My Beloved.

Written for The Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest.

My love, as the still light shines on your lice
Ah, I smell the onions matted on your breath.
What else? Your nose hairs are threads to soon slice,
And when I leave I thank god I didn’t retch.

My beloved, a shore of love passes through me
When I do catch whiff of your gastro winds,
They move like the barnacles on your knees
Oh, as I stroke the maggots off your skin!

Your eyes are red as a blowfly’s
Your ears are clouded with wax opaque spots
Your lips hoofed with your special spoiled meat pie
Beloved, you smell worse than Death’s trots.

As I lie in bed and think, lord what else?
My chest rises in warbling warmth and I melt.

Categories: Poetry

Tags: , , , , , , ,

24 replies

  1. At least this was in contest for worst poetry. Thank god.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Thanks for the laugh 😆

    Liked by 1 person

  3. This was such a horrible poem!! Who’d want that sort of love, right? 😀

    Liked by 1 person

  4. “Cupid needs to pull out the real arrows after catching wind of your attempts.”

    —You took this perhaps a little too literally…🤣.

    That was funny. What a partner!

    Liked by 1 person


  1. WINNER of the Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest | Chelsea Ann Owens

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