Best Humor Poems
I stand about five feet eight
I'll admit, I'm a tad overweight
Drive an old pick up truck
Not one to pass the buck
At the moment have a dog for a mate
Dropped out of school at eighteen
Got married in a pair of old jeans
A father of four
When I sleep, I snore
When angered been known to get mean
I grew up huntin' and fishin'
Done more than my share of wishin'
Been in a few fights
Know I'm not always right
For my age, still in decent condition
In my life, I've worked many hard jobs
Its been said, "I'm rough as a cob"
I've smoked and drank
Spent time in the tank
And never, not once, did I sob
I also love being outside
My old skin is weathered and dried
Still play in the dirt
Cuss when I'm hurt
But I do have a softer side
Poetry, I read and I write
These days, prefer music to be lite
Love trees and flowers
Warm spring showers
And swinging on stars at night
I like women who like to hold hands
Take moonlight walks on the sand
Curves excite me
Whispers invite me
A good listener who tries to understand
I wash dishes, do laundry and floors
Clean bathrooms, wash walls and doors
I'm a pretty good cook
Without a cookbook
To be honest, don't mind household chores
Just so you're perfectly clear
I've traveled from there to here
Simple but complex
Know love's more than sex
And on occasion I cry manly tears
Yes sometimes I even wear pink
Wear cologne to make sure I don't stink
Write poems about birds
Use everyday words
And I don't give a damn what you think!
by Daniel Turner
"Rhyming poems have nothing of substance to say
They're childish! Ridiculous! Silly! Passe!
What's that - 'The Raven,' fine prose, you assure?
Pshaw, a talking bird is not Literature!
'The Road Not Taken' - how indecisively trite
'Shall I Compare Thee to a Summer's Day' ~ why, out of spite?
'How Do I Love Thee' - such female nonsense!
'She Walks in Beauty,' not even past tense!
'Oh Captain, my Captain' just repeats and repeats
'Death Be Not Proud' - indeed, no great feat
Rhyme is over and done, finite, dead
Give me a rambling run-on sentence, instead!"
Sure, it's easy to call Dr. Seuss poppycock
HIS books are world-famous, what have YOU got?
12/11/18
Entered in 'Living It Up for Laughter' contest
She had so many chances
Yet she kept muffin it up
Butter intentions were good
Just not much coffee in her cup
Couldn’t make a good decision
Too much waffling back and forth
Always peppered with doubt
Should she head south, no maybe north
Still, she was fun at a party
I would say, hummus a tune
She’d say, "Icing because I’m happy"
As the words began to croon
Maybe that’s what’s most important
Omelet let her off the hook
So she’s always in a pickle
Doesn’t do things by the book
Once again, I’m gonna help her
Since she is such a good egg
I said, girl, you’d go much farther
If you weren’t such a nut Meg
Trees wear a gown of bright emerald green
Where birds are nesting in branches up high
Parents shield fledglings so they can’t be seen
Until they can spread their new wings and fly
Daffodils dance in the warm zephyr breeze
Bees buzz seeking out these pretty flowers
Yellow pollen doesn't make the bees sneeze!
They will pollinate blooms for many hours
Young lambs gamboling around in the fields
Birds fly high in the sky of azure blue
I love the spring season where nature yields
Our earth’s a stunning place for me and you
Spring brings rejuvenation to our land
The vibrant countryside looks very grand
14 lines 10 syllables per line
Checked with how many syllables*
Doesn't counted as 2 syllables
Had previously been awarded 1st place in another contest and also POTD subsequently given
n/a in Best sonnet contest
Sponsored by Laura loo
judged on 3/3/2018 9:36:00 AM
Entered into POTD Contest Sponsored By Richard Lamoureux
Poets Notes. I struggle to write sonnets I find the form extremely challenging so was delighted to get POTD in 2016 for this particular poem
08~19~16
YES DEAR!
I have here an old solution
For conflict resolution
Not to mention domestic pollution
I say 'Yes Dear!'
When the situation is tense
With a subject like pounds and pence
To avoid sitting on the fence
I say 'Yes Dear!'
Though I sometimes feel sure I'm right
And would argue my point all night
That would really seal my plight
I confess Dear!
So winning my point I'll eschew
Won't debate 'til my face turns blue
I'll admit what you say is true
- More or less Dear
Famous men throughout world history
Would avoid conjugal misery
If they'd just given in to Her plea
And said 'Yes Dear!'
Julius Caesar would have stayed serene
In the senate missed a nasty scene
When his wife said 'your chariot needs a clean'
He'd said 'Yes Dear!'
Harold might have continued as king
Sent William home without a thing
But he paused when his wife gave a ring
Said: 'I'm a bit pressed Dear!
MacBeth would avoid so much strife
And live out a peaceful life
If he'd put off his ambitious wife
With:'Give it a rest Dear!'
Prince Albert a faithful consort
Gave Victoria his total support
And nine children - a major export
Said 'Jawohl I do mein best Dear!'
Louis 16th got everything wrong
Made his exit quite short, not so long
Told his wife in a touching swan song
'Must get it off my chest Dear!'
The Iron Duke was in no mood for dallies
'Let's give those French a pain in their bellies'
But when his wife said:'You'd better wear your wellies'
Said: ‘By God! Yes Dear'
For myself, to fight would be absurd
I think conflict is just for the birds
And I know I'll always get the last words
Those being 'Yes Dear!'
3 March 2019
Make me actually LOL 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Nina Parmenter
To all the pens I’ve lost before
That rolled off my desk and, on the floor
I’m glad they came along
I dedicate this song
To all the pens I’ve lost before
To all the pens I’ve once caressed
And may I say, I’ve held the best
For helping me to grow, I owe a lot I know
To all the pens I’ve lost before
Ideas in my mind were growing
And all those things I had to say
Those things and thoughts my inward praying
Etched in pen with verse I’d play
To all the pens that gave words life
That helped express love to my wife
I’m glad you came along
I dedicate this song
To all the pens I’ve lost before
To all the pens that inspired me
That filled empty pages with fantasy
They live within my heart
Always playing an important part
For all the pens I’ve lost before
With the wisdom each pen was bestowing
They helped me find the right words to say
Inspiration steadily growing
Why did the best pens never stay
To all the pens I’ve lost before
That rolled off my desk and, on the floor
I’m glad they came along
I dedicate this song
To all the pens I’ve lost before
To all the pens I’ve held before
From you I could not ask for more
Yes, I’m glad you came along
Without you I couldn’t write my songs
To all the pens I’ve lost before.
A parody of Willie Nelson’s song, I hope you enjoy.
My dear brother Butch,
Hair are the highlights of my week:
I got a job at the Hairway to Heaven salon!
Our motto: "We color your hair or dye trying"
When the interviewer said "I mustache you a question..."
I answered, "May I mullet over?"
Seriously, working there is a shear delight,
with some nice fringe benefits
They're a real cut above the rest
and I shave a lot of money on hair products...
I bought Dad a comb for Father's Day… I bet he'll never part with it
It is a long drive to the salon, but now I know all the short cuts
Oh hey, I know hair-growth seminars are not your style, but
call up your receding hairline buddies and comb on over!
It was great to see you last week, you are looking so trim!
I still feel terrible about the curling iron incident…
You can rest a-sheared I'll straighten it out
but I mussed warn you, you might get fro straighted
Just remember, $15 for a hairpiece is a small price toupée
You may not like short hair at first, but it will grow on you
...that's the mane thing
Did you hear Mom and Dad had a brush with death?
It was a very hairy situation with a real twist:
buzzing down the highway at a decent clip
someone tried to cut them off
Mom was ready to wig out, curl up and dye, but thankfully
Dad went to great lengths to avoid an accident
so there was no permanent damage
you had to see it to be-weave it
Ok, time for a couple of jokes to lighten the mood:
How does the man on the moon trim his hair?
Eclipse.
Why did Pavlov have such fabulous looking hair?
Conditioning.
Why do felines groom with their tongues?
They can't find their catacombs.
Why did the little girl watch "Black Stallion" more than "Babe"?
She liked pony tales more than pig tales.
What was the barber's sign before he went on vacation?
"Hair today, gone to Maui"
Did you hear about the novelty store selling fake piles of dung?
It was sham poo.
Just teasing!
Take hair,
Curly
Twenty first of October in two thousand and eighteen
Was the worst disaster poetry soup had seen
Poems wiped off the website as all the poets slept
When the disaster unfolded many poets wept.
Some had spent hours composing their verses
But no backup made, the air soon filled with curses
Contest entries too vanished without trace
Sponsors left fuming they had nothing to place.
And the beautiful comments people said about you
Into a cyber space black hole they all vanished too
The next night the poems, to everyone’s dismay
Returned to the site, ‘twas like Groundhog day.
Some blamed the Russians, some blamed the C.I.A.
Others wanted revenge for what happened that day
But do rest assured, soup said “have no fear
Free membership for everyone, for a whole year”
Now that’s a kind act I’m sure you’ll agree
Remember worse disasters have happened at sea
The moral of this verse is to remind everyone
Make a backup of your work when it is done.
(This did happen, not sure about the free membership though lol.
But it is a wake up call; always back up your work.)
It was now growing dark as the sun was going down
When a stranger rode into Soup Creek, a frontier town
No one could see his face, he was all dressed in black
An old boy was heard to say "I think he's come back".
He took his horse to the stable, then went to the boarding house
Before he went in looked across the street, to the town jailhouse
There was a familiar figure sat outside, in a rocking chair
Cradling a Winchester and the stranger, felt his cold stare.
He'd returned after all these years; he had something to prove
And just after a few days back in town, he would make his move
But Sheriff Koplin is no fool and he had planned up far ahead
And had formed a posse whilst the stranger slept in his bed.
Three fiesty girls from the saloon, Jan and Jenna, Tania too
And a Texas ranger called David who was just passing through
With gambler Milton who was deadly, with a colt forty five
And Tom the undertaker who looked more dead than alive.
It was the evening of the showdown; the stranger came out of the saloon
The sun was now setting but the tension had been building up since noon
From his holster he withdrew his pistol and then fired shots up into the air
The stranger was not one for living a peaceful life and he just didn't care.
Sheriff Koplin approached him and said "Hand over your gun"
And the stranger replied "Lighten up man, I'm just having fun"
The stranger was laughing now and looking down at his feet
The townsfolk were nervous and had disappeared off the street.
Then behind the stranger came a shout in a loud Texas drawl
It was Jenna disguised as an old woman, covered with a shawl
"You heard the sheriff " she shouted, "Put your gun on the ground"
The air was now thick with tension and you couldn't hear a sound.
Then from nowhere the rest of the posse appeared pistols in hand
They abhorred bullies and conflict and were prepared to make a stand
The stranger realised he couldn't win and threw his gun down
Walked to the livery stable to get his horse, and rode out of town.
The drama was now over but it could have gone either way
Sheriff Koplin and his posse restored peace, and had won the day
It was now days end in Soup Creek in that peaceful frontier town
All you could hear were chirping crickets as the sun was going down.
Written on 20th May 2022.
He stood on the street corner
Having a much needed smoke
Somehow we got chatting
And he told me a joke
And i started laughing
The way that you do
He looked at me smiling
And started laughing too
And his dog laughed too.
It became a habit
Ever after that
Every morning I’d stop
For a little chat
And listen to any joke
That he would tell
His supply seemed endless
And he told them so well
And his dog laughed too.
One day I saw the dog
Out with another guy
So I said hello to him
And I asked him why.
He said he was standing in
His dad had had a stroke
So I sent my best wishes
And I really missed his joke
And his dog just looked sad.
I asked about him every day
Was told he was improving
Was chafing at the bit to
Get his recovery moving.
I was so pleased to hear
Of progress like that
For I really missed
His joke and our chat
And his dog looked optimistic.
Then one day I saw him back
Standing there having a smoke
I bid him a good to see you
I’ve missed your daily joke.
We both laughed uproariously
As he told me his latest one
And the dog wagged his tail
All signs of sadness gone
And his dog laughed too.
When it's soup season on Poetry Soup
Ingredients are in large selection
Creamy chicken soup is yummy
for both body and soul
it is simple to fix
Step one:
Joseph and John catch the chicken
it runs wild in the back garden
Step Two:
Robert and Richard pluck the feathers
and takes out the entrails
no one else would do this work so well
Step Three:
Wash your hands (I bet they smell)
Step Four:
Tania and Evelyn
fry the chicken in butter
together they sing a cheerful song
Step Five:
Ilene and Jan
is responsible for
leek, bell peppers
and carrot in the pot
their tools are humor
not razor sharp knifes
Step Six:
Hiya who is "chicken" in the group
adds boiling broth stock
Linda tells her to be cautious
kitchen window has been misted by steam
Step Seven:
Let the soup boil for ten to fifteen minutes
Sara says to her husband Bill who stirs the pot
Step Eight: Crème Fraîche
Paula and Heidi adds an extra dash
and taste a little with a wooden spoon
Step Nine:
Victor chops some fresh parsley
he feels refreshed and hungry today
Step ten: Pick your place around the table
Welcome to Soup - Enjoy
Mourn not my Son... your Father's dead
And there's nothing to be done.
Do not mount the battlements in my defense
As the race was fairly won.
The kitchen table has not been set...
My chair lies stark and bare.
No one leans against the window sill
To enjoy the good night air.
The wooded trails lie hushed and quiet
Where my thoughts no longer stray.
The geese who consumed my crusted bread
Grow more peckish by the day.
And excuse the Baker if he looks confused
When I am not there to buy his rolls.
And commit to the Ferryman two copper coins
As we all must pay his toll.
And Nature will seem modestly indifferent
As the Sun will rise again.
But remember well this road we've traveled
Where I called you Son and Friend.
Gird yourself against the slings and arrows
And receive my falling torch of deeds undone.
But before you walk the hallowed ground
Be sure to overindulge a little fun.
I weep for those who have not journeyed
Upon the wondrous track to mark our gain.
But with you my Son...who really knows?
We may yet... get to do it all again.
Mortality is lovingly given by the Grace of God
And to its betterment all should strive.
But alas our lives have one primal flaw...
No one here... gets out alive.
With this my spirit soars to celestial heights
So please accept this well-earned death.
And as Son and Friend... we will meet again.
When you partake your final breath.
And be not shy... about my demise
That allows me to walk on Heaven's path.
As only a fool like me would keep a toaster...
In the same room a person takes a bath.
The End
```Pirate Bay the Haiku```
pirates fierce and mean
drowning fish, sea to sea
parrots on their butt
```Polly Wants A Cracker```
bloodthirst & brutal
Quartermaster Gone Wild
dirty wings on deck
```Sea World Adventure```
ship crew goes on strike
sailing the Caribbean
wooden leg splashing
~*~
When my time is done and I am finally laid to rest
I don’t want to be recalled as one who lived life depressed
So as I wrote my will, I chose to leave an instruction
That laughing gas be inhaled by all those at the function
No mournful eulogies will a pastor have to invent
For my funeral will be held under a circus tent
When dozens of clowns emerge from the tiny Volkswagen
Reams of my silly limericks Bozo will be dragin’
And as they’re read aloud, family and friends who knew me best
Will say, “She had a sense of humor, this we can attest.”
Mimes will mimic me trying to write the world’s best novel
As my corpse hangs from the trapeze, surely they will marvel
Laughter will ensue as they shoot me from the cannon
Flying high in my demise across the great Grand Canyon
All the children will smile and there’ll be no tears allowed
So no one will ever remember me as a “dark cloud”
There are people who seem to take life way too seriously
When I meet my Maker, don’t view this as a tragedy
Dad called me his “happy girl,” so let me go out that way
I want to leave them laughing as I reach my judgment day
Date: Written March 26, 2011, entered in contest December 11, 2018
Contest Name: Make Me Actually LOL Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Nina Parmenter
You have all heard I am sure of the three musketeers
The group with the swords not the ones with the funny ears
Reminds me of a joke that right here would apply
There are three kinds of people I tell you no lie
Those who are really quite good at math
And those who are not and that's that
They were the three musketeers but they were four
Their math was bad not three, four and no more
I hope you're all still with me, I'm not trying to be a pest
I need you to follow me because at the end there's a test
There is Casarah
Yeah and hurrah
She is a good ma
Then there is Tim
You should know him
He's tall and trim
And finally there is the kind hearted Jan
From England she's the one with no tan
Coy and demure behind her fancy fan
If you kept count that makes three
Who can argue. You'd have to agree.
Now we have arrived at what I am trying to say
I've just joined them and I quite enjoy sword play
Do you see? I am number four.
I'll just walk through their door.
That makes me the best, the fillet mignon
It turns out that I am frikin' D'Artagnan.