Best Humor Society Poems
Airports; people and planes,
Traffic jams and baggage claim.
Noisy, rumbling, to the gate I'm
running.
Looking at the screen for my flight,
Delayed? What is causing this
madness?
Dragging my bags; this way and
that.
Smoking lounge, where are you at?
Find a store, buy a book, gum and
a key-chain.
Drinking coffee, in a hurry, spilling
on my shirt - a stain.
Sigh. Get to gate, sit down, relax
with a napkin. Why stain, why ruin
my day?
All around they are yapping,
howling, and barking.
Making no sense, but they
understand.
Nodding and smiling. Switching
flights they're exhausted.
On the phone, on the laptop, on
the floor doing push-ups.
Need to email, need to talk, need
to connect. Why not send, an SMS?
Smiling, I look around and laugh.
plug in my headphones, pull out
the laptop and connect.
My son is growing a man bun.
I don’t know how big it’ll be when he’s done.
He’s only sixteen you know and at his age it’s fun.
So I’ll just watch but if it gets too big, I’ll have to run.
My son is growing a man bun.
I don’t know how big it’ll be when he’s done.
He’s only sixteen you know and at his age it’s fun.
So I’ll just watch, but if it gets too big, I’ll have to run.
I told him to grow a man beard, a big bushy one, like mine.
But, he tells me that’s not for him as he’ll look like a bum.
What! Is he saying his dad is a bum and dumb?
Well, he’s a kid; he’ll be different when he grows into a man!
While ambling down the boulevard,
I spied a swanky canopy.
As member of the avant-garde,
The classy bistro suited me.
When greeted by the maitre'd,
I nonchalantly said, "Just one."
He smiled and nodded graciously.
My gourmand venture had begun.
As soon as seated, promptly pounced
A waiter dressed in gray and pink.
"My name is Jacques," the man announced
And asked what I prefer to drink.
I ordered an aperitif
And proffered menu then perused.
In panic mode, I thought, "Good grief!
It's all in French. I'm so confused!"
When Jacques returned, with easy air,
I asked what he would recommend.
When he'd advised the bill of fare,
My gaze did then the room attend.
A masterpiece of elegance,
So understated and refined.
No chandeliers nor opulence,
Artistic taste and chic combined.
Came appetizers, quite a few,
And tiny salads, each unique.
With wines and cheeses right on cue,
'Twas gourmet dining at its peak.
For entrees there were perfect meats
With succulence beyond compare.
Then followed some exotic sweets
And coffee quite extraordinaire.
While savoring a fine cigar,
I said their chef deserved to win,
For haute cuisine the best by far,
Another star from Michelin.
When mammoth check was given me,
I calmly said I could not pay.
"Though penniless, you must agree
You've gained a customer today."
Was booted roughly out the door
With expletives obscene and rude.
In gutter prone, a vow I swore
That for assault I'd have them sued.
I did, however, leave a tip
On seventh race next afternoon.
That Jacques should into savings dip
And bet it all on Silver Spoon.
punctured, onward continue to quit decision's to make second guessing a moment ,
wit a wound wide opened by sliding the cold shoulder's lap first but enlightened by composure, intellect wasted misuse's of time the truth withheld to prove ill state vs. denial of a mans prime singled too proud deviating the lost to worship no man who lives under trial.
You walk real low,
knuckles almost scraping the ground
Looking at the sky up high,
scratching your jutting brow bone
You're puzzled by that round thing,
which you can't reach
You don't understand at all,
how it could be so hot
Your belly is on the growl,
telling you it's time to go on a prowl
You like it best when you can hunt
and scavenge what you want to eat
You don't like those crowded dens,
where you can get your food quickly
You're a stone-age man,
you're a neanderthal
You're a soon-to-be extinct man,
because you never learned to evolve
You see the weaker, long-haired kind,
and you hate that you have to wait
until their feeding is done
When what you urgently want to do
is try to mate with each and every one
You wipe your mouth
with the back of your hand
You grunt and belch loud
just like a cave man
You liked it better
when you could take what you see
You felt much freer
when you were swinging from a tree
You're a stone-age man,
you're a neanderthal
You're a soon-to-be extinct man,
because you never learned to evolve
You're like a cave man,
you're a neanderthal
If we had depended on you,
you would've been the death of us all
"You will eat a peck of dirt,
in the time before you die."
That's what my Grandma use to say
and then she informed us why.
"Dirt is Nature's nat'ral way,
better than the doctor's drugs.
Dirt will help your body fight
off all those bad germs and bugs."
Modern moms will have a fit
when their kids get filthy, black.
They don't stop to realize
it prevents those germs' attack.
Knick Knack Paddy Whack
Can’t take back a wisecrack
If you wanna be a crackerjack
Earn a greenback from blackjack
Gotta buyback your backpack
Need to blister pack your flapjacks
Evident ebbing of drawbacks
Raises the bar for the sad sacks
The good life, so Kodak
So long as you don’t sidetrack
Selfie people hide in haystacks
Hoarding their golden tie tacks
Shall we ponder how to give back
Go beyond the dusty knickknack
Respect deserves a worthy payback
Not a flimsy whimsy kickback
Society requests a comeback
I stood….transfixed, reading the boldly painted warning
…DON’T TURN AROUND – YOU ARE NOT ALONE
©4/7/2023
.
just
used about
three gallons of
water rinsing out a
yogurt pot just so it
could go in the
recycling
bin
.
Some say that our people
will never, ever get along,
that skin is our ‘identity,’
that old, bigoted song.
Some must always be victims,
and others will oppress,
the groups A, B, C are awful,
but D, E, F are best.
I don’t care much for that,
but one thing is clear,
taking home Shanise tonight,
so wingman, hold my beer.
Others cry technology
is destined to stagnate,
that another dark age
we should anticipate.
They say we don’t innovate,
our minds are growing dim,
they rightly point out failures
enforced by government.
But I saw the private rocket fly,
brought me nearly to tears,
I’ll get to space so kindly
shut up, and hold my beer.
Many of the academics
say that the glories past
can never be equaled,
and teach post-modern trash.
Disregard for story-tellers
is their latest theme,
thinking to find greatness
with no plot or strong leads.
That’s what they’re resigned to,
there are no more Shakespeares,
the creative mind smirks and
says,”Buddy, hold my beer.”
Loud voices say religion
is unenlightened clap-trap,
then they cannot figure out
why more young men snap.
They say prayer is backwards,
a superstitious lie,
that is serves no purpose,
has outlived its time.
But the Big Man told me
to tell you loud and clear
that you should look to your soul,
and also, hold His beer.
All across this hard Earth
they say we are doomed,
our flaws are overwhelming,
the end if coming soon.
Trendy are the misanthropes,
be they green or ivory,
they celebrate failure,
rationalize misery.
Acting as if it’s all done,
there are no more frontiers,
but human will doesn’t quit,
step back, and hold my beer.
Health care standards
are climate care constants
and resilient variables.
Health care giving and receiving constants
across cultures and diverse species
of plant and animal,
and perhaps even mineral, lifespans,
each and all declare
mentoring mutual health is positive,
between ego-center
and eco-exterior,
Yang and bilateral, or even multilateral, Yin,
squared and cubed
and fractal and octaves
of resilient variable sounds
and light,
space and changing interdependent times.
And absence of Golden Rule
mutual health wealth resilience,
is both climate eco-exterior
and landscape ego-uncentering
pathology.
So,
if health care and receiving
is ecopolitically good for One,
it is therefore resiliently good for All,
regardless of age,
species,
animal or plant lifespans
of ecopolitical
and psychological
health care constant development
across resiliently diverse multigenerations.
Ultimately,
health care systems,
like climate care systems
and cooperative networks,
from and form single nondual co-arising payer systems
of regenerative cooperation,
interdependently resilient
EarthTribe Elder co-investors
in pay-wealth-forward priorities
of WinWin 0-sum principles
like Gaia Hypotheses
cooperating in bilateral BiCameral Minds
with HealthCare Giving and Receiving
mutually loving interdependent YinMinds
with YangBodies,
or equivalent paradigmatic currencies
and exchange rates.
There's plenty of empty
Shelves and pantries
The streets weep for missing feet
Crowds of clouds float and gloat
Mocking our lot, as they mingle and flock
Oh, the lords of hoard now run the board
Going by social media shifts
Toilet paper's now the sought-after gift
One can't use scanty panties
To clean your fanny's nooks and crannies
In this sparse farce
The walls grow small
Under the strain
To remain sane
Our horizons turn on spaces burned
My dear, it is with love I say
I can't miss you
If you can't go away.
3/28/20
For 'A-Muse-Sing' poetry contest
Sponsor: Richard Lamoureux
Be prepare like the busy ants
store food for any catastrophic event
From famine, war, or worse yet
being run by a democrat
Have guns and ammo and medical supplies
but the word to the wise
Emergency food row after row
in time of crisis your families hero
Cans of corn and cans of beans
cans of darn near anything
A can of this and a can of that
even cans of old lard fat
Flour and white rice
a ton or two would suffice
A source of water keep it clean
better get those pounds and pounds of dry beans
Dehydrated veggies and fruits
powder milk , eggs and cheese
Can ham can spam can meats of all
and a can opener or two please
Everything sealed and safe
everything labeled dated and in place
Twenty five years it'll last
before the expiration date does pass
Don't forget coffee and tea
lots of white sugar and honey
Dry herbs some salt and pepper too
for a real prepper there is never enough food
And when a crisis does come
you'll have enough to feed your love ones
While others like lazy grasshopper starve
you'll be safe underground eating large
Oh you pitiful copycat,
fake accounts you’re getting fat;
Polluting my shadow Spam,
you can’t be who I am;
That’s a dead person’s photograph.
Ah Epstein Files, who’s who of naughty names
Making life come good at resorts with dames.
But I’m disappointed
For not making the grade
Among some biggest guns that play such games
And make some rare headlines
Hard for poetic lines,
Whatso open fame’s gate is free from shames,
No evidence of guilt
Is no proof of no guilt,
A top gun legal authority claims.
___________________________________
Happenings | 15.02.2026 | fame, name, shame, humour, society, world
Note: More and more Big Names get linked to Epstein. Trump and Musk, two famous Bills, actors, linguists, and even motivational maestros. Poets? Not sure, but here‘s my chance as the only unknown name. As the needle of suspicion comes closer home, this is what this pen-pusher hopes.