Sad Humorous Poems | Sad Poems About Humorous

These Sad Humorous poems are examples of Sad poems about Humorous. These are the best examples of Sad Humorous poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Haiku | |

The Internet: Rtrn

A void of Facebook
Creativity dies here...

Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme | |


Flailin’,  flailin’, flailin’;
There goes my ball sailin’
Into a trap, the water or the woods.

Flailin’, flailin’, flailin’;
You can hear me wailin’,
“Why won’t that damn ball go where it should?

Drives go right.  Putts go wrong.
I shank my wedges or ‘skull’em’ long.
My golf game’s just no damn good.

I’m swingin’ too hard & lookin’ up;
As if I’ll actually see it go in the cup….
As if it ever really would.

My alignment’s too far left or right.
My ball can find the only tree or trap in sight,
Even if the shot starts out lookin’ good.

These days, I carry some special tools:
A handheld weed eater with extra spools
And a pruning saw, in case I’m in the woods.  

I’ve even tried to ‘buy’ a better game.
No matter.  My scores were just as lame.
Those new clubs didn’t do what they should.

Bogies & doubles...even triples... are common scores.
I very rarely get pars any more.
Believe me, I’d change it if I could.

My buddies said it must be me,
A teaching pro I should go see.
They said he’d fix my game…..if anybody could.

The pro said, “Hit some balls while I watch you.
Just set up and hit’em like you normally do.
We’ll see if I can do your game any good.”

After the first bucket of balls I hit,
He calmly said, “Take two weeks off…then quit.
Take my advice.  You really should.”

Now, what really has me vexed,
I’m wondering what I’ll try next.
That pro’s advice was no damn good.

So, I struggle along with my flailin’ game;
But, strangely enough, have fun just the same,
Finding hope in rare shots that are actually good.

Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014

Details | Couplet | |


Sad Sammy starfish, all alone on the beach Wishes for a soulmate, but no one is in reach He looks around, raises his hands into the air Is there a lonely starfish somewhere out there He looks around and espies upon a rock A stunning pink starfish wearing a frock She is oh so beautiful he can only stare Has he found that special someone there He sidles over to her and soon catches her eye Will she be his playmate; he looks up to the sky Sammy wants hold her hand and ask her for a date But which hand would he hold for this starfish has eight! They head off for a walk together along the golden sand You can see them strolling hand in hand in hand in hand Submitted to Story Poem Contest by Carol Eastman 26th April 2015

Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme | |

The Doctor Is A Dead Man Walking

Bob had a special talent
That only worked in his men’s store.
He had ‘clothing ESP’.
He knew what his customers wanted…and more.

When customer would come into his store
Bob would invariably say, 
“Hello. I'm Bob. Don’t say a word.
I already know what you need today.”

And he was always right,
Never missed a color, fabric, style or size.
He even knew the necessary alterations.
Customers couldn’t believe their ears and eyes.

Meanwhile, in another part of town,
Joe had a pounding, relentless migraine
For every minute for more than five years,
It had driven him near insane.

He’d lost his job to the pain.
Then, he lost his wife.
He had lost a lot of weight and rarely slept.
Yes, his was a miserable life.

And, of course,  sex was out of the question…
Even a little self-abuse.
There was nothing left for Joe but pain.
He felt his life was of no use.

So, Joe went to his doctor.
“Doc, please help me end this pain.
Give me something to make me sleep
And never wake up again.”

“You know I can’t assist your suicide.”,
Then he looked sad, perhaps ashamed.
“I never dreamed it would last five years,
But I know how to end the pain.”

“You can make it go away?!
Tell me, Doc!  What’s the word?”
“I’ll have to remove your testicles.”
Was the last thing that Joe heard.

But…when he came to, it struck him.
Sex was out of the question anyway;
But he might enjoy his meals again,
And he could sleep for days.

“Please check me in, Doc.
This opportunity I cannot shirk.”
So, the doctor removed his testicles.
He did his very best work.

A few days later, Joe waddled along,
Headache free and feeling pretty nice;
But every attractive woman he saw 
Reminded him of his sacrifice.

He decided it was appropriate
To do something nice for himself for a change.
So, he went into a travel agency;
And a six month cruise he arranged.

As he left the travel agency,
He was excited, feeling ready to go;
But for such a glorious adventure,
He would need new clothes.

As he walked along, he saw Bob’s Men's Store.
He walked in, only to hear Bob say,
“Hello.  I’m Bob. Don’t say a word.
I already know what you need today.”

“How could you know?” asked Joe.
“It’s a gift.  I don’t know how, but I do.
You’ve suffered five years with an ailment,
Found relief, so now you’re taking a cruise.” 

Joe could not believe his ears.
How could this stranger possibly know?
"You're right! That's amazing!
And I'm going to need new clothes." 

Bob then laid out a fabulous wardrobe
All the right colors, fabrics, styles…and each size.
Joe was incredibly impressed.
He could hardly believe his ears and eyes.

“How do you like the wardrobe?”
“It’s wonderful!”  Bob could see that Joe was pleased.
“Now,” said Bob, “What about undergarments;
You know…shorts and tees?

Let’s see…medium crew neck tees, all cotton.
I believe that you prefer white….
And jockey shorts, all cotton…. 34s.
Yes, I'm sure that’s right.”

Joe beamed, “You’re an amazing talent
And I just this second realized,
You've laid out this entire wardrobe
And only missed one size.”

Bob, surprised by his mistake, asked, “Really?
What did I miss?  I did my best for you.”
“Well…you’re right.” said Joe, “I do wear Jockeys,
But…well…I wear 32s.

“Oh, no!” said Bob with an ugly grimace.
“That would be a serious mistake.
Thirty-twos will cramp your balls, 
You’ll get migraine headaches.”

Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014

Details | Verse | |


One is love, 
Zero is everything else. 

Copyright © A.O. Taner | Year Posted 2016

Details | Haiku | |

Haikus About God: III

Beauty of nature
Why condense it down to God?
Isn’t life enough?

Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013

Details | Acrostic | |

Reflections: Midlife Crisis

P     aranoia permeates, etching itself into your fractured face,
A     cacophony of constant pressure; life remains a stressful race,
N     othing to hope for, no positives like promotion in the workplace,
I      nability to love, relationships lift anchor and set sail without chase,
C     hildren crushing dreams under mortgages; age grows with disgrace

Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013

Details | Epitaph | |

That's Chuck, He's my Friend

What's that in your hand?. Let me see.. He said.
It's a picture; that`s Chuck; he is my friend... I said.
You pick your friends kinda young, don't you?... He said.
No, that was a long time ago. We were in college... I said.
I'd like to hear more about your pal Chuck... He said.

Okay... I met Chuck in New Paltz in `74... I said.
Oh, that's the pot smoking college, isn't it... He said.
Don't generalize, everyone's not the same... I said.
You're right. So tell me some more about Chuck... He said.
Okay, so you want the short version, or long one ... I said.
Whatever you like, I have plenty of time ... He said.

Well, this guy Chuck approaches me; he looks perplexed... I said.
So what was his issue. Why that look on his face... He said.
Chuck tells me "No one will stay with me in the room."... I said.
How odd is that? That doesn't make sense... He said.
You and I swing one way, Chuck swings the other. ... I said.
Now I see what the problem was; What did you do?... He said.
What do you think ? That doesn't bother me.... I said.

Hey, you want to hear a funny story? It's a side splitter... I said.
I've got time. I could use a good laugh right about now... He said.
Chuck had a 53 Schwinn bicycle, all chrome, red and white... I said.
You've got to be kidding me. I haven't seen one in years.... He said.
I'd hop on back. We`d go to town and chug down a few together... I said.
That's not funny. Where's the punchline? So what happened?... He said.
Well, one day Chuck failed a test and got super pissed off.... I said.
That's not funny either. You've got to do better than that.... He said.
He yanked on the handlebar so hard, he busted it clean in half... I said.
Wow ! Did they have "Funniest Home Videos" back then?... He said.

That's not all. We had so much fun together. There's more... I said.
Don't keep me in suspense. Lay it on me..... He said
There was this girl; unique with a special attribute.... I said.
What was so special? Three breasts instead of two?... He said.
No joke, her name was Madam Clittora! Enough said... I said.
I can't believe that. You gonna leave me hanging?... He said.

Anyway, shortly after that, I graduated. Chuck was younger.... I said.
So what happened to Chuck? Good friends keep in touch... He said.
We saw him two years later. We visited With his family, was nice... I said.
Ever see them again? You shouldn't desert a friend.... He said. 
You're right. But things don't always pan out... I said.
So what does that mean? You both seemed quite close.... He said.

I was married at the time with a lot of responsibilities... I said.
So that's no excuse. You should've kept in touch... He said.
After that, I didn't. Time changes things. Wasn't intentional.... I said.
So is there more to this story? There's got to be more... He said.
Oh, there is. Time moves on. 35 years later... I said.

It's 2010 and out of the blue, I think of my old pal Chuck... I said.
So you didn't forget him after all, but almost... He said.
It's a gamble, Chuck Drzal was in the phonebook; I called... I said.
Good for you. You took a chance, renewed a friendship... He said.
You're right. Just like old times. `74 again. What a feeling... I said.
So what happened next. Tell me quick, can't wait... He said.

We talked off and on, old times and new things; it was good... I said.
So it sounds like things are really working out for you guys... He said.
We saw Chuck, in the summertime; looked good for 52... I said.
Hey that's great news; Is there more to the story?... He said.

A little more... His friend died the day after we saw him... I said.
Oh, bummer. Sorry to hear that. How`s Chuck now?... He said.
Called him in November. His diamond ring was stolen... I said.
Wow ! That's a real downer. Did they catch the bastard?... He said
No !... I said.

There's got to be more than that. Call him since then?... He said..
Yeah... but... I called twice... he never answered the phone... I said.
Well, I hope you find out how he is doing?... He said.
I did. Saw his obit a few days ago. He died November 17th... I said.
 He looked at me. A tear rolled down his cheek... He said nothing..
I looked at him. Couldn't speak, all choked up.... I said nothing.
He looked at me. Gave me a hug, turned and walked away.
I yelled to the universe... "That's Chuck, he's my friend!"

Copyright © DENNIS DE ROSE | Year Posted 2013

Details | Bio | |

Solitude: To Yoda, An Ode

Green bark a prism creates,
Feel the pull of earth, you must.

Rotates, a slime of endless hates,
Can hold me not, this world’s crust.

Friendship’s ties, isolation Deflates,
Succumbs, my spaceship, to bitter rust.

Mist, my soul forever permeates,
Lift-off, booms the rocket’s thrust.

My spirit when light returns, elates,
Swamps swell, swallowed hope’s swirling dust.

Trapped, I am, until student from fate
Arrives to learn; Cloud City or bust.

Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Conspiracy: Who Killed The Easter Bunny

A crowded table, all suspended in shock 
The sound of the shot dimming to a ‘knock’
Only silence, except for the marching clock
The weapon still smoking; an anonymous glock

Loud cries arise from the elongated table,
Jack Frost is shocked, the Tooth Fairy unable
To speak whilst Santa is checking the stable
For clues on the erstwhile maidservant Mable

They searched for hours, called in C.S.I,
Panic set in, would the children all cry?
Sandman confirmed the bunny had died
Batman suspected somebody had lied

Guests were quizzed, interrogations began
The mystery unfolded when Santa Claus ran,
Grabbing the pies, he tried escaping in a van
But was stopped in his tracks by superman

Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013

Details | Limerick | |


Ted got nissed as a pewt last night Tried walking, his legs were not right He stumbled and fell Woke up in a cell … He’ll be back in the pub tonight! Submitted to Any poem not for a contest sponsored by Broken Wings 27th February 2016

Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme | |

Hellllpppppppp I've Lost My Banana

Went to get my banana as I headed for the door
It had been on the table that much I know for sure
Last night I put it ready to take with me to work
Now it has gone AWOL and I feel such a berk

I’d gone into the kitchen I was busy multitasking
Picked up my banana, but where is it now I’m asking
Had been to brush my teeth its something I always do
But it isn’t in the bathroom what am I going to do

I’ve checked the kitchen cupboard and underneath my chair
The microwave and fridge – oh damn it isn’t there
Got into my car and listened to ‘The Pearl Fishers’
Maybe my poor banana is somewhere lurking in a fissure

Now I’m back at home and of bananas I do dream
The little yellow fiend it still cannot be seen
I’m starting to worry now that I am turning mad
And I’m also pretty hungry that really is so sad

I will continue in my quest to find the missing fruit
Cos this pain in my tummy is turning quite acute
If I can’t locate it today I may get quite depressed
I need to find that banana and put my mind at rest

Jan Allison
14th May 2014

Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

No Party For Pity

 No party for pity. 
 Question the absurdity. 
 Friends, use discretion 
 if you get an invitation. 
 It's counterfeit. 
 Don't believe it. 
 Don't RSVP, 
 if you receive it. 
 Discard immediately. Don't contemplate. 
 It'll lead you nowhere. Don't save the date. 
 No early, late, or on time arrivals. 
 The doorbell is silent. 
 No lively dinner guests, 
 dressed in their best. 
 No hors d'oeuvres served on a fancy plate. 
 No thought-provoking conversations. 
 No guestbook to sign. 
 No vintage wine. 
 No catered food. 
 No live music for the mood. 
 No celebration for pity's pains. 
 No "congratulations,"  for complaints.         
 No party here. Discard the invitation. 
 Pity's alone, in bitter contemplation.

Copyright © Juliet Ligon | Year Posted 2014

Details | Carpe Diem | |


Your  love pricks me like a rose each thorn grows but no one knows Your so full of 
it as it shows so carry on now go on, go. I'm fed up with the phony and  i'm 
through with the tears, you couldn't pay me all your money to make up for those 
years. Someone help me I feel faint how could I think he was such a saint and 
worst of all I let me fall into a spiral down below. A magic called love carried 
by the dove of someone I use to know.

Copyright © Sam Ruby | Year Posted 2013

Details | Verse | |

Inevitable Bear

Oh lonely Inevitable Bear,
Padding claws, death in white
Sorrow in recurring nightmare
Instinct’s test; fight or flight?

Camouflage against the fence,
A challenge; my subconscious fear
Ominous slowly moving silence,
“Let me in, there’s a bear out here!”

Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013

Details | Limerick | |


An unfortunate fellow named Keith He had terribly prominent teeth When he flashed a smile They stuck out a mile Dribble ran down his chin underneath A beautiful lady caught his eye After dating a kiss they did try But his date soon walked away When his teeth got in the way He was bereft and started to cry 23rd March 2016

Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme | |

Scales Of Despair

the scale is stuck
it won't go up
and, worse, it won't go down
so here I stand
towel in hand
fat and sporting a frown

Copyright © Mary Oliver Rotman | Year Posted 2015

Details | Couplet | |


My leather glove is missing - now I only have one It’s useless on it’s own when all is said and done These gloves were precious to me, I’m sure you’ll understand But I can’t leave the house with a glove just on one hand! I discovered one single glove on the front seat of my car The other one has gone astray - surely it can’t be far So I’ve hunted high and I’ve hunted low But my taupe leather glove is still a no show Now I’ve found some similar gloves on E-bay They’ll be here soon and will really make my day *The gloves were an absolutely perfect fit - mum brought me them when we were in Dublin in 2010 - I will always have the memories but I am so sad at losing one glove Jan Allison 19th April 2016

Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2016

Details | Senryu | |


An itch in my eye

An unbidden thought, startling

Thus tear met finger

Copyright © Pontus Olin | Year Posted 2013

Details | Couplet | |

Quiet as a Mouse

Quiet as a Mouse

Can I finally stop worrying anymore?
Area developer's gonna get us a grocery store
If some secret he's harboring I wonder where
Brunswick County should have one they can spare?

They think we are Millionaires living on a terrace
And every year they will take a trip to Paris
Then when they return with us try to trifle 
Said the looked in London and saw the Eifel.

Our county has many types of people who vary
No telling what they will wear or could carry
Like tattoos on their arms and even knees
That are worn both by she's as well as he's.

Do they think they are all a tourist attraction?
What a way to get some self-satisfaction
By your miserable body being mutilated
That beautiful one for you God had created.

Were answers found in writing on the wall?
Hieroglyphics we found over the long haul
Saying we should get a store near our house.
Asked about it and they were quiet as a mouse.

James Thesarious Hilarious Horn, Retired Veteran

Copyright © James Horn | Year Posted 2015

Details | Narrative | |

My Geisha

It was that damn, no wax, light blue floor.
That was the last atrocity, the very last straw.
Spilled spoils, splattered toils, Roach Motel sadness.
Soilent dust collected from a kitchen cooking madness.
I said, "Sweetheart, it's over. No more. I am done."
"It's time for my geisha. To be born. To become."

Her books I discarded: Cosmo. and Real,
Obliterating all scuff marks of boots and high heels.
At the entrance to each room I posted a sign:
I said, "Sweetheart, it's over. No more. I am done."
"It's time for my geisha. To be born. To become."

I purchased and dressed her in costumes divine,
Of gold and spun silk, a traditional line.
She learned the art of walking on my back without a hitch.
She fed me like an emperor and scratched my every itch.
Until that rabid day I lost my lovely geisha ...
To a bitch!

Now I'm rejected, neglected and shunned.
No wife. No geisha. No body. No sun.
I could have foretold the events you have read:
A carpet abused unweaves its thread.
Still, I must have my geisha --
To my grave I will tread....

Copyright © Tom Arnone | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme | |


Plastic in the plastic bin
Aluminum in another
Food scrapes for compost
Paper bound tight

Glass goes where the glass goes
Am I saving the world
Does it make a difference
Am I doing alright

I cleaned out our bedroom
And found a picture of you
The one with that sly smile
Just a picture of you

I know we parted
I know it was right
But why do I know
I'll stare at your picture all night

Is there a way to recycle
A broken heart
Can you salvage
Each memory broken apart

Can I put in a bin
The first time we kissed
Can I tie and bind away
Every dream every hope every wish

Maybe some other lovers
Can find the treasure we had
Maybe they can reuse our love
And make each other glad

Is there a way to recycle
Love gone bad
Such a waste, hard to replace
When happiness turns sad

Recycling recycling
That's what the world needs
Don't throw love away
Reuse it it's okay

For a love that once was strong
If dusted and cleaned
Can shine in new hearts
That's the magic of recycling.

Copyright © Fritz Purdum | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme | |

The Sad Storyteller

Boys and girls, listen well,
For I have a tale to tell.
Wait, why are you leaving?
I promise you this won't be boring!
It's about unicorns and dragons fighting!

Oh good, I finally got your attention,
Come, sit down and listen.
Come on, I'm starting the story,
If you miss it you're gonna be sorry.

The title of my tale's 'The man in the pond',
Wait, don't go just yet, I promise there'll be unicorns.

Once upon a time there was a traveller,
Everybody calls him Sam the Adventurer.
Once, when Sam was adventuring on a bright morn,
He tripped and fell into a pond.

The pond was not very steep,
But Sam was scared, as he was hydrophobic,
He started to scream and shout,
But nobody was about.

Just when he's about to die,
Suddenly appeared a random guy.
Sam shouted, 'Help me, please! I don't want to die!'
The guy protested, 'But I'm just a random guy passing by!'
With that, and a 'Good bye',
The guy left, leaving Sam to die.

Sam thought for sure he's dead,
When out of nowhere appeared a maid.
Sam shouted to her, 'Please save my life!'
The maid replied, 'Sorry! I need to buy some cake for my master's wife!
And then she hurried away,
Leaving Sam in the pond to stay.

For the third time Sam said his prayers,
When suddenly walked by the mayor.
The mayor saw Sam in the pond,
But before Sam could utter a word he was gone.

And then Sam lost faith in humanity,
He started crying bitterly.
For the first time he realized that the water isn't deep,
In fact, it's not even steep.
So he stood up and got out of the water,
And he had hydrophobia no longer.

From then on Sam's been a hermit,
Visits from no one did he permit.
He had learn his lesson through his adventure,
That man has a very selfish nature.

Well, my dear friends,
My tale's about to end.
What are you saying, unicorns?
Nonsense! Why are you looking so forlorn?
That was a great tale, was it not?

And from that day on,
The storyteller begin to sell corn.
He no longer tell stories, as no one will listen,
They claimed he lied, about the dragons.
So here's the pitiful tale of a once renown storyteller,
Who's now nothing but a sad corn seller.

Copyright © Jason Yew | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? | |

Footballs complicated

>Whoever said football was complicated!!!

Whoever said football was complicated!!!
Was oh so clever, you see.
As when a football team,
is scoring winning goals.
Their fans are full of glee.

But if that same team another game.
Do not play so well.
Or get that football in the net.
That’s when it gets complicated.
And those self- same football fans are upset.

No kind words, do they offer.
As they rant and roam.
Making their way slowly,
out of the football ground and home.

Next week their spirits will be high.
On boozing beer, I do not lie.
So if the football team lose the match that day.
The fans can leave miserably happy I say.

And that’s why football is complicated.
Oh, I guess it was me, who did that say.
Football’s complicated!!! 
Clever old man I am today<

Copyright © STANLEY Harris | Year Posted 2016

Details | Limerick | |


Sue promised to show him her beaver Her beaver - he didn’t believe her! When Sue got him home She started to moan … Her beaver had died from a fever Sue’s beaver was covered in sweat It was too late to call out the vet She got out a spade The beaver was laid To rest at a pretty inlet 09~11~16

Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2016

Details | Quatern | |

My glorious seat taken

Glory ran in my head I was soon to take the lead Made into the Queen The one to rule behind the screen Was suddenly thrust into the light The limelight shining so bright My seat was there, so shiny It all made me so preppy As I climed the stairs I was all in tears A lifetime of repairs Rang in my own ears When I froze, so stony The announcer said sorry A mistake it was, his own My name thrown on the back lawn I watched, as my seat was taken By my contestant, so gladdened No more to be the Queen I was sure to turn mean!

Copyright © Anoucheka Gangabissoon | Year Posted 2013

Details | Epitaph | |

Liberator (Epitaph)

He lived a life of such greatness
And did not die a thousand deaths
To all souls he brought happiness
Even as he breathed his last breath

© Joseph, 8/12/07
© All Rights Reserved

Epitaph is a commemorative poem inscribed on a tombstone or mortuary 
monument written in praise of a deceased person.  Generally, epitaphs are 
small poems with rhyming lines written in reflection of the deceased person’s 
life.  They are not always somber and some are very humorous and witty.

Copyright © Joseph Spence Sr | Year Posted 2007

Details | Rhyme | |

Alice Unloved Part one

Her silhouette was the kitchen green
Of her grandmother's house wanting clean
Her eyes dim the overcast soul within
Little Alice had not a single ghostly friend
Moonlit shadows dancing of grays and soft black
Mocked the little soul in gleeful ghoulish attack
As the moon surrender to the sun
Their haunts echo undone

Alice planted in her granny's rocking chair
Lids of her eyes closed but her soul still stared
The impish sphinx rocking her eternal sway
Forever in a place that love once stayed
Unloved in life unwanted in death
Only grandmother's love could lift
The hurt, the fears, the pain
Gentle the caress sweet sound of her name
"Alice don't cry my love"
"Alice just needs old granny's hugs"

Safe and sound in old granny's lap
Troubles dissolved into a gentle nap
But granny could not forever live
Her parents hating themselves had no love to give
Alone and cold that bleak December night
Alice fled to the abandon house of her only delight
Asleep in granny's rocking chair she froze
Unclaimed her little spirit never rose

Old ghost of the shuttered house's past
Had no use for the sad little lass
Whenever the living intrude
No response from Alice not even a "BOO"
Silent and sad she just sits
This gives the other spirits hisses fits
"Where's my granny?  Alice unloved"
"Where's my granny?  Alice unloved"
"She's no fun just plain and dumb"
"She's no fun just plain and dumb"

No emotions from the girl of stone
But you can't ignore what won't leave you alone
"Rock away in your old granny's chair"
"Rock away do you think we care?"
And then they would all dance around
Hoping at least to catch a frown
But her thin pale lips of faded blue
Not once did they flinch or even move

Bored and tired their night was done
Shadows flee into cracks to escape the sun
But little Alice never stirs
Her fragile essence enjoys the blur
Of the penetrating light that warms her soul
A touch that beats with a love she knows
For the sun brings light and a quiet smile
Her grandmother comes and sits a spill
Together they rock away each day
Free from pain and shadows of gray

But grandmother did not come one day
Her realm from earth was taken away
She was judge good and enters those Pearly Gates
No longer to Alice could her spirit escape
Alice unloved each night and every day
Alice unloved taunted by shadows of gray
Alone in a crowd of ghouls and ghost
Silent and empty for less to most

(continued Alice Unloved Part Two)

Copyright © Fritz Purdum | Year Posted 2013

Details | Epitaph | |

Laurel And Hardy {Epitaph}

                                      American duo great humorists by far
                                      A famous act of our cinema history
                                     Hal Roach's most lucrative comedy stars
                                     Revived on our T.V's in movies or mysteries

 In Loving Memory Of
     Laurel And Hardy

Thanks Again To 
Sir Joseph Spence

Epitaph is a commemorative poem inscribed on a tombstone or mortuary 
monument written in praise of a deceased person.  Generally, epitaphs are 
small poems with rhyming lines written in reflection of the deceased person’s 
life.  They are not always somber and some are very humorous and witty.

Copyright © Katherine Stella | Year Posted 2007

Details | Limerick | |


Ted purchased an Internet bride She arrived and stood at Ted’s side But imagine Ted’s shock – His new ‘bride’ had a cock Ted’s chagrin cannot be denied Ted discovered his ‘brides’ name was Bill Who’d grown breasts with the aid of a pill Ted was very annoyed Said their marriage was void The thought of sex now made him feel ill! Inspired by a comment Arthur made on my poem posted yesterday called Mail Order Brides 17th February 2017

Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2017