Members
Poems
Irate Watcher Jun 2017
Fucking carrots...
Irate Watcher
Jun 2017
The one vegetable I hate with a passion is...
Carrots.
FYI: There's no metaphor in here. So if you're looking for one, you may as well stop reading.
-------
My hatred of carrots began
in middle school.
Those hard, raw sticks accounted
for 1/4 of my brown bag lunch.
Tiny knobs in plastic bags,
I threw those babies
straight in the bin.
Only 3/4 left.
I was always a hungry child.
Sometimes I debated eating the carrots
just to stop the growling, but
everytime I took a bite,
I felt like my teeth were breaking
on hard orange rocks.
If I forgot to throw the carrots away,
they would decompose during 5th period
at the bottom of my backpack.
Carrots rot so quickly.
White and squishy with
veined markings.
Sometimes I'd amass
several bags of carrots
in my backpack over a couple days,
which is more gross than it sounds.
Especially for someone who hates carrots.
I'd get home before my parents,
and cover the carrot bags with yesterday's garbage.
Cooked carrots are better, but
still kind of gross.
Unless they are in some sort of stew.
I bought one recently,
but it rotted within a day,
of course.
This has happened multiple times
and I continue to buy them,
let them rot,
and discard.
Carrots.
FYI: There's no metaphor in here. So if you're looking for one, you may as well stop reading.
-------
My hatred of carrots began
in middle school.
Those hard, raw sticks accounted
for 1/4 of my brown bag lunch.
Tiny knobs in plastic bags,
I threw those babies
straight in the bin.
Only 3/4 left.
I was always a hungry child.
Sometimes I debated eating the carrots
just to stop the growling, but
everytime I took a bite,
I felt like my teeth were breaking
on hard orange rocks.
If I forgot to throw the carrots away,
they would decompose during 5th period
at the bottom of my backpack.
Carrots rot so quickly.
White and squishy with
veined markings.
Sometimes I'd amass
several bags of carrots
in my backpack over a couple days,
which is more gross than it sounds.
Especially for someone who hates carrots.
I'd get home before my parents,
and cover the carrot bags with yesterday's garbage.
Cooked carrots are better, but
still kind of gross.
Unless they are in some sort of stew.
I bought one recently,
but it rotted within a day,
of course.
This has happened multiple times
and I continue to buy them,
let them rot,
and discard.
Rhia Dec 2018
The Twelve Beagle Days of Christmas
Rhia
Dec 2018
On the first day of Christmas, my Kirby gave to me: a bowl full of doggy food.
On the second day of Christmas, my Kirby gave to me: two sloppy kisses and a bowl full of doggy food.
On the third day of Christmas, my Kirby gave to me: three doggy biscuits, two sloppy kisses, and a bowl full of doggy food.
On the fourth day of Christmas, my Kirby gave to me: four doggy beds, three doggy biscuits, two sloppy kisses, and a bowl full of doggy food.
On the fifth day of Christmas, my Kirby gave to me: five carrots, four doggy beds, three doggy biscuits, two sloppy kisses, and a bowl full of doggy food.
On the sixth day of Christmas, my Kirby gave to me: six yummy greenies, five carrots, four doggy beds, three doggy biscuits, two sloppy kisses, and a bowl full of doggy food.
On the seventh day of Christmas, my Kirby gave to me: seven scents to smell, six yummy greenies, five carrots, four doggy beds, three doggy biscuits, two sloppy kisses, and a bowl full of doggy food.
On the eighth day of Christmas, my Kirby gave to me: eight freshies hidden, seven scents to smell, six yummy greenies, five carrots, four doggy beds, three doggy biscuits, two sloppy kisses, and a bowl full of doggy food.
On the ninth day of Christmas, my Kirby gave to me: nine wee-wee markings, eight freshies hidden, seven scents to smell, six yummy greenies, five carrots, four doggy beds, three doggy biscuits, two sloppy kisses, and a bowl full of doggy food.
On the tenth day of Christmas, my Kirby gave to me: ten tails a-waggin', nine wee-wee markings, eight freshies hidden, seven scents to smell, six yummy greenies, five carrots, four doggy beds, three doggy biscuits, two sloppy kisses, and a bowl full of doggy food.
On the eleventh day of Christmas, my Kirby gave to me: eleven rawhides hidden, ten tails a-waggin', nine wee-wee markings, eight freshies hidden, seven scents to smell, six yummy greenies, five carrots, four doggy beds, three doggy biscuits, two sloppy kisses, and a bowl full of doggy food.
On the twelfth day of Christmas, my Kirby gave to me: twelve stuffed buddies, eleven rawhides hidden, ten tails a-waggin', nine wee-wee markings, eight freshies hidden, seven scents to smell, six yummy greenies, five carrots, four doggy beds, three doggy biscuits, two sloppy kisses, and a bowl full of doggy food.
On the second day of Christmas, my Kirby gave to me: two sloppy kisses and a bowl full of doggy food.
On the third day of Christmas, my Kirby gave to me: three doggy biscuits, two sloppy kisses, and a bowl full of doggy food.
On the fourth day of Christmas, my Kirby gave to me: four doggy beds, three doggy biscuits, two sloppy kisses, and a bowl full of doggy food.
On the fifth day of Christmas, my Kirby gave to me: five carrots, four doggy beds, three doggy biscuits, two sloppy kisses, and a bowl full of doggy food.
On the sixth day of Christmas, my Kirby gave to me: six yummy greenies, five carrots, four doggy beds, three doggy biscuits, two sloppy kisses, and a bowl full of doggy food.
On the seventh day of Christmas, my Kirby gave to me: seven scents to smell, six yummy greenies, five carrots, four doggy beds, three doggy biscuits, two sloppy kisses, and a bowl full of doggy food.
On the eighth day of Christmas, my Kirby gave to me: eight freshies hidden, seven scents to smell, six yummy greenies, five carrots, four doggy beds, three doggy biscuits, two sloppy kisses, and a bowl full of doggy food.
On the ninth day of Christmas, my Kirby gave to me: nine wee-wee markings, eight freshies hidden, seven scents to smell, six yummy greenies, five carrots, four doggy beds, three doggy biscuits, two sloppy kisses, and a bowl full of doggy food.
On the tenth day of Christmas, my Kirby gave to me: ten tails a-waggin', nine wee-wee markings, eight freshies hidden, seven scents to smell, six yummy greenies, five carrots, four doggy beds, three doggy biscuits, two sloppy kisses, and a bowl full of doggy food.
On the eleventh day of Christmas, my Kirby gave to me: eleven rawhides hidden, ten tails a-waggin', nine wee-wee markings, eight freshies hidden, seven scents to smell, six yummy greenies, five carrots, four doggy beds, three doggy biscuits, two sloppy kisses, and a bowl full of doggy food.
On the twelfth day of Christmas, my Kirby gave to me: twelve stuffed buddies, eleven rawhides hidden, ten tails a-waggin', nine wee-wee markings, eight freshies hidden, seven scents to smell, six yummy greenies, five carrots, four doggy beds, three doggy biscuits, two sloppy kisses, and a bowl full of doggy food.
Yet another poem written by my brother circa 2006-ish in honor of our illustrious beagle, Kirby. My family all marveled at the poem's accuracy.
rhiannon
Mar 2019
Once upon a time there was a brave girl called Alison Parker. She was on the way to see her mum Michelle Ramsbottom, when she decided to take a short cut through Wyre Forest.
It wasn’t long before Alison got lost. She looked around, but all she could see were trees. Nervously, she felt into her bag for her favourite toy, Bunny, but Bunny was nowhere to be found! Alison began to panic. She felt sure she had packed Bunny. To make matters worse, she was starting to feel hungry.
Unexpectedly, she saw a kind werewolf dressed in a black skirt disappearing into the trees.
“How odd!” thought Alison.
For the want of anything better to do, she decided to follow the peculiarly dressed werewolf. Perhaps it could tell him the way out of the forest.
Eventually, Alison reached a clearing. She found herself surrounded by houses made from different sorts of food. There was a house made from carrots, a house made from biscuits, a house made from cakes and a house made from pancakes.
Alison could feel her tummy rumbling. Looking at the houses did nothing to ease her hunger.
“Hello!” she called. “Is anybody there?”
Nobody replied.
Alison looked at the roof on the closest house and wondered if it would be rude to eat somebody else’s chimney. Obviously it would be impolite to eat a whole house, but perhaps it would be considered acceptable to nibble the odd fixture or lick the odd fitting, in a time of need.
A cackle broke through the air, giving Alison a fright. A witch jumped into the space in front of the houses. She was carrying a cage. In that cage was Bunny!
“Bunny!” shouted Alison. She turned to the witch. “That’s my toy!”
The witch just shrugged.
“Give Bunny back!” cried Alison.
“Not on your nelly!” said the witch.
“At least let Bunny out of that cage!”
Before she could reply, three kind werewolves rushed in from a footpath on the other side of the clearing. Alison recognised the one in the black skirt that she’d seen earlier. The witch seemed to recognise him too.
“Hello Big Werewolf,” said the witch.
“Good morning.” The werewolf noticed Bunny. “Who is this?”
“That’s Bunny,” explained the witch.
“Ooh! Bunny would look lovely in my house. Give it to me!” demanded the werewolf.
The witch shook her head. “Bunny is staying with me.”
“Um… Excuse me…” Alison interrupted. “Bunny lives with me! And not in a cage!”
Big Werewolf ignored her. “Is there nothing you’ll trade?” he asked the witch.
The witch thought for a moment, then said, “I do like to be entertained. I’ll release him to anybody who can eat a whole front door.”
Big Werewolf looked at the house made from pancakes and said, “No problem, I could eat an entire house made from pancakes if I wanted to.”
“That’s nothing,” said the next werewolf. “I could eat twohouses.”
“There’s no need to show off,” said the witch. Just eat one front door and I’ll let you have Bunny.”
Alison watched, feeling very worried. She didn’t want the witch to give Bunny to Big Werewolf. She didn’t think Bunny would like living with a kind werewolf, away from her house and all her other toys.
The other two werewolves watched while Big Werewolf put on his bib and withdrew a knife and fork from his pocket.
“I’ll eat this whole house,” said Big Werewolf. “Just you watch!”
Big Werewolf pulled off a corner of the front door of the house made from biscuits. He gulped it down smiling, and went back for more.
And more.
And more.
Eventually, Big Werewolf started to get bigger – just a little bit bigger at first. But after a few more fork-fulls of biscuits, he grew to the size of a large snowball – and he was every bit as round.
“Erm… I don’t feel too good,” said Big Werewolf.
Suddenly, he started to roll. He’d grown so round that he could no longer balance!
“Help!” he cried, as he rolled off down a ***** into the forest.
Big Werewolf never finished eating the front door made from biscuits and Bunny remained trapped in the witch’s cage.Average Werewolf stepped up, and approached the house made from cakes.
“I’ll eat this whole house,” said Average Werewolf. “Just you watch!”
Average Werewolf pulled off a corner of the front door of the house made from cakes. She gulped it down smiling, and went back for more.
And more.
And more.
After a while, Average Werewolf started to look a little queasy. She grew greener…
…and greener.
A woodcutter walked into the clearing. “What’s this bush doing here?” he asked.
“I’m not a bush, I’m a werewolf!” said Average Werewolf.
“It talks!” exclaimed the woodcutter. “Those talking bushes are the worst kind. I’d better take it away before somebody gets hurt.”
“No! Wait!” cried Average Werewolf, as the woodcutter picked her up. But the woodcutter ignored her cries and carried the werewolf away under his arm.
Average Werewolf never finished eating the front door made from cakes and Bunny remained trapped in the witch’s cage.Little Werewolf stepped up, and approached the house made from pancakes.
“I’ll eat this whole house,” said Little Werewolf. “Just you watch!”
Little Werewolf pulled off a corner of the front door of the house made from pancakes. He gulped it down smiling, and went back for more.
And more.
And more.
After five or six platefuls, Little Werewolf started to fidget uncomfortably on the spot.
He stopped eating pancakes for a moment, then grabbed another forkful.
But before he could eat it, there came an almighty roar. A bottom burp louder than a rocket taking off, propelled Little Werewolf into the sky.
“Aggghhhhhh!” cried Little Werewolf. “I’m scared of heigh…”
Little Werewolf was never seen again.
Little Werewolf never finished eating the front door made from pancakes and Bunny remained trapped in the witch’s cage.
“That’s it,” said the witch. “I win. I get to keep Bunny.”
“Not so fast,” said Alison. “There is still one front door to go. The front door of the house made from carrots. And I haven’t had a turn yet.
“I don’t have to give you a turn!” laughed the witch. “My game. My rules.”
The woodcutter’s voice carried through the forest. “I think you should give her a chance. It’s only fair.”
“Fine,” said the witch. “But you saw what happened to the werewolves. She won’t last long.”
“I’ll be right back,” said Alison.
“What?” said the witch. “Where’s your sense of impatience? I thought you wanted Bunny back.”
Alison ignored the witch and gathered a hefty pile of sticks. She came back to the clearing and started a small camp fire. Carefully, she broke off a piece of the door of the house made from carrots and toasted it over the fire. Once it had cooked and cooled just a little, she took a bite. She quickly devoured the whole piece.
Alison sat down on a nearby log.
“You fail!” cackled the witch. “You were supposed to eat the whole door.”
“I haven’t finished,” explained Alison. “I am just waiting for my food to go down.”
When Alison’s food had digested, she broke off another piece of the door made from carrots. Once more, she toasted her food over the fire and waited for it to cool just a little. She ate it at a leisurely pace then waited for it to digest.
Eventually, after several sittings, Alison was down to the final piece of the door made from carrots. Carefully, she toasted it and allowed it to cool just a little. She finished her final course. Alison had eaten the entire front door of the house made from carrots.
The witch stamped her foot angrily. “You must have tricked me!” she said. “I don’t reward cheating!”
“I don’t think so!” said a voice. It was the woodcutter. He walked back into the clearing, carrying his axe. “This little girl won fair and square. Now hand over Bunny or I will chop your broomstick in half.”
The witch looked horrified. She grabbed her broomstick and placed it behind her. Then, huffing, she opened the door of the cage.
Alison hurried over and grabbed Bunny, checking that her favourite toy was all right. Fortunately, Bunny was unharmed.
Alison thanked the woodcutter, grabbed a quick souvenir, and hurried on to meet Michelle. It was starting to get dark.
When Alison got to Michelle’s house, her mum threw her arms around her.
“I was so worried!” cried Michelle. “You are very late.”
As Alison described her day, she could tell that Michelle didn’t believe her. So she grabbed a napkin from her pocket.
“What’s that?” asked Michelle.
Alison unwrapped a doorknob made from biscuits. “Pudding!” she said.
Michelle almost fell off her chair.
The End
It wasn’t long before Alison got lost. She looked around, but all she could see were trees. Nervously, she felt into her bag for her favourite toy, Bunny, but Bunny was nowhere to be found! Alison began to panic. She felt sure she had packed Bunny. To make matters worse, she was starting to feel hungry.
Unexpectedly, she saw a kind werewolf dressed in a black skirt disappearing into the trees.
“How odd!” thought Alison.
For the want of anything better to do, she decided to follow the peculiarly dressed werewolf. Perhaps it could tell him the way out of the forest.
Eventually, Alison reached a clearing. She found herself surrounded by houses made from different sorts of food. There was a house made from carrots, a house made from biscuits, a house made from cakes and a house made from pancakes.
Alison could feel her tummy rumbling. Looking at the houses did nothing to ease her hunger.
“Hello!” she called. “Is anybody there?”
Nobody replied.
Alison looked at the roof on the closest house and wondered if it would be rude to eat somebody else’s chimney. Obviously it would be impolite to eat a whole house, but perhaps it would be considered acceptable to nibble the odd fixture or lick the odd fitting, in a time of need.
A cackle broke through the air, giving Alison a fright. A witch jumped into the space in front of the houses. She was carrying a cage. In that cage was Bunny!
“Bunny!” shouted Alison. She turned to the witch. “That’s my toy!”
The witch just shrugged.
“Give Bunny back!” cried Alison.
“Not on your nelly!” said the witch.
“At least let Bunny out of that cage!”
Before she could reply, three kind werewolves rushed in from a footpath on the other side of the clearing. Alison recognised the one in the black skirt that she’d seen earlier. The witch seemed to recognise him too.
“Hello Big Werewolf,” said the witch.
“Good morning.” The werewolf noticed Bunny. “Who is this?”
“That’s Bunny,” explained the witch.
“Ooh! Bunny would look lovely in my house. Give it to me!” demanded the werewolf.
The witch shook her head. “Bunny is staying with me.”
“Um… Excuse me…” Alison interrupted. “Bunny lives with me! And not in a cage!”
Big Werewolf ignored her. “Is there nothing you’ll trade?” he asked the witch.
The witch thought for a moment, then said, “I do like to be entertained. I’ll release him to anybody who can eat a whole front door.”
Big Werewolf looked at the house made from pancakes and said, “No problem, I could eat an entire house made from pancakes if I wanted to.”
“That’s nothing,” said the next werewolf. “I could eat twohouses.”
“There’s no need to show off,” said the witch. Just eat one front door and I’ll let you have Bunny.”
Alison watched, feeling very worried. She didn’t want the witch to give Bunny to Big Werewolf. She didn’t think Bunny would like living with a kind werewolf, away from her house and all her other toys.
The other two werewolves watched while Big Werewolf put on his bib and withdrew a knife and fork from his pocket.
“I’ll eat this whole house,” said Big Werewolf. “Just you watch!”
Big Werewolf pulled off a corner of the front door of the house made from biscuits. He gulped it down smiling, and went back for more.
And more.
And more.
Eventually, Big Werewolf started to get bigger – just a little bit bigger at first. But after a few more fork-fulls of biscuits, he grew to the size of a large snowball – and he was every bit as round.
“Erm… I don’t feel too good,” said Big Werewolf.
Suddenly, he started to roll. He’d grown so round that he could no longer balance!
“Help!” he cried, as he rolled off down a ***** into the forest.
Big Werewolf never finished eating the front door made from biscuits and Bunny remained trapped in the witch’s cage.Average Werewolf stepped up, and approached the house made from cakes.
“I’ll eat this whole house,” said Average Werewolf. “Just you watch!”
Average Werewolf pulled off a corner of the front door of the house made from cakes. She gulped it down smiling, and went back for more.
And more.
And more.
After a while, Average Werewolf started to look a little queasy. She grew greener…
…and greener.
A woodcutter walked into the clearing. “What’s this bush doing here?” he asked.
“I’m not a bush, I’m a werewolf!” said Average Werewolf.
“It talks!” exclaimed the woodcutter. “Those talking bushes are the worst kind. I’d better take it away before somebody gets hurt.”
“No! Wait!” cried Average Werewolf, as the woodcutter picked her up. But the woodcutter ignored her cries and carried the werewolf away under his arm.
Average Werewolf never finished eating the front door made from cakes and Bunny remained trapped in the witch’s cage.Little Werewolf stepped up, and approached the house made from pancakes.
“I’ll eat this whole house,” said Little Werewolf. “Just you watch!”
Little Werewolf pulled off a corner of the front door of the house made from pancakes. He gulped it down smiling, and went back for more.
And more.
And more.
After five or six platefuls, Little Werewolf started to fidget uncomfortably on the spot.
He stopped eating pancakes for a moment, then grabbed another forkful.
But before he could eat it, there came an almighty roar. A bottom burp louder than a rocket taking off, propelled Little Werewolf into the sky.
“Aggghhhhhh!” cried Little Werewolf. “I’m scared of heigh…”
Little Werewolf was never seen again.
Little Werewolf never finished eating the front door made from pancakes and Bunny remained trapped in the witch’s cage.
“That’s it,” said the witch. “I win. I get to keep Bunny.”
“Not so fast,” said Alison. “There is still one front door to go. The front door of the house made from carrots. And I haven’t had a turn yet.
“I don’t have to give you a turn!” laughed the witch. “My game. My rules.”
The woodcutter’s voice carried through the forest. “I think you should give her a chance. It’s only fair.”
“Fine,” said the witch. “But you saw what happened to the werewolves. She won’t last long.”
“I’ll be right back,” said Alison.
“What?” said the witch. “Where’s your sense of impatience? I thought you wanted Bunny back.”
Alison ignored the witch and gathered a hefty pile of sticks. She came back to the clearing and started a small camp fire. Carefully, she broke off a piece of the door of the house made from carrots and toasted it over the fire. Once it had cooked and cooled just a little, she took a bite. She quickly devoured the whole piece.
Alison sat down on a nearby log.
“You fail!” cackled the witch. “You were supposed to eat the whole door.”
“I haven’t finished,” explained Alison. “I am just waiting for my food to go down.”
When Alison’s food had digested, she broke off another piece of the door made from carrots. Once more, she toasted her food over the fire and waited for it to cool just a little. She ate it at a leisurely pace then waited for it to digest.
Eventually, after several sittings, Alison was down to the final piece of the door made from carrots. Carefully, she toasted it and allowed it to cool just a little. She finished her final course. Alison had eaten the entire front door of the house made from carrots.
The witch stamped her foot angrily. “You must have tricked me!” she said. “I don’t reward cheating!”
“I don’t think so!” said a voice. It was the woodcutter. He walked back into the clearing, carrying his axe. “This little girl won fair and square. Now hand over Bunny or I will chop your broomstick in half.”
The witch looked horrified. She grabbed her broomstick and placed it behind her. Then, huffing, she opened the door of the cage.
Alison hurried over and grabbed Bunny, checking that her favourite toy was all right. Fortunately, Bunny was unharmed.
Alison thanked the woodcutter, grabbed a quick souvenir, and hurried on to meet Michelle. It was starting to get dark.
When Alison got to Michelle’s house, her mum threw her arms around her.
“I was so worried!” cried Michelle. “You are very late.”
As Alison described her day, she could tell that Michelle didn’t believe her. So she grabbed a napkin from her pocket.
“What’s that?” asked Michelle.
Alison unwrapped a doorknob made from biscuits. “Pudding!” she said.
Michelle almost fell off her chair.
The End