My poem concerns beautiful Princess Faeryn Tay,
A delightful young woman in every way;
But of all the misfortunes I could possibly list,
I am sorry to say she has broken her wrist.
She has also fractured her elbow, it seems,
A thing which could only happen in the worst of bad dreams!
So good people of Allpoetry, please listen to me,
As I explain how this misfortune came to be.
Princess Faeryn Tay had ventured onto the rink
To show her pluck and expertise, I would think,
And indeed the sight of it was very nice,
To see our proud and beautiful heroine on the ice.
Oh how the onlookers did smile and also grin
To see her describe circles on her skates and spin,
And to execute perfect figures-of-eight,
Whilst all the while unaware of her coming fate.
Some say by a passing skater she was tripped,
Others that she lost her footing and slipped,
But they certainly agree one and all,
That Princess Faeryn Tay onto the ice did fall!
The onlookers then gasped, and said “Oh my!”
As young Faeryn Tay gave a pitiful cry,
But she was very brave, and despite their fears,
She courageously held back her hot and bitter tears.
And indeed those tears should have fallen like rain,
Because our young heroine was in such great pain,
And the onlookers could see, by the state or her arm,
That she had indeed done herself some grievous harm.
Then upon them all did fall a hush
As paramedics onto the ice did rush,
Bidden to be careful by one and all,
In case they too might suffer a painful fall.
Then the good paramedics, with tread so slow,
Picked up Faeryn Tay, and off the ice did go,
And to the waiting ambulance they made their way,
And loaded her into it without delay.
Then the onlookers from the rink did wave,
Pleased to see our princess being so brave,
And that to hospital she was being taken,
In which assumption they were surely not mistaken.
So Princess Faeryn Tay was safe at last,
And her poor arm and elbow put into a cast,
Which may be seen by many visitors all the same,
And on which in ink they may each sign their name.
So hurrah for the brave Princess Faeryn Tay,
Named for Dundee’s famous river, I have to say,
Which is most beautiful to be seen,
By the famous bridge and the Magdalen Green!
May the beautiful young Princess Faeryn Tay
Grow up into a gracious lady one day,
And on national newspapers may we see her face,
As an intrepid explorer into outer space.
Or perhaps she will, with grace and precision,
Host her own chat show on the new-fangled television,
Or become a great athlete before she is old,
And for the United States win many a gold.
But then she has such style, that I would say
She could become the leading dancer in a corps de ballet.
But of all the professions I could possibly list,
I cannot say I see her as a mad scientist!
If I were given a preference then I would myself
Imagine her as a charming and lovely elf,
Who, when I rub my antique Arabian lamp,
Would appear like a genie, the little scamp!
So, Princess Faeryn Tay, get well wishes come from me,
To you, from the fine city of Dundee,
Where the original river Tay daily flows
And out into the mighty ocean goes.
May you get much better before too long,
And one day grow up tall, fair, and strong,
And be a credit each and every day
To the proud and beautiful Silvery Tay!
Author notes
Option 1: This is written in the style of William Topaz McGonnigal, Poet and Tragedian, the world's greatest and most prolific writer of bad poetry. Google him, and have fun. No rhyme was too banal for him; ignoring metre and structure, he would fix bayonets and charge in order to skewer a simple, if awful, rhyme.
In a list
- Homages to other poets and authors... • next in list
- Poems Written for Tay • next in list
- Wee yellow vases • next in list
A contest entry
- Fairy High Points Contest by Amera.
7000 points, ended March 10, 15 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Clever but Terribly BAD POETRY!!!!!!! by MorganTea.
450 points, ended September 1, 16 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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Very Clever
Very Bad if I do say so myself. Nice bad poem, funny, bad rhymes, ok style, and written similar to the worst poet of all time. Nice work. Nice read, nice terribility and nice everything!!! LOL
Good luck in my contest---
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Enjoyed this piece a lot. Congrats on the previous gold trophy, and best of luck in other contests you have this in.
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It's not often one can win trophies for bad poetry... I guess it takes skill
Thanks for your visit and comment.
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I entered the "Clever but terrible poetry" contest as well. It's a fun change, and not nearly as easy as it should be.
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God, no wonder this won Gold! I didn't even realize I won an HM for this contest! lol Ooops, off to thank Amera, but first, let me say this, I love BAD Scottish poetry Love, Lane
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Be careful or I might tack on an extra verse just for you!
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Congrats on the gold trophy... I clicked on this by accident but couldn't leave and cost you the points, so I read though and actually enjoyed this! The rhyming was so strong and it all flowed nicely... and of course the story written into this was well thought out and amusing. Well done.
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Thank you. From the lack of comments I got while it was featured, I think a lot of people clicked on it and simply thought it was a "bad poem", never stopping to find out it was a parody of someone else's style. McGonnigal, whom I am imitating here, was the world's greatest writer of bad poetry, but one thing he could do was tell a story. That's what I think I managed to get across, so thank you for your comments, which I really appreciate.
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This is really really bad!!!
Jeff read me a poem and it must be the peot you are pretending to be about a bridge disaster. So bad it made me cry laughing. This is even better!!!
How can someone who writes like you choose to write like this.
. Rewarded 4
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You mean the one about "The last Sabbath day of 1889, which will be remembered for a very long time"? A classic. He is one of my heroes, because of his utter hubris and self-belief. I don't care if it IS bad poetry - it is GREAT bad poetry.
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A nice light hearted refrain, with it's element of great tragedy layered within an excellent verse form.
Congratulations, well deserved.
. Rewarded 4
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Old McGonnigal would be very gratified to hear that. Thank you.
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Nicely expressed story within the rhyming patterns.
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Thank you... It is actually supposed to be a deliberately atrocious poem - they're the most difficult to write ...
Glad you like it.
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This indeed was a lovely piece you penned. Im in awe.
Thanks to King Of Rhyme for linking me to a smile. -
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O LovesStrength, I am surely flattered by your awe,
As I sit here not far from Dundee Law
And the silvery Tay, which can be seen
Nearby Dundee and the Magdalen Green.
And, as I survey the famous railway bridge,
In your words I hear of irony no vestige,
Because I know there is accuracy in your praise,
Which is the most flattering I have had in many days.
So LovesStrength, may you also become a poet of renown
And one day be invested with a Laureate's gown,
And also be as famous as McGonnigal and me -
The twin bards of the fair city of Dundee!
(I know, I know... it should be "McGonnigal and I", but It wouldn't rhyme with Dundee!)
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Thank you. This brought a smile to my face and I needed one. I'll comment more after school.
-Tay
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It is certain that I would walk many a mile
To make fair Princess Faeryn Tay smile.
But for further comment I wait until after school
Where she is quite successful as a rule.
Meanwhile may I wish her arm to be healing,
And recovering much of its normal feeling,
So that Faeryn will again run and play
Down by the green banks of the silvery Tay.
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so you comment in poem too, eh? I love how you mentioned the river Tay. I want to see Scotland so badly. I also like the style; I've never heard of it before but it's really nice. I thank you again for writing this. It brings a smile to my face.
-Tay -
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I'm very glad to make you smile. William Topaz McGonnigal was the world's greatest writer of bad poetry. But he believed in himself so much, that he produced volumes and volumes of the stuff, and although he was never successful in his lifetime he has become famous afterwards, and is read by millions - always with a smile on their faces. His heart's desire was to become Poet Laureate to Queen Victoria - an ambition he did not fulfill. The main ways of recognising his work are:
1. It is usually in quatrains,
2. You can never be sure quite how long the lines are supposed to be (but because he used to perform his poetry to audiences, you can get a sense of the way he liked to get all the information he could into a line),
3. The rhymes are always very simple, and he will often make a sentence very awkward just to use one of these simple rhymes,
4. Time and time again he will mention "the silvery Tay".
Despite the fact that his poetry was bad, it is difficult to immitate. He was 100% serious in what he did. And he managed to chronicle a great many things of his era. Perhaps his most famous poem concerns the day that a storm blew down the railway bridge (over the silvery Tay, of course) and a number of lives were lost when a train plunged into the river.
Och, I'm just rambling... get well soon.
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Smiling and thinking the young lass who is being honored will be delighted by this wonderful write.
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What an amazing poem! The thing I love the most is that it catches you and you just read, never getting bored or thinking "is it done yet"...more like, "what happens next!" Not for a minute does it even seem long. A great story, great imagery, so wonderfully written! I don't know what else to say
♥
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Thank you so much... and it's supposed to be "bad poetry"!
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I just knew that when I saw you were entering this contest that I would read a world class poem. This is a real thrill to read with the story, rhythm and flow and imagery. You then go the extra mile and use all the prompts. haha... only you my friend!! Thanks so much for this amazing entry.
Love,
Amera♥
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Hey, I'm supposed to be anonymous!
As soon as I saw the name "Tay" I knew it was crying out for something in the style of the Bard of the Tay himself, WTMcG, so I just launched into it, within minutes of saying good night to you.
Unfortunately I am now sitting at a PC with limited internet access, which won't let me edit the only spelling mistake I could spot.
I'll do it when I get home.
If you want some fun, Google for McGonnigal's poems - they are wonderful, so laboured and bursting with hubris. There is no rhyme so banal that he will not skewer it and force it to his purpose! -
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It's not an anonymous contest.
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Oh, well in this case, this isn't me, it's my evil twin sister!
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