a wet sticky patch was but all that appeared.



Laying there on the bed with my moist genitalia,
I thought that my pants were a terrible failure.



But now that I'm older and I'm looking back,
and remembering gifts out of Santa clause sack,
I remember those pants with the message upon,
from my innocent childhood, those days now long gone,
and though I had no Genie,for those pants I give thanks,
as the taught me the joy that can be brought by Christmas.

(I've made a few changes over the years but its basically the same poem)
( Darryn.R, Fri 12 Aug 2005, 10:19, Reply)

.....
There was a man from China
Who wasn't a very good climber
He slipped on a rock
and broke his cock
And now he has a vagina


This one was sang quite fast to boys in my class we thought was gay!

HE'S BENT HE'S BENT
HIS ARSE IS UP FOR RENT

HE'S QUEER HE'S QUEER
HE TAKES IT UP THE REAR

Shocking and disgusting.... :-p
(Fran, Fri 12 Aug 2005, 10:17, Reply)

what is love?
a trick of the mind
a beat of the heart
a search to find
a brand new start
love is a stream
flowing by
love is a dream
climbing high
for it is flowers, laughs and cheers
but it is glowers, pain and tears
so help me now that i may find
true happiness in peace of mind
for surely THIS is love

and i wondered why i was single at school?

for fuck's sake.

the worst thing is, i got suckered into entering a poetry competition with it, greedily following the clicks to win a new audi. no new audi, but about 56 emails a week inviting me to poetry conventions, telling me i've won an award, telling me it's to be published in an anthology. jesus h.
( rachelswipe with a fork, Fri 12 Aug 2005, 10:13, Reply)

teen factory summer work hate fat chainsmoking slags show them I will
c*nt
c*nt
another c*nt
oooh
two c*nts
at once!
(lemonymillenniumbaboon, Fri 12 Aug 2005, 10:09, Reply)

Nuts
When I am dead and buried,
And on me stands a tree,
I hope it's nuts and berries,
And leaves are shaped like me.
(Jordy, Fri 12 Aug 2005, 10:09, Reply)

Not sure what my hormones were doing...
Oh, to be a daffodil
And feel the warmth of spring,
Verily now 'tis witching hour
And the dead of night draws in.
So gather crumpets, cauldron, fish
With music loud and shrill
And into yellow scented bloom
Transform at once, you will.
(Idid, Fri 12 Aug 2005, 10:03, Reply)

Limerick:
There once was a man from leeds
who swallowed a packet of seeds


He Died.


Thank you for your time!
*bows*
*fades away*
(Attention Whore, Fri 12 Aug 2005, 10:00, Reply)

on the long trip home
from the Hong Kong rugby sevens (a large drunken event involving scantily clad women, beer, inflatables and something about rugby) i wrote this 'gem'

There once was a young boy called Joe
Who said 'to the sevens I'll go!
Well he got a bit pissed
Oh the chances he missed!
And it made his rhyming bad.
(end, Fri 12 Aug 2005, 9:52, Reply)

A little rhyme from my youth...
I was walking down the street one day
In the merry merry month of May
When I was taken by surprise
By a skin-head twice my size
So I kicked him in the balls and ran away
(conuil, Fri 12 Aug 2005, 9:36, Reply)

.... ??
Roses are red,
My lips are blue,
I've just died of boredom.
Poetry? F*ck you!
( Humpty Dumpty was Pushed Is unaware of having any limits., Fri 12 Aug 2005, 9:28, Reply)

More terrible 'rapping'

In my last post I wrote about what a terrible teenage rapper I was.

Joy of joys, I've just remembered another one. (Best read in a stereotypical Surrey girl accent.)

We'll make your ice cream boil
Your sand turn to oil
[can't remember this line]
And your popcorn pop

What's worse in a rap, Latin or geological references?

*hangs head in shame*
( Pachey, Fri 12 Aug 2005, 9:07, Reply)