Make your own free website on Tripod.com

Stupid Poetry
Your Tasty Poems

Home

Udders And Other Matters
Vermin
People
Psychiatry And Odd Behaviour
Assortment Of Ramblings
Rage And Other Emotions
Your Splendid Poems
Your Excellent Poems
Your Superb Poems
Your Brilliant Poems
Your Magnificent Poems
Your Dazzling Poems
Your Tasty Poems
Your Stonkin' Poems
Your Sterling Poems
Your Soopadoopa Poems
Your Cracking Poems
Your Rude and Nasty Poems
Stupid Links
Stupid Remarks

Click here to send in a poem.

New poet, Steve Sheard (can you believe he's not written before) has put forward the following for your pleasure. Keep writing, Steve!

Bath Tub

I rub and scrub my bathroom tub
but no matter how hard I try
I cannot remove that dirty stain
which makes it look like a pigsty

I remember it new, so clean and shiny
I could see my face in it or my bum
but when that stain got on the bottom
no amount of Jif let me see my face again.

Copyright Steve Sheard.


Jasmine Maddock is a prolific writer of surreal and satirical poetry. She is also a very talented artist. You can see some of her artwork via the Stupid Links page. Here's another gem from Jas!

A KIPPER IN THE THYROID, BABY

I've got a tin of fruit in my thyroid baby
A neurotic robotic
I've got a tin schizo in my thyroid honey
A despotic robotic
I've got an android in my thyroid baby
An exotic robotic
Whizzes round in my thyroid honey
A psychotic robotic
I've got a pepper corn callous thyroid
A honey of a fruit
I've got a kipper born in my thyroid sweet
A funny old suit
I've got a zipper torn in the thyroid baby
A runny bald lute
I've got a schizo zipper in my thyroid sugar
A despotic honey coat
I've got an android corn in my thyroid baby
A thyroid

Copyright Jasmine Maddock


Here are a couple of michievous ones written by Samantha Jones.

Not Wordsworth

I wandered lonely as a cloud, how lonely can you get
I didn't wander quick enough so I got soaking wet
I couldn't see a blessed thing, the rain bunged up me specs
Sod those bloody daffodils, I tripped and broke me neck

Copyright Samantha M Jones.

Speedwriting

I sit at my typewriter practising my speed
I'm sure I'd go much faster if I was on some weed
I'd smoke my way through novels churned out by the score
But if my pusher did get nicked, I couldn't write no more

Copyright Samantha M Jones.


Here's a poem describing a workday in the life of Steve Sheard. It sounds horrible...the job, not the poem!

Radio Control

I wear a headset in the job I do
to help me hear all the hulabaloo
but when I can, I take a break
to improve my snooker break

The canteen food makes me sick
so I carry tupperware with pasta twists
a can of coke for when I need it
but then again with my headset on, I think I'm worth it.

Don't work this desk, don't work that
it doesn't matter it's all tat
running around for no real gain
to be told the rules have changed again

Not to follow and step into line
means in the office for book down trousers time
I dream of a day when I'm not in trouble
because if I breathe I'm in double

Another figure, a number is my notion
step on me to gain your promotion
to thick, too stupid to climb the tree
should I wear that duty free

Copyright Steve Sheard