Tag Archives: bad poetry friday

Bad Poetry Friday

Me c. June 1999

You cannot mold my body

I am the shape of my ansectors

I can bring any man to his knees

I am still a child

I wear my hair in a palm tree

I still take naps

I love adventures

I am a woman

I can dance until dawn

drive fast in expensive cars

and sleep with the enemy

I still have room to groq

don’t duge me in a glance

I change in a blink of an eye


Leave a comment

Filed under poetry

Bad Poetry Friday

Wishes c.12-28-1998 9:35 p.m.

I want him to look past

the size of my breasts

past the color and design

of ,y panty line

(or lack there of)

I want him to see the girl

behind the beautiful eyes

and uneasy smile

I want him to love me

the way I imagined he would

Leave a comment

Filed under poetry

Bad Poetry Friday

Deadly Obsession

Spring 1997


I promised you I’d quit

but why am I back to it?

Dying, crying, trying to stop

but I can’t.

My fingers are forced down my throat

I’m gagging and I start to choke

on my sobs

My skin is red

I’m so dizzy I don’t know

what I said

Just purging and purging for

the voice in my head

See that girl in the mirror

she looks different, maybe thinner

she looks like she losing

out to her dreams

Leave a comment

Filed under poetry

Bad Poetry Friday

Untitled 9/15/00

My crazy old lover

my crazy lover

talking to you today

made my heart feel the same

as it did we had our passion two summers ago

You have a signifigant other

why wasn’t I signifigant enough to hold onto you?

I will win you back, eventually

My crazy lover



I never won him back. But it’s not a sad story. We’re still friends.

Leave a comment

Filed under poetry

Bad Poetry Friday

“A Hooker Returning to Her Corner” 2/17/1998

A long time goodbye

happiness etched on a street corner

wrapped around an empty soul

to void the chill of deception

rain on flesh

rolling and fumbling

sorrow is no longer sweet like honey

seldom does she feel

what she is being robbed of

she once fell when

she wasn’t looking




Based on the word use in this poem and the date, I suspect it was one of my magnetic poetry creations. No idea why I would actually write a poem about a prostitute when I was 17.

Leave a comment

Filed under poetry

Bad Poetry Friday

Untitled (2/10/1998)

Used to be “Life of the Party”

laughing and drinking

away the pain

and now I’m sober and thinking

what a waste

my views changed

a little deranged

Now I’m a little depressed

just call me compulsive and obsessed

it ain’t that bad

just the best days I’d ever have



I was 17 and had never had a drink when I wrote this. Not sure if it was a bad poem or the start to a crappy song

1 Comment

Filed under poetry

Bad Poetry Friday

Untitled 8/22/00

Looking back on my past

I can’t help but laugh

at my insecurities

my desires

my doubts

But look at me now-

have I really changed

if your ignore

30 pounds

a once broken heart

and a turbulant soul

Leave a comment

Filed under poetry

Bad Poetry Friday

Skeleton Girl c. 1997

Skeleton girl by the pay phone

who calls you?

Is it your stung out lover?

Is it your mother?

It’s not like you’ll go very far

except in the backseat of a car

Skeleton girl by the pay phone

The call’s for you.



This sounds like I ripped off a Lisa Loeb song.



Filed under poetry

Bady Poetry Friday

Mike- 2nd Chance

You had time to pull your shit together

So why do you return to your asshole tendencies?

Do you enjoy driving me back to beer and cigeettes?

At least I know they’ll always be there

One of these days you’ll wake up

and realize I was the best thing ever to happen to you

and you screwed up

Funny how I thought you might be worth saving

and I sacrficed myself in the process



This doesn’t so much feel like a poem but rather an open letter. Man was I angry.

Leave a comment

Filed under poetry

Bad Poetry Friday

This whole poem is one giant WTF


Mike #2 (2001)

The biggest screw up I ever

screwed once told me

something I’d never understand

occasionally he’s speak of

his turbulent times

Hell, we’ve all been there

some of us just keep

repeating the cycle

mixing the whites with a pair

of red socks

and everything turns piss-colored pink

in those diluted moments

I contemplate returning to old habits

and bite my tongue so hard I swallow it whole

like the way he engulfed me with silence

Leave a comment

Filed under Uncategorized