Best Hilarious Poems


Premium Member Love In the Trenches

Now this is my definition of love
It's much like wrestling in the mud
You get down and dirty
And say things quite flirty
Then it all comes together with a thud

You scream out bloody murder together
Promise your undying love forever
Roll over and whisper
The name of her sister
Then you realize that wasn't too clever

She pummels your head without any mercy
You attempt to defend 'gainst her fury
You start to see rainbows
And a bunch of pretty halos
A ferocious little dynamo this girlie

Well eventually you recover your senses
And are able to put up some defences
You plant a big smacker
On this sweet li'l attacker
Then it's back to love in the trenches



© Jack Ellison 2015

This Klutz For Hire

I’ve picked it up a hundred times
yet dropped it just once more
So I give up, the blasted thing
can lay there on the floor

And stepping out onto the porch
I hit the ice and slipped
As I walked back into the house
I stubbed my toe and tripped

While dancing round in pain
I then collided with a table
For when it comes to graceful moves
I’m really quite unstable

Perhaps there is a simple way
to turn this all around
My clumsiness could work for me
each time I hit the ground

I could be a klutz for hire
stumbling for cash
I’ll charge my clients by the slip
the flip, the flop, the bash

If you need something dropped and broken
clearly I’m your man
If anyone can smash your stuff
this klutz for hire can

Perhaps you have a wall or door
that needs a good hard thump
Just be aware my going rate
is seven bucks per lump

I could knock your sister down
or trip into your aunt
Or I can make a great big mess
and kick your potted plant

And if your pets are underfoot
and adding to the drama
I’ll have to charge you extra
if I suffer blunt force trauma

There’s nothing quite as comical
and what a sight to see
as goldfish bouncing on the floor
It is my specialty

And when I fall I scream out loud
to add to the effect
I’ll see you get your money’s worth
when your whole house is wrecked

So call my number any time
My estimates are free
It’s 1-800-S T U-
M B L and E


© Mike Wise
1/30/19

Eating Crow With New Collaborations

No matter how some complain and bellow
they are exposed, each a trolling fellow
I'd look them in the eye
for telling one more lie
but I heard they're too busy eating crow
                            by Jenna Logan



Their "platforms" anchored, tightly tethered
Their statements all "if, ands, and whethers"
While blowing their horns
And spitting out thorns
From mouths full of fluffy crow feathers
                            by John Lawless




Cruel comments, sure catch one's eye
Demeaning, vindictive, but sly
Trolls aim to debase
And leave a bad taste
Perhaps they should eat humble pie
                              by Jan Allison



Some people just won't admit when they're wrong
Like to spin yarns and then string you along
But without any doubt
They are always caught out
Then feast on the first crow that comes along
                                 by Tom Cunningham



Will he choke while eating crow
A feeble mind he does show
He messed in the blog
When he slopped his hog
His words are wind and they blow
                            by Mark Koplin


Your posts pretend to blow off steam
but your words are so very mean
time to eat some crow
maybe time to go
Your vile blogs make me want to scream
                                by Tania Kitchin



So many people are really just a fake
It's just who they are, dear lord, for heaven's sake
I just want them all to know
I'd fill their mouths with crow
And feed them as much as their fat cheeks can take
                                 by Charlie Messina


A taste of revenge for the blogger
Whose intention is to cause bother
It's made perfectly clear
Folly falls on deaf ears
So fool, go eat crow for some fodder
                           by Belle Bellevue


Premium Member 12-31-23: A Number's Existential Crisis

'Twas the twilight of the year 
     a twinkling tiara.
December 31st, digits dancing dunes 
     in the Sahara.
One, two, three, one, two, three, 
     it's a prance.
A numerical Irish step dance 
     given a whimsical chance.

In the calendar's corners,
      a magical mystery unfurls.
As the date spins and swirls 
     like a jester's jingling twirls.
One, two, three, one, two, three, 
     in a line.
A date so divine, 
     it deserves its own shrine 
          so fine!

But wait, what's this? A satirical twist!
The date's just a number 
     it doesn't exist!
One, two, three, one, two, three, 
     what's the fuss?
Wait… all dates are human-
     created
          YES, by us!

The numbers are shocked 
     feeling quite superfluous.
In the grand scheme of things 
     oh so ridiculous!

So here's to the New Year 
     let's raise a toast.
To the date that we've come 
     to boast the most.
With champagne that sparkles 
     and tastes like the sun.
2023 is yet undone 
     run from the old 
          to the new one, 
               run, run, run!

In the canon of the digits 
     a lesson we see.
Time is a construct 
     as fluid as the sea.
So let's celebrate the moments 
     both big and small.
For, in the end 
     they're the most 
          precious of all.

Premium Member French Revolution Parody

Brigitte my love
Our Country suffers of many debts
The people are restless
Whatever shall we do love?

Ah Macron, we must think past the cookies
The solutions are complex, answers evasive
Let me speak with Marie Antoinette, she shall know!
Queen of Navarre, By god we shall be saved!

Marie, Marie Antoinette our people are restless
Our republic is in debt. these are crazy times!
Whatever shall we do?
I am fed up, allons-y

Ah fear not, if they have not bread!
Let them eat Nutella!
Lower the prices
Nutella for the masses!!!

Marie, are you sure? very very sure of such things?
Oui oui, on with it, my father was emperor of Rome
Nutella will calm the masses
Come here Nemo. taste, see even Nemo is tres happy now!

And so France lowered the prices of Nutella
Thus began the nouveau French Revolution
Riots in the streets, brawling in the magasins
The uprising has began, we want our Nutella for free

The masses rose
Nutella for all, Nutella for sans prix
We are all somewhat fou for Nutella you see!
And so the masses fought each other for Nutella's liberty


Nutella one and Nut Ella all!
I swear to your Brigette
We should have given them Macarons!!!
People remain civilized with cafe and cookies! n'est pas?

Emmanuel my love, fret not
The revolution shall be quelled
Qh I have the perfect person for this
He shall restore order to our dear republic

Prey tell Brigette? Who could do such a thing now
Riots everywhere, the masses fight each other daily?
The streets are not safe
There is a shortages of Nutella now, we are doomed cheri

Non non mon amour, I shall call Alizee
She shall sing us out of the terrible mess
She is the mistress of Doug McMillion
This man can save us all!!

Brigitte, who is this man you call Doug?
Why Emmanuel he is the president of Walmart
He has squashed many Black Fridays rebellions
He shall save us all!!!!!!

From these unruly unsavory Nutella shoppers!!!!!


Vive la France!
Vive Alizee
Mange ton macaroon mon cheri
C'est ton droit et ta liberté


Translations
Allons-y = Lets go, pronounced similar to Alizee
Magasins = Stores
N'est pas is written on sound should be "N'est ce pas"

Mange ton macaroon mon cheri = Eat your macaroon cookies my love"
C'est ton droit et ta liberte = Is your right and your liberty

Oops, It Was An Accident

Oops, It was an Accident

I accidentally let one loose
on a blind date with a guy named Bruce.
We went to the movies on that fateful day
happily carrying our snacks on a tray.
We settled down in our comfy seat
all ready to enjoy this special treat.
Things were proceeding oh so well
with popcorn, hot dogs, banana split with caramel,
when suddenly my stomach began to rumble,
and to my dismay, gurgle and grumble.
In fear, I felt the gases build up
like a once dormant volcano about to erupt.
Then helplessly, I had to just let it loose;
oh my gracious, the stench was profuse!
Mortified I wanted to drop to my knee,
but played possum so none would suspect it was me.

People started shouting such gross obscenities,
and hollering out unmentionable profanities.
One voice declared that something had died;
another indignantly wanted the stinker identified.
Someone suggested the skunk should be drowned;
I wanted to flee, but I dared not turn around. 
So quietly I sat unknown in the dark cinema,
as poor Bruce wondered aloud if someone had been given an enema.
My heart boomed forth just like a doom-drum,
I prayed no other foul odor would escape my guilty bum.
But like a clan of skunks, it lingered and stunk,
I was so afraid folks would figure out who’d made that funk.
Thankfully I was saved from public disgrace
as ushers armed with spray cans fogged up that whole place.
Gratefully I sighed, relieved that my crime
had not been traced back to me by show time!

07-09-2018

Contest:     I Accidentally Let One Loose
Sponsor:    Charles Messina
Placement: 1st


Premium Member First Love

First Love

A man remembers his first love.
Until he finds his grave.
If he lives to be a hundred.
That's what he'll always crave.

For some it might be a blonde.
A red head or brunette.
Others are still looking.
They haven't found it yet.

For some it is those buns of steel.
We've all heard about.
Whatever a mans first love is.
He hates to go without.

There may be some who's first love.
Is in the color of her eyes.
I'll always remember my first love.
A greasy cheese burger and fries.

Make it a double patty.
With everything on top.
Ketchup, mustard, or special sauce.
Please don't ever stop.

Fries fried to a golden brown.
Thin and crispy too.
A greasy cheese burger with some fries.
No talking til I'm through.

So now you know my secret.
A greasy cheeseburger and fries.
If you want inside my heart.
Make mine super size.

Edwin C Hofert

Premium Member Quacking Crackers

Donald Duck Chancellor of this fowl kingdom 
wearing an upside down smile's raging hypocrite backwards 
this deranged Duck twitters to and fro as his unhinged subjects 
unwittingly applaud him onto a victory march that never appears equal 
except in his alternate universe of oneness 
 
Calamity Jane perchance is on the horizon 
while war looms close by this feathers pride himself 
on his big show asking for a mirror to check his orange glow
he jokes and preens fading in and out so it would seem logical
tearing down all good morals he alienates with his constant magic escapades
 
 
Sleight of hand reflections move 
with this fake news it gets exposed
the big top rotates under an eclipsed lie
fire breathing condemning all those against his way
entering the arena for the next late show
 
Now Big Bird has been caught fibbing 
just when they thought everyone was safe
getting off the band wagon or so to speak
Just signing the pact with her feathered friend 
letting on they are getting on so well for the world to see buddies 
Almost joined at the hip like in their loyalty reigning over truth 
in this ungodly circus of the vainest sort
 
Where the funfair clowns abound
under fabrications an orangutan watches on 
beating his chest in an ape like manner and solid hands 
he has no way to express words
puffing and panting swaggers
living under thee umbrella protected from the truth’s influence
 
 
Alvin and his chipmunks sing the national anthem 
while the confederate flag waves goodbye over democracy
begins the three little pigs stages as they enter the building 
their houses from clay flamed with truth
ransomed for vanities sake no good ending can come

Earthquakes separate the earth
floods come with grave disaster  
hurricanes winds rise from the greatest source 
even this cannot deter or distract this awful Duck
one mission under a selfish chant of 
quack a doodle quack, quack a doodle quack, quack a doodle quack
which only translates to me 
only me, me only me, me only me!



a co written piece by Donna Loughman and Liam McDaid

Premium Member Speaking With Shakespeare

I ran into Shakespeare the other day.
Told him I too am writing a play.
He asked about the premise, which was a reeler.
I had no idea he is a big premise-stealer.

I told him the plot, and he took a few notes.
I was excited when I saw him put them into his totes.
What will you do with them? I asked him, truly awed.
He would not tell me, because Shakespeare is flawed.

Just one thing, he asked, what is a hooker?
I thought that was funny, he's quite a humorous cooker!
A harlot, a whore, a rounder, tart, courtesan, I said.
"Oh, a strumpet!" he guessed, and his face turned all red.

So the next time you use the word strumpet remember to thank.
The guy who reintroduced this word to me - I call him Hank.
It's a fun word for sure, and will get some attention.
But don't use it if you are haughty with high needs of pretension.

Premium Member Ghost Fun

ghost cameras
	recording spirits.
			Sure….

ghost riders
        	galloping entities
			okay….

ghost dancers
	shaking their booties
			What booties?

Premium Member My Shoe Collection

My Shoe Collection


Shoes

Nice if you have them

Shoes

There is love
There is happiness
When the next path of your journey
You take with shoes on your feet


Shoes

I am coming out of the closet
I am not a woman
But I do have too many shoes

Shoes

Love and relationships
Why there are a lot like a pair of shoes
At times, things may stink and smell
Yet still better as a pair

Shoes

If I could walk a mile
In everyman’s shoes
I could walk forever
Never having to buy my own


Red Shoes

The Red Socks
Will never win
Without good running shoes


Blue Shoes

If only I had blue shoes
Of suede
Id be dancing with you
After the autographs

Shoes

Homeless people wish for shoes
Millionaires wish for closets


Big Shoes

My feet are so big
Ladies buy me my shoes


Shoe Sale

The man with one leg
Looks for shoe sales
At half off


The Hookers Shoes

A good hooker
Never has used shoes

Academy a Wards

Winners and losers
All complain about their shoes
Petty and jealous, the famously inane
Their shoes show their vain


Shoe Diversity

They come in many fashions
In shoes there is humanities design
We all walk the path of human strife
All Shoes matter


Celtic Shoes

Irish Shoes
Scottish shoes
Welsh shoes
All meet at the pub
So their feet can have a rest
While the mouths imbibe with chatter
If all goes well
Later on
The shoes fall off in a clatter


Miami Vice

Got the finest shoes from Miami
Found out they were fakes
Tongues were bent and crooked
Must have come from crocodile skinned tears
Mocking the homeless with no shoes over the years


The Great Canadian Shoe Trapper

The trapper goes for beaver pelts
The millionaire goes for shoes of felt
Armani makes it all the way
Only when the consumer comes out to play


The Shoeless Argentine

If you wish to invade the Falkland’s
Remember to bring your shoes
Cause your dictator has all your money
He cares not if you really lose

Premium Member I Amuse Myself

When no one else is around 
I AMUSE MYSELF while sitting down
And bring myself  tons of joy when I pretend to be 
A stand-up comedian amusing all my friends.

I amuse myself then.
Nothing else to do while sitting in the pews.
I might as well count my blessings, and
AMUSE myself while confessing.

When I'm sleeping I amuse
Myself with my nightmares as I'M screaming
Frighteningly  amusing me.

I amuse myself with fun and jokes GALES of
Laughter thereafter.  FUNNY patrols the halls 
Of speckled jest. HA! I amuse myself at my
Own request.

When muscles are weak from laughters cause
I amuse myself with my APPLAUSE.
I create a funny story recite it to myself
And listen to my own glee.

I amuse myself with peals of SPASTIC 
HILARITY.  With tricks and folly it's all the
Same.  I amuse myself with silly games

At the end of the day I'm amused by the moon
As it sits beneath its HALO  laughing quietly
At me
HILARIOUSLY amusing me.

Premium Member Oh Christmas Tree

Oh Christmas tree
Oh Christmas tree
Oh no I’m singing to a Christmas tree

Rum eggnog in me
Rum eggnog in me
Oh no I’m singing to the Christmas tree

Oh Christmas tree
Oh Christmas tree
Much pleasure thou can give me

Oh mistletoe 
Oh mistletoe 
I’hve a Christmas tree I want to show

Oh Christmas tree
Oh Christmas tree
Oh, I just kissed a Christmas tree

Oh Christine tee hee
Oh Christine tee hee
I thought you was a Christmas tree

No more rum for me
No more rum for me

Or my wife will toss me out
With the Christmas tree


Notes: I have no wife, and I have no tree, I may have some rum, but shhhhhh

Am In Love With a Prostitute

am in love with a prostitute
a prostitute is a women too
some are force to prostitute
through hardships
some just love sex and money
some are just in slave to sex 
some are happy to have it 
as a life style
still prostitute are women too

am in love with a prostitute
am young and sensitive
don't blame my ego 
but think about my quest 
in life 
in search of live I respect
every kind of human
in different ways of 
works and shadows 
life caves 
I meet an intelligent lady 
she was poor but real 
she was smart but 
less privileged in her 
society were corruption
eats up all what belong 
to her citizens that don't 
exclude her 
so she sort for a means 
in escape of poverty and
that ends her up to 
prostitution
despite other means 

am in love with a prostitute
am young and sensitive 
I follow my mind 
when I need grow in 
knowledge it don't 
matter who is the one 
involve life can be funny 
when you look odd
in the eye of people 
who are not perfect
yet they keep your 
record in their frustrated
mind to judge others
mistake with out 
no permission nor respect
and if I am among them
I couldn't have had the 
knowledge I gather 
in a relationship 
with a prostitute

Premium Member I Am a Very Bad Poet

So I have been told
by a drunk
does he own a pair of shoes?
has he ever walked in another's?
mean and grouchy
unkind to falling leaves
what dreams were stolen
was he the thief or victim robbed?
or does whiskey make him dumb?
and numb
narrow is the hateful mind
who sold his dignity
a silver coin for naught
Scrooge counting compliments like gold ingots
stealing orphans smiles, scotch with spite
the elevator though goes only down
fury and fires and poetic justices
he will burn in hell
listening  forever to the angels voices
reciting for eternity
my
very bad poetry

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