Long Humor Poems
Long Humor Poems. Below are the most popular long Humor by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Humor poems by poem length and keyword.
There's gravel grinding in my gut; a godless gearbox of grief growling in my belly's black cathedral.
My heart hammers like hell's hooves, hauling the hearse of every hope I ever had.
I eat dirt for dinner and call it divine, choking on crumbs of my own creation.
My lungs lurch like dying engines, exhaling elegies of exhaust and extinction.
Every breath burns a furnace of forgiveness that refuses to cool.
The devil drums on my ribs like thunder made of teeth and tin.
My tongue tastes of tombstones and tar and a sermon spat through shattered glass.
Even silence stabs sharp sanctified hollering hymns of pain through the marrow of midnight.
I am the meat of my own misery devoured by despair divine.
And stll the gravel grins inside me, grinding and glorying in my ruin.
Hello, cucarachas, whether large or small;
I can't stand the ones that fly or the ones that crawl.
I've got a place for you to spend your days and nights:
You don't need to win this trip on "The Price is Right".
Fill up your cars with gas and prepare to drive
6,000 miles of road before the clock strikes five.
Make your reservations quick and book your lovely rooms;
Little do they realize, they just sealed their doom.
Welcome to Hotel Cucaracha;
It's a lovely place where we crush your face.
Relax at Hotel Cucaracha;
Time to say, "Good-bye!" You're about to die!
The cucarachas came, but they were unaware
Of that repugnant odor, a funky stench in the air.
Then they heard a hissing sound and were sorely afraid;
These bugs fell to the ground 'cause they were sprayed with Raid.
No more cucarachas or their lousy riff-raff;
I threw them in the garbage and did my "Thriller" laugh.
Let this be a lesson, and you better take heed:
You can check in anytime you want, but you will never leave!
(Cue "Thriller" laugh)
You may find this hard to believe
But I just saw a monkey
Drive by me doing eighty
In a Maserati
Eating rainbow ice cream
In a cone from Dairy Queen
I don't mean to sound mean
But should a monkey be eating ice cream
Just then I saw a cat
Right before he went splat
Jaywalking will often do that
And that my friend is straight up fact
The monkey swerved to avoid him
That's when he lost control and
Into a brick wall he slammed
As the ice cream went a flying
Since a cat has nine lives
He came to quite surprised
As Keith Richards does most nights
The ice cream landed just right
The monkey's now in heaven
The cat is ice cream licking
The Maserati is a has been
So I guess this must be the end
Here at Yale University we’re encouraged to attend these campus “get togethers” - to meet other students and broaden our circles. Some are about interesting subjects like politics or science and sometimes you get to meet famous people.
Others are concerned with less interesting subjects - like the bewildering aspects of philosophy: “Would you kill baby Hitler if you had the chance - and if so - could you do it with a gun? Shoot a baby to stop world war two? What if you didn’t HAVE a gun, could you find it in yourself to use your bare hands?”
“Well,” I say, giving it some serious consideration - just to show that I’m as philosophical as the next girl - “if I had BEAR hands, couldn’t I claw him to death?”
Tears of Man
You have the right to remain silent.
Do you make the choice or remain violent?
Do you evolve and become more civilized?
Or do you choose to stay belligerent?
You choose to be healthy, like you are told.
You stop eating junk food; replaced with cold,
And in the end are you any happier?
I have become numb, apart from automatic laughter.
I laugh at things you don’t find funny.
I have thousands of instant thoughts at once.
I eat and eat and still there is a rumble inside my tummy.
You think I am clever, but my hat says ‘D’ for ‘Dunce’.
I tell you tales, and as they set sail,
The rain comes down and people complain;
But I do not complain, for I only see waves,
That carry me home to people I love.
My God!
It sure is,
A beautiful day!
(C)2018 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
The trouble with aging
Is people believe it requires
A “growing up”
A period of maturation
(did I spell that right).
I’ve been around for
Three quarters of a century
With a foot in two millennia
And I still think Pharts are Phunny.
All my secrets are safe
Because I only told them to the dog.
I still make carrot and green bean fangs
At the supper table.
If I “grew up” I wouldn’t
Climb trees to “get that apple, Papa”
Get on the trampoline with a 2 year old
Stop for Slushies with my Granddaughter
on the way home from her gymnastics class.
When asked “How are you doing?”
I reply: “I’m sitting up, taking nourishment,
Tying my own shoes and going out to play”.
The facts of life, O birds and bees,
how getting aroused, can trigger a sneeze,
Weird as it seems, science explains,
this behavior’s no contagious disease,
Apparently nasal erectile tissue,
caused this quirk during evolution,
Was used to discern erotic pheromones,
isn’t that a nice upstanding resolution,
Autonomic reflex gets overloaded,
in which we have no control,
If you have a secret admirer,
an Achoo! could betray their goal,
Now I’ve opened Pandora’s box,
let the cat out of the bag,
Instead of social distancing,
sneezes might encourage a shack,
This poem has some side effects,
even strange permutations,
God bless you! never be the same again,
could construe carnal allegations,
Strange this evolutionary mixup,
is still embedded in our genes,
Contemporary signals of interest,
usually belay bulging jeans,
I’m going out on a limb here,
for better no definitely worse,
Did we humans in our primeval past,
grunt prelingual dirty words,
So many questions surround,
basic instincts of procreation,
Least of which erogenous zones,
are open to interpretation,
Like whispering sweet nothings,
a turn on, in each other’s ears,
Call out the ex’s name by mistake,
your lusty night might end in tears,
So if dressing up like Snow White,
and think someones getting sleazy,
Take it easy on the small guy,
he may just be acting out sneezy.
By
David Kavanagh
Ol' Nellie Bramble; she loved to drink
She never washed and boy she did stink
In every bar in town, she'd cause a scene
And her rich language was quite obscene.
She spent many a night in a police cell
And all night long she'd scream and yell
She'd cuss and sing throughout the night
Then challenge all the duty cops to fight.
Every day when the jail clock struck noon
The police let her go saying "see you soon"
She'd then head for a bar and order whiskey
Try it on with the barmen and get frisky.
One dark wet night Nellie ran out of luck
When crossing the road didn't see a truck
The driver braked hard but he was too late
and poor old Nellie met with a terrible fate.
She was cremated, and ashes put in an urn
The bars proudly displayed it, each took a turn
And at the end of the night they'd raise a glass
To toast ol' Nellie that 'sweet' smelling lass.
Written 9th June 2022.
Once upon a time, back in the near future,
a frog and a fiddler were together by suture.
Now the fiddler played his fiddle all day,
the frog, had a unique croak, in which he did play.
They were ask to play in Nashville Tennessee,
the fiddler and the frog, finally made it to live tv.
They got their tickets, and headed for the station,
when frog came up with a croaking creation.
Fiddler, said the frog, please let me fiddle tonight,
I know how to do it, I'll get it right.
Fiddler said, now frog you know I play the fiddle,
as you croak the word's adding to our riddle.
They announced the frog and the fiddler, as they walked out on stage,
the fiddler begin to play his tune, the frog croaked out in rage.
Just as the fiddler stepped up and sped up the song,
frog croaked out, fiddler, your doin it wrong.
The fiddler in anger, throwed his fiddle at the frog,
the string's broke, rapped around him tied like a hog.
The frog croaked out all wrapped up in fiddle's string's,
the fiddler and the fiddled frog who now no longer sings.
The two that had been held together by such a suture,
no longer had a place in the past, in their near future.
Why? what happened, you ask of me, it's quite simple I do say,
the fiddler he fiddled away, and fiddled frog, well he croaked today.
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