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Best Humorous Poems | Poetry

Below are the all-time best Humorous poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of humorous poems written by PoetrySoup members

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New Humorous Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Humorous poems are below this new poems list.

'Kimmy's Bliss 2' - More Humorous Adds by Johnston, Brian
The Humorous Side To My Country Life by Hoose, Mary
Local Observations: Humorous or Otherwise by Crisis, Dialectic
Both Sides Now humorous satire by Mudge, John
Guido's Humorous Laughter by Crisci, Andrew
Humorous A's by NeeChan, Onna
Whimsy was a humorous hen by CHAKRABARTY, RAJAT KANTI
A HUMOROUS GROWL by Walker , Verlena S.
Humorous Tribute to Three Soupers by bunch, wayland
FREE CEE one or two of the six people who will read this might find it humorous by cohan, jeffry

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The Best Humorous Poems

Details | Humorous Poem | Create an image from this poem.

AT THE FOOTBRIDGE - LIMERICK COLLABORATION

At the footbridge Sue was meeting her beau (He was married to a woman called Flo) Sue soon found out his deception She dismembered his ******** For his love life it was a massive blow To the hospital fled poor Rodger For an op to repair his todger Now fixed, it's SO big Rodger grunts like a pig in **** films as Rodger the lodger Inspired by but not for contest BY JAN ALLISON 7~18~16 He promised Flo he never would leave her And she would be his only receiver But she caught him with Sue And his chances were through Gnawing off wood when he neared her beaver WRITTEN BY TIM SMITH Sue castrated that cheating deceiver With one whack of her meat cleaver she pulled a Lorena Bobbit turned Rodger into a Hobbit Sue's now known as an "overachiever" WRITTEN BY MARTI SUTHERLAND Across the table sits sweet Amee Once A Roger, before he became a she The master of infidelity So many personalities Before and after he became an amputee.. WRITTEN BY SKAT A He was known as a terrible stoner With a huge un-deflatable ***** It now sits in a jar At the end of the bar A reminder to all of its owner... WRITTEN BY JOHN LAWLESS It’s become a tourist attraction As a symbol of female subtraction Grannies sneak in for a peek Everyday of the week Dreaming of former of love action. WRITTEN BY MARK WOODS Oh how sad that pork missile should be unemployed but for all there to see if science, in a jiffy can rejuvenate stiffys then the first in the queue would be me! WRITTEN BY VIV WIGLEY Flo wanted to give Sue a high five For slicing Rodger with all his jive A two timing fool Who broke every rule Now lil Rodger don't work in overdrive WRITTEN BY ALEXIS Y Rodger's story has been immortalized For having his thingy circumcised It's on display in a bar Now hanging in a jar While it's slowing becoming crystalized WRITTEN BY MARTI SUTHERLAND As she ponders on what to eat Hopefully, it won’t be red meat For there on the log Is Rodger's hot dog So she gets excited and jumps off her feet. WRITTEN BY WINGED WARRIOR There's a lesson I really must blurt To all those blokes out chasing some 'skirt' When you're on heat Don't share your meat 'Cause your todger might really get hurt! WRITTEN BY MARK WOODS Poor forgotten noteworthy Sue Looking so gloomy she blew At the pickled todger once belonging to Rodger kissing good times its last adieu WRITTEN BY EVE ROPER As "Rodger" snaked out of the door It went past a room on tenth floor. A woman therein Said "Come right on in." she kept screaming, "More, I want more! WRITTEN BY ANDREA DIETRICH After Sue chopped his tally-whacker Poor Rodger became quite the slacker He tried to bring his pecker forth Never again to be pointing north Now when he pees he sits on the crapper. He stopped at the house, the red-light was on Knocked on the door, the girls were all gone Stuck with his sawed-off ***** Tonight He's going to be a loner Damn, why did the girls all have to be gone? BOTH POEMS WRITTEN BY JAMES ANDERSEN A group of limericks quite clever Began with one simple sever Of engorged ***** which is, (between us), I think, a spicy endeavor WRITTEN BY H PENELOPE SWIFTLOCK There was perfection in his pecker, as a **** star he was a wrecker, but to his wife he was unfair, so she severed what was down there, now his only job is director. WRITTEN BY CASARAH NANCE Poor Rodger thought he was being slick when he carved out a handcrafted prick he rubbed his new attire his precious toy caught fire Now he is left with an ashen stick WRITTEN BY TEPPO GREN An ashen stick means man minus prick. Poor Rodger, now a eunuch, without a fix. He decided to become a transgender. Then off he went on a bender. Woke up married to a man from Bertrix WRITTEN BY JEAN MURRAY Rodger's new love was a prudish fox but for brains she had a head of rocks he splinted up his willy popsicle sticks look silly he said it was new and still in the box! WRITTEN BY SONNY ROPER (EVE'S HUBBY) To be fair "At the Footbridge" Now to be completely fair And to stop every persons stare Rodger was not actually circumcised As he was a player, so don’t be surprised This was from wear and tear and his willingness to share WRITTEN BY MARK PAUL VAN DER MERWE Now Rodger mostly stays home for lack of a viable bone. He reaches by habit down for his rabbit: he's got Phantom Willy Syndrome! WRITTEN BY DALE GREGORY COZART Rodger was a good friend of Eye Had a real hankering for cherry pie Tasted every chance he got And it would hit the spot Until his crazy wife made him cry WRITTEN ON 14TH JUNE BY EYE TRUTH TELLER Roger pretends that he's a sexy stud But when the ladies find out he's a dud they all laugh in his face anatomically a disgrace His manhood is referred to as "The Bud" WRITTEN ON 15TH JUNE BY LIN LANE Rodger thought his op was a success When he found he had more and not less But the surgeon's blind stunt Sewed it on back to front Well, he certainly lacks some finesse! WRITTEN ON 15TH JUNE BY RAY GRIDLEY As he crossed the footbridge, Georgie saw a duck Quite unique and raucous, it could quack AND cluck! (And did so incessantly) "Hey! Hey! It's all about me!" It loudly proclaimed, with much aplomb and pluck WRITTEN BY LIM'RIK FLATS
I also wrote another poem but this one did not turn into a collaboration - if you read it you will see that it is quite different to my usual style https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/at_the_footbridge__2_822879


Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2016


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To all the heart breakers -a ZOMBIE's valentine

Wouldn't you rather~

Wouldn't you rather be dead?
Maybe shoot yourself in the head?
Over my dead heart, I'd never want to be a zombie like you.
The sight of your limbs are rotten all the time.
All synonyms say of you looks like a 3 legged swine.
Go ahead and do us all a favor, 
hide and stash yourself away from all your neighbor. 
I think I'd rather have my eyes stuck with glue
So I won't have to look at you
When it comes to family friends, you ain't got none.
You're always gonna be called the lonely retarded one.
Who could ever love a face like yours.
not even your mother see's pass your gores 
No need for privacy when you pee
Go ahead and take a leak and drown yourself in the sea.
Don't think for one second you are irresistible 
Love making with a zombie is impossible.

Wouldn't you rather be dead?
maybe shoot yourself in the head

The time to kill yourself is at hand.
Slicing your wrist is what we recommend.  
Cut your tongue off, don't want to hear you squeal.   
Blood all over, your face is no big deal
A sword or machete will only pick up the pace
I wanna see your guts pop out your mid-waist 
Contaminated objects is a must
Anything to remove your face of disgust.
The easy part is the best
Once you are gone we will all feel blessed,
The flaw of your existence  
Is what keeps us all in distance 

Wouldn't you rather be dead?
maybe shoot yourself in the head

Close your eyes and die
No one wants to hear you cry
You said you wanted to be loved
believe me~ you're better off unloved
I say do yourself off
Anyways you've always had it rough...
Go ahead and scream
This is not a dream
Now see how you make me feel
All I want is for you to end your ugly ordeal.
I will praise this day of course
Knowing soon you'll be a rotting corpse.

happy valentine ~ TO: All My DEADBEAT X-es from Texas.


Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2012


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POOR PETER PUMPKIN

Poor Peter Pumpkin had a very itty bitty head.
So the farmer made him stay inside the garden bed.

The farmer said that he was going to keep him warm with hay.
And there the itty bitty pumpkin stayed for many a day.

Finally, the farmer came to check upon poor Peter,
measured him and then exclaimed, “You’ve grown an extra meter!

I think it’s time for you to finally go and face the world.”
Peter got up from his bed. He twirled and twirled and twirled!

“My,” the farmer shouted, “You’ve grown two legs with feet!
You’re a special pumpkin. My daughters you must meet!”

Poor Peter heaved his hefty bulk, waddling away,
following behind the farmer so he would not stray.

They traveled rather quickly, and soon they reached the house.
The daughters saw the pumpkin and grew quiet as a mouse.

The silence lasted just until at last one daughter spoke,
“A pumpkin with two legs? Is this some kind of joke?”

Her father knelt beside her and whispered in her ear,
“Do not be afraid, my child. You’ve not a thing to fear.

We can carve a lantern. It will be your Halloween treat.
Then we can make lots of pumpkin pies for us to eat."

Peter trembled with a chill to hear their horrid plan.
Jumping out the door, he yelled, “Catch me if you can!”

He ran into the pastures. Then he tumbled down a hill.
As  he rolled he bumped into the couple, Jack and Jill!

“Oh dear me,” cried Peter, “I do not wish to be
a lantern for this Halloween. Please, can you guys help me!”

Jack and Jill then led him to the land of Nursery Rhymes.
His sad fate has now been told to children many times.

For he ran across a man named Peter Pumpkin EATER.
Maybe you can guess now what became of our poor Peter!

10~12~14
Contest: Halloween Co-Writes
Sponsor: Diane Locksley
Written By Jan Allison & Andrea Dietrich
~awarded 1st place~


Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2014


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Playing Human

Introducing: Nate & Linda

The smile on my lips
is forced and coerced
I pretend to pay attention
give the best possible advice
everyone praises me
I'm so kind, polite and nice
It's all just automation
I rarely actually listen
certainly don't care
all I'm doing
is playing human
blending in
fitting in
I'm so perfectly hidden
you'll never even
see a curtain, 
   from where I stand
   Majoring in social events
   Put on a pedestal
   for computing with you
   I'm so perfectly hidden 
   smiling from time to time
   Labeling those 
   with all sincerity
   open soldiery  
   Passing along an appeal
   continuing to fit in
   blend in
   pretend
   force program 
   Is it just me or
   am I the perfect human?

~A Poet Destroyer Collaboration~


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015


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I Knitted You A Scarf

Listen to poem:
                           
   
                            
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                            IKNITTEDAWINTERSCARF
                            ALARGEINTRICATECASH
                            MEREFANCYPANTSGENT
                            LEMANJIMKINDOFNECKC
                            LOTHESPEOPLEWEARARO
                            UNDTHEIRPREVIOUSLYNA
                            KEDSKINBETWEENTHEIRH
                            EADSANDTHEIRSHOULDER
                            SWHICHREALLYCOUNTSIF
                            YOULIVEINABELOWZERO
                             WEATHERCITYWITHAFREE
                               ZINGCOLDATMOSPHERE
                              THATWILLMAKEYOURTE
                              ETHCLATTERANDCLINKMA
                              KINGSOUNDSTHATWOUL
                              DRATTLEEVENTHOSEWIT
                              HTHESTEADIESTOFNERVES
                              THETYPEWITHTHOSESTRO
                               NGJAWSTHATPOTRUDEBE
                               YONDTHEIRFACESANDDRI
                                VEFATBOYHARLEYMOTOR
                               CYCLESANDCOULDCRUSH
                                YOUWITHJUSTALOOKFROM
                                 WHERETHEIREYESSITONTH
                                EIRVISAGEWHICHISASTRANG
                                 EWORDTOUSEHERESINCEITH
                                 INK"VISAGE"ISONEOFTHOSE
                                 SOPHISTICATEDWORDSOFFR
                                ENCHORIGINWHICHISNOTARA
                                WCOUNTRYTYPESLANGKINDO
                                 FWORDWHICHWOULDBEMUCH
                                  MOREAPPROPRIATEFORBIKEM
                                  ANANAMEICOINEDMYSELFFOR
                                  MARKWHOTURNSOUTTOBEAN
                                 UNEXPECTEDLYKINDGUYWHO
                                  TURNSOUTSUITSTHEWORDVI
                                  SAGEINFACTONEWITHAGREATS
                                   MILETHATOCCASIONALLYPOPS
                                    UPONMARKSFACEIACTUALLYE
                                    VENGAVEHIMTHESCARFASAGIFT
                                     (PAUSE)(2)(3)(4)ASWELLASMYW
                                     ALLETMYCARKEYSMYCREDITCA
                                      RDSMYPINNUMBERSMYWATCH
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THE CASHMERE WOOL I USED TO KNIT A SCARF I knitted a winter scarf, a large intricate Cashmere fancy pants, Gentleman Jim kind of neck clothes people wear around their previously naked skin between their heads and their shoulders which really counts if you live in a below zero weather city with a freezing cold atmosphere that will make your teeth clatter and clink making sounds that would rattle even those with the steadiest of nerves. The type with those strong jaws that protrude beyond their faces and drive FatBoy Harley motorcycles and could crush you with just a look from where their eyes sit on their visage which is a strange word to use here since I think "visage" is one of those sophisticated words of French origin which is not a raw country type slang kind of word which would be much more appropriate for bike man a name I coined myself for Mark who turns out to be an unexpectedly kind guy the type it turns out suits the word visage in fact one with a great smile that occasionally pops up on Marks face I actually even gave him the scarf as a gift (pause) (2)(3)(4), as well as my wallet my car keys, my credit cards, my pin numbers, my watch...


Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2016


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THE MALE MENOPAUSE - please feel free to join in the collaboration

Ted’s libido has now gone astray He refused a quick roll in the hay So what could be the cause - It’s the male menopause He’s been grumpy and snappy all day! His testosterone levels have dropped Many Viagra pills he has popped He drops one in his tea It will keep his cookie Standing up straight whenever it flopped By jingo, Ted’s put on so much weight It’s not down to the lunches he ate His once perfect tush Has now turned to mush Ted should diet before it’s too late His middle aged paunch has been spreading Can’t fit in the suit from his wedding He once was so hot Now he’s gone to pot And now I hear he wets his bedding Ted’s developing male breasts, I see So I renamed them "moobies," tee hee They stick out so far He needs a 'man bra' If measured - he’d be bigger than me! Ted’s losing all the hair on his head (It’s sprouting from his nostrils instead) With long hairs in his ear Poor Ted can hardly hear And he braids it when he goes to bed BY JAN ALLISON 8/4/18 Mister T has trouble finding his ding dong I have to laugh even though I know it's wrong He's nothing but a wimp Now that his parts are limp Bet he knows where it all started to go wrong WRITTEN BY LIN LANE Ted is anxiously awaiting his date A beautiful blond he met out of state took blue pills from his pocket to help rev up his rocket but he wonders if she would rather wait WRITTEN BY TANIA KITCHIN "I'm so sorry". Apologised Ted To his wife, as they lay in their bed It's not you that's the cause It's that male menopause "Do you fancy a cocoa instead". WRITTEN BY RICHARD D SEAL Well the doc said “you need exercise”, So it’s football today with the guys, Roger yells “on me head!” “Well I could do,” says Ted, “What’s the point though, when everything dies?” WRITTEN BY NINA PARMENTER That male menopause can be iffy, do more than just cost you your stiffy. You've no more will to jerk; it's just way to much work, but you'll write new haiku in a jiffy! WRITTEN BY DALE GREGORY COZART Ted had a problem didn't know the cause his mate told him it's the manopause advised him to see Bill to purchase a blue pill Bill said this will amuse her indoors Ted asked his wife not to sneer or mock when he told her it was such a shock he had tried a blue pill to give her a big thrill worked too well its now a stumbling block. WRITTEN BY ROY PETT She burst into the room and caught Ted lying naked, aroused on the bed thought that she was the reason that he was now 'in season' not brochures for a new garden shed WRITTEN BY VIV WIGLEY There a was guy named Ted,that was cool He would make all the young ladies drool Now he’s married and limp And he resembles a blimp The “lift” tanked and the Mrs thinks his a fool WRITTEN BY ALEXIS Y The male menopause caught up with old Ted He's no longer the stallion in bed But now he takes a little pill Before he goes in for the kill Now his poor wife just lays there full of dread WRITTEN BY TOM CUNNINGHAM Ted used to be good in the sack. `Til he started smoking that crack. Now his wife`s had enough and she`s left in a huff and picked up a spare with Jack. WRITTEN BY CHARLIE KNOWLTON His wife asked, "Ted what's the cause" He replied, "tis the male menopause, I was embarrassed to mention It won't stand to attention" I'm afraid you've been clutching at straws." WRITTEN BY GARY SMITH Ted loved his "kit-and-kaboodle", Kept it clipped like a champion poodle But a glitch in his gland ... Meant the thing wouldn't stand So it hung from his gut ... like a noodle. WRITTEN BY GREGORY R BARDEN
IF YOU WANT TO JOIN IN THE FUN PLEASE SOUP MAIL ME ANY POEMS TO BE ADDED


Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2018


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Just Desserts

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I was at my favourite restaurant and had a lovely meal If I finished all my food then a pudding was the deal I’d relished every morsel and was pleased as a Cheshire cat The dessert menu was on its way, Oh I couldn’t wait for that The waitress brought the menus and I rubbed my hands with glee Oh sticky toffee pudding, now that’s the one for me She came to take the order – we had waited as you do She finally turned to me and said ‘oh Madam what can I get you’ Oh stiffy cockie pudding please was my swift reply I didn’t realise what I’d said till I saw the tears form in her eye I went as red as a beetroot and the others began to laugh At my spoonerism which turned into a complete gaffe The pudding it came quickly but I couldn’t wait to leave I choked on every mouthful and my stomach it did heave So please take notice of my error on this horrendous day If you order sticky toffee pudding be careful what you say! My favourite rhyming poem contest Sponsored by Laura Loo 2/2/14 This is a true experience! The waitress was a student at the school I work at - I was so pleased when she went to university - I have never ordered this dessert since! This is a very special poem to me as it was my first one posted on soup and i love the humour in it. The first poem I wrote was a sad one called 'Splendid Isolation' but I wanted to be known for my humour . Just Desserts was published in a book by United Press which was a massive boost to a novice writer.


Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2014


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JAN ALLISON has a Fan

JAN HAS A FAN


Jan Has no Tan

I once saw a gal called Jan
So sexy she made me ran
Straight to the vicar
Said marry us quicker
Whilst she drank her tea on the can


She is as White as pure Sand

I once met a gal in white dress
I fell straight in love I must confess
She was drinking her tea
While I stared at her knee
Surely my intentions she guessed


She Sips Her Tea Daily

I once met a gal drinking Tea
My heart was pumping in glee
From her nose to her toes
When she smiled I froze
So charming I become a devotee

While I Admire Her so Gayly

When I saw the lady in the white dress
My thoughts she I did undress
As she gazed out the window
She caught peeking Jimbo
Who was in quite the state of distress


I am a fan of the great poet Jan

There once was a gal who could fart
She refined it into an art
Her white dress in a breeze
Would lift till you sneeze
But she’ll always be my sweetheart




Notes: I just realized the title, as far as Jan is concerned , well could have a double meaning!


Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016


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GREEN WITH ENVY

Envious Ivy was her name I’d buy something new – she’d put me to shame My designer coat in a shade of emerald green Ivy bought an identical one just to be mean She was the most terrible copycat See your purchase and say ‘oh I fancy one like that’ If I got a new car you could guarantee Ivy would get the same just to copy me She was like a shadow that just wouldn’t leave If I had a great idea then Ivy would thieve The copying went on for many many years I got so fed up with it I'd end up in tears Imitation is said to be a great form of flattery Ivy was so jealous she should have lived in a cattery I recently heard that Ivy had passed away Do I have plans to copy her … NO WAY! Contest:It’s Spring – Show Me Green – Francine Roberts 03~25~15


Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2015


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AND THEN I KISSED HIM - COLLABORATION WITH TIM SMITH

Hot date
Can’t wait

We're at
My flat

Cute eyes
Nice thighs

Admit
She’s fit

So sweet
Must eat

We dine
Sublime

First Kiss
Sheer bliss

Soft peck
On neck

Tongue's twirl
Toes curl

First base
Hearts race

Undressed
Bare breast

Blimey
She’s ‘HE’

No joy
Ladyboy

Fussy
Pussy

Night ends
As friends

Written by Jan Allison & Tim Smith
28th August 2014


Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2014


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Doggy Style

The eighties set fashion on fire,
That’s why it’s the look I desire!
So I’ve nailed it, long-term,
With a hot poodle perm,
Just like Brian May, Cher and Mariah.

Showed my stylist a photo of Whitney
She went ever so pale very quickly,
She got acid and bleach,
Three big drumfuls of each,
And some creosote. “Yes!” I cried, “Hit me!”

She slathered me, crisped me like crazy,
I said, “Hold up the mirror! Amaze me!”
And - woohoo and way-hay!
I was Jennifer Grey,
Ripe ‘n’ ready to woo Patrick Swayze!

But then - it all got rather strange,
For my poodle perm started to change, 
Seems its poodle-dog mind
Was not noble or kind -
It was dirty, debauched and deranged!

My friends weren’t impressed. They’d cry “Wowzers!”
As my perm tried to dry-hump their trousers,
It would steal all their shoes,
Roll in animal poos -
I was banned from their elegant houses.

But soon they were howling with laughter,
It would jump in the lake - I’d go after!
Chasing kitties for kicks,
Going crazy for sticks,
My new perm was a doggy disaster! 
 
It would seek other perms! It would spot em,
Bound up close, and then sniff round their bottom!
This all got me in trouble,
With Bon Jovi’s double,
Who called the police, which was rotten. 

So now I’m awaiting the chop,
Down at “Woofterz”, the dog-grooming shop.
Well, I’ll no longer feel,
Like a smokin’ Brooke Shields,
But at least all the lawsuits will stop!


6 May 2018
For Maureen McGreavy’s Contest “Tiger Lilies, Dandelions and Bearberries Oh My!”





Copyright © Nina Parmenter | Year Posted 2018


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Plato and Socrates

Dramatic prose for the pompous asses
I throw my Platos at you
If you come any closer
I will Socrates you right in the nose
Demands, demands!!!! The clowns now have demands?
I say, rise up oh poets of the infinite dot universe
Proclaim the revolution a new
Justify our fight with words wrapped in doo doo
When I see a condescending donkey trip on his verbatim
I laughs cause I know he will fall into Satan's den
I am at eleven, usually a sober man
I carry my saber high and shout "Ekphrasis I don’t give a bloody damn"
Infinite ............................ Universe


Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2015


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Cas Tim Jan And Me

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.


Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2014


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The King of Sanctimonious

The King of Sanctimonious
Perched high upon his throne-ious
Clothed in purple pious-ness
Admired his own self-righteous-ness

The Queen of Sanctimonious
Tired of the King's baloney-ous
When he counts his hoards of money
To him, sweeter than his honey

In a court that wasn't courteous
The Queen cried, "you're oblivious!"
But he wasn't aware, nor did he care
He'd become a Royal hypocrite

Day after day, he counted each coin
The ritual put a flutter in his groin
Reveling in his Royal room
Soon became his tomb of gloom

The Royal epitaph was no baloney-ous
When the king was found
 'Tis said he drowned
In a fermented bottle of loneliness




Copyright © Karen Anglesey | Year Posted 2013


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VINCENT VAN GOGH

Vincent van Gogh** Sliced his left ear off Only one painting did Van Gogh sell - maybe he didn’t hear the doorbell! The only painting Van Gogh sold during his lifetime was Red Vineyard at Arles **Based on the European pronunciation of the name which is Van Goff! 05~30~15 Entered into Premiere contest #11 sponsored by Skat A


Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2015


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BEACH FOOTLES COLLABORATION

Hot sun What fun Soft sand How grand Blue sea For me High tide Surf side Beach babe In shade Undress Top less No finds Tan lines Swim suit… pursuit He sports Tight shorts Romance? No chance Jan Allison Casarah Nance 1st December 2014


Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2014


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A Tribute to a Major Appliance

Sub-titled: What’s in YOUR Fridge?

Please allow me to introduce myself:
My name is Ms. Fridge A. Daire
I stand tall among my lesser cohorts
and MOST of them really look up to me

However, I have two problems:
First, I’m FED UP with my owner
He's always opening my door
reaching deep inside (Oooh yeah!)
helping himself to my goodies
without EVER cleaning me out
or scrubbing me from top to bottom
Doesn’t he know a woman has NEEDS?

Then there’s that stupid stove next to me
who’s constantly flirting and making passes
Says he wants to ‘warm me up’ and ‘defrost’ me
bragging that I’ve ‘got the hots’ for him
which absolutely makes my Freon boil!
Of course, I always give him the cold shoulder
by freezing him with my famous icy stare
and responding, “Simmer down Four-Eyes"
or “I don’t date shorter appliances"
But he’s always cooking up something else...

So I asked my owner to move me to another spot
He said he would if I wasn’t so heavy...HEAVY?
What kind of thing is THAT to say to a lady?
He also claims there’s no other place to plug me
PLUG me? Who does he think I am anyhow?
I found it quite crude and vulgar! ANYWAY...
I suggested an extension cord and he blew a fuse!
Geez, no wonder he’s still single...





  


Copyright © Tim Ryerson | Year Posted 2015


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MARY IN THE DAIRY

A curvaceous lady named Mary Just loved having sex in the dairy When smothered with whipped cream Her beau would lick her clean… His Calorie intake was scary!!! 14th June 2016


Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2016


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In Lieu of the Rodeo

	Oh cripes I’ve gotta tell yer of a horror ride I had,
	That beat any bronc or bull I’ve rode, and I must say I’m glad,
	I’ll never have to ride like that, again to hold me seat.
	Now rodeo is ‘kiddies’ stuff compared to what I beat.  

	I’d been knockin’ ‘round the circuit an’ was headin’ to the ‘Hill’.
	I was lookin’ out for action ‘cause I had some time to kill,
	So I called to see a mate o’ mine, an’ he turned on a spree,
	But grog, peanuts and pickled onions don’t agree with me.

	I s’pose it was ‘round midnight, I stirred in his shearers hut.
	I woke up hearing grumblin’ an’ it was comin’ from me gut,
	So I thought I better visit the house that’s up the back.
	Me head was pretty ‘woosy’ an’ it was a wobbly track.

	But I settled down to do the job contented on the throne;
	Suddenly the still was broke an’ trees began to moan,
	The flamin’ breeze began to roar into a mighty squall,
	An’ branches broke, an’ iron crashed against the dunny wall.

	The dunny started moving and was leaning to one side,
	Just like the chute gate opened and I’m goin’ for a ride,
	One second I was bolt upright, and now I’m on me head,	
	I was clinging on a winner, and then we hit the shed.

	The dunny spun a circle and the dunny roll shot free,
	An' wrapped itself around me neck an’ damn near strangled me.
	Bloody redbacks started flying from their secret hidin’ place,
	An' I reckon that a hundred were clingin’ to me face.

	Then a resident old taipan who’d been dozing in the rafter
	Was flamin’ blamin’ me for this creation of disaster,
	It was snapping in the turmoil at me hands and at me feet,  
	But let me tell you hear and now. I held on to that seat.

	For nothing on this flamin’ earth would ever get to throw,
	Me from this position, ‘cause I know what’s down below,
	So when the twisting dunny bounced off a coupla’ trees,
	I had me ankles ‘round me ears and me head between me knees.

	Even then above the din I could hear the constant hum,
	From a hundred thousand blowflies bouncing off me bum.
	But let me tell you once again, it’ll be a mighty feat,
	For just one of them blowies to get past me on the seat.

	An' then just like it started, the wind subsided in the night,
	But I’m further up the track in the dunny back upright.
	I’m battered, bruised and bitten, still clinging to the seat,
	So at the rodeo ‘tomorra’… I’ll still be smelling sweet. 



Copyright © Lindsay Laurie | Year Posted 2015


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This Is Jack

Yesterday I saw a very creepy mouse, Sneaking right through my front door, He was wearing tails and a top black hat And dragging a large suitcase too When he saw me, he run inside, And past me he sped so fast, Into the kitchen he went in, To a tiny hole, with suitcase and all I tried everything, to flushed him out, From the hole just as fast. I played him music extremely loud; And even called him on his cell phone So I ordered him some cheese pizza, Provolone and jack cheese by the pound, And placed it close, for him to come out and eat, But...he grabbed with him in a flash An email he sent me later on, In which this certain note,to me he wrote: "This's Jack,thank you,for giving me more food, Now I can stay with you, for another three years. Dorian Petersen Potter aka ladydp2000 copyright@2005 October,19,2014


Copyright © Dorian Petersen Potter | Year Posted 2014


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OOPS - IT'S A BIT OF A COCK UP

Ted enjoys a quick roll in the hay... He’s sleeping with his buxom P A She confirmed she’s with child Ted baulked, then got quite riled I wonder what his wife’s got to say! 5/26/18


Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2018


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HE'S MR KNOW IT ALL - NOW A COLLABORATION

Old blabber mouth gets on my wick His attitude makes me quite sick He plays to the crowd Is brash and so loud My husband thinks he's an idiot! Inspired by Stevie Wonder Song on the Radio today - He's Misstra know it all' WRITTEN BY JAN ALLISON Impolite blabber mouths and know it alls completely ignore rules and protocols nasty comments they impart from the pit of a black heart Jackasses like that should be kept in stalls From that mouth erupts volcanic dribble He taunts with words until there's a quibble But runs with tucked tail With a cry and a wail! When he's bitten with more than a nibble WRITTEN BY LIN LANE His ego keeps growing up top Mouths opinion not gonna stop No poet nor bard He's such a blow hard Can't wait for his bubble to pop WRITTEN BY TIM SMITH A video was made for a surprise party. Each person, including children, pretending to spoil the surprise. Weebles were a type of toy. Little people that would wobble and not fall down. HERE is the limerick: Who can stand them, blabbermouths in the know? Watch those weebles wobble and watch them go! Wee foibles whisper into ears. It’s for a surprise party, dears. Acting their parts, turns out it’s all for show! WRITTEN BY Kim Rodrigues © 7/2/2018 If your “wit” doesn’t get you that far, And all you’ve got’s blah blah blah blah, I’ll give you advice Cos I’m terribly nice... If you zip it, we’ll all shout “hurrah!” WRITTEN BY NINA PARMENTER There's nothing more infuriating than a know it all Who loves nothing more than to make you look small But its so lovely when they come up Against someone who knows their stuff And like old Humpty Dumpty they have a great fall WRITTEN BY TOM CUNNINGHAM He always sings the same boring song With a foot in his mouth, and a thong He thinks he knows it all But I will make him fall Let me google it and prove him wrong WRITTEN BY TEPPO GREN He talks fast and has a huge head I’m sure he thinks of “bull” in bed His words are empty He gets no sympathy That’s all I have to say, enough said WRITTEN BY ALEXIS Y I once met a man from Peru Who said he knew better than you He was a huge phony And full or balony He knew nothing, that he thought he knew WRITTEN BY CHARLES MESSINA I once knew a man from Brazil A know it all with looks that could kill once he opened his mouth it was like a babbling spout He was no longer much of a thrill WRITTEN BY TANIA KITCHIN His horse races wearing no shoes Counts by fingers and toes by two's His life sick and sad Wants to be so bad Friends happy when he has the blues FIRST EVER LIMERICK WRITTEN BY ROBERT LINDLEY I know someone on poetry soup. Opens their mouth and words fly the coop. Tries so very hard to write, Condemnation is their plight! A name? I cannot that low stoop! WRITTEN BY MICK TALBOT PLEASE FEEL FREE TO JOIN IN AND WRITE A POEM ABOUT BLABBERMOUTHS THEN PLEASE SOUP MAIL ME YOUR LIMERICK AWARDED POEM OF THE DAY 3RD JULY - THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO CONTRIBUTED AND IS SHARING THIS HONOUR 7/2/18


Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2018


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Newton's Law

I was inattentive in Science class one day
When the teacher at random looked my way
I didn't look up, I wouldn't dare
There's no escaping that intense glare.

Asked me to explain to the class
Newton's Law of Gravity and mass
My mind was a blank, heartbeats louder
For an answer I started to flounder.

I stood before the class trembling with fear
"Gravity" I said...and then oh dear!!!
I fell off the stage on to the floor
How the class with laughter did roar.

The children tittered in great amusement
They didn't know my sad predicament
The teacher said, "You've demonstrated gravity"
"Although you did it with much levity".

At length I returned to my seat
With many applause did they greet
Now I look back upon this and ponder
I decide to listen and not let my mind wander.


Copyright © Nandita Das | Year Posted 2015


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And Nothing Else Matters-In an Upside Down World

Perhaps in a row they sit on their chair.
At their small object they all like to stare.
In an upside down world, the room’s silence grows.
They sit on their chair, perhaps in a row.

With both thumbs moving, such dexterity!
Faster than cheetahs their thumbs seem to be.
Some with small headphones also are grooving.
Such dexterity with both thumbs moving.

You utter a word; I doubt they will hear.
On screens, words are better than in one’s ear.
Conversing sans screen they might find absurd.
I doubt they will hear you utter a word.

I see them in class not looking at books
in spite of their teachers’ dirtiest looks.
Tell them to stop; they just give you their sass, 
not looking at books!  I see them in class.

Their phones are in use all hours of the day.
Do not even try to take them away!
You might be accused of phone/child abuse.
All hours of the day their phones are in use.

I see moms alone with a child that’s hurt,
Not even giving their child some comfort.
Nothing else matters but their precious phone.
With a child that’s hurt I see moms alone.

The cell phone’s their all - their almighty God.
Anything else for them must be a fraud.
Some only text you; they won’t take your call!
Their almighty God - the cell phone’s their all.

When did this begin? Bringing phones in school?
Kids who don’t have them are thought not too cool.
To take students’ phones is likened to sin.
Bringing phones in school. . .When did  this begin?

A time and a place there is for all things.
I hate at the movies when a phone rings!
Cell phones at dinner? An utter disgrace!
There is for all things a time and a place.

Sadly, much worse, there’s texting while driving.
If you’re not trying to be surviving,
do it! Your next ride might be in a hearse.
There’s texting while driving, sadly much worse.

Nothing else matters to addicts, I know.
*Every cloud has a silver lining though -
Less actual talking with those mad as hatters!
To addicts I know, nothing else matters.

 inspiration from the Metallica Song: Nothing Else Matters 
Written April 28, 2016 a
using Swap Quatrain style, a form created by Lorraine M. Kanter and described at Shadowpoetry.com.


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2016


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Our Christmas Eve Dinner

'Twas our Christmas Eve dinner; we all had sat down at the table to eat. Grandma couldn’t be found! We children were fussing; Dad rose to his feet. shouting, “Where are you, Ma? We’re ready to eat!” When from the next room we heard such a noise Jenny squealed, “Santa Claus must have brought toys!” We then heard a sound like a whimpering pup saying, “Help. I’ve fallen and cannot get up.” Grandpa jumped up and then rushed to the door that led to the bathroom. There on the floor lay our poor grandma, eyes widened in fear, looking like she’d got run over by reindeer! The dresser had fallen. It had her pinned down. Grandma was wildly flailing around. More swiftly than Rudolph, we did all we were able. We unpinned her. Then Mom yelled, “Back to the table!” Back to the dining room all we kids came As our mom started to call us by name. “Davy, Mel, Jenny, Angie, Marie. . . Get back here now. I’m counting to three!” Like animals not having eaten all day, stuck in a cage without getting their way, we sat at that table our bellies all growling, and Davy, the baby, by now was howling. And then finally what did appear? Dad with our grandpa and grandma so dear! Supported by both our grandpa and dad, Grandma was flushed and looking quite bad. She was dressed in a housecoat trimmed in white lace and a big purple bruise had now formed on her face. Mom pulled out a chair helping Grandma to sit, and then our dad bellowed, “OK, have at it!” Our mouths how they watered to see the large ham. “And that isn’t all,” said Mom, “I made lamb!” Her small pretty mouth was turned up in a grin, “The food’s getting cold now. Children, dig in.” Our dad how he laughed as he poured lots of gravy onto his potatoes and kidded with Davy. And Grandma sat smiling despite her great fall while Grandpa gulped spiked nog, not talking at all. With eyes that seemed bigger than my own belly, I dished out big spoonfuls of cranberry jelly. Mom winked and I knew I had nothing to dread. Her pleasure was in us all being well fed. I went straight to work at stuffing my face when suddenly Mom said, “We didn’t say grace!” We closed our eyes listening to our dad’s prayer. I peeked but was met by my mom’s warning stare! Dad finished the prayer with a hearty Amen. Then we were all grabbing Mom’s fixings again. When the food had all vanished and our stomachs hurt, we heard Dad exclaim, “So what’s for dessert?” For the Children's Christmas or Holiday Tale - Poetry Contest of Carol Eastman


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2012