Poetry Forum Areas

Introduce Yourself

New to PoetrySoup? Introduce yourself here. Tell us something about yourself.

Looking for a Poem

Can't find a poem you've read before? Looking for a poem for a special person or an occasion? Ask other member for help.

Writing Poetry

Ways to improve your poetry. Post your techniques, tips, and creative ideas how to write better.

High Critique

For poets who want unrestricted constructive criticism. This is NOT a vanity workshop. If you do not want your poem seriously critiqued, do not post here. Constructive criticism only. PLEASE Only Post One Poem a Day!!!

How do I...?

Ask PoetrySoup Members how to do something or find something on PoetrySoup.

You have an ad blocker! We understand, but...

PoetrySoup is a small privately owned website. Our means of support comes from advertising revenue. We want to keep PoetrySoup alive, make it better, and keep it free. Please support us by disabling your ad blocker on PoetrySoup. See how to enable ads while keeping your ad blocker active. Also, did you know you can become a PoetrySoup Lifetime Premium Member and block ads forever...while getting many more great features. Take a look! Thank you!

Illness Funny Poems | Illness Poems About Funny

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

If you don't find the poem you want here, try our incredible, super duper, all-knowing, advanced poem search engine.

Details | Free verse |

Ode to coffee

Ode to coffee

Mistress of sacred love
Sacred lady of desire

You start my day
Setting my heart on fire
With your dark delicious {brew} (flavor)

And throughout the day
Whenever the mean old blues come by
You chase them away
With your bitter {sweat} (sweet?) ambrosia{l brew}

Every time I inhale your {witches brew} (witch's brew)
I am filled with power, light and love
And everything is al right Jack
If only for a few fleeting minutes

I love you oh coffee goddess
In all your magical forms

In the dark coffee of the dawning day
In the sizzling coffee in the mid morning break
In the afternoon siesta break
And in the post dinner desert drink

I love you my coffee mistress
You are my refuge
From this horrid world

And you are my secret lover
Never disappoint me, ever
I've never had a bad cup
Of that I can be sure

Even the dismal coffee 
Served at Denny's at 3 am
Is still sweat loving coffee

Even the farmer brother's diner coffee
Excites me and gets me going
Asking for another cup of divine delight

Coffee always is there
It is always on and piping hot
With hidden dark secrets
Swirling in its liquid essence

Coffee is my last vice
My only legal vice left

Coffee does not cheat on me
It is always faithful, always true
It does not turn on its friends

And all it asks in return
Is that you come back
Cup after cup after cup

A good cup of coffee
Is a little bit of heaven
In a cup of dark liquid hell

Coffee is like a drug 
But a good drug that does what is should
And never complains 

It does not get grouchy
It does not hurt you

It does not make you crazy
But allows the muse to come out 
And play with it

Coffee led to the American Revolution
As patriots drank coffee
To rebel against the aristrocratic English tea 

Coffee started the London Stock market
And started the gossips mills running

Every great invention
Was fed by coffee's {sweat brew} (sweet alure)

All the great thinkers
All the great leaders
All were enslaved to coffee's magic

I sing my praises
Of the great glorious coffee lady

Long may she continue
To be my sweat companion

Long may coffee continue
To rule my heart
And set my heart on fire

I love thee
Mistress coffee
And sometimes I think
You love me too

Copyright © jake aller | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |

Crime of the Century

The crime families have met
It’s all been flogged and settled
The crime of all crimes
The crime of the masterminds

They have met with the hackers
And the behind the scene masters
The plot is in play
Let all the world fall prey

Bankers will fall
Poets will run over to the mall
With their two dollar money orders
All for fame and obvious fortune

Any fraudster knows
To bring all the gullible in to binge
The prize must be huge
Huge and as heavenly as sin

If you never have to pay
Make the prize a billion they say
In gold or in fools all told
Oh yes this tops even Thomas’s crown

Affairs and petulant airs
They love the sound of their own voices
Living in a world with few choices
For those still seeking fools gold

Anything they don’t understand
Must be evil
Burn those whom don’t adhere
To our negative trump like ears

These brilliant pyramid men
Have figured out the perfect scheme
Send me two dollars
The contest is different than it seems

If you cant tell a template from the evil gate
Or an amateur student like affair
You are as blind as the guard
In the museum of fraudulent despair

The super tramp of 
Krispy Kreme
Has reported live
The crime of the century!

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2017

Details | Narrative |

A Faithful Bed - Mental Hospital 3

The day has come, a smiling sun shines through bold bars, across the room to the door, ajar, projecting the bars on the door as if it is definitely and eternally closed to go out or come in.

The swirling, smiling haze of the past few days is slowly lifting. The rectangle of the open door has an attractive oblong shape the form of a mouth, telling me I am welcome to enter it - or is it leave? -

The bed has a mind of its own, it owns me, it thinks.... When I try to lift my arm, the bed stops me, stalling me, suspending my arm mid-air, by encircling my bony wrist, encompassing it with an iron grip. My peaceful plea, brought with ever so supportive but strong words that I cannot repeat here, has no result. The opposite is true, it does a sincere attempt to keep me there forever. Turning me into a spreadeagled, reluctant, foul-mouthed lover.

The door decides enough is enough. It squeaks, squirms and squeals, uttering a single, long lived OOOOOOOOoooooooooooo in a deafening ear-shattering pitch....

And in they run, the men in white, with their syringes and multi-coloured pills.
They beam benevolently at me, and then show the bed its rightful place: it's a bed, not a guard!
And shamefully it complies, clips open its claws, groans as I sit upright

Finally, the day begins!


May 4, 2017 
Copyright © Darren White

Copyright © Darren White | Year Posted 2017

Details | Free verse |

Sunshine and daisies

   I recently heard something that caught my attention
Whether it's true or not, it was worth the mention

   Now I can't quote it word for word
But this is my story and what I heard

   To be a writer, you must be mad
Grew up with no dad 
Unexplainably sad
Your life, a mess, just downright bad
This would explain the success you've had 

   I won't protest
It would be hypocritical 
I must confess
I'm compulsively cynical 

   My head isn't filled with sunshine and daisies
I might just be, one of the crazies

Copyright © Anna Hopper | Year Posted 2017