Filtering by Tag: badpoem

#Badpoem for When You're Down in the Dumps

Existence is meaningless, so we believe

In fairies, and Zeus, and in Adam and Eve,

In Mohammed, Paterno, Bumgarner and Jeter,

In Jesus, LeBron, Click and Clack, and St. Peter.

Call it fate. Call it nature.

It’s hard-wired our brains

To seek cause for effect,

To seek that which explains

Why Meursault shot that guy in the sun in Algeria,

Why ISIS beheads the do-gooders in Syria

Why heroes who selflessly care for the dying

Not only get sick but endure vilifying.

In her last fevered anguish at bleak Bergen Belsen,

Anne walked back her thinking on people’s essentials.

The fables of Aesop, the suras, the psalms

The wisdom of ages. Forget ’em. They’re wrong.

When the universe speaks, it speaks with asperity

Sit on your butt and forget about charity.

So there’s that. . .  but take heart, slip the slough of despond

By turning your eyes from the doubtful beyond.

By sugaring oatmeal and lacing up shoes.

By sweeping the stoop and foregoing some booze.

Give a dime to the homeless, recycle that bottle,

Grow organic tomatoes and improvise doggerel.

See each action taken, both little and small

As heroic defiance by us against all.

Make beauty, speak truth, do extravagant kindness.

How unwise. How absurd. And how else to define us?

Poem badpoem

Published on by Martha Freeman.

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Go ahead and praise me.

I promise I don’t mind.

These would be pop lyrics

If I weren’t so refined.


They say a no-talent can play

Bass adequately well,

Approximate the chords and fake

That teen spirit smell.


All I need’s a camera.

I’ll gel my hair in spikes,

Break out with a Youtube hit

And get a zillion likes.


Dire Straits wanted MTV,

And Warhol 15 minutes,

Icarus flew too near the sun.

Does that mean there are limits?


Still I’d risk the frightful plunge,

Shell out my last few dimes

For Facebook love and Googles of

My insubstantial rhymes.


But how ironic it would be

If these poor verses are

Not Twitter faved and Pint’rest craved



Go ahead and praise me.

I promise I don’t mind.

These would be pop lyrics

If I weren’t so refined.


Published on by Martha Freeman.

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Crazy Cat Lady 2

The crazy cat lady was so far gone

By the time the medics got there

That all they could do was tag her toes with limericks,

Hide her hair under a pink beret,

And draw daisies on her cheeks in Sharpie.


The cats were too busy playing to the cameras to care

Till Animal Rescue arrived and doused them with Glade,

And linked them tail-to-tail on a ribbon chain  

Like elephants in a circus parade, only

(Like I said),

They were cats. And weren’t they a sight?

The neighbors threw popcorn. Vultures came, and other thrill-seekers.

A din ensued and the cats slipped away, Animal Rescue foiled.

Much later, the crazy lady awoke, sat up, read the limericks out loud,

Scrubbed at the daisies, pulled down the beret and set out to wrangle cats,

Someone else’s or her own,

Last seen scanning the shelves at duty-free

For Toblerones and gin.


badpoem, cats, crazy cat lady

Published on by Martha Freeman.

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