Hey, Hey, Hey... National Bad Poetry Day!

Happy National Rat Catcher’s Day! If you are reading this on July 22 (the day I originally posted it) you are probably honoring your local rat catcher by cranking up the barbecue, exchanging gifts, setting off fireworks, and perhaps lifting up a glass of bubbly. Or you could be doing it up big for National Mango Day. Which is also today. Or National Hammock Day. Yep, that’s today too.

If you’re reading this on July 23, you’re busy celebrating Gorgeous Grandmother Day. Or National Vanilla Ice Cream Day. Or maybe both! On the 24th, it is, of course, National Thermal Engineer Day.

In case you haven’t noticed, there is now a day/month for everything, even things that aren’t really things.

Google “National Days” and you’ll learn that we’ve got National Chocolate Covered Cherry Day in January, National Lazy Mom Day in September, and National Color the World Orange Day in November. March is National Celery Month, National Umbrella Month, as well as National Cheerleading Safety Month.

Then you’ve got National Lima Bean Respect Day (April 20), National Lost Sock Memorial Day (May 9th), and of course, National Upsy Daisy Day (June 8).

I’m not sure who invented these events, but I suspect they are either required to ride in a carseat or they reside in a locked ward at a state facility.

I’m moderately involved in my company’s social media, which is why I often check these quasi-holidays. I keep an eye out for appropriate days/months for us to post about. Given that we contract with the DoD, we tend to stick with space, military, and defense topics. In other words, we won’t be posting about National Tequila Day on July 24 or National Mahjong Day on August 1. (Idea: Why not combine the two? Tequila would make Mahjong infinitely more fun! Am I right?)

Recently, while perusing lists of these strange, made-up celebrations, I spotted one that resonated with me - Bad Poetry Day. I know! I didn’t realize there was one either. But that’s something I can get behind!

Not to be confused with National Poetry Day (October 7), BAD Poetry Day is a day set aside to both honor and write... (wait for it...) bad poetry. For instance, this is the poem being used to promote Bad Poetry Day:

Roses are gray
Violets are gray
Enjoy some dog rhymes for bad poetry day

Not sure, exactly, what dog rhymes are - maybe a dog was actually responsible for that little ditty? - but you get the idea.

Here’s the thing: I could be the Grand Poobah of Bad Poetry Day. I’m like the Tom Brady - the G.O.A.T. - of terrible verse. I’ve been writing poetry since before LeBron James was born, since before cell phones, since Reagan was in office. Yeah, I’m that freaking old. I have filled reams and reams (and reams) of paper (think electric typewriter era) and an incalculable number of MS Word docs with poetry. And probably 99.999% of it has been not just lackluster or mundane or even pedestrian. It has been AWFUL!

I have no problem admitting that. I don’t write poetry to publish or because I consider myself some kind of modern day William Carlos Williams. Way back in the ‘80s, I started writing at least one poem a day. I think it was probably the influence of The Artist’s Way combined with the popularity of journaling. For whatever reason, I got into the habit of popping out the poems. In keeping with the philosophy of morning pages, the idea was to get something on paper, get the creative juices flowing, the ideas percolating, the mojo mojoing. And it works.

What is truly remarkable about this is NOT that I’ve written enough poems to overburden a landfill over the course of the last several decades. What’s remarkable is that I’ve written a landfill worth of BAD poems. Strangely, and rather sadly, I have never gotten any better. In the case of poetry, practice apparently does not make perfect. Except for the very occasional fluke (“Hey... wait a sec... hold on... that’s not horrible!), my poems have never improved. Yet I have not stopped writing them. Why?

The not getting better part has to do with the fact that, quite obviously, I’m not a poet. Maya Angelou we-R-not. The me not quitting part has to do with simple writing discipline. I think writing poems each day, even if they are odoriferous, helps me with other writing. After wrestling and wrangling with words and phrases in poetic form, even if I lose the battle (which I mostly do), I get warmed up. Then when I start working on a short story, novel, or an article/report for work, I’m loose and don’t worry about pulling a literary hammy. (I need to Google “National Literary Hammy Day” - there’s gotta be one.)

I have actually written a few okay poems and even a couple of okay collections. I wrote several collections about the kids when they were little (rhyming), a few free verse collections that weren’t all bad, and I have even given a couple of poetry readings. But these are by far the exception, not the rule.

See the good poem this bad poem ripped off here.

Bad poetry is in my blood. Disposable poetry. Forgettable poetry. Awkward and clumsy poetry. The kind of poetry you would crumple up and shoot into the trash can if this was old school paper times (thankfully now we have the blessed “delete” key).

So anyway, I’m thinking of contacting the folks who make Bad Poetry Day happen and telling them my story. They might offer me a seat on the board or make me a regional director, in charge of organizing bad poetry street rallies.

With that in mind, and with the rising hope and expectation of soon becoming an official part of the Bad Poetry Day team, I would like to take this opportunity to encourage you to participate in this year’s event. Mark your calendars and on August 17, join me in churning out some dreadful, dull, dry as toast words, lines, and phrases. Make them rhyme, make them not rhyme. Either way, let’s focus our energies on cranking out some cringe-worthy verses.

The organizers of National Bad Poetry Day invite everyone to “give it a go by putting pen to paper and writing some terrible verse.”

I’m up for that challenge. What about you?