Bad Poetry Quotes

“The trouble with poetry is it's often written to the sound of a drum only the poet may hear; nonetheless, blessed are those poets who always manage to find unshakeable pleasure in their own works.”
― Criss Jami, Killosophy

“[M]y father discourag'd me by ridiculing my performances, and telling me verse-makers were generally beggars. So I escaped being a poet, most probably a very bad one.”
― Benjamin Franklin

“Some stars are large, and some are small,
And some are quite invisiball!”
― Walter R. Brooks

“Through the rainbow he was brave,
Although blood, he did not crave.
But Vikings, blood they should want.
Heads as trophies, they should flaunt.
But from behind, little Jimmy was run through,
A puddle of blood grew and grew.
So when Jimmy fell,
My tears they did swell.
And I cried.
And I cried.”

While there was scattered applause, most people just looked at him, confused. The poem was terrible. Heimdall knew it. The crowd knew it.”
― Dylan Callens, Operation Cosmic Teapot

“It is dreadfully tedious to be obliged to listen to poetry, even when it has been composed in one’s honour. But in another– oh, Kit, you won’t understand, but to be three- and- forty, and still be able to attach foolish boys, is such a comfort!”
― Georgette Heyer, False Colours

“Oh, Tookie, I never wagered your lip nookie.
In your eyes is the only place I wanna lookie.
You've taught me 'bout loving and giving, I was a rookie.
You're so pure and sweet. And now I'm hookie.
On Tookieeeeee.”
― Tyra Banks, Modelland

“♫ Climbed that roost, alighted right there.
Made mush of his head for the onlooker bears.
A two-pronger her prize, a meat most rare.
Do-gooders will pay. Do-gooders will fear. ♫”
― Darrell Drake, Where Madness Roosts

“I once began to ask around what constitutes a good poem. It felt petty, in a sense. A boy would need no help in deciding which girls he thinks are pretty.”
― Criss Jami, Healology

“Ay, and what do you think he was doing when I walked in? Reading poetry to her! What a booberkin! I can tell you this, my boy: in my day we’d more rumgumption than to bore a pretty woman into a lethargy!”
― Georgette Heyer, False Colours

“Modelland was once her home... home... home,
But foolish lust we don't condone... done... done,
Now a cursed and cracked gemstone... stone... stone,
Modelland is not her home.”
― Tyra Banks, Modelland