After this poem came to me yesterday I was forced, after much introspection and self-examination, to come to the inescapable conclusion that I am, in fact, a 9-year-old boy trapped in a grown man’s body. Again, you have been warned…
Dead frogs are mushy, frogs they are green,
And when run-over, look like a busted spleen.
Flat legs a-twitchin’ on the ground;
Their heads marmalised – too spread to be found.
Tiny bones cracked, intestines now soup,
Licked up by the pet-dog, and turned into poop.
A Gross-Out Poem By T. James, October, 2011.
Image used under Creative Commons License. Click image for details.
October 13, 2011 at 3:14 pm
LOL! Love it. It reminds me of when I was very small, and my brother and I captured frogs and set them up in a little backyard pond. But they all ran away… across the road. Gross.
Excellent poem. Thanks for digging up a fond (if gross) memory.
October 14, 2011 at 7:01 pm
Frogs are not known for their survival instincts, or their ability to cross the road safely… I hope the therapy bills after this little incident weren’t too expensive
October 13, 2011 at 3:39 pm
LOL, nothing wrong with being a big kid T.J. After all, Growing Old is mandatory, growing up is optional. LOL.
October 14, 2011 at 7:03 pm
I shall remember that quote the next time my wife hauls me up for misbehaviour…
October 13, 2011 at 6:14 pm
You are seriously twisted for writing this TJ! I have not stopped sniggering since I read it the first time. Even more bizarrely; reading it for the second time it was just as funny. Now who is the warped one amongst us: You for writing it or me for coming back for more? There must be something in the air, so aptly inspirational and yet morally wrong, but do we care? Press onwards my friend and might I suggest you try the squished rabbit theory next. It takes ages to stop running round in circles, even with a tyre print down the middle. Jann xx
October 14, 2011 at 7:06 pm
Well… at least the rabbit is pre-tenderised before it gets cooked… It is shameful that annually tons of usable road-kill goes to waste…
October 13, 2011 at 7:36 pm
lol…very funny, TJ…and I totally believe that you are a child trapped in a man’s body.
October 14, 2011 at 7:08 pm
That’s why I sometimes find it hard to write… While adult me searches for interesting plot-lines and characters, mini-me wants to play with Mechano…
October 13, 2011 at 8:34 pm
ROFL I LOVE this poem! It made me laugh a loud – this can become a classic! Thanks for the giggle – keep ’em coming.
October 14, 2011 at 7:09 pm
Thanks Sandy… I shall write more as inspiration, or artistic constipation, moves me, or does not…
October 13, 2011 at 11:27 pm
That has a strange beauty to it. An innocence. And it made me giggle, lots. There’s a kind of eagerness for life and an ability to see beauty in all things that escapes us as adults. So congratulations on your regression
Oh, and that should totally be published in a kids book, or at the very least a greetings card!
October 14, 2011 at 7:10 pm
Thanks Chrissey… It’s nice that someone can think of me as innocent…
October 14, 2011 at 1:30 am
TJ, loved this from beginning to end. It reminds me of the “politically incorrect” fairy tales and poems I had when I was a kid. Thanks for that.
October 14, 2011 at 7:12 pm
Thanks Marianne. I know there’s a kid in me, and I was hoping the poem would reach the kid in others too…
October 14, 2011 at 3:22 am
LMAO! Fricking hilarious! Loved it. As you were.
October 14, 2011 at 7:13 pm
Ma’am! Yes Ma’am! Standing to Attention until next inspiration Ma’am! Alert and Ready for Fiction!
October 14, 2011 at 3:24 am
That was so well done with childlike innocence that I really could see a kid saying that or writing it for a school class. Well done…its like you’re putting yourself into a different character when writing. Isn’t that what writing is about…writing as ‘the character’ and putting yourself in their shoes. You have a knack for doing it, and doing it well. A wonderfully written poem which made me smile thinking about childhood.
Oh, and btw..you’re no different from any other man…they’re all 9 yrs old trapped in older bodies! LOL
October 14, 2011 at 7:16 pm
Thank you Pat… That is one of the scary parts of writing – the self-discovery, and finding that I’m not actually writing as a character, just letting the inner 9 year old out to play
October 14, 2011 at 8:10 pm
Yes, fun, and I also recommend Three Dead Moths in my Mail Box. The blog of writer Jan Markley who also wrote – Dead Frog on the Porch. http://janmarkley.blogspot.com/ Enjoy.
October 19, 2011 at 12:45 am
Thanks for the recommend Diane. It’s good to know I am not the only one with a twisted mind… We writer’s seem to be unnaturally cruel to our little green friends…