Category : Bad Poetry

  • May 7, 2012

    Our Annual Bad Poetry Contest is Back!

    by

    Great news: The 2012 Bad Poetry Contest is here!  

    As you know, each day here on the blog we offer wisdom and thoughts on the business and careers of writing. And over the last six years, it’s proven helpful enough that Writers Digest has again named us one of the 101 Best Websites for Writers. But one week each May (the week of my birthday), we take a week off from the business to continue a wonderful longstanding tradition of creating truly awful poems. All you have to do is go to the bottom of this post, hit “comments,” and leave your bit of doggerel. The rules are simple:

    1. Don’t sent me a birthday poem. That’s not the point. Anyone who sends in “Happy Birthday o’ Chip o’ mine, hope this finds you well and fine” will be banned for life.

    2. Write a truly bad poem.

    That’s pretty much it. We want to see your poetic soul. The rotten rhymes, the horrible haikus, the crappy couplets, the stupid cinquains, the execrable epics. We’re after flatulent free verse, sorry sonnets, putrid petrarchan, rachitis rondeau, sickly sestina — um, okay, you get the picture. A quick view back over previous winners reveal such treasures as Blind Puppy on the Freeway, Walleye Eludes Me, and Krziette, which contains this memorable line: “Krziette, your love for me was like lowing of she-goats in spring, when bald sparrows alight on budding bushes.” It’s that sort of deepfulness that will cause you to win.

    And there WILL be a winner, of course. Each year, we select a truly fabulous grand prize (previous winners have included a lava lamp, a home-tattoo kit, a 45 record of Neil Diamond singing “I Am, I Said,” and a copy of the immortal self-published tome “How to Good-Bye Depression”). This year’s collectible super-prize will be THE LADY GAGA STYLE BIBLE, which should hold wide appeal to all trampy girls,

    Continue Reading "Our Annual Bad Poetry Contest is Back!"
  • April 10, 2012

    Sandra’s Favorite Book…

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    While Chip is vacationing in Hawaii, look for posts from the rest of the MacGregor Literary staff. Not surprisingly, “Favorite Books” is the topic of choice for our crowd of book lovers. Don’t be afraid to chime in with your thoughts on these top picks.

    Sandra_1

     

     

     

    Sandra Bishop is a literary agent with MacGregor Literary, Inc. and represents fiction and nonfiction authors in multiple genres and with varying levels of publication background. She was recently named Vice President of the agency.

     

    When I was growing up, my grandmother always kept a copy of GONE WITH THE WIND by her chair. Always.

    When she needed to put her feet up and rest from her work, she would grab it and read a passage—it rarely mattered where she’d left off. She didn’t use bookmarks. She’d just pick it up and “visit with Scarlett,” sometimes out loud.

    I have a fondness and appreciation for the commercial success of Ms. Mitchell’s book, of course, but mostly my fondness is driven by how much the book reminds me of someone I loved dearly. I consider it one of my most fav-o-rite treasures, though I hesitate to leave it out in its condition. It lives on my bookshelf, its pages tattered and torn, and its cover made over with a scrap of wallpaper from Grandma’s last kitchen.

    I’ve heard it said that if it were being sold today, it would never make it. Too much description. Pacing problems, etc. But that’s another blog post for another day, perhaps by someone who has read it more recently than have I.

    I may not have inherited grandma’s everyday huger for tales of Tara, but I did retain her habit of reading a passage of a favorite book on occasion—just picking it up and thumbing to a random spot to read for a bit. It’s been awhile, though, since I’ve allowed myself the joy of stopping

    Continue Reading "Sandra’s Favorite Book…"
  • May 11, 2010

    And the winner is…

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    The 2010 Bad Poetry Contest is now complete, and let me just state that this is further evidence of the rampant use of illegal drugs in this country. We have a number of weiners…

    THE EVIL WIND AWARD goes to James L Rubart ("The Great Rudini") for this bit o' badness:

    The Wind

    The wind came softly, like a cat crawling up on top of my head and settling down for the afternoon,

    It wooed me from my complacency, from my depths of malcontent, from my moment of melancholious daydreaming,

    It brought upon its unseen arms a dandelion spore which danced upon my ear, carrying with it the promise that spring had arrived and would not be leaving soon,

    The wind,

    The wind,

    The wind,

    I stretched forth my hands and embraced my cousin, my brother, myself, my soul,

    The wind,

    The wind,

    The wind.


    You read that, and you just realize Jim should never have broken that particular wind. Speaking of foul winds, Betty Castleberry won this year's coveted WORST WINDY CRUD AWARD with a doozy entitled "Life Wind"… 

    The wind blows life my way
    And deposits stuff in my hair
    Like molded sprinkly things on doughnuts

    But not just in my hair
    It leaves trash in my soul
    In the deepest, most private part of my soul
    Where nothing, not even the wind, should ever go.

    But now it is there
    Like some kind of armed intruder
    With a big, evil weapon

    A weapon that has spikes
    And shoots bullets, too
    A weapon that will not let me rest
    And keeps me awake almost every night

    My torment is awful
    Really awful
    I just can't explain how awful

    But it is a little bit like
    Smelling a skunk
    Or watching somebody 
    Self-pierce their navel

    Will this black wind ever cease,
    Or am I doomed to
    Rancid skunk smells forever?


    The

    Continue Reading "And the winner is…"
  • May 11, 2010

    And the winner is…

    by

    The 2010 Bad Poetry Contest is now complete, and let me just state that this is further evidence of the rampant use of illegal drugs in this country. We have a number of weiners…

    THE EVIL WIND AWARD goes to James L Rubart ("The Great Rudini") for this bit o' badness:

    The Wind

    The wind came softly, like a cat crawling up on top of my head and settling down for the afternoon,

    It wooed me from my complacency, from my depths of malcontent, from my moment of melancholious daydreaming,

    It brought upon its unseen arms a dandelion spore which danced upon my ear, carrying with it the promise that spring had arrived and would not be leaving soon,

    The wind,

    The wind,

    The wind,

    I stretched forth my hands and embraced my cousin, my brother, myself, my soul,

    The wind,

    The wind,

    The wind.


    You read that, and you just realize Jim should never have broken that particular wind. Speaking of foul winds, Betty Castleberry won this year's coveted WORST WINDY CRUD AWARD with a doozy entitled "Life Wind"… 

    The wind blows life my way
    And deposits stuff in my hair
    Like molded sprinkly things on doughnuts

    But not just in my hair
    It leaves trash in my soul
    In the deepest, most private part of my soul
    Where nothing, not even the wind, should ever go.

    But now it is there
    Like some kind of armed intruder
    With a big, evil weapon

    A weapon that has spikes
    And shoots bullets, too
    A weapon that will not let me rest
    And keeps me awake almost every night

    My torment is awful
    Really awful
    I just can't explain how awful

    But it is a little bit like
    Smelling a skunk
    Or watching somebody 
    Self-pierce their navel

    Will this black wind ever cease,
    Or am I doomed to
    Rancid skunk smells forever?


    The

    Continue Reading "And the winner is…"
  • May 9, 2010

    Bad Poetry ends on Tuesday!

    by

    So here's your last reminder… Tuesday is my birthday, and the last official day to enter our annual Bad Poetry Contest. The next day we'll pick a winner, and go back to answering your questions about books and publishing. If you'd like to jump in, today's the day. Just jump to the "comments" section and offer your worst. -chip

    Continue Reading "Bad Poetry ends on Tuesday!"
  • May 9, 2010

    Bad Poetry ends on Tuesday!

    by

    So here's your last reminder… Tuesday is my birthday, and the last official day to enter our annual Bad Poetry Contest. The next day we'll pick a winner, and go back to answering your questions about books and publishing. If you'd like to jump in, today's the day. Just jump to the "comments" section and offer your worst. -chip

    Continue Reading "Bad Poetry ends on Tuesday!"
  • May 7, 2010

    The 2010 Bad Poetry Contest continues!

    by

    Your entries are not being erased! At the bottom of the "comments" section is a small arrow in gold (looks like this: >> ). Just click on that and it'll take you to the next section of bad poetry. Sorry — I do my blog on typepad, and people always have a hard time figuring out why their comment doesn't show up. They think I erased them, but I erase nothing. Join in — go to the comments section and send us your bad poem! -chip

    Continue Reading "The 2010 Bad Poetry Contest continues!"
  • May 7, 2010

    The 2010 Bad Poetry Contest continues!

    by

    Your entries are not being erased! At the bottom of the "comments" section is a small arrow in gold (looks like this: >> ). Just click on that and it'll take you to the next section of bad poetry. Sorry — I do my blog on typepad, and people always have a hard time figuring out why their comment doesn't show up. They think I erased them, but I erase nothing. Join in — go to the comments section and send us your bad poem! -chip

    Continue Reading "The 2010 Bad Poetry Contest continues!"
  • May 5, 2010

    The 2010 Bad Poetry Contest

    by

    Bad poetry lives!

    That's right, the time has come once again to put away childish things and break out with verbal arm farts. Stop the wordsmithing madness and start constipating on wrong rhythms and awful word choice. The 2010 Bad Poetry Contest is here. 

    For those not in the know, we deal with books and publishing 51 weeks out of the year, answering questions and offering insights to writers and those interested in the world of publishing. But one week out of the year (my birthday week), we set aside the topic of publishing in order to share something much deeper… much more meaningful… and very stupid. In the old British tradition of offering something falsely deep yet with a veneer of thoughtfulness, we hold a Bad Poetry Contest. Each year the readers send in truly horrible poetry, then a team of experts (me…and sometimes Mike, if he's sober and I can convince him to help) offers a thorough evaluation of each piece ("That sucks… but this sucks worse."). Eventually we come up with a winner, who is presented with a truly fabulous Grand Prize. One year it was a 45 record of Neil Diamond singing "I Am, I Said" (which contains these deep thoughts: "I am, i said, to no one there, and no one heard at all not even the chair." Wow. Sing to me, Neil.) Another year it was a very special book that had been sent to me in hopes of finding representation: Does God Speak Through Cats?  You see the theme here? We go for a mood of deepfulness and reflectivosity. And YOU need to participate. 

    This year's Grand Prize? A copy of what has been called "the worst self-published book ever." How to Good-bye Depression is the product of that great writing mind Hiroyuki Nishigaki, who added to its fame by creating this winning subtitle: If You Constrict Anus 100

    Continue Reading "The 2010 Bad Poetry Contest"
  • May 5, 2010

    The 2010 Bad Poetry Contest

    by

    Bad poetry lives!

    That's right, the time has come once again to put away childish things and break out with verbal arm farts. Stop the wordsmithing madness and start constipating on wrong rhythms and awful word choice. The 2010 Bad Poetry Contest is here. 

    For those not in the know, we deal with books and publishing 51 weeks out of the year, answering questions and offering insights to writers and those interested in the world of publishing. But one week out of the year (my birthday week), we set aside the topic of publishing in order to share something much deeper… much more meaningful… and very stupid. In the old British tradition of offering something falsely deep yet with a veneer of thoughtfulness, we hold a Bad Poetry Contest. Each year the readers send in truly horrible poetry, then a team of experts (me…and sometimes Mike, if he's sober and I can convince him to help) offers a thorough evaluation of each piece ("That sucks… but this sucks worse."). Eventually we come up with a winner, who is presented with a truly fabulous Grand Prize. One year it was a 45 record of Neil Diamond singing "I Am, I Said" (which contains these deep thoughts: "I am, i said, to no one there, and no one heard at all not even the chair." Wow. Sing to me, Neil.) Another year it was a very special book that had been sent to me in hopes of finding representation: Does God Speak Through Cats?  You see the theme here? We go for a mood of deepfulness and reflectivosity. And YOU need to participate. 

    This year's Grand Prize? A copy of what has been called "the worst self-published book ever." How to Good-bye Depression is the product of that great writing mind Hiroyuki Nishigaki, who added to its fame by creating this winning subtitle: If You Constrict Anus 100

    Continue Reading "The 2010 Bad Poetry Contest"
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