Creation Funny Poems

These Creation Funny poems are examples of Creation poems about Funny. These are the best examples of Creation Funny poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse |
The Leprechaun.

Run, run, run as fast as you can...
I'm still gonna get you, my little green man...
I grabbed on to the gold buckle on his waist...
I held him down, with no time to waste...
I tied The Leprechaun to a hollow tree,
Broke off a branch and poked him on the knees.
I kept on poking him with a stick.
I kept nagging him to reveal his magic trick.

This little shamrock kid would not break.
He kept insisting THE LEPRECHAUN legend was fake.

This little odd dwarf kept lying about his mythical pot of gold. 
I kept repeating all the stories I've been told..  
Nagging him and nagging him~ FOR HIS POT OF GOLD!
He lied, about the fables, telling me his gold does not exist...
The Leprechaun refused to hear the clover list...


It's been 7 days!
And, still he won't give up, what's at the end of the rainbow. 
Tickling his little Eskimo toes,
Running feathers underneath his nose. 
"Look you little green treasure troll, I've captured you, and demand the gold!"
"You won't get me with your tricks!"
"So don't even try to outwit me with your silly MAGIC!" 

I suppose his silver-tongue, will have to do,
And the little gold buckles on his shoe.
I got tired of trying to make him see, my point of view.
I got a better deal and trade for a monkey at the zoo.
Now the lions are enjoying a Pot of Leprechaun Stew. 
After All! 
Nothing I did, made him unfold.
All I wanted was his pot of gold!


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2012

Details | Rhyme |
Christmas is a farce,
stick your hand up a turkeys arse.

A virgin breeding?
I guess you believe in?
Are you stupid?
It was God's kid?
No, Mary got around you fool and Joseph was really gullible.

The holy son, is a son
of a God, who made the planet in darkness
totally unaware of the sun.
Our God is not the smartest.

Science can, but not religion,
By that i mean offer an explanation......
When did we move to this planet that's round?
God made something with flat ground?

Let there be light
and a book they did write,
but no one can read,
so it's a rule book for the elite,
who take from the community
and abuse authority.
More like selfish and horribly.
Here for the community
that paid for that church and are hungry
after donating money each Sunday
leaving their stomach empty.

Talk to the saviour and say amen,
he's imaginary but you're not insane,
but insane people are friends with imaginary men
and get locked up away from those deemed sane 
and pray to a totally different imaginary ends,
it's insane to have a different imaginary friend.
Something only the imagination can comprehend,
intelligent design is all this in the end. 
Or that theory just reached its end.

He sent a sister and brother, (Adam & Eve)
who reproduced with one another, (inbred)
and their kids did, (inbred breeding inbred)
we're all related.
So we're all inbred,
and the son of God was born next to a donkey in a three sided shed.

A talking snake
it all seems fake,
part the red sea
your head must be empty.

They say he died and came back to life
I say it's all a fraudulent lie.

Watch the logic of the argument put back at me.
I think religion is married to insanity.

Noah's ark had two of each,
but what the hell did everything eat?
And they reproduced with one another,
so all life is a result of sister shagging brother.
Respect to the dodo
it said no no.

Don't get offended at my rant at Christmas,
in a week from now you won't care about Jesus.

The reason for that is religion's man made and wicked
we use God to avoid fannys and willies with kids.
We lie to keep them innocent,
and when they learn as teenagers their respect for you becomes non existent.

Such lovely children........
until they found out you lied to them.

For thousands of years it's how we raise our young,
who are dumb having fun exchanging cum.
God might have stopped this rebellion
that makes you a grandparent at 31.

Santa is fat and enslaves wingless reindeer,
So to all bah humbug..... and a Happy New Year.

Copyright © Nick Trim | Year Posted 2017

Details | ABC |
im livin in a world, where all eyes on me.
trying to curve my own route.
but route 66 keeps finding its way to me.
ive been plenty sick, in all the events layed before me.
even when i reflect to my lowest points
i dont regret any of the choices
That I’ve deployed in my era
A lot of it by error, but hey
We live in hell conditions and there ain’t no air condition 
Or any guidelines when life throws you in the sidelines
But when hindsight twenty twenty hits
You’ll begin to understand life’s a bunch of equations and you in the mix of it
An you’ll have to think twice, before running into a situation and becoming the best of it
it’s what got me here, it’s what got us here
Ran with my thoughts blazing up to her place and
Guess what happened next
She opened up heaven’s gate
And just before late I slipped out
Simply put 
I’m a Grown ass man
Doin his thing, waitin to blow up like an old land mine
In doin what he drools over
But time after time 
Something decides to creep up and cover the light
Lost my way
Then I revoked to ever know, I ever thought that way
But in the in between time, that in the mean time 
Spent a lot of time
Gettin pissed off just to medicate and lift off
Don’t need Don Perion to sip off
Already had my way with the bottle
Even thought to get back with the trouble and rejoin the hustle
That’s just what happens to a man who really knows his old ways
Whos tired of making ends meet and ponders getting back to the streets.
Memory sets in and he remembers an O.G. saying
No matter how tall your pockets stand when you ball
Eventually times gonna make you fall
And I as I pull myself together 
I don’t wanna end up like the twin towers rubble
I mean no offence to nine eleven but at that time I probably could have used a reverend
But all that’s irrelevant now
because i live with a different perspective now

there you go you made it to the end :-) comment if you like, constructive criticism wanted as well.

Copyright © pat roswell | Year Posted 2013

Details | ABC |
Funny Numbers
Lionel Derbyshire

Numb i have suffered
And by God i am done
So many characters 
Too many teachers
Tell and yell
Tried to sauce the spice
It always became ice
Now equal to zero
I am one .. not duo 
Sho go away
Want to be alone
My album is solo
Me opening my life
I know the ABC 
123 i can count
It's incredible code
I might just phone
What's the number
I am no 123456789
Out of a billion
Never one in a million
If i count on myself
Digit fidget fiddle
Twiddle twitch
Needles and pins
You get it ...
Relax 007 ?
Odd man very odd
Oustanding .. yet very old.
You get 10 out of 10.

Copyright © Lionel Derbyshire | Year Posted 2016

Details | Light Poetry |
Good old days,
Our ancestors finished wise,
Furnishing humor still to laugh at, 
Small in number but beautiful and humble,
In small,small communities like birds,
Every person had a name since birth,
But all similar,difficult to come familiar,
Confused in the usage of names,
They picked some nicknames like icing over cake,
To ease the identity signatures in case,
The nicknames kicked fading his name,
It carried reasons fit to all seasons,
Cat,one lazy,
Goat,one engaged in gossips,
Fox,one very canny,
Bull,one useful,
Rat,who steals,
Snake,who is always in anger,
Chicken,one who sells chicks,
Bear,who is in dark complexion,
The village today like a zoo!
Name men's but nicknames animals bear,
The ancestors fallen and turned into dust today,
Their master minds stand tall and still intact!

Copyright © Muhammad Safa Thajudeen | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |
  There once was a playful little boy his imagination 'Oh' how it would soar
  dreaming of nights of dragons and forts becoming the warlord of his blankets
  and cardboard.

  On a weekend day he requested to build a fort so the dragon he could slay
  all the time his little mind running into overplay.

  So being a kind mother him having no brothers or others 
  I gave him free rein not knowing his fort would look so strange.

  From room to room he ran with delight grabbing any item in sight 
  preparing for his brave and final dragon fight.

  Chairs were moved and tables were flipped even our cat would hiss and spit
  while Polly our parrot sang Oprah in the background with a nervous twitch.

  Finally, hours later and all out of breath he runs to my room his small hands
  tugging and pulling yelling for me to come see his display. 

  With a large gasp my breath had escaped, what a colorful sight I did see
  as he jumped up and down screaming whoopee!

  All my panties were hanging at the top each one a special window
  so he could see the dragon coming for him to slay all looking like a windsock.

  His choice of weapons with colors of red, black and pink were all
  of my thongs he had carefully turned into sling-shots.

  Each one holding a hard candy he had proceeded to suck on 
  so they would all stay in place and lined up ready for his offense.

  With a gentle pat on his head and a forced smile of dread into the fort we slid
  while waiting on the dragon we ate candy looking out his windows ahead. 

  T Reams 10/11/2015    Contest Sponsored by: 'Team Poetry Soup'



Copyright © TAMMY REAMS | Year Posted 2015

Details | Light Poetry |
The more the world changes, the more it stays the same.
I was just telling my 2-year-old Dragon, this the other day.
Now I have a petulant Dragon, once I had a petulant child.
They might be very different, but they are both very wild.

I used to have a neighborhood coffee clutch, coffee, black, sugar, and milk.
Now its Starbucks for a mocha late espresso and it’s WiFi, or that ilk.
I used to be a chemist, jotting in my notebook of experiments every day.
Now, it’s a fancy computer playfully typing, while in Grandpa Troll’s lair.

The only difference I seem to find, as my arthritis begins to take hold…
Is that I’ve opened up a treasure Chest where I’m Merlin becoming bold.
Pearls of wisdom I now spout to a Dragon, as my mind begins to look around.
And some times he even listens… Naw! Remember he’s like my child!

And my 10-year-old black Lab is now laughing and talking directly to me.
My hubby lent me his Trolls, so I could begin to see the world, as it must be.
But, most of it’s seen in ‘time out’, across a lake from Dragon on the opposite shore.
We don’t see eye to eye very often, as Grandpa Troll, lays down the law, for sure.

Yes, my Treasure Chest is always over flowing now, with new and different things.
It seems Dragon likes to bring them home, while gliding in on his beautiful wings.
But he’s only 2 years old, and still needs a little motherly advice… like yesterday…
He found out my name isn’t Mama after all, and Dragon tears began to flood… all away.

So, I just cuddled him gently, as I told him my real name is, for the world’s whim.
But then, only one who shines so brightly, is allowed to call me Mama, just like him.
At that moment another pearl dropped into that over flowing, treasure chest of mine.
As Dragon keeps bringing a new way of life, filled with so much brilliant sunshine.

Happiness is a choice I’ve found, that suits me to a tea, and snippets from my Hubby…
Help keep the sunshine bubbling from that treasure chest, with my royal decree.
Still, as things keep changing around me, the more they seem to stay the same.
Now, I’m not writing only for my child, it’s toward other children… I aim. 

Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |
It’s a real Texas situation
Wow, you’re one heck of a creation
I dig your hat, I love your boots
Ya’ got those bang up, country roots
When you’re strummin’ on your guitar
you’re one, red hot, country star

Ooh, wearing those, sexy, tight fittin’ jeans
you’re one lean, mean country machine
Ya got me feelin’ like a damn fool
like a silly girl in high school
Boy, I'd sure like to share your company
so, get off that bull, come ride with me

Yeah, it’s a Texas situation
cuz’ you’re one heck of a creation
I spent my money on this here hat
Tell me now, whadda’ ya’ think of that?

Come on now, I’d like to be your pretty baby
we’ll drive each other country crazy
Yeah, it’s one heck of a situation
cuz’ you’re one, red hot, Texas, born creation

Copyright © anne p. murray | Year Posted 2012

Details | Narrative |
There's an Island I know which is surrounded
by a deep, blue ocean,
filled with mermaids, Lochness monsters,
giant octopuses, and dolphins
that can talk!

Within the Island, we have folks of all kind,
who have met somehow through time....

Genghis Khan is an architect;
he's doing something different and peaceful,
rather than attacking his fellow Islanders.

Cleopatra is a great chef,
making all kinds of sea delicacies
the Nile will never know about.

Darwin is still an archaeologist;
he has dry bones hidden in his research lab;
he's convinced some Islanders may have
vampire genes in them!

Fishermen love Elvis. He sings so well
the fish jump into the nets in their hundreds.
"No Elvis, No Fishing!" is their motto.

A great number of electric eels are missing,
and no Islander knows why.... 
Tesla is secretly making electricity from marine
life without a Wildlife Warrant.

Yes, the Island is full of strange people and things
which seem normal and usual to them.

I always carry the Island with me,
like the mythical Giant Turtle.

The Island is in my thoughts....

Copyright © Teddy Kimathi | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |

The words beg, haunt incessantly push to be
heard -Dripping forth like a venom- too vile-
about to kill it's own master
Poisonous desecrator

The scream, they push-
I offered refusal and they gathered together a great 
army to slay me,
 ME! Their owner, their creator- their God!

Soulless bastards each and every one of them
No peace- not ever
Sometimes they will wake me in a cold tremor
Pushing to remember (fu**ing) with me
They then concede into dark corners waiting... 

Oh! how those bastard words love to trick me!
In conversation they allude me- just barely out of reach 
daring me- daring- as I spatter on like a fool!
Then finally when sleep decides to come-
(oh sweet sleep)-

They crowd, screaming, jumping all over my brain!
Daring me- but the body says no.
They love to scream,
those little elusive bastard words
For days and weeks I can search
behind every rock
or blade of grass

They are as free as any bird- at times 
they take to flights a fancy-
Other times they are as the wily fox- just never...
can- quite
Those bastard words never come when I call to them-
begging, crying, pleading with them- driving me to the 
ragged edges of sanity-
but those words, always around the next corner- 
or down the road

And when- finally I give up-
(I swear I heard them smirk) they 
breech the threshold - offering themselves

         Those little bastard words.

Copyright © Amy Green | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |
Hi! I want to chant why my rhyme is the best;
I have a scant five minutes—this my time really limits;
If I fail it won't be my demise—Errare humanum est;
My rhyme makes folks gawk, sometimes so much they
Cannot even talk—My rhymes surprise and blow you away!


10th April 2014
Contest: Rhyme Battle: Round Five
Sponsor: Juli-Michelle
Placing: 5th

Copyright © Ivo Cosentino | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |
Written by SaraThorp

Sids Bail Bonds
Guess who I've got in my trunk
Is this some kind of perverted inuendo
I need to speak to Sid
Sids not available right now
Last I heard he was rubbing two sticks
together and trying to start a fire
with pure rage
I'm going to get a bonus for this one
I want a bonus for getting through the week
without stabbing someone with a fork
The weeks not over yet

OMG what a scene. What dialogue.
You go girl. Your writing is on fire.
With scenes like this one.
I see why you are a shining star.
Sparkle and razzmatazzle sparring
with the boys who think by far
they are the only Hollywood running
with fans who are worshipping
their intellect with manly adoring

Screw the critics
We all forget the lines
Lose Yourself.  the song by Eminem
Go back to the trailer park
keep writing
and believe in yourself
You can do anything
you set your mind to

Copyright © Holly Bohto | Year Posted 2016

Details | Lanterne |


Goes without



Copyright © Llayn Mays | Year Posted 2016

Details | I do not know? |

The word Unique says it all to me
I chose it for my jewelry title because it was meant to be,

Call it what you want because your opinion doesn't matter
Due to my success in everything I do and I guess that makes you a mad hatter,

The proudness I feel when I create a unique piece of jewelry
People can be jealous that you seem a little bit blury,

So next time you are looking at my unique jewelry sites
Her jewelry is good due to all her face book likes.

Written By: Unique Poetry 2015

Copyright © Michelle Born | Year Posted 2015

Details | Narrative |
 The Devil Dances In Clawed Feet
         (A lively little jig too) 

I dreamed of darkness in a room round
there were in it boxes dark black.
Opening each nothing in it was found
except a worn and torn empty sack.

After the heavy lids I then closed
strange figure sat in the corner.
And there it smiled big as it posed
hat removed, it was a two horner!

Now give the devil his credit and due
for in his hand a snake appeared.
Why on earth it laughed I had no clue
I was shaken and much a'feared!

As it crawled over to my shaking feet
devil rose to dance a jolly jig.
Music played to a dark, horrific beat
and my wide eyes got saucer big.

In fear, I stomped the snake into mush
devil only laughed hard at me.
With a wicked grin and whispered hush
told me what the cost would be.

Say I was shocked, hell I was floored
his price was a dance with me.
A fine, lively jig because he was bored
only then did clawed feet I see!

Music played another lively little beat
my arm he grabbed and we danced.
While my eyes never left his clawed feet
in his delight, my how he pranced!

Finished he took himself a mighty big bow
into sacks in the boxes he leaped.
Now my mind wondered what and the how
was devil's torment next be reaped!

The boxes vanished leaving sacks of gold
there was gold coins in each sack.
Now I believe every devil story I am told
and pray -
Like hell, my dancing partner comes back!

R.J. Lindley

Note- From my private journal. I was 18 when I
wrote this one. I think I thought it quite funny.
Sept 12th, 1972

Side note-- Money all gone now but those sacks now hold

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015

Details | Quatrain |
This poem has yet to finish.
It's barely past the start.
It hasn't any followers
and isn't yet an art.

The subject is not written:
direction not quite clear.
My reason for it's being
is only what is here.

The length is getting longer
with nothing more to say.
Without a proper ending
it just might run astray.

I'll say my final thoughts
in hopes they'll bring an end.
But really; who'm I kidding,
a sequels 'round the bend.

Copyright © Trevor McLeod | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |
All About Cake-Alleya Joy Kolar March 2016

She looked at it like it was a masterpiece.
It looked as if someone had spent their lifetime on it.
A lifetime so dedicated to every absolute Crumb,
To every bite of which was about to be hers.

She looked through the window, she looked through the glass.
She thought to herself,
“I have to make it mine, I have to make it last.” 
So she grabbed her purse and every penny and all her cash.
And then she went, to put her hunger in the past.

She opened the door so effortlessly, so ready for her tastey.
She said hello to a friend waiting by the pastry. 

As she waited so eager and ready, she realized she was so anxious that she was sweaty.
The friend in front of her in the line was looking at the very same cake, and could become the beholder.

It was now the friends turn to order.
She stared closely, listened intensly.
She could hear every drop of sweat flow down her back, 
she could feel the saliva appear on every square millimeter on her tongue. 

They ordered a doughnut.
Relieved she walked forward to ask the cashier for the price of the delicate piece of marvelous-art of a cake that she had been admiring.
He answers and they exchange the amount due.

It is hers as time slows down she finds a fork and a seat to sit in as she joins paradise.
As she takes the last bite she smiles sweetly to the employee and leaves the tip under the plate. 
It was the best cake she had ever had.

Copyright © Alleya Kolar | Year Posted 2016

Details | I do not know? |
I existed before all things, as you know them and not, and will be here long after, and though I allow myself to be used by, I cannot be controlled by mankind.
The way you measure MY characteristics is only the way in which you have chosen to see ME.

I AM, Everlasting to everlasting, yet still referred to as, “The Beginning and The End.”
I AM, both Finite and Infinite.

In ME, all things are possible, without me, there are none
I forbid and allow all things.

I AM, the ever revolving channel that allows all things to change yet repeat themselves.

A winding revolution of everything and nothing, in which symbols and characters were placed upon to mark the universes greatest and even most minute’ events.

I AM, by your definition: “The indefinite continued progress of existence and events in the past, present, and future regarded as a whole.”

In Me, Knowledge found Patience and became Wisdom, the universe was created and everything within!

The definition of my name in reverse alone is proof that there is truth within the story of creation and that; it was through ME from whom the universe emanates:
-To send out from a source, (light, energy, etc...)
-To throw or give off or out (as light or heat)
-To give utterance or voice to (and GOD commanded all things to come and so they were)
I AM, Seven Days

I AM; Week, Month, Year, Decade, Century, and Millennium. 
I AM, Vast, yet also referred to as, “In A Little Bit” 

I AM, Often and Seldom, and also often thought of as, too long or too short
but seldom looked at as, Enough

My end is so long, it is the one thing everyone wants to, but can’t seem to wait until, 
yet still swears to love until

In ME all things are kept and released, yet it has been said that,
“Only I will tell”
I AM the greatest holder of secrets, yet in ME all things are revealed

It has been said that “I heal all wounds,” yet in ME, you have found both joy and mourning. 
I AM, the distance between Birth and Death.

I AM the months you were carried in the womb to the day you breathe your last breath and have recorded within myself, every memory in-between, including those that you and your loved ones have forgotten. 
Though your memories may fail, Mine will never falter. 

I AM, the calendar with a camera that has a real-live feed into the past, present, and future.

I AM, the measure of every step of life’s metronome, placing with precision, every beat, every note of the song of life and I have signed MY signatures at the beginning of life’s musical piece, before the clef and after the key signature.
I AM, The perfect song.

I existed before all things, as you know them and not, and will be here long after, and though I allow myself to be used by, I cannot be controlled by mankind. 

The way you measure MY characteristics is only the way in which you have chosen to see ME.

Who AM I?

For, I AM, none other than, TIME

Copyright © AC Benford | Year Posted 2016

Details | Light Poetry |
Anyone deserves the time of day.
Wave your hand to say hello.
Ciao, you are close.

Tongue and teeth fall out.
Your best defensiveness is to know why.
An olive branch you offer.
No amends found move onward.

You are as funny as a fruitcake.
Patty cake bakes a man.
See him in stance and measure him.
Assure that you utilize constructive criticism.
On the other hand, maybe he is just humorous.
Laugh when the fun overwhelms you.

A few antidotes and now I close.
Penned on JUNE 07, 2014!

Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |
We know we are right and we will fight
If you dare appose us we will bite
When good doers think they have a chance
We take their idea and we do the dance
We are the law that makes the choice
And no one can keep their face in a good poise
Because we will smack them with a hammer
As we see them we will make them stammer
Just because we are justice
And we try to do some odd practice
Now we will get back on track
We the people take charge and attack
Wait, what are we attacking? the people that are not right
Oh! thats just my brothers and sisters oh! they are a sight
Now look here, we, we the people makes laws
It doesn't matter how many people open their jaws
I'm all confused, we are the people, did we not choose?
We are, but certain people are just to loose

Fine, this is what the new law we want to appose
Why? because we are confused about what we chose
Using we as a word is to many
It takes all of us even granny
So this is what we want to do, is put I and you separate
And the other that we are to choose to elaborate
I am going to say this, we are to many individuals
So we separate the ones who are good doers
That does not make sense
To put all the yous and I's in a group, it's just dense
Are you with me? no I am with myself in this
I am going to rub it in your face and be in a bliss
So I will do the justice myself, and you has decide to disobey
This is what I mean to do, and it will be O.K.
Debating myself is some what kinda weird
You need to be by my side because we make choices better
So this time you and I will just make justice a letter

The clue is what we do that is some what true
It's funny when words play a game to argue the virtue
When I mean I, I mean I, and when I say you, it is you
When I say we, it is us, and that is what my argument is all about, too.
Fifty, fifty is what the Dragon Slayer is saying, it becomes no greater nor smaller
We are all at fault and our decisions that we have made is for all of us to stand taller
Even when it is wrong and we do things to put down the strong
And our arguments become pointless and long
Our justice is when we started to put it on paper and making it a law that stand
So all of us, in the long run will simply decide to band

Copyright © Reynaldo Mast | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
As our civilisation reaches new heights
We can be proud of our achievements
As we enter a new golden age

Survivors of the second penicillium war
We harnessed our knowledge
And struck out
To all corners of our world
Only to find none
But confirmed our world was flat
Encircled by a glass wall
A dish
Disproving the world sphere theory
Despite the "globe worlder's" stubborn claims

Is the sky bound by glass?
Under the constant light
Or is it open to the firmament?
Can we fly to the heavens?
Can we leave our world?
Are there other dishes out there?
Is there alien life on these alien worlds?
Or are we alone in the universe?

We are the chosen
The dominant bacterial species
Over the viruses, amoebas and prions
Set apart and raised above
Did we evolve from simpler forms?
As our scholars say
Or is there an all powerful designer?
Who loves us all
Were we made in his image?
Are we part of his plan?

Or is our culture just an experiment
Performed by an race of beings
Incomprehensible to us
Indifferent to us

But no-one really believes that

Entry to "poetry in an animal's view" contest

Written 29th January 2017

Copyright © Mark Martin | Year Posted 2017

Details | Burlesque |
        Work, work, work, work, work
                       Work, work, work, wor, wor
                                    Wor, wor, wor, wor, wor, wo
                                                   Wo, wo, wo, wo, woe is us.

The irony of the fall of man: 

Them yielding to Eden’s free and tempting fruit,
Now cursed us to labor for our fruit. 

They should’ve had a hamburger.

Copyright © PoetPrentice Dupins | Year Posted 2017

Details | Rhyme |
Being the panicky insecure confused beings that we are, we tend to try to make sense of that which is senseless by inventing nonsense. 
Such stories on scales of grandiose that there is no way to argue yes or no.
Here is how part of one of those stories in laymen's terms go.........

A man who obviously forgot to shave was just lounging about the clouds one day when out out of the blue he exclaimed " I know what to do. I will use my divinity to create little versions of me, and I will place them in a garden to indulge in all they see. All of course except my precious apple tree."

Looking to his left hand man he further elaborated on his master plan.

" For those who refuse to obey me, sinners they will be. I will cast them into burning pits I will call hell for all eternity. Lets go and get started my dearest friend, I promise this will be fun. You will never forget the day humanity begun."

Copyright © Ashley Dibble | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme |
Dear Boss,
If you have found this note in my empty chair,
Then you know I abandoned my post,
I do appreciate my job but it feels unfair,
that I'm working while you are off (playing golf),
I promise to return by a solemn swear,
on Monday when it reverts back to being cold,
And my body doesn't feel like it will explode
Because I'm in here
....and it's seventy degrees out there!
Your Worker

Copyright © Kim Bond | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |
love walks into a bar
sees hope drinkin' it away;
what's wrong, love asks
nothing's wrong, hope replies, 
nothing is wrong...

love turns to fate the bartender
and orders two shots of everything.

Copyright © A.O. Taner | Year Posted 2017

Details | Prose Poetry |
Early dawn in rainy days,
 your song warms us all.
 But Crow once said from her nest, 
 O' cuckoo! You are cleverst of all;
 I am upset by the games you play;
 Lay your eggs in my nest, 
 and disappear at once, 
 with no sign of theft;
 misdeed not ends here, 
 kills all my eggs when hatched;
 Yet world loves you and says, 
 you are prettiest among of all;
 Your sweetest tongue, 
 displays not what inside you are;
 Does this imply sweet speakers,
 sometimes poisonous inside?
 With sweetest voice captivate, 
 For use then throw;
 as bagasse is thrown after extracting juice;
 You should be sweet not cunning inside,
 Sweet tongue is slogan of world,
 a lessson to all learn and behave...
 O' cuckoo! song you sing is sweetest of all...
 But not clean from inside...

© Sadashivan Nair

Copyright © sadashivan nair | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |
Sitting on the bus and I'm in a hurry
So I'm going to quickly write 10 minutes of fury
The bipolar mad man with a weapon in hand
A pen full of ink, so you can't beat the man
Never had writers block, I trapped my mind inside the pen
I'm just trying to provide a good body of work, my pain provides the skin
Even if I fall I know I'll rise again
I'm too prideful to quit
Was suicidal but lived 
Grabbed depression by the throat and choked it out
Began to understand my pain and spoke it out
Came up with rhymes and wrote it out
Prove everyone wrong that chose to doubt 
Never been the type to beg for help
Can do it alone, I don't need another
Been forced to bleed and suffer
I take responsibility for everything I said myself
I'm a genius who's said a few dumb things
Learning from mistakes is how a man becomes king 
The throne was mine for the taking
My rhymes cause an earthquake, so right now there minds will be shaking
It's about the rhyme and the placement
The timing and story being told
Improving as a poet, finding glory and control 
Writing to a good level and being consistent
I just hope my words are good enough to get the world to listen
I speak from my heart so my poems are genuine
But I'll never write as good as my idol Eminem
I've got a lot more to write so there's no need to worry
This was just a quick 10 minutes of fury 

Copyright © Alex Duffy | Year Posted 2017

Details | Rhyme |
Someone said to me 1% rule the world,
I refused to believe and insults they hurled.
Why get personal,
because I reject the ideal?
If you believe it, then use this time to talk facts,
insults suggest you have nothing to add that can have an impact,
no stats or statistics
that are realistic.

They say I'm not meant to understand Lucifer or the Illuminati.
I got news for ya, in general they tend to understand less than me,
inferior intellectually,
I let them have this victory,
out of sympathy,
it's nice really,
they think they have an understanding that I can't see.

Why do I reject the 1% rule theory?
It's simple, I'm not ignorant mathematically.

You see,
the 1% you believe,
is not a small minority,
1 is small and can deceive.

However I can't comprehend how an organization of 70 million,
can operate productively without a difference of opinion?
How can all benefit,
and at meetings where does everyone sit?
How can all be trusted to keep it secret?
How does recruitment work and how do they induct? 

Worldwide, 1% is the amount of people to have a high level of education.
1% would be the worlds 20th most populated nation.
Bigger than Great Britain or France,
things like this make me reject your stance.

What circumstances would see 70 million decide and reach an outcome?
33 million was split in to 17 million and 16 million in the Brexit referendum.
How can you see 70 million agreeing often?
Brexit was one question, with two answers and no other option,
I'm sorry but I don't agree with the theory you opt for. It's just not possible.

1% don't rule,
they are highly educated with an element of control,
but that's just evolution after all,
just like the pack behind the alpha male.

So if you blindly believe these theories,
can I suggest you find some hobbies.

Use facts don't hurl insults, 
get personal and you won't like the result,
worst of all it'll be your fault,
because you were rude and did not accept my thoughts.

70 million is 1 percent and that number is not small,
so to round up the whole theory is bull....

Copyright © Nick Trim | Year Posted 2017

Details | Free verse |
Creative Child

Parents beware
Let your child be creative
Let them express themselves
But know one thing
If they are painting a flower
And they have use of the paints
If they are left alone for even a moment
They will paint the floor
They will paint the tables
They will paint the walls
And they will paint the chairs
They will make themselves
Every color of the rainbow
As well as some new ones
But nowhere in the room
Nor in the universe will you ever find a flower
Being the great parent, you are
You will tell the child how great it is
And you will clean and dread the next time
When your child gets creative

Copyright © R. e. taylor | Year Posted 2017

Details | Blank verse |
A humorku is a short rhyming poem, less than 14 lines, that showcases human efforts at thinking. Thinking has many types and stimuli, including the Big Lie. Without much ado, here is my HUMORKU:

If white is supreme, why do humans (who prefer cream)
mix chocolate in white milk? (even if only in a dream)
Because brown has body - that will make milk scream

Copyright © Anil Deo | Year Posted 2017