Atrocious poetry





Just try the first stanza, and see how it goes,
though I’m not trying to lead you by the nose
but just a little note to  pursuade you stay,
it’s all about the trouble I’ve had today.

It’s a perfect day for atrocious poetry.
Today day in particular I hate technology.
I’ve run out of internet, my phone’s up the creek
I’ve unlocked a new one, but it’s too late to seek
a simcard that fits onto the neat little slot.
I wish I’d refused this new phone I just got.
I liked my old phone, should have let it be,
but I’ll blame my mistakes on all but me.
I’ll blame it on my son and the and the bloke next door
the man in the shop and a few people more.

Congratulations on getting this far,
you’re a brave little tinker, a hero, a star.

The laptop has no bytes, as my son used too much,
watching lots of movies and comedies and such.
I missed an important Webinar last night,
Thinking my phone would display it all right,
when I could have gone round to my daughter’s home –
which I would have done if only I had known;
my phone has the web, but no technology
for sharing the necessary webinar with me.
I’m unable to talk to my friends on the net,
as my phone has its ways, and it’s ways are set,
Neither can I open my most essential sites,
as I’ve tried several passwords and none of them are right.
I can’t even access my recent emails,
as every time I try, for some reason, it fails.
So I can’t exchange old passwords for new,
with my emails concealed, so what can I do?

Two stanzas on and you’re holding up fine –
you can manage the third one, it’s only four lines.

The bloke next door gave me a brand new phone,
As he’s already got two or three of his own.
I grudgingly took it, as he said it was posh,
and because it hadn’t cost him a lot of dosh.

The next one’s a sixer; and that’s not much more –
who knows what excitement you may have in store…

I got it unlocked by a very nice man,
and while waiting, I did some work in Oxfam.
When I returned to collect it, I intended to ask
him to put in my simcard – an easy task –
but I wanted to know that it fitted the slot.
In my hurry to get home I clean forgot.

You must have some stamina to have read all this text;
Perhaps you’d like to learn what happened next.

I got my old phone and I opened the back
in such a great rush that I made the screen crack.
But I didn’t think it mattered as I had a new one –
It’s all bells and whistles, a fancy Samsung.
So I opened it up, to put my simcard in it.
That’s when I learned that my simcard didn’t fit.
I shrugged my shoulders thinking, “that’s OK,
I can wait to use my Samsung for one more day.”

You’ve survived this far, so you might as well stay,
and find out all the rest that has happened today.

I replaced the simcard in my other one,
and that’s when I learnt how much damage I’d done.
The phone didn’t work, and now I’m filled with sorrow,
as I have an appointment with the dentist tomorrow,
and he sent me a text to tell me what time,
but I couldn’t read it, so tomorrow at nine
I’ll have to be there, as the one thing I recall
is the appointment is early, and I cannot call
him up on the phone, as my phone’s up the creek.
All in all, this is not a good week.
I’m feeling very stressed and it’s not hard to see,
I’m really too reliant on techology.

If you think it’s all over, I’m afraid that you are wrong,
But I’m injecting some fun into my monolithic song.

And just to add to my little tale of woe,
Another thing has happened to add to my sorrow.
I’ve lost my shoes! Yes, my shoes are gone!
Making it impossible to put them on.
They’re not in the living room, they’re not in the hall –
my comfy, cosy shoes are not anywhere at all.
They were in my bag when I left the gym,
I remember that I had them when I went in
to the shop where they unlocked my phone for me –
oh, where can my lovely shoes possibly be?
Did I leave them on the floor of the unlocky place?
Or in the back of Oxfam? In which case
Will I have to pay money, just for the treat
Of putting my favourite shoes back on my feet?
It doesn’t really matter – not to worry –
I’ll wear my boots instead, as I’m in a hurry
to find a friendly face to commiserate with me;
I’m going round to Claire’s for a cup of coffee.
(This poem would sound better if I’d typed in tea,
but I’d have had to tell a lie, and that just isn’t me.)

OK! OK! Please bear with my tale.
After all your effort, I’d be sad to see you fail.
There’s not much left, my story’s nearly done,
or to put it differently, you have almost won.

A few hours on, and I’ve had a great time,
telling this in prose instead of in rhyme,
including the bit that I haven’t told you yet
about another little factor that I rather regret;
I wrote this poem before I went out the door,
but clicked on cancel, so it was there no more.
I didn’t mean to do it – it was an accident;
a sad little mishap to my detriment.
I’ve wracked my brains and my memory,
and this version’s even worse, as far as I can see,
but I don’t really care, I’m devoid of shame –
I’m going to post it anyway, ABOVE MY NAME.

Wait a second – there’s a little PS
If you give up now, you will miss the best.

Oh happy me, my shoes are under my chair!
I can’t understand how they could have got there.
Now I’m off to bed, and whatever I may say,
All in all, it’s been an entertaining day.

I’m totally impressed with your sticking powers –
You thoroughly deserve this bunch of flowers.


Sorry they have wilted, but I’ve waited for days
to post my little ditty on this WordPress page.

©Jane Paterson Basil

27 thoughts on “Atrocious poetry

  1. Well, I stayed the course! Thanks for the wilted flowers 🙂 Your shoes must have sneaked back in when you weren’t looking. BTW the webinar is available for 12 days posst live broadcast. I sent you the email – several in fact. Ooops – you can’t read it 😦 Maybe by now you can ! Let me know – if you can. If not, I’ll… oh what the hell, you can find the replay in your Member area. I haven’t ventured there yet…


      1. I am not well. Though I pretend I’m okay a lot. I’m running around after my glorious Girlie, reading through the nights and writing quick book reviews.

        You have been a very busy lady. I looked through your blog and see the quantity of writing. That’s good.

        Can you switch over to the trees in the woods site. I wrote somehing there

        Liked by 1 person

        1. I’m on medication that’s frying my brain, and now I’ve got the shakes. Maybe I’ll drop the meds. It’s easier to cope with occasionally wishing I was dead than being unable to write (or cook, or hoover the floor…)

          Liked by 1 person

          1. I’m sorry for not reading this before… I do hope you are better now. I am myself very divided between the idea of medicating (I only refer to psychologically related and addiction issues) whatever the situation may be, and allowing the process to take its full course – but this, I understand, would only be possible in very special and controlled conditions (i.e.analytic psychologists, shamans). So, in fact, I wanted to tell you not to interrupt, if anyway you had to go that far with it. I do believe that “brain frying” is only temporary, that, given a reasonable time, it’ll find new, better ways to cope with challenging situations.
            There is this concept “metanoia”, introduced by Jung: the psyche (we can take it simply, just as ‘soul’) when under extreme pressure, chooses to break down, only to recompose itself in better, more adaptive ways. I believe in it, there are many examples I know of that are convincing enough. Only, I doubt it is for everyone. I doubt it can be done without the right people to assist you.
            Wish you to be well and happy


            1. I’m OK now – not quite on course with my writing, but – as my last two posts show – excercising my brain with silly alliteration. I think it was unfair to blame the meds – I’d worked myself into a froth about something, and I’d also been rushing to get put together an album of poems for my daughter’s birthday. I’d been sleeping less than usual, and not eating properly. I like to think I’m immune to exhaustion, but it seems not. I won’t stay on the meds forever as I don’t like that kind of dependence, but my last collapse was severe, and I wasn’t coping.
              I’ll Google metanoia – though it sounds scary.

              Liked by 1 person

                  1. Thank you:) I’m this kind of person: if I work alone, there’s much that I can’t seem to find solutions to; but, as soon as somebody is having a look at what i write, then it’s magic. I seem to have it all: inspiration, insights, energy to go on. So, even if you won’t have the time to look at the next material, I feel you did a great job at helping me – Thank You – really, from the heart

                    Liked by 1 person

Thank you for dropping by. If you have any thoughts, questions, treats or cures, you're welcome to drop them in the comment box.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.