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Best Humorous Poems

Below are the all-time best Humorous poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of humorous poems written by PoetrySoup members

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New Humorous Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Humorous poems are below this new poems list.

Local Observations: Humorous or Otherwise by Crisis, Dialectic
A Humorous Poem For Cheryl Hoffman by Rose, Mystic
Both Sides Now humorous satire by Mudge, John
Humorous Cat Tale by S , Kit
Guido's Humorous Laughter by Crisci, Andrew
Humorous A's by NeeChan, Onna
Whimsy was a humorous hen by CHAKRABARTY, RAJAT KANTI
Humorous Haiku by Spangles, Suki
A HUMOROUS GROWL by Walker , Verlena S.
Humorous Tribute to Three Soupers by bunch, wayland

View all new Humorous Poems

The Best Humorous Poems

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AT THE FOOTBRIDGE - LIMERICK COLLABORATION

At the footbridge Sue was meeting her beau (He was married to a woman called Flo) Sue soon found out his deception She dismembered his erection For his love life it was a massive blow To the hospital fled poor Rodger For an op to repair his todger Now fixed, it's SO big Rodger grunts like a pig in porn films as Rodger the lodger Inspired by but not for contest BY JAN ALLISON 7~18~16 He promised Flo he never would leave her And she would be his only receiver But she caught him with Sue And his chances were through Gnawing off wood when he neared her beaver WRITTEN BY TIM SMITH Sue castrated that cheating deceiver With one whack of her meat cleaver she pulled a Lorena Bobbit turned Rodger into a Hobbit Sue's now known as an "overachiever" WRITTEN BY MARTI SUTHERLAND Across the table sits sweet Amee Once A Roger, before he became a she The master of infidelity So many personalities Before and after he became an amputee.. WRITTEN BY SKAT A He was known as a terrible stoner With a huge un-deflatable boner It now sits in a jar At the end of the bar A reminder to all of its owner... WRITTEN BY JOHN LAWLESS It’s become a tourist attraction As a symbol of female subtraction Grannies sneak in for a peek Everyday of the week Dreaming of former of love action. WRITTEN BY MARK WOODS Oh how sad that pork missile should be unemployed but for all there to see if science, in a jiffy can rejuvenate stiffys then the first in the queue would be me! WRITTEN BY VIV WIGLEY Flo wanted to give Sue a high five For slicing Rodger with all his jive A two timing fool Who broke every rule Now lil Rodger don't work in overdrive WRITTEN BY ALEXIS Y Rodger's story has been immortalized For having his thingy circumcised It's on display in a bar Now hanging in a jar While it's slowing becoming crystalized WRITTEN BY MARTI SUTHERLAND As she ponders on what to eat Hopefully, it won’t be red meat For there on the log Is Rodger's hot dog So she gets excited and jumps off her feet. WRITTEN BY WINGED WARRIOR There's a lesson I really must blurt To all those blokes out chasing some 'skirt' When you're on heat Don't share your meat 'Cause your todger might really get hurt! WRITTEN BY MARK WOODS Poor forgotten noteworthy Sue Looking so gloomy she blew At the pickled todger once belonging to Rodger kissing good times its last adieu WRITTEN BY EVE ROPER As "Roger" snaked out of the door It went past a room on tenth floor. A woman therein Said "Come right on in." she kept screaming, "More, I want more! WRITTEN BY ANDREA DIETRICH After Sue chopped his tally-whacker Poor Roger became quite the slacker He tried to bring his pecker forth Never again to be pointing north Now when he pees he sits on the crapper. He stopped at the house, the red-light was on Knocked on the door, the girls were all gone Stuck with his sawed-off boner Tonight He's going to be a loner Damn, why did the girls all have to be gone? BOTH POEMS WRITTEN BY JAMES ANDERSEN A group of limericks quite clever Began with one simple sever Of engorged penis which is, (between us), I think, a spicy endeavor WRITTEN BY H PENELOPE SWIFTLOCK There was perfection in his pecker, as a porn star he was a wrecker, but to his wife he was unfair, so she severed what was down there, now his only job is director. WRITTEN BY CASARAH NANCE Poor Roger thought he was being slick when he carved out a handcrafted prick he rubbed his new attire his precious toy caught fire Now he is left with an ashen stick WRITTEN BY TEPPO GREN An ashen stick means man minus prick. Poor Roger, now a eunuch, without a fix. He decided to become a transgender. Then off he went on a bender. Woke up married to a man from Bertrix WRITTEN BY JEAN MURRAY Rodgers new love was a prudish fox but for brains she had a head of rocks he splinted up his willy popsicle sticks look silly he said it was new and still in the box! WRITTEN BY SONNY ROPER (EVE'S HUBBY) To be fair "At the Footbridge" Now to be completely fair And to stop every persons stare Rodger was not actually circumcised As he was a player, so don’t be surprised This was from wear and tear and his willingness to share WRITTEN BY MARK PAUL VAN DER MERWE


Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2016

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To all the heart breakers -a ZOMBIE's valentine

Wouldn't you rather~

Wouldn't you rather be dead?
Maybe shoot yourself in the head?
Over my dead heart, I'd never want to be a zombie like you.
The sight of your limbs are rotten all the time.
All synonyms say of you looks like a 3 legged swine.
Go ahead and do us all a favor, 
hide and stash yourself away from all your neighbor. 
I think I'd rather have my eyes stuck with glue
So I won't have to look at you
When it comes to family friends, you ain't got none.
You're always gonna be called the lonely retarded one.
Who could ever love a face like yours.
not even your mother see's pass your gores 
No need for privacy when you pee
Go ahead and take a leak and drown yourself in the sea.
Don't think for one second you are irresistible 
Love making with a zombie is impossible.

Wouldn't you rather be dead?
maybe shoot yourself in the head

The time to kill yourself is at hand.
Slicing your wrist is what we recommend.  
Cut your tongue off, don't want to hear you squeal.   
Blood all over, your face is no big deal
A sword or machete will only pick up the pace
I wanna see your guts pop out your mid-waist 
Contaminated objects is a must
Anything to remove your face of disgust.
The easy part is the best
Once you are gone we will all feel blessed,
The flaw of your existence  
Is what keeps us all in distance 

Wouldn't you rather be dead?
maybe shoot yourself in the head

Close your eyes and die
No one wants to hear you cry
You said you wanted to be loved
believe me~ you're better off unloved
I say do yourself off
Anyways you've always had it rough...
Go ahead and scream
This is not a dream
Now see how you make me feel
All I want is for you to end your ugly ordeal.
I will praise this day of course
Knowing soon you'll be a rotting corpse.

happy valentine ~ TO: All My DEADBEAT X-es from Texas.


Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2012

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POOR PETER PUMPKIN

Poor Peter Pumpkin had a very itty bitty head.
So the farmer made him stay inside the garden bed.

The farmer said that he was going to keep him warm with hay.
And there the itty bitty pumpkin stayed for many a day.

Finally, the farmer came to check upon poor Peter,
measured him and then exclaimed, “You’ve grown an extra meter!

I think it’s time for you to finally go and face the world.”
Peter got up from his bed. He twirled and twirled and twirled!

“My,” the farmer shouted, “You’ve grown two legs with feet!
You’re a special pumpkin. My daughters you must meet!”

Poor Peter heaved his hefty bulk, waddling away,
following behind the farmer so he would not stray.

They traveled rather quickly, and soon they reached the house.
The daughters saw the pumpkin and grew quiet as a mouse.

The silence lasted just until at last one daughter spoke,
“A pumpkin with two legs? Is this some kind of joke?”

Her father knelt beside her and whispered in her ear,
“Do not be afraid, my child. You’ve not a thing to fear.

We can carve a lantern. It will be your Halloween treat.
Then we can make lots of pumpkin pies for us to eat."

Peter trembled with a chill to hear their horrid plan.
Jumping out the door, he yelled, “Catch me if you can!”

He ran into the pastures. Then he tumbled down a hill.
As  he rolled he bumped into the couple, Jack and Jill!

“Oh dear me,” cried Peter, “I do not wish to be
a lantern for this Halloween. Please, can you guys help me!”

Jack and Jill then led him to the land of Nursery Rhymes.
His sad fate has now been told to children many times.

For he ran across a man named Peter Pumpkin EATER.
Maybe you can guess now what became of our poor Peter!

10~12~14
Contest: Halloween Co-Writes
Sponsor: Diane Locksley
Written By Jan Allison & Andrea Dietrich
~awarded 1st place~


Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2014

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Playing Human

Introducing: Nate & Linda

The smile on my lips
is forced and coerced
I pretend to pay attention
give the best possible advice
everyone praises me
I'm so kind, polite and nice
It's all just automation
I rarely actually listen
certainly don't care
all I'm doing
is playing human
blending in
fitting in
I'm so perfectly hidden
you'll never even
see a curtain, 
   from where I stand
   Majoring in social events
   Put on a pedestal
   for computing with you
   I'm so perfectly hidden 
   smiling from time to time
   Labeling those 
   with all sincerity
   open soldiery  
   Passing along an appeal
   continuing to fit in
   blend in
   pretend
   force program 
   Is it just me or
   am I the perfect human?

~A Poet Destroyer Collaboration~


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015

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I Knitted You A Scarf

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                            IKNITTEDAWINTERSCARF
                            ALARGEINTRICATECASH
                            MEREFANCYPANTSGENT
                            LEMANJIMKINDOFNECKC
                            LOTHESPEOPLEWEARARO
                            UNDTHEIRPREVIOUSLYNA
                            KEDSKINBETWEENTHEIRH
                            EADSANDTHEIRSHOULDER
                            SWHICHREALLYCOUNTSIF
                            YOULIVEINABELOWZERO
                             WEATHERCITYWITHAFREE
                               ZINGCOLDATMOSPHERE
                              THATWILLMAKEYOURTE
                              ETHCLATTERANDCLINKMA
                              KINGSOUNDSTHATWOUL
                              DRATTLEEVENTHOSEWIT
                              HTHESTEADIESTOFNERVES
                              THETYPEWITHTHOSESTRO
                               NGJAWSTHATPOTRUDEBE
                               YONDTHEIRFACESANDDRI
                                VEFATBOYHARLEYMOTOR
                               CYCLESANDCOULDCRUSH
                                YOUWITHJUSTALOOKFROM
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                                EIRVISAGEWHICHISASTRANG
                                 EWORDTOUSEHERESINCEITH
                                 INK"VISAGE"ISONEOFTHOSE
                                 SOPHISTICATEDWORDSOFFR
                                ENCHORIGINWHICHISNOTARA
                                WCOUNTRYTYPESLANGKINDO
                                 FWORDWHICHWOULDBEMUCH
                                  MOREAPPROPRIATEFORBIKEM
                                  ANANAMEICOINEDMYSELFFOR
                                  MARKWHOTURNSOUTTOBEAN
                                 UNEXPECTEDLYKINDGUYWHO
                                  TURNSOUTSUITSTHEWORDVI
                                  SAGEINFACTONEWITHAGREATS
                                   MILETHATOCCASIONALLYPOPS
                                    UPONMARKSFACEIACTUALLYE
                                    VENGAVEHIMTHESCARFASAGIFT
                                     (PAUSE)(2)(3)(4)ASWELLASMYW
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THE CASHMERE WOOL I USED TO KNIT A SCARF I knitted a winter scarf, a large intricate Cashmere fancy pants, Gentleman Jim kind of neck clothes people wear around their previously naked skin between their heads and their shoulders which really counts if you live in a below zero weather city with a freezing cold atmosphere that will make your teeth clatter and clink making sounds that would rattle even those with the steadiest of nerves. The type with those strong jaws that protrude beyond their faces and drive FatBoy Harley motorcycles and could crush you with just a look from where their eyes sit on their visage which is a strange word to use here since I think "visage" is one of those sophisticated words of French origin which is not a raw country type slang kind of word which would be much more appropriate for bike man a name I coined myself for Mark who turns out to be an unexpectedly kind guy the type it turns out suits the word visage in fact one with a great smile that occasionally pops up on Marks face I actually even gave him the scarf as a gift (pause) (2)(3)(4), as well as my wallet my car keys, my credit cards, my pin numbers, my watch...


Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2016

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JAN ALLISON has a Fan

JAN HAS A FAN


Jan Has no Tan

I once saw a gal called Jan
So sexy she made me ran
Straight to the vicar
Said marry us quicker
Whilst she drank her tea on the can


She is as White as pure Sand

I once met a gal in white dress
I fell straight in love I must confess
She was drinking her tea
While I stared at her knee
Surely my intentions she guessed


She Sips Her Tea Daily

I once met a gal drinking Tea
My heart was pumping in glee
From her nose to her toes
When she smiled I froze
So charming I become a devotee

While I Admire Her so Gayly

When I saw the lady in the white dress
My thoughts she I did undress
As she gazed out the window
She caught peeking Jimbo
Who was in quite the state of distress


I am a fan of the great poet Jan

There once was a gal who could fart
She refined it into an art
Her white dress in a breeze
Would lift till you sneeze
But she’ll always be my sweetheart




Notes: I just realized the title, as far as Jan is concerned , well could have a double meaning!


Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016

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GREEN WITH ENVY

Envious Ivy was her name I’d buy something new – she’d put me to shame My designer coat in a shade of emerald green Ivy bought an identical one just to be mean She was the most terrible copycat See your purchase and say ‘oh I fancy one like that’ If I got a new car you could guarantee Ivy would get the same just to copy me She was like a shadow that just wouldn’t leave If I had a great idea then Ivy would thieve The copying went on for many many years I got so fed up with it I'd end up in tears Imitation is said to be a great form of flattery Ivy was so jealous she should have lived in a cattery I recently heard that Ivy had passed away Do I have plans to copy her … NO WAY! Contest:It’s Spring – Show Me Green – Francine Roberts 03~25~15


Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2015

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AND THEN I KISSED HIM - COLLABORATION WITH TIM SMITH

Hot date
Can’t wait

We're at
My flat

Cute eyes
Nice thighs

Admit
She’s fit

So sweet
Must eat

We dine
Sublime

First Kiss
Sheer bliss

Soft peck
On neck

Tongue's twirl
Toes curl

First base
Hearts race

Undressed
Bare breast

Blimey
She’s ‘HE’

No joy
Ladyboy

Fussy
Pussy

Night ends
As friends

Written by Jan Allison & Tim Smith
28th August 2014


Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2014

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Plato and Socrates

Dramatic prose for the pompous asses
I throw my Platos at you
If you come any closer
I will Socrates you right in the nose
Demands, demands!!!! The clowns now have demands?
I say, rise up oh poets of the infinite dot universe
Proclaim the revolution a new
Justify our fight with words wrapped in doo doo
When I see a condescending donkey trip on his verbatim
I laughs cause I know he will fall into Satan's den
I am at eleven, usually a sober man
I carry my saber high and shout "Ekphrasis I don’t give a bloody damn"
Infinite ............................ Universe


Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2015

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The King of Sanctimonious

The King of Sanctimonious
Perched high upon his throne-ious
Clothed in purple pious-ness
Admired his own self-righteous-ness

The Queen of Sanctimonious
Tired of the King's baloney-ous
When he counts his hoards of money
To him, sweeter than his honey

In a court that wasn't courteous
The Queen cried, "you're oblivious!"
But he wasn't aware, nor did he care
He'd become a Royal hypocrite

Day after day, he counted each coin
The ritual put a flutter in his groin
Reveling in his Royal room
Soon became his tomb of gloom

The Royal epitaph was no baloney-ous
When the king was found
 'Tis said he drowned
In a fermented bottle of loneliness




Copyright © Karen Anglesey | Year Posted 2013

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Cas Tim Jan And Me

You have all heard I am sure of the three musketeers
The group with the swords not the ones with the funny ears

Reminds me of a joke that right here would apply
There are three kinds of people I tell you no lie
Those who are really quite good at math
And those who are not and that's that

They were the three musketeers but they were four
Their math was bad not three, four and no more
I hope you're all still with me, I'm not trying to be a pest
I need you to follow me because at the end there's a test

There is Casarah 
Yeah and hurrah
She is a good ma

Then there is Tim
You should know him
He's tall and trim

And  finally there is the kind hearted Jan
From England she's the one with no tan
Coy and demure behind her fancy fan
 
 If you kept count that makes three
Who can argue. You'd have to agree.
Now we have arrived at what I am trying to say
I've just joined them and I quite enjoy sword play

Do you see? I am number four.
I'll just walk through their door.
That makes me the best, the fillet mignon
It turns  out that I am frikin'  D'Artagnan.


Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2014

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VINCENT VAN GOGH

Vincent van Gogh** Sliced his left ear off Only one painting did Van Gogh sell - maybe he didn’t hear the doorbell! The only painting Van Gogh sold during his lifetime was Red Vineyard at Arles **Based on the European pronunciation of the name which is Van Goff! 05~30~15 Entered into Premiere contest #11 sponsored by Skat A


Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2015

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BEACH FOOTLES COLLABORATION

Hot sun What fun Soft sand How grand Blue sea For me High tide Surf side Beach babe In shade Undress Top less No finds Tan lines Swim suit… pursuit He sports Tight shorts Romance? No chance Jan Allison Casarah Nance 1st December 2014


Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2014

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Chopped III - Humor

i narrate me own story in a fake english accent. the bloody typewriter is 
broken, it can't capitalize. i'm out of coins for the heater. i can see me own 
breath. it must be really bad . it's summer here in london. i'm a tough guy who 
carries a gun. don't mean i don't want to look good. i freshen up my lipstick,
light up a cigarette and offer one to my secretary. she is hot really hot.
like i said it's summer. she don't wear lipstick it wouldn't help. in the 
encyclopedia under the word butch is her picture. 

i put out my cig in an ashtray overflowin. i'd tell her to empty it but she scares me. 
she only wears one gold earring. who does that? i'm workin on a case, already 
drank half the beers. by the way i'm a dick a private dick. the name is rock,
rock hard. there's a knock at the door. this could be bad she has two fourty fives, 
she's also got a gun. 

she's holding an airline ticket. no reason. she says she just likes it. 
whatever! maybe it has to do with some kind of contest. 
she says we're going for a ride. we are driving when she gets a flat.

i pump she pumps then we get out  of the car and fix the flat. never liked 
cars, horses are more convenient. less breakdowns. she takes us to a 
party everyone is jumpin for joy, so joy gets up and leaves. bet you wish 
this was going somewhere. it's not. like i said i'm a dick.


11~28~2014
Contest: Chopped III
Sponsor: craig cornish


Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2014

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A Tribute to a Major Appliance

Sub-titled: What’s in YOUR Fridge?

Please allow me to introduce myself:
My name is Ms. Fridge A. Daire
I stand tall among my lesser cohorts
and MOST of them really look up to me

However, I have two problems:
First, I’m FED UP with my owner
He's always opening my door
reaching deep inside (Oooh yeah!)
helping himself to my goodies
without EVER cleaning me out
or scrubbing me from top to bottom
Doesn’t he know a woman has NEEDS?

Then there’s that stupid stove next to me
who’s constantly flirting and making passes
Says he wants to ‘warm me up’ and ‘defrost’ me
bragging that I’ve ‘got the hots’ for him
which absolutely makes my Freon boil!
Of course, I always give him the cold shoulder
by freezing him with my famous icy stare
and responding, “Simmer down Four-Eyes"
or “I don’t date shorter appliances"
But he’s always cooking up something else...

So I asked my owner to move me to another spot
He said he would if I wasn’t so heavy...HEAVY?
What kind of thing is THAT to say to a lady?
He also claims there’s no other place to plug me
PLUG me? Who does he think I am anyway?
I found it quite crude and vulgar...ANYWAY
I suggested an extension cord and he blew a fuse!
Geez, no wonder he’s still single...





  


Copyright © Tim Ryerson | Year Posted 2015

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This Is Jack

Yesterday I saw a very creepy mouse, Sneaking right through my front door, He was wearing tails and a top black hat And dragging a large suitcase too When he saw me, he run inside, And past me he sped so fast, Into the kitchen he went in, To a tiny hole, with suitcase and all I tried everything, to flushed him out, From the hole just as fast. I played him music extremely loud; And even called him on his cell phone So I ordered him some cheese pizza, Provolone and jack cheese by the pound, And placed it close, for him to come out and eat, But...he grabbed with him in a flash An email he sent me later on, In which this certain note,to me he wrote: "This's Jack,thank you,for giving me more food, Now I can stay with you, for another three years. Dorian Petersen Potter aka ladydp2000 copyright@2005 October,19,2014


Copyright © Dorian Petersen Potter | Year Posted 2014

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Newton's Law

I was inattentive in Science class one day
When the teacher at random looked my way
I didn't look up, I wouldn't dare
There's no escaping that intense glare.

Asked me to explain to the class
Newton's Law of Gravity and mass
My mind was a blank, heartbeats louder
For an answer I started to flounder.

I stood before the class trembling with fear
"Gravity" I said...and then oh dear!!!
I fell off the stage on to the floor
How the class with laughter did roar.

The children tittered in great amusement
They didn't know my sad predicament
The teacher said, "You've demonstrated gravity"
"Although you did it with much levity".

At length I returned to my seat
With many applause did they greet
Now I look back upon this and ponder
I decide to listen and not let my mind wander.


Copyright © Nandita Das | Year Posted 2015

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Just Desserts

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I was at my favourite restaurant and had a lovely meal If I finished all my food then a pudding was the deal I’d relished every morsel and was pleased as a Cheshire cat The dessert menu was on its way, Oh I couldn’t wait for that The waitress bought the menus and I rubbed my hands with glee Oh sticky toffee pudding, now that’s the one for me She came to take the order – we had waited as you do She finally turned to me and said ‘oh Madam what can I get you’ Oh stiffy cockie pudding please was my swift reply I didn’t realise what I’d said till I saw the tears form in her eye I went as red as a beetroot and the others began to laugh At my spoonerism which turned into a complete gaffe The pudding it came quickly but I couldn’t wait to leave I choked on every mouthful and my stomach it did heave So please take notice of my error on this horrendous day If you order sticky toffee pudding be careful what you say! 2/2/14 Entered into Just make me laugh contest Sponsored by Christine Lehman This is a true experience! The waitress was a student at the school I work at - I was so pleased when she went to university - I have never ordered this dessert since! This is my first poem posted here and it is my first poem to be published in a book by United Press


Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2014

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Our Christmas Eve Dinner

'Twas our Christmas Eve dinner; we all had sat down at the table to eat. Grandma couldn’t be found! We children were fussing; Dad rose to his feet. shouting, “Where are you, Ma? We’re ready to eat!” When from the next room we heard such a noise Jenny squealed, “Santa Claus must have brought toys!” We then heard a sound like a whimpering pup saying, “Help. I’ve fallen and cannot get up.” Grandpa jumped up and then rushed to the door that led to the bathroom. There on the floor lay our poor grandma, eyes widened in fear, looking like she’d got run over by reindeer! The dresser had fallen. It had her pinned down. Grandma was wildly flailing around. More swiftly than Rudolph, we did all we were able. We unpinned her. Then Mom yelled, “Back to the table!” Back to the dining room all we kids came As our mom started to call us by name. “Davy, Mel, Jenny, Angie, Marie. . . Get back here now. I’m counting to three!” Like animals not having eaten all day, stuck in a cage without getting their way, we sat at that table our bellies all growling, and Davy, the baby, by now was howling. And then finally what did appear? Dad with our grandpa and grandma so dear! Supported by both our grandpa and dad, Grandma was flushed and looking quite bad. She was dressed in a housecoat trimmed in white lace and a big purple bruise had now formed on her face. Mom pulled out a chair helping Grandma to sit, and then our dad bellowed, “OK, have at it!” Our mouths how they watered to see the large ham. “And that isn’t all,” said Mom, “I made lamb!” Her small pretty mouth was turned up in a grin, “The food’s getting cold now. Children, dig in.” Our dad how he laughed as he poured lots of gravy onto his potatoes and kidded with Davy. And Grandma sat smiling despite her great fall while Grandpa gulped spiked nog, not talking at all. With eyes that seemed bigger than my own belly, I dished out big spoonfuls of cranberry jelly. Mom winked and I knew I had nothing to dread. Her pleasure was in us all being well fed. I went straight to work at stuffing my face when suddenly Mom said, “We didn’t say grace!” We closed our eyes listening to our dad’s prayer. I peeked but was met by my mom’s warning stare! Dad finished the prayer with a hearty Amen. Then we were all grabbing Mom’s fixings again. When the food had all vanished and our stomachs hurt, we heard Dad exclaim, “So what’s for dessert?” For the Children's Christmas or Holiday Tale - Poetry Contest of Carol Eastman


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2012

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HE'S SMOKIN'

Sir Henry was playing his flute He also was smoking cheroot But when his attire Was soon caught on fire I’m guessing he’s not so astute! 04~18~15 Contest: Famous Einstein Quotes – John Freeman Albert Einstein Quote ‘The only source of knowledge is experience’ ~awarded 1st place~


Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2015

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And Nothing Else Matters-A Cell Phone Rant

Perhaps in a row they sit on their chair.
At their small object they all like to stare.
They speak with no voice; the room’s silence grows.
They sit on their chair, perhaps in a row.

With both thumbs moving, such dexterity!
Faster than cheetahs their thumbs seem to be.
Some with small headphones also are grooving.
Such dexterity with both thumbs moving.

You utter a word; I doubt they will hear.
On screens, words are better than in one’s ear.
Conversing sans screen they might find absurd.
I doubt they will hear you utter a word.

I see them in class not looking at books
in spite of their teachers’ dirtiest looks.
Tell them to stop; they just give you their sass, 
not looking at books!  I see them in class.

Their phones are in use all hours of the day.
Do not even try to take them away!
You might be accused of phone/child abuse.
All hours of the day their phones are in use.

I see moms alone with a child that’s hurt,
Not even giving their child some comfort.
Nothing else matters but their precious phone.
With a child that’s hurt I see moms alone.

The cell phone’s their all - their almighty God.
Anything else for them must be a fraud.
Some only text you; they won’t take your call!
Their almighty God - the cell phone’s their all.

When did this begin? Bringing phones in school?
Kids who don’t have them are thought not too cool.
To take students’ phones is likened to sin.
Bringing phones in school. . .When did  this begin?

A time and a place there is for all things.
I hate at the movies when a phone rings!
Cell phones at dinner? An utter disgrace!
There is for all things a time and a place.

Sadly, much worse, there’s texting while driving.
If you’re not trying to be surviving,
do it! Your next ride might be in a hearse.
There’s texting while driving, sadly much worse.

Nothing else matters to addicts, I know.
*Every cloud has a silver lining though -
Less actual talking with those mad as hatters!
To addicts I know, nothing else matters.


*Cliche used (Every cloud has a silver lining)/ this line checked by Howmanysyllables.com, which counts Every as a 2-syllable word.
Also used inspiration from the Metallica Song: Nothing Else Matters & Picture #3

Written April 28, 2016 and inspired by the  Lyrics cliché image  contest of Silent One
using Swap Quatrain style, a form created by Lorraine M. Kanter and described at Shadowpoetry.com.


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2016

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IT'S NOT QUITE SHAKESPEARE

Tubby or not tubby fat is the question! Jan Allison 21st November 2014


Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2014

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Chapter and Verse a live poetry recital

Good evening Ladies 
May I say, I am honored and privileged
As this is the first ever time
I have read in front of a woman’s only group
And a fine group of bovine beauties you are

I truly hope you have enjoyed dinner
The poetry portion of your evening is about to begin
First I wish to thank Betsy for inviting me
She mooooed me over from day one
I must also offer my sincere apologies
If I have eaten any of your relatives
A simple but tasty misunderstanding at beast, ops best

This evening’s poetry reading will have background music
Lyrcial Jazz music is like the spice to my gourmet poetry
Richard here is on Sax, and Dave will play the guitar
So feel free to sit or stand, rain or shine
Graze upon this artistic feast of cultural poetry

I shall recite four movements here, thus to allow you
Breaks for your own movements so to speak
I wish you an udderly fantastic evening


This piece is called “Chapter and Verse”

Part 1)

Borrowed words


Overdue loans
On faded words
Tears melting ink
Wisdom's die 
Collection time
Bankrupt soul
With no words to share


Moooooo mooooooo Mooooooo 
Mooo Mooooooo Mooooooo Moooooo
Cow bells jingle
More Moooos moooo moooooo


You gals are sooooo  Mooovarlous

Now for Part 2)


Overdue books

Wine splashes the pages
Of my mind
Melancholy whispers to me
Here, here 
The past sings me a song
Withered books 
Our collective memories
Buried in the pages of history


Moooooo mooooooo Mooooooo 
Mooo Mooooooo Mooooooo Moooooo
Cow bells jingle
More Moooos moooo moooooos

Oh My God really stop it
You Gals are udderly amazing
Thank you so much

I really appreciate your Cowcil


On to Part 3 Ladies

Sad Chapters

I danced 
I drank
Love and wine
Penelope Sosa
Stole heart and mind
Debts paid
Her beauty refined
Lonely betrayal
I dine on sad chapters

Moooooo mooooooo Mooooooo 
Mooo Mooooooo Mooooooo Moooooo
Cow bells jingle
More Moooos moooo moooooos

You gals really are overdoing it
However I do have a part 4, you are such a great audience
For fans like you, I am willing to milk this poem to the end


The last Verse

Mathematical potions
Equations that dream
A soft kiss lade upon my sleeping heart
Is it you? Is it you that lightens my soul?
Spread your wings for me
I shall smell the sweet scent
Of your poetic juices
As we lay entwined
Inside the last verse

Standing Mooooooooovations
Moooooo mooooooo Mooooooo 
Mooo Mooooooo Mooooooo Moooooo
Cow bells jingle
More Moooos moooo moooooos


Well I must thank you dearly
I confess I was somewhat Cowardly to perform
However you gals where just great
I will be signing autographs back at the barn!!!!!!


Note: This poem was sponsored by Dr Doo Little


Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2015

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I NEVER EVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN

One look at you – that’s all it took Those long long legs that seem to go on forever Those eyes staring at me All I feel for you is revulsion Hate – it’s a horrible word but I simply detest you There is no place for you in my life Goodbye So I flushed the spider down the plughole 26th March 2015


Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2015

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In Lieu of the Rodeo

	Oh cripes I’ve gotta tell yer of a horror ride I had,
	That beat any bronc or bull I’ve rode, and I must say I’m glad,
	I’ll never have to ride like that, again to hold me seat.
	Now rodeo is ‘kiddies’ stuff compared to what I beat.  

	I’d been knockin’ ‘round the circuit an’ was headin’ to the ‘Hill’.
	I was lookin’ out for action ‘cause I had some time to kill,
	So I called to see a mate o’ mine, an’ he turned on a spree,
	But grog, peanuts and pickled onions don’t agree with me.

	I s’pose it was ‘round midnight, I stirred in his shearers hut.
	I woke up hearing grumblin’ an’ it was comin’ from me gut,
	So I thought I better visit the house that’s up the back.
	Me head was pretty ‘woosy’ an’ it was a wobbly track.

	But I settled down to do the job contented on the throne;
	Suddenly the still was broke an’ trees began to moan,
	The flamin’ breeze began to roar into a mighty squall,
	An’ branches broke, an’ iron crashed against the dunny wall.

	The dunny started moving and was leaning to one side,
	Just like the chute gate opened and I’m goin’ for a ride,
	One second I was bolt upright, and now I’m on me head,	
	I was clinging on a winner, and then we hit the shed.

	The dunny spun a circle and the dunny roll shot free,
	An' wrapped itself around me neck an’ damn near strangled me.
	Bloody redbacks started flying from their secret hidin’ place,
	An' I reckon that a hundred were clingin’ to me face.

	Then a resident old taipan who’d been dozing in the rafter
	Was flamin’ blamin’ me for this creation of disaster,
	It was snapping in the turmoil at me hands and at me feet,  
	But let me tell you hear and now. I held on to that seat.

	For nothing on this flamin’ earth would ever get to throw,
	Me from this position, ‘cause I know what’s down below,
	So when the twisting dunny bounced off a coupla’ trees,
	I had me ankles ‘round me ears and me head between me knees.

	Even then above the din I could hear the constant hum,
	From a hundred thousand blowflies bouncing off me bum.
	But let me tell you once again, it’ll be a mighty feat,
	For just one of them blowies to get past me on the seat.

	An' then just like it started, the wind subsided in the night,
	But I’m further up the track in the dunny back upright.
	I’m battered, bruised and bitten, still clinging to the seat,
	So at the rodeo ‘tomorra’… I’ll still be smelling sweet. 



Copyright © Lindsay Laurie | Year Posted 2015