Best Humor Life Poems
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
I can't recall exactly when
Life swung and hit me on my chin
I"m ashamed to say, it knocked me cold
When I came to, I woke up old
While I was out, I had a dream
Of juggling on a balance beam
While jumping hoops, upon one leg
And one wrong move, cost one nest egg
Was it yesterday or the day before
I had it all but wanted more
When days were long and fears were short
Carouse by day, at night cavort
Yesterday, less was more
It must have been the day before
I wish I'd seen life's sucker punch
'cause now my memory's out to lunch
by Daniel Turner
Life has many highways, one needs to travel them all. One highway took me by an old Victorian house, I did hardly recognized her was she really me. Weather~tattered~worn, was I looking into a mirror. As I have gotten older, I think of my body as an old Victorian house. Once pretty and lively, filled with happiness and joy. This old Victorian body now needs repairs: a new roof~new hair do, fresh paint and shutters~lose some weight, the lights need to be turned back on~put more joy into what I do, fix the yard up and get rid of the weeds~some new pretty clothes. My old Victorian house has a new look you see, looking like she did when she was twenty-three.
Date Written: 1/20/2023
4 Place
In Thrall
I’ve scooped plasma from the sun
To cook meals and heat my bath,
Moved Mount Everest just for fun;
None can ever walk my path.
I’ve had dinner on Saturn’s rings,
Kicked the moon like a soccer ball,
Plucked light rays like guitar strings—
I should adorn the walls of great halls.
I’ve swum the depths of every sea,
Journeyed to the center of the Earth,
Drunk molten magma like green tea;
My mind suffers no dearth.
I am the Law, the Order, and the King,
Free! Only to my mind am I in thrall.
I relish the escapes its figments bring,
Finding ways out of my every fall.
I’m a minstrel with an unchained mind
Or some raving loony in sanity’s cloak.
It’s no matter to what you are aligned,
Life is easier if seen, in part, as a joke!
Sept. 23, 2018
Someone said, Hey Christopher
Someone said, “Hey Christopher,
what’s up with all this love
It seems in every poem
that is all you’re thinking of
Why are you always dreaming,
why is it you can’t see
That love is just a legend,
a made up fallacy
The world is filled with evil,
don’t you watch the news
CNN or NBC
or others you can choose
Clinton is a liar,
Trump is just a creep
They’ll both destroy the nation
for fortunes that they reap
Murders by the thousands,
death is in the streets
I can’t believe you haven’t seen
within the many tweets
Our water is polluted,
we’re choking on the air
Hate is growing rapidly,
why are you not aware
Prices through the ceiling,
paychecks in the ground
Protesters are screaming,
you can hear them all around
There’s war in other countries,
servers have been hacked
Innocent bystanders
are caught in the attack
Little kids are crying,
not enough to eat
Begging just to make it,
sleeping in the street
So tell me, will you Christopher,
what’s up with what you write
Every poem filled with love,
morning, noon and night”
I looked at him a moment,
this person I now see
And then replied, “I’m sorry sir,
were you talking to me?
I was writing out a poem
for the one I do adore
I didn’t hear you talking,
could you say it all once more?”
He just walked away shaking his head
one sock
three toes showing
darn it
John G. Lawless
©10/18/2019
I seem to have misplaced my keys
Could you help me find them please?
They’re not in the house, not in the car
I’ve even looked in my guitar
It’s as if they’ve gone, in a big black hole
No, I don’t do parties where they go in a bowl.
Would they, could they be with the remote?
Nope just bloody found that in my coat.
I’ve retrieved socks and toys, some hair ties too,
I think I’m desperate, now my hands in the loo
Maybe they might be, inside the cat
Two ticks with a knife we’ll soon check that.
I’ve just found my credit card, under the bed
What was the wifes bra doing out in the shed?
I must be suffering, from some mental block
Oh what a dork I am, there they are in the lock
Right I’m running late, time to leave home
Now, just where did I, leave my phone?
He had a few drinks the night before,
enough to mistake the waiter for a door.
T'would help him remember
he thought to himself,
the fun to be had in the coming of day.
He'd married a Madame
with her perfumes and pearls,
a painted smile
as he watched her walk
with first one foot
and then the next,
stepping in time to his funeral march.
They'd promised forever in those very same rooms,
with their sad yellow curtains and broken blooms.
This could have been a wedding
there were vows to make-
I, Harold, un-take June as my wife,
for better, not worse,
for richer not poorer.
With his eyes on her profile
he thought to himself
that she'd never looked more radiant
than she did today.
A few odd words and then it was done,
all i's were dotted
and the t's crossed
to pronounce them completely
un-manned and de-wifed.
“Fancy some lunch at The Ritz, my love?"
“Alright then, darling. You drive.”
The Difference of Distance
The difference between adult and a dolt
is that one will stay the other bolt.
submitted to – The TRUE Meaning of Being Adult
sponsor – FJ Thomas
It was a height of 250 metres,
But I wasn’t afraid;
I looked down
And there wasn’t even my shade.
The sun was already jumping
But with a low speed,
“ I can perform better,
I am not going to give the lead.”
Took a deep breath
And I was in air,
Time stopped,
And silence reached there.
The sun began moving upward,
Or I began moving downward,
I was flying,
But like a dead bird.
When from the ground,
I wasn’t really high;
Mind said,“ change in plan,
Let the sun first die”.
From my mother's womb I yelled into the room,
mattress on the living room floor,
my bro I replaced as the youngest, his face
as he screamed and ran out through the door.
I tell you (no fooling) my years of hard schooling
I'll remember as long as I live
Johnny Cash got it right sometimes you gotta fight
but my name isn't Sue, it is Viv.
My first crush was Joy, she beguiled the boys
with her cool attitude and demeanour,
but in the school yard I didn't try very hard
and lost out to Nigel who was keener.
My senior school was a boy's own affair,
all mortarboards, chalkdust and gowns,
atmosphere never placid, like Hogwarts on acid
at home it took hours to come down.
Exams taken and passed and so onwards at last
out into the big wide world of work,
how well did I do at my first interview
I'm surprised that they'd take on a jerk.
After six years of grammar that felt like the slammer
with no females on a daily basis
this place was Nirvana I tried to keep calmer
in this female infested Oasis.
For a short while I waited then finally dated
the friend of a colleague, named Ruth,
wedding plans from her lips, I took fright and jumped ship
I was too immature, that's the truth.
From there my next job for an extra few bob was in warehousing,
driving fork trucks,
stacks of pallets to lift on horrendous night shifts
but to honest I didn't give a hoot.
I was by then resolving with my problem solving
to find me a niche in I.T,
nine to five, air conditioned, needing no permission
to break for a smoke and a tea.
Nine years flew by me and also my family,
my mother began to be ill
I quit work and stayed home, looked after her alone
watching sadly as she went downhill.
She finally went and as was her intent I care for my youngest today,
these trials we have to bear, no-one said life was fair
but I won't have it any other way.
The good lady's poorly and sometimes I'm sorely
being tested, but I keep good cheer,
the days may seem long but I cannot go wrong-
I've got Poetry, music and beer.
For contest 'where are you from', sponsor Joseph Soper
I am tired of making lists for the store, I can't even get out the door. Last year is over and so are my thoughts, I tied them all in knots. I am tired of stinky thinking, so maybe I should take up drinking. My mind has been working overtime, and not on just a new rhyme. My car got a lube and oil, My thoughts need some new planting soil. Mind toss out the old and bring in the new, I refuse to spend this year blue.
Date Written: 1/8/2021
1/10/2021 Poem of the Day win.
I'm a flower tickler
with a flower tickler's thumb
like my dog before me
although he's more of a philanthropist
than a poet, but, like him, I too bark
my greenery of colours when needed
and tickle flowers
hello hot flashes goodbye mad dashes
December 20th, 2018
Where is the great engine of life?
How many mechanics does it take
to keep it running smooth as a baby's bottom?
All those wheels and sockets and spindles ---
must need great care;
The scientists say that if it ever broke down ---
it wouldn't matter!
Its merely made of parts ---
ordered from some non-existent wholesaler ---
the great garage of cells and atoms (now dark matter)
Even the most callous child knows
that great engines do not merely happen,
but are created by great minds...
It seems we must put some of these 'great scientific minds'
into a new category of stupid:
(they would make terrible mechanics)
(A la Carl Sandburg, whom I admire deeply)