Death Humorous Poems

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

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Details | Free verse |
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

Details | Narrative |
A Short Afternoon Tea With Death And The Devil

Noonday tea with Death, the Devil was at his side
words never on the level, lies of sin and pride
Death spoke first, while Devil sat with that evil smile
saying, come boy lets us chat for a little while.
With my strongest guard up, I replied, so we shall
but know this first, you will not ever be my pal
Death laughing out loud said this, boy your time will come
I am powerful, mortals are shallow and dumb
You walk your paths, with lusts and pure greed in your eyes
while my father the Devil, feeds you sweetest lies
As mortal hearts and souls turn black we laugh out loud
billions we have destroyed, we are rightly so proud
So boy, come hither let us now truly embrace
journeying with me will be joy, not a disgrace!

Next Devil spoke and gave me that long wicked grin
men are easy, I offer just a little sin
Now boy, shake my hand and let us be firmest friends
I'll reward you as well as your future portends
You'll feast in paradise, gold will be your best friend
we will do it all, breaking what will not just bend
Swear oath to me and have all you ever desire
man's life is short, for very soon you will expire
Walk in my shadow, embracing its darkest glows
I'll line you up soft beauties in hundreds of rows
Your life will be fulfilled, wealth coming with such ease
all you have to do, is any damn thing you please
Allow me one long kiss and you can have it all
do so now and you can stride down my palace halls!

O' what dark bounty and promise was offered me
fearful my spirit and heart both cried out to flee
Strangely my feet refused to race out and away
for courage came and showed me clever game to play
Seeing Death and Devil both were such bosom friends
I wanted to see which one breaks and which one bends
I asked Devil, if for my soul he'd Death deny
finding his task pleasurable, not tell him why
Eager for my soul, he replied with a quick yes
at that, Death's reaction was not even a guess
In blink of an eye they began to fiercely fight
O' what a fine and glorious ravishing sight
Neither could gain the upper hand and both had failed
I walked away laughing, O' my how they wailed!

R.J. Lindley
Rhyme, (Humorous Narrative Tale)

Composed March 22 1971
edited today, 1-07-2018

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2018

Details | Rhyme |
I was strolling through Evergreen Cemetery the other day,
Glancing at epitaphs etched upon various stones along the way.
Some flowing verse was out of this world but I can only assume,
That the authors were forthcoming in how they met their doom!

"Should an inconsiderate bird upon my stone alight,
Please do me a favor and remove the blight!"

"Here reposes a dude who tried to rob a lady teller,
But she was a keener shot than this unlucky feller!"

"Here sleeps ace pilot Captain Cletus Cole;
His wings were clipped attempting a barrel roll!"

"Here reclines butcher Clyde who cheated on his wife.
Unknown to him she was also adept at wielding a butcher knife!"

"Here lies Hank his mortal shell riddled with lead.
He was nabbed rustlin' steers and the sheriff shot him dead!"

"Here is deposited the corpus of Eddie a top-notch baker.
He is now serving assorted donuts to his beloved Maker!"

"Please relay your regards as by this way you pass,
But for heavens sake, keep off the cottin' pickin' grass!"

"On a banana peel the dear departed slipped and fell.
We pray he landed in paradise and not in hell!"

"He didn't know his Volkswagen had all that power.
He met his doom head-on doing 90 miles per hour!"

"Fer nigh on 40 years old Hank rode this earthly range;
Now he rides in that final roundup on that heavenly grange!"

"Gambler Jim has left very few friends behind to grieve;
He was caught with a couple of aces up his sleeve!"

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2015 All Rights Reserved

Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |
I shiver at the thought of being attacked by owls,
My home infested by Carols' pesky trolls,
A fire breathing dragon,flying around in the lobby,
Or a hand crawling around searching for it's body,
A hunchback with six eyes in his head,
Or zombies walking around calling themselves,the living dead,,,

I am scared of bats,turning into vampires,
Gorgons hopping around,throwing balls of fire,
Werewolves with scars,Chuckies with stitches,
And that big hairy bump on the nose of witches,
Blood running from the nozzle when I turn on the faucet,
Or skeletons and the Boogieman playing cards in the closet,,,

Right now i'm in a dark,dark room,hiding under the bed,
Features of my face growing taller,changing the shape
of my head,
Fingernails becoming fangs,eyes turning red,
GRRRR!!!it's HOLLOWEEN again,a night of feast
for the rising dead,,,


Copyright © Richard Palmer | Year Posted 2014

Details | Limerick |

                                  There once was a man named Ed.
                                  A mortician with a heart of lead.
                                  He burned every casket,
                                  whether or not they asked it,
                                  in order to make sure they were dead.

                                  One day his fire wouldn't light.
                                  His backlog was a helluva sight.
                                  In order to flourish,
                                  he got amateurish,
                                  and buried them all out of spite.

                                         Written:  11/4/16

Copyright © Richard Olson | Year Posted 2016

Details | Quatrain |
Soldiers marched, upright and ready
Bayonet's pointed, their hand at the steady
The town folk feared what was at hand
They were simple folks, working the land

The soldiers carted away those who could work
On trains they went, when finished, into the earth
Others though not in working order
Faced a certain death, in weather getting colder

Hey you in the wheel chair?
What's your name?
Darren Sir, I am a poet of fame
Well lad, follow me, is your end game

Hey you who hobbles along?
What's your name?
Seren Sir, I am a painter of fame
Wee lady, soon you shall be one dead dame

Hey you, walking in your dreams?
What's your name?
Arthur sir, a man who now is lame
Get in line with the others the soldier proclaimed

Off we went to the edge of the town
Each with fear in our hearts and eyes piercing like darts
We knew the fate that had landed us together
A poet , an Artist and a dead philosopher

The firing squad you see, cared not our valor
We three were blindfolded and tied up to large trees
As the rifles were loaded and the orders given
A voice from the heavens said they wont be forgiven

The lieutenant in his fancy dress uniform
Yelled out, at the ready, the bullets soon to storm
A silence filled the void, but only for a moment
Fire he said, as three dead villagers fell, lives stolen

Darren, Seren, and Arthur, ended up in heaven, where  every day, they lived in a beautiful garden, with not only beautiful flowers, but an open bar, and all you can eat buffet, Darren now runs free. Seren now has 2 new knees, every month, for eternity, and happily runs Marathons along with Darren. Arthur sits at the bar in the garden, while sipping his rum and cokes, absolutely amazed, as he chats with the bar tender, Tim Smith.

Notes: This was inspired by Serens comments from PoetrySoupChat in which she said, they should shoot us both, dues to the recent pain and suffering. ( she had a knee operation ) Darren has gone through multiple operations recently, and I am amazed at this strength and positive attitude towards others even in his darkest moments. 

There is no good suffering, whether it be physical, emotional, depression, and the only thing I can think of is to laugh, as laughter at least brings smiles and maybe a wee bit of solace. I mentioned Tim, because he too recently went through knee surgery, so he knows the pain, I simply could not kill him in this poem, as then who would be the bartender?

This made people smile, that's all the counts for me, and I wish to assure you no poets here actually shot in the making of this poem!

I hope the music, represents in a more serious way, the suffering of pain, in any way it should manifest itself.

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2017

Details | Rhyme |
Heavenly bliss

Shawn and Shauna fell deeply in love
And were on their way to be wed
When a car, on that day, took their lives straight away
As both of their bodies, lie dead

But their spirits were both drawn to heaven
As they stood, in front of the gates
Saint Peter was there, at the top of the stairs
When Shawn hollered loudly  “Just Wait"

Now Peter looked puzzled, at Shawn
And said "This is no time to tarry "
Shawn spoke again, and refused to go in
Without being properly married

Saint Peter replied very softly 
"We don't do that kind of thing here
But if you're willing to wait, 
“I’ll see if I can, get it cleared”

Three months went by, while they waited
Saint Peter, show up with a Priest
"I know it was slow, But I want you to know
You’ll be married Forever at least"

As the wedding was getting started
Shawn asked a question, with doubt
What happens here in heaven  
“If this marriage just doesn’t work out”

A silent filled up the heavens
Saint Peter, was shaking his head
And once he regained his composure
This is what Saint Peter said
“It took Three Months to find a Priest
In this Heavenly Foyer
How long do you think, I’ll take for me
Up here, to find you a Lawyer ?”

Copyright © Jerry T Curtis | Year Posted 2014

Details | Narrative |
This aspect is succinctly told by, W.Somerset Maugham from an Arab tale:

The speaker is Death:

There was a merchant in Baghdad who sent his servant to market to buy provisions and in a little while the servant came back, white and trembling, and said, "Master, just now when I was in the market-place I was jostled by a woman in the crowd and when I turned I saw Death had jostled me. She looked at me and made a threatening gesture; now, lend me your horse, and I will ride away from this city and avoid my fate. I will go to Samarra and there Death will not find me". The merchant lent him his horse, and the servant mounted it, and he dug his spurs in its flanks and as fast as the horse could gallop he went. Then the merchant went down to the market-place and he saw me standing in the crowd and he came to me and said, "Why did you make a threatening gesture to my servant when you saw him this morning?" "That was not a threatening gesture," I said, "It was only a state of surprise. I was astonished to see him in Baghdad, for I had an appointment with him tonight in Samarra".

(A far older version forms part of the Babylonian Talmud)

Copyright © White Wolf | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |
Is it that time?
my time to go.
do you have a warrant?
wait a while,
till the rain dials down.
Not want to ruin the suit,
need to look my best.
When I meet the under lord,
need to appear my best.
Not want to spend
my afterlife drenched.
if not
can I dry myself 
at the furnace of the hell.
what if?
I go to heaven,
can I pack 
a change of clothes?
Nothing fancy,
long robe and a halo,
may be a scarf too.
let me pack some sausages,
for the long journey ahead.
you seem clueless,
let me talk to your superior,
what is the country code? 
Is it alpha and omega?
no! they put me on hold
to a hold tone,
"Hang it up and see what tomorrow brings."

Copyright © ravi kiran | Year Posted 2015

Details | Limerick |
The Darwin Awards are a posthumous honor, recognizing those who have improved the human gene pool by removing themselves from it by their own foolish actions.

In a robbery way out in Long Beach
Elliot's handgun misfired in the breech
    Down the barrel he took
    A quite scatterbrained look
Then made it more than a figure of speech

There was a foolish fellow named Gary
Who gulped gasoline over near Cary
    The fuel made him gag
    So he fired up a fag
And now smokes in the state mortuary

"Look, no helmet!" Phil proudly decried
In the headgear disobedience ride
    He stood for his rights
    Then put out his lights
When he flew off his Electra Glide

An impatient Korean got miffed
And was ramming the doors of the lift
    Then went a bit daft
    When he got the shaft
But his ride to the bottom was swift


Copyright © Roy Jerden | Year Posted 2014

Details | Verse |
Globally, miners jubilantly jump for joy
Smiles on the faces of every girl and boy
The grins of a newly opened Xmas toy
Thatcher’s dead.

Trade unionists bounce along the street
Music blaring and the tapping of feet
From nurses to Bobbies still on the beat
Thatcher’s dead.

Street parties announced in the nation
Satan who brought economic inflation
Is deceased, now’s the time for elation
Thatcher’s dead.

Its times like this I’m sad I’m an atheist
And can only shout and wave my fist
And then go to the pub and get pissed
Thatcher’s dead.

Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013

Details | Light Poetry |
Everyone has a theory on what killed out all the great big Dinosaurs.
I’m the only one who knows, what happened, that stopped their roars.
It’s just a little common sense, to figure out what it was, I conclude.
You see, all those big Dinosaurs were eating up tons of yummy food.

And you must surely know that, what goes in, has to come out, too.
Yep, you’re beginning to get my drift, as it was caused by dino-poop.
I’ll admit, dragon gave me the idea, as I daily continue to pooper scoop.
But there’s a difference between then and now, for volume was the oops.

Man! Those were voracious BIG eating machines… You begin to see?
The black layer, found in the ground, all over the world, was completely…  
Made of ashed, Dino-poop! You see? The world was covered, miles deep…
In the building dino-poop, they say, there’s also, methane there, in heaps. 

So where did it come from? Yep you guessed it, again… Dino-poop.
It came out of the dino- poop, while being squished into fields of oil.
And why do you think, it was a comet, came in and blew them all away?
All it took was a streak of lightening in the pollution of the air, one day.

Yep, one little spark ignited… to get rid of the old, and in with the new.
Methane is highly explosive, and nitroglycerine, comes from poop, too.
You see, no one destroyed them, they did it all to themselves! Ya think?
Why are there still dragons? Because fire doesn’t bother them, so rethink!

Explosions couldn’t get to them, since they don’t poop inside their big caves.
Yep, Dragons were the very first, ecology minded living things, of that day. 
That’s why…Dragons are on Chinese calendars and not dinosaurs today.
So that’s why Dragons are smug, self-centered and expect to be obeyed.

Because they’re the only ones, my dear, who knew what was coming, there.
Still, they tried to warn all the dinosaurs, which refused to listen, anywhere.
So they retreated into their caves, for a long nuclear winter of restful sleep.
Grandpa Troll confirmed it, for he slept there, with Dragons, in caverns deep.

Now I ask you, would you go into a cave of dragons, as your ancestors did do?
Or would you be one of the oblivious, who back then… didn’t have a clue?

2-11-2015 Dragon says potty humor rocks!

Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |
Today I am going to hop my way to my brother.
To tell him how I feel about not being together.
I thought I could be so kind.
I saw him by the road side and I was blind.
I could just end it all by now.
Today I tried a cow.
It really was hard to do.
Then I hired a semi crew.
I watched carefully, darn he is fast!
My name is Happy ?, I'm Easter's brother who is sad.
He painted eggs that made me jealous and bad.
I hopped one day and he threw an egg at me.
My heart became really cold that memory was key.
I finally thought of it an accident really is going to happen.
Happy Easter is going to be laugh-en.
Good to see you, I said to a mystery man.
I was told not to associate with any human.
It was my last resort.
The man had a sports car a beautiful sort.
I was desperate, now, I'm in a bunny court.

Copyright © Reynaldo Mast | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
Ossenburger, the business genius, 
when he graduated from college, 
he started a budget mortuary service.

Five dollars a corpse!
He was the Wal-Mart of death.
Burry ‘em, burn ‘em, float ‘em down the river, 
get ‘em by the gross like a bag-o-chicken wings.
Bodies stacked like cord wood rotting beneath an eve, 
he had a secret process for sorting, storing, and disposal.
He hoarded the cadavers like a squirrel hoards its nuts, 
buried and forgotten, 
never wondering where they’ll pop up.

Dough rolling in from all the strapped families, 
Ossenburger was the drug lord of putrefied flesh.
While puddles of fat caramelized within the soil, 
he donated excess funds to his fondly held private school.
He wrote off all his charity, 
he hoarded up the dough, 
with more babies born daily, 
he kept profits up with our death toll.
Pencey held him in architectural esteem.
For all his generosity 
they used his name 
for their new wing.

Tell us Ossenburger about your fancy car, 
how you dream of stiffs between each shift 
and Jesus ignores our prayers to say how lucky you are.

Our only bit of justice, some smidge, 
some smear of slight relief, 
is hearing Marsalla’s flatulence 
during your puffed up prep school speech.

Copyright © Graphite Drug | Year Posted 2017

Details | Limerick |

When Lizzie (Borden) saw what she's done
Thought to herself that was so much fun
So she whack them again
And again and again
Then laughed aloud at what she's done!

Dorian Petersen Potter
Aka ladydp2000


Copyright © Dorian Petersen Potter | Year Posted 2014

Details | Dramatic Verse |
Walk before you speak.
Lend your voice that seek.
Foot forward and back.
So will that be a fact.
Gone by and be well.
Trip up and put into a cell.
Got no one to talk to.
I want a phone call to sue.
When I wake from my slumber.
I wish not to be hit by lumber.
Going to become a dreamer.
I hope that I do not become a screamer.
I got new shoes.
With colorful strings that are loose.
I am slow on tying them.
I feel they are harder than stem.
String are not new.
They smell pew.
I walk once again to journey.
That means I need some money.
Trip up again with meaningless acts.
Walking with out trust that lacks.
Shamefulness I speak.
I go behind a tree to leak.
I have no home set in stone.
Wheeling and dealing always alone.
Since I was a child that was left on the street.
I became a street beat.
Strolling with confidence to day.
Making my way.
Some law men stop me.
I was so out of it that they can see.
They thought I was on drugs.
I was really itching bugs.
Stumbling because I have not eaten.
So they grab me and I got beaten.
They finally found me innocent.
So I told them to get bent.
I was a good citizen with high hopes.
The society today thinks I am on dopes.
Can I be help with no pain.
Will they put me some were I will gain.
So I was put into a helpful place.
I was then able to eat and say grace.
Some crazy person came in and started shooting. 
So people ran and started looting.
Cannot get away from bad luck.
Sure enough I feel so stuck.
Knowing that I was fleeing.
I became worth not seeing.
I lay there my time just feeling has pass.
Losing my mind and running out of gas.
Finally I hear a person the sound sounds so weak.
A life time that I wanted to seek.
Found myself in a bed.
Down to nothing I was shed.
A person with white clothes that said your in luck.
You survived and now you owe some buck.
So sad not really glad.
Bad thing was the kid that was shooting was my lad.
Time really passes I just want to walk.
To see my kid to talk.
Why did he do what he did.
Dad he said I was starving and I am a kid.
So I have turn to a life time of crime.
Dad do not give me your time.
Because when we talked long ago.
You just left home with all the doe.
Hope you have a good life.
Because mom had been a good wife.
Now it is your turn.
So you can walk into the fire and burn.
With out a doubt you will walk away.
Trip on and Trip up and you will never pay.
Now dad keep your love.
Because I seek my mother above.
You will be chain.
Down you go insane.

Copyright © Reynaldo Mast | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme royal |
Lord, don't let me die on the toilet,
I would much rather die on a bus.

As the thought of me sat with my pants down, 
drives me mad just to think of the fuss.

But the thought of me off while I'm sleeping, 
seems a much more acceptable plan.

Though I'll have to start wearing pajamas 
and be a much more presentable man.


Copyright © Dennis East | Year Posted 2015

Details | Epitaph |
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 | Rhyme |
When you're hurt inside,
And there's no where to hide,
And there's no one on your side,
And it's killing your pride,
Never take hate outside,

When your heart is chocking,
The heavy words never spoken,
The things that hurt you inside,
When love has died,
Never take hate outside,

When your heart is gone,
From being alone,
And it beats a solemn tone,

When you're cold inside,
It's only a short ride,
Never take hate outside

Copyright © Anthony Scandrick II | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
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 | Ode |

(With apologies to Johnny 

My name is Alfred Garnett,
and I'm married to a silly 
'Every time I come home
from work - she tells me
what to do!'

I am a Tory supporter - 
well, someone has to be - 
I keep on praising Ted
Heath - he lived at bleak
house for free!

I work very hard every
day - and I have a little
And when I was told to
work a three day week - 
oh, I really did have a

I like to smoke my pipe
a lot - but the tobacco
costs too much - 
It is my only pleasure -
the sex is out of touch!!

We now have a new 
home help - his name 
is Marigold Winston - 
But because he's like 
a woman - I call it 
bloody treason!

He prances about in a
pinny - and he talks
in an African dialect - 
Why did the bloody 
council pick him? Could
they not be a bit more 

Now I call him Marigold - 
he's always prancing
He really is an eyesore - 
he always has to shout! 

But he does know his
place - he loves his
kitchen duties,
He cooks and cleans
like a demented queen - 
and he cleans my dirty

My wife, Else, God Bless
her soul - is up in 
heaven now,
But the DHSS stopped
her pension - she's left
me skint - the cow!

I've called the social
services - they are no
bloody good,
They act just like the
DHSS - they don't pay
me like they should!   

My name is Alfred 
Garnett - and I often
have a beer - 
It is my only pleasure - 
now I've lost my, Elsie'

People say I'm a racist - 
and a bigot, and a 
I think they've got the
wrong person - some
said I was their saviour!!!!

I love to watch West Ham - 
(up the hammers) - and 
watch it all for nothing;
'I even used a wheelchair - 
while the stewards weren't

I want to say goodbye 
to you - and I thank you
for being true,
Oh, how I miss my Elsie - 
that bloody silly moo!!    


Copyright © Darryl Ashton | Year Posted 2015

Details | Couplet |
Burying dead bodies usually takes place  
In fancy holes dug on some land space.

Most people dig those holes somewhere nice
But sometimes they don’t have a choice.

Some people burn dead bodies to ashes
And this really saves on available land spaces.

Sometimes dead bodies are buried at sea
And slowly sink into muck for eternity.

Other fancy holes are dug large enough,
For the removal of some valuable stuff.

Sometimes these holes are dug somewhere nice
And most times people don’t have a choice.

When all the valuable stuff’s gone offshore
The hole is back-filled and land space restored.

Today we can dig holes in the seafloor
Right through the eternal muck and more.

Holes should be dug to bury the dead 
And to remove valuable stuff instead.

Copyright © Michael Dom | Year Posted 2013

Details | Haibun |
"OK, I'll try it," I say.
It's just an idea," she said. "Why does there have to be a point?"
"What's the point?" I'd asked.
"I dunno," she says. "Maybe a cat dies. Or, write a fantasy."
"About what?" I ask.
"Why don't you just write any, old story," she says, "and tell it backwards?"
"You mean like going around a storywheel?"
"Or a ball," my wife says.

Like a bouncing wheel?
Story reincarnated --
Up, down, round, no end.

Round and round it goes,
Whether you live or you die --
No big difference.

"What difference does it make?" I sigh.
"You'd better tell folks how to read it," says my wife, who always underestimates people.
"Alright then, let's get this story started."

Written Nov. 9, 2015.
Copyright (c) 2015 by 2815699 Canada Inc.

Copyright © Doug Long | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |
As I sit here and wonder what went wrong,
I realized, nothing went wrong.
People say it was your time to leave this world,
to go and see your savior, your God.
But really, everyone knows it was your Johnny boy, the Fisherman.
He couldn't spend another second without you.
His beautiful lover, the wonderful mother, the amazing grandmother.

As I sit here and wonder about what you're doing,
I imagine you two dancing and singing with your buddies from Bailo's.
I imagine you watching over your family and leading them in the right direction.
I could almost see you sitting on the bleachers for my high school graduation,
and I started to tear up knowing you were there watching.

As I sit here and wonder about you,
I know you miss us just as much as we miss you.
Ryan and Jackie will never know how kind and gentle you were, like a summer breeze.
Bella will never know how generous and humorous you were, making everyone laugh.
But I will know, and I will tell them, even if it is with tears in my eyes.

As I sit here and wonder about my future,
I think of you. 
You always knew I was going to be a successful person.
And I always believed you.

my number one role model. My favorite grandmother.
My best friend.

RIP Roberta J. Kobstad 
You will be forever missed.

Copyright © Jeanette Castiglione | Year Posted 2012

Details | Dramatic Verse |
She was married to a squirrel named Earl.
And Earl was later buried along side her
grave.She wore a mud pack upon her face.
To cover up all the horrifying disgrace.
And when she walked across the town.A
tractor trailer ran her down.And now she
rest in peace.Along side her husband Earl,
who died the same day of a rare disease.
Breakfest in bed,for the Duke of Earl,who
was a squirrel,and whos mother's true
name was Pearl."Earl was a squirrel" ,she
repeatably said,and long before she was
hit in the head.By a humongous tractor
trailer truck.Just a dented up fender,and
a cremation certificate.For the old lady
under the hill.You can talk about life,and
you can talk about death.But life was
nothing more than a thrill.For the old lady
under the hill..

Humorous Death Story Poetry By Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 2010.2016..All rights reserved

Copyright © Kim Robin Edwards | Year Posted 2016

Details | Verse |
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 | Rhyme |
An “Angel of the Odd” curiosity provokes
The Angel of Death is more welcome than he
Wine bottles in a keg?  What is it this angel smokes?
“The narrator’s house,” says Poe with wicked glee

Things are never as they seem in Poe’s fantasy
Much as in life, we trade one monster for the next
And for unlucky blokes, there’s no amnesty
So listen for Poe’s laugh when you feel vexed

Oddities abound in a world with no rules
Poe has no patience for “sensible” solutions
An angel he creates to make men seem fools
Perhaps you’re next in line for this angel’s executions

Who would be so brazen as to poke fun at Poe?
Even as Poe toys with your sanity
You may find yourself fleeing the Kraken in a hoe
Only to be swallowed by a fierce manatee

*Written February 15, 2014 for Craig Cornish’s “Angel of the Odd” contest

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2014

Details | Couplet |
An aspiring marine 
is assuredly green, 
but he's not as much green 
as a drowned marine.

Volodymyr Knyr

Copyright © Volodymyr Knyr | Year Posted 2014

Details | Dramatic monologue |
i have crafted and shafted and then re positioned
divulged and indulged to precise disposition 
yet frankly my points are most blunt at the end and my walls tend to fall at the slightest of bends
be it not such a bridge but a try at amends, with a friend who is quite hard of hearing
come step in my cauldron both women and children, these are the crimes i admit to both willinging and wildered
For i am the poet of pilgrims ,
what was left has been pillaged and raped, and only i who had managed escape
have been left to rebuild from the timbers

Copyright © chriss todd | Year Posted 2013

Details | Couplet |
The other day I saw the most pathetic thing I think I shall ever see!
It was so macabre and shocking that it piqued my curiosity!

Seems this old miser died having atoned for his many transgressions,
But was adamant about taking with him all his earthly possessions!

He had derided that well-known saw, "you can't take it with you",
And asserted, "Them's my things that took a lifetime to accrue!"

Even on his deathbed as he breathed his last and ceased to function,
He fretted about his stuff as the priest administered extreme unction!

In the funeral procession behind the hearse was a huge U-Haul truck,
Containing his suits and shoes, booze and gold plus all his other ruck!

Oft' I've pondered about that old tightwad and his ultimate fate,
And how St Peter handled the matter when he greeted him at the Gate!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved

Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw | Year Posted 2013