Best Giggle Poems | Poetry
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New Giggle Poems
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Make Young Girlies Giggle
by Ellison, Jack
My Giggle Gene Doth Soar
by Ellison, Jack
by Nipas, Wendy
by Ellison, Jack
A Giggle Provoker
by Ellison, Jack
Whisper Whisper Giggle Giggle
by Krutsinger, Caren
A Giggle Degree From MIT
by Ellison, Jack
Your Giggle Feeder
by Ellison, Jack
A Giggle Maker Elite
by Ellison, Jack
by Barden, Gregory R
View all new Giggle Poems
The Best Giggle Poems
I think in Japanese,
write down my thoughts in English,
then twist it all back into sushi:
a tasty bite to eat.
My mind is origami
folding thoughts into meditation;
into a crisp sheet of city lights.
I love you big much,
love you big time;
I love the way you giggle nervously.
It must be amazing to find everything so funny.
Big city, sake sunset;
a karaoke moon rises
over a robotic, neon inception.
comes to the aid of Samurai Prime.
Bored of the bright lights?
Weary of the snappy-happy gaijin
while they search for a sweet sakura-panpan?
Then head up to Hokkaido,
where there's less sucky-sucky,
and more bow-down-low-austerity
alongside the 108 gongs a-bonging.
Take a leisurely stroll,
chant a few prayers,
speak with the sacred cedars,
take a dip in the hot springs
with some smiling monkeys,
and together, watch snow fall.
Nippon, you offer everything.
I can eat 20 times a day
without gaining a pound.
There's always more room
for miso, chanko nabe, shabu-shabu,
I am going to stop writing this list
before I drown in my saliva.
I refuse to look back,
refuse to go back to the boredom
of white picket fences and hamburger dreams;
I want to stay here forever.
I love you big much,
love you big time;
totemo ureshii da.
March 1st, 2012
Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner | Year Posted 2012
You call me insensitive,
But I don't believe that's true;
Because, you see,
It's all about me.
It's not about you.
You say your opinion doesn’t matter,
That I’ve no respect for your point of view;
But I do if we agree,
Because it’s all about me.
It’s not about you.
You say I’ve no compassion,
No feelings for your troubles or your blues;
But none of us is issue free,
And mine are all about me;
But…not about you.
A time old adage,
“To thine own self be true.”,
Is all about choices you see.
My choices are all about me,
And, certainly, not about you.
So, when its time to make your choices
You’ll understand and know it’s true;
To decide what will or will not be,
Won’t be at all about me;
It will be all about you
But special moments confront most of us,
When what matters isn’t “Me”.
And while these moments are few,
They’re not about me, not about you.
For a time, it’s all about “We.”
Yes, “…no man is an island.”
Is a valid point of view;
But if it’s not about “We”,
Then it’s all about me.
Sorry. It’s not about you.
Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014
I have tracked my New Year's Resolutions
over the years these are my fantastic results.
2011: I will try to be more attentive to Lauren.
2012: I will pay more attention to what's her name...ah...Lori...I know I'm close.
2013: I will try for reconciliation with Lo.
2014: I will try to be more attentive to Carol.
2011: I will walk 35,000 steps a day this year.
2012: I will definitely start my walking routine this year at 10,000 steps a day.
2013: I will walk once a week.
2014: I will try to drive past a gym at least once a week.
2008: I will not stare at women's cleavage .
2009: I will cut down the amount of time I stare at women's cleavage.
2010: I will stop being so obvious when I stare at women's cleavage.
2011: I will attempt to stop getting caught staring at women's cleavage.
2012: I will stop increasing the time I spend staring at women's cleavage.
2013: I will seek professional help as directed by the courts.
2014: I will try to stop starring at the female prison guards cleavage.
2011: I will not let my siblings push me around.
2012: I will stick up for myself with at least one of my siblings.
2013: I will not let my siblings bullying depress me.
2014: I will talk to Dr. Potter and the group about my siblings.
2008: I will read Clarissa this year all 1534 pages.
2009: I did not read Clarissa I will read Varney The Vampire all 866 pages.
2010: I will read the first 50 pages of Varney The Vampire this year.
2011: I will read some articles in the newspaper this year.
2012: I will try and finish the comics section this year.
2013: I will read one strip in the cartoon section this year.
2014: I will read the fortune cookie thingy the next time I have Chinese Food.
Sponsor: Regina Riddle
Contest Name: New Year's Resolution
Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2014
Good morning World.
and your warm
prying open my eyes.
Robbing me of my
my semiconscious bliss.
Leaving the remnants
of my peace
laying scattered across
my face and through
Your rising light
shrinking the shadows
of my freedom.
I will not be seduced
by your clear blue promises.
For your pressing realities
already taste foul
in my mouth.
Leave me Morning
to my diminishing serenity.
I have performed this piece and it shows on you tube (I hope this works, if not try copying to your address bar):
Copyright © scott thirtyseven | Year Posted 2013
In his bed she hears him approach with long strides.
The covers are over her head as she pretends to hide.
With one swift yank she is left naked and bare.
Meeting his eyes in a longing appreciative stare.
In his bed he falls swiftly into her welcoming arms.
With a fiery passionate kiss he surrenders to her womanly charms.
She hungers for him like she has for no other.
Just being with him sends her into a delicious shudder.
In his bed she helps him out of his clothes as quickly as she can.
Wanting to feel his skin touching hers yet once again.
She marvels at his physique, he is a feast for her eyes.
She can never get enough of him no matter how much she tries.
In his bed she gives his nipple a lick, then a gentle bite.
Her hand grasps his hardness, they both are filled with delight.
She lowers herself and teases him deliberately with her tongue.
The music that they make together has only just wondrously begun.
In his bed he pulls her gently away, for he is on the verge.
He does not want any waiting time before they finally merge.
His eyes light up as they take in each and every curve.
A giggle escapes her lips as she sweetly whispers....."self serve!"
In his bed he is overcome with hunger, his eyes fill with lust.
His lips trail kisses down her arms before they settle on her bust.
Up and down each leg, not a spot he wants to miss.
He feels her body twitch and tremble from each perfectly placed kiss.
In his bed she feels his tongue lascivious lick her inner thigh.
She marvels at his patience, he is unlike any other guy.
She lets out a gasp as he zooms in on the right spot.
He deftly uses his tongue and lips, shy he is not.
In his bed he hears her breath quicken and feels her body shake.
If this is a dream, then he hopes he'll never wake.
He covers her body with his and miraculously they become one.
The pleasure so immense and they only just begun.
Copyright © Cecilia Macfarlane | Year Posted 2009
God made Adam out of the clay,
A friend for walks in the cool of the day.
Eden was all that Adam had to tend,
But God decided he needed a friend.
From Adams rib, God did conceive,
A companion for him who He called Eve.
How long he walked with God we do not know,
But it was a good life without sorrow.
But this all came to an abrupt end,
On that morning Eve he did comprehend.
For from the moment she was activated,
Adam's life was aggravated.
Each day became an infernal drag,
Because all she did was NAG, NAG, NAG.
The grass is too green, the flowers too bright,
And where do you go in the cool of the night?
Where do I go when I want a chat?
I've got no friends, did you think of that?
You've got a job, God did you proud,
All I get told is, don't touch that, it's not allowed.
I'm going to leave, with nothing to put in a bag.
Adam said yes, please go, then no more NAG, NAG, NAG..
© Dave Timperley 2013
Copyright © Dave Timperley | Year Posted 2013
If only...I could start over again.
Took that job in Memphis and stayed away from so-called-friends.
If only...I could right the wrongs.
Find the perfect songs and make you giggle all night long.
If only...My wager would have been on the winning team.
But life is mean and I lost everything.
If only...I would have turned the other cheek.
You can't walk down a street without a coward preying on the weak.
If only...I would have turned left instead of right.
An automobile accident plus the loss of my eyesight.
If only...I could travel back in time.
Do things differently and have peace of mind.
If only...she were alive today.
My mother would shake her finger and say...
"If only, If only, If only!"
Copyright © Jimmy Anderson | Year Posted 2009
All the slightest detais that make us so far apart, but so alike
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2017
The frog croaked
The cricket chirped
The cricket croaked
The frog burped
Copyright © Roger Wilson | Year Posted 2017
There once was a monkey named Frank
Who loved to walk the plank
He said too many jokes
Pulled too many hoaxe-s
Ha! Ha! Ha! Then he got a good spank
Who's that monkey in front of me
I dare to hang with you on a tree
Oh! What I do? Will you do?
Together we are like glue
Is that my flea or your flea?
~ Skat ~
Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2011
JESTER *''(] :-)
The best days come round and round
Follow the around the world
A Jester you are the crown
A Jester among the crowd
Searching for life from pole to pole!
A professional when it comes to clown
You got the soul to let it roll
Your too clever to hold a frown
Your parole has lost your control
A smile is all you know how to expand
You run - you play - you dance
Implanting a moment, so grand
Lifting the spirit with just one glance.
You are like a substance in high demand
You are the Queen to a blind romance
You stole the heart of a Nobel man
Jester we are at the feet of your command
Parted from the King, who does not understand
The crowd eating from the palm of your hand
No one knows what jokes you got planned
LADY QUEEN YOU HOLD THE SOUL OF A JESTER
Suited up in pinkish - purple - green polyester
Everyone bowing to you where you stand
Excitement towards the Queen, who plays the Jester
Jerking the kingdom of her land
Jester you play the role of the best mind molester!!
Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2010
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.
Nothing I did, made him unfold.
All I wanted was his pot of gold!
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2012
As you open the door...
you are momentarily transported
back to an innocent child like state.
Your concentration wavers
as your senses react like a 4th of July
Large, colorful posters cover the walls
offering tasty descriptions of many of the items.
All the while the scents of chocolate, fruit,
along with a variable feast of
confectionery delights are taken in
with every breath.
You look around...it's almost your turn.
You must decide...but it can not be taken lightly,
or simply blurted out in a moment of desperation.
The moment has arrived as you step up to the counter.
As eye contact is made,
your mind gives second thoughts to your selection.
Taking a deep breath, you calm yourself...
you can do this you tell yourself,
as the words start to form.
" I'll have a scoop of chocolate chip mint...a scoop of fudge nut brownie,
and a scoop of strawberry cheesecake in a
chocolate waffle cone dish...topped with a modest swirl of whip cream
and hot caramel drizzle, crowned with one perfectly positioned cherry."
Your mouth waters as you take possession of your masterpiece.
As you turn, you look proudly at the others in line,
letting them see your perfectly proportioned glacial reward.
As you grab your spoon, you waste no time leaving,
changing back into an adult, climb back in your car
to feast privately...like a hungry mouse hiding...
eating the last piece of cheese.
Copyright © Pam Deremer | Year Posted 2015
My suntan comes from a bottle
My hair from a wig maker in Peru
My legs are very hairy
I have to put my teeth in to chew
I have had plastic surgery
And a nip and tuck
And I'm soon to have my nose done
With a bit of luck
My lips are bigger than Mick Jagger's
And I have that wind tunnel look
And I'm quite a catch by anybodies book
But I'm all man
But I do what I can
I do have a six pack
But keep it in the cooler
Yes I'm quite a man
I measured it with a ruler.
So come on ladies grab me while you can
When I've got my teeth in and wig up on my head
They say I look like George Clooney
But then I look in the mirror
And I think they meant Mickey Rooney.
Ar well can't have everything
But my heart is loving and true
I may not be organic no more
With all the plastic surgery
But there's much more than that to me.
Peter Dome.copyright.2014. July.
Copyright © Peter Dome | Year Posted 2014
There once was a witch whose pies
Were unique as to flavor and size.
When she opened her ovens
She delighted her covens,
With dozens of old crusty guys.
Copyright © Richard Breese | Year Posted 2014
Sometimes I Feel Beautiful
Driving along thinking about what I’m about to do brings a smile to my face. Without a doubt my hair and nails make a big difference in the way I feel about myself! When I look pretty; I feel pretty.
Today my nails will be done in pink and white, oh yes, perfect they shall be. Nothing short of looking delicate and refined I tell myself. I am so excited; the anticipation brings joy into my heart and laughter to my lips!
My hair appointment is closing in. High lights and shaping adds a playful and fun demeanor. Beautiful is how it’s going to look and beautiful is how I’ll feel. I almost need to pinch myself for I wonder is this really happening to me! Tears sting my eyes and giggles flow forth. Yes; this is my life and this is happening to me!
Thinking of my new makeup and how youthful I’m going to look brings joy into this heart of mine. I can hardly wait to put it on as the excitement builds; I dance around and giggle. I feel so beautiful thinking how perfect I’ll look with everything finished.
At times I tell myself, “I know he loves me, I can tell”. The glowing in his eyes seems to sparkle with love and passion. My Heart beats a little faster as excitement and wonder fills my entire being! Yes, this is how it should always be, a life filled with joy and laughter.
Finding ways to look beautiful helps me feel beautiful. It’s this that causes me to giggle and dance about. The unbridled excitement loosened, flowing through my veins fills me with love and wanting. Tomorrow just maybe this joy will add new meaning and direction causing me to continue feeling beautiful..
Copyright © Debbie Knapp | Year Posted 2011
Two poets who couldn't agree
Raise their voices to their loud pleas
One wasn't able to stop
His zip open, out pops!
Haha, it's a pea, not the size of a tree
©J. A. Fraser and O. E. Guillermo 15.18pm, April 07, 2015
Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2015
The sound of thick bubbling,
with the smell of fresh blackberries.
The stains upon our fingers and clothes,
all part of my homemade jam memories.
Growing wild along the roads,
the brambles tall and thick.
Pails and buckets overflowing,
eating our fill as we would pick.
The kitchen, busy as a beehive,
those tasty berries getting mashed.
The "Women" all worked together,
young or old, we each had our tasks.
Four generations, making jam.
"Puttin' back" as it was called.
I still remember the stories told
and the laughter from us all.
Not just a smile does it bring,
a calmness pours soft over me.
A giggle will well up time to time,
at my homemade jam memories.
For the contest: Sounds and Smells
Hosted by: Frank Herrera
Placement: Honorable Mention
Copyright © Paula Swanson | Year Posted 2010
I have a friend by the name of Tim,
He keeps in shape when frequents the gym.
His Kelly green Mustang he drove
And smack'd it into a cove.
The witches got him and ate one of his limbs!
Copyright © Dorian Petersen Potter | Year Posted 2014
As heat bursts around,
silence lets me ponder on,
where I left my phone.
Copyright © Jackson LaBaugh | Year Posted 2016
My friend Quigley likes to sing
Really almost any thing.
Till once a high note
Caused a blackbird to float,
Down to earth less one wing.
Copyright © Richard Breese | Year Posted 2014
This is a verse of new thoughts,
I've invented indoor sports,
Written in a poem of riddles,
Like, "What is Time for Tiddles?"
Why, it's wine with Mahjong,
Those tiles don't tarry long,
Then, it's "Drinks for Scrabble,"
With bevvies, we'll all dabble,
Or, "Come and try my beers,"
Many varieties over here,
New indoor sports, my dears!
Copyright © Julie Grenness | Year Posted 2016
Delight and laughter are your stock and trade,
With rhyme you carry our worries away,
You’re much more fun than a penny arcade.
Words sparkle like an egg by Faberge,
Dancing across poems like a cabaret.
A footle on poop, you’re back in the loop,
With words tastier than alphabet soup.
The limericks you write are out of sight,
Leaving us soupers no time to regroup,
Before the next poem gives pure delight.
Written 07/07/2015 for my dear friend Jan.
"When you smile all Soupers smile with you"
Copyright © Shane Cooper | Year Posted 2015
What if God became a woman what a difference we would see,
And the first thing that she'd tackle is the way that we all pee.
She’ll have seen all the advantages that’s there when you’re a boy;
How it saves with all that squatting, and at night becomes a toy.
She'll introduce discretions, like an air valve better placed,
To save girls sneaking trapped air out and getting all red-faced.
With the aid of hidden pipework, they could whistle merry tunes,
And the playing of this music could be used for clearing rooms.
The next thing that she'd tackle would be partners taking turn,
As a nine months’ stretch is quite some time for carrying a bairn.
If the girls can do the last part, when dear junior starts to rub,
Men could have it when it doesn’t show and take it down to the pub.
And then onward into shaving - where it really isn’t fair,
As the slightest fluff grows on girls’ legs and barely none elsewhere.
I fear that Man’s dispenser will be programmed and re-planned
So a button pressed and wristwork will squirt hot wax in her hand.
And the final piece of justice; she'll see balance to be done,
As we both will have the ‘monthlies’ now instead of only one.
We’ll gladly do the mood swings, and we’ll even have the belly,
But the thought of using tampons simply terms my legs to jelly.
So there we are; the deed is done, at last the world is equal,
But I, for one, don’t hold much hope for this thoughtful female sequel.
And as for: “Will it make things better, or will it make things worse?”
I guess we’ll have to wait and see. Oh shite - I’ve dropped my purse!
Copyright © Dennis East | Year Posted 2014
On the dance-floor they did a zigzag
But he was an ol’ scallywag:
- “If you feel something hard
- Pay no regard …
It’s just my colostomy-bag”
Copyright © Jack Clark | Year Posted 2014