Welcome to Day 3 of our II Annual Bad Poetry Festival, a celebration of all the putrid prose and stinky stanzas penned by the lousy poets who didn’t get invited to that other poetry festival that’s going on this week in Granada. The winner of the ND’s Bad Poetry Festival will be announced on Saturday (either by democratic vote or, more likely yet, by sagacious interpretation of public will).
#9 My Leader, Mi Comandante…forever!
Thank you, my dear leader
for being brave and true.
Gracias, mi comandante
no one else will do.
You help the poor
and fight bad guys.
Your speeches never bore
and you never tell no lies.
Some say you’re getting old
in the twilight of your life.
And that you just do what you’re told
henpecked by your wife.
But that’s not true, my leader
your punches never miss
I still love you, mi comandante
there’s only one Chuck Norris.
– Maj. Scott McCoy
#10 Dogs are Bubbles
dogs are bubbles
and croak like they’re frogs
locked mouth to neck in battle
like feral blood thirsty dogs
they plunge from the walls and smack hard
on the floor,
shake it off now you fools
and please go eat some more
fleas ticks and ants while flashing your tails
with strobe-light rhythms before your entrails
abundantly regal all exposed flats
with digested mosquitoes termites and gnats
the secret of your feat, I admittedly know not
with immaculate consistency
black tick-tack white dot.
You light up my life
But charge for it too much
The recibo cuts like a knife
Plus, IVA, street lights, and such
I’ve never been to Spain
I hear that’s where you’re from
Violeta sold the train
Tipitapa is a slum
Now you’re leaving Nicaragua
They say you sold your shares
I’ll miss you Union Fenosa
But I doubt anyone else cares.
#12 The Hassidic Sandinista(Translated from Yiddish by Chiam Yonkel)
There came a rabbi from Brooklyn
Who loved matzah there as they cooked ‘em-
On a trip to Nargote, he ate hot guapote
That turned his kishkes a rote.
He kvetched and he cried,
Then dried his eyes:
“Oy veh! How ’bout some elote?”
#13 La Flor de Nicaragua (National Flower part IV)
free and pretty
a pretty image
an image of cleanliness and freedom
pretty, free, clean, secure!
caring for harmony and for the aesthetics of daily life beyond poverty
love and service
clean, neatly kept, and aesthetic
Murillo, Murillo, Murillo, MURILLO!!
clean, orderly, neatly kept, loving
alerting, insisting, advising
achieving the ability to be coherent!!
growing in values, in faith, in unity
growing in caring, respect, dignity, liberty, fraternity, democracy
more brotherly, more generous, stronger of heart!
better prepared, more content, more Christian, more socialist, in solidarity
more pretty, more free
thankful, blessed, thriving
the identity and spirit of community
by the grace of God….Murillo!!!
Murillo! in the good and bad moments,
Murillo! in sickness and in health,
Murillo! in happiness and in adversity,
Murillo! in need and misfortune,
Murillo! in celebration
dignified, free, just and prosperous. Murillo!
affirming dialogue, harmony, democracy and peace. Murillo.
more faith, more hope and more love for God. Murillo
our neighbors, for ourselves, for our Nicaragua
for everyone and for the good of everyone
Murillo, Murillo! Murillo!
towards new victories
blessed and forever free!!!
#14 The Poopy-Pants Pigman
This little piggy went to Rivas
This little piggy owns a plane
This little piggy just won’t leave us
Little piggy has no shame
Little piggy likes his mansions
That’s where piggy counts his bread
It’s where piggy drinks his whisky
And rests his piggy head
This little piggy went to Rivas
He’s a piggy through and through
This little piggy won’t leave office
He’s still got piggy work to do
-Cairo Isidro Llanes López
#15 La Luna de Xalteva
The moon over Xalteva
Is shining bright tonight
It’s the same moon that I gave ya
But it doesn’t feel quite right
Moonlight, laughter and kissing
Memories that we share
But now The Fluffy has gone missing
And I’m here, you’re there
Yet I’m excited about the changes
Leaving here wasn’t wrong
And the thing that seems most strange-is
I feel at home in Southern Ding-Dong
A good life is a privilege
The path forward’s a mystery
Perhaps we’ll move to Cambridge
If the system doesn’t shit on me
So spread your wings without fear, my dear
Let’s rise above the fuss
Xalteva will always be here, my dear
That moon was made for us