One of the worse things about not getting to take my summer classes (yeah, lost the fight) is that I have all this time with absolutely nothing to do with myself. I've yet to make it through a full day and already I've watched hours of sci-fi (bushwhacked left me disturbed for life), two movies, and read quite a chunk of my book. Finishing this, I decided to browse through the home library of books that haven't been touched in ages. There I found a book entitled Very Bad Poetry which is composed of --you guessed it, very bad poetry.
Now I know that the poems you normally find in one's blog are meant to be inspirational or at least to express some sort of emotion. Let me assure you that these authors are also quite serious about their work. The works do indeed move the reader emotionally...usually to laughter, but moving nonetheless. So, with nothing more to say, I give you example one of a very bad poem by the 19th century poet J. Gordon Coogler. Enjoy.
from How Strange are Dreams!
How strange are dreams! I dreamed the other night
A dream that made me tremble,
Not with fear, but with a kind of strange reality;
My supper, though late, consisted of no cheese.
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