Best Humorous Poems
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.
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~
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 mind every day
Passing along appeal
continuing to fit in
blend in
pretend
force program
Is it just me or
am I the perfect human?
I was at my favorite restaurant and I'd 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, 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,
turning to me she said ‘now Madam, what can I get you’
Oh stiffy cockie pudding please was my swift reply -
I didn’t realize what I’d said till I saw 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, how 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!
A true story!
written on 2/2/2014
submitted on 08/03/21 to YOUR PERSONAL FAVORITE Poetry Contest
Sponsored by L MILTON HANKINS
Don't bother me with conformity
don't bother me today-
with things I should (or shouldn't) do
or what I shouldn't say!
Don't bother me with conformity
my house is not “obscene”...
Orange, purple, and lavender
look lovely with lime green!
Don't bother me with conformity
I'm much too happy, carefree
to wonder why the neighbors all
keep staring so at me!
Maybe they're jealous of my tail
I really don't give a hoot!
Surely they have seen before
grown-ups in zebra suits?
Don't bother me with conformity
...too busy to follow your lead!
I've whatcha-ma-call-it thingies to build
and unicorns to feed!
Don't bother me with conformity
don't worry me this way!
You've stepped on all the faeries toes
and run the elves away...
Don't bother me with conformity
you're being such a pest!
My mud pies were quite fabulous
and not a “filthy mess”!
Don't bother me with conformity
my music's not so loud...
Accordions are delightful-
See? It's already drawn a crowd!
...Respectfully holding their applause
until I reach the end-
Oh no- they really love it so!
You're quite mistaken, friend!
Don't bother me with conformity
come dance a jolly jig!
You really should loosen up a bit
you sad, forlorn, old prig!
Don't bother me with conformity
No thanks! I've had my fill...
of boring, bland, and deathly dull
no doubt that boredom kills!
Don't bother me with conformity
Oh, what was that you said?
Well, I think you (and your boring lot)
are the crazy ones instead!
I want conversations
with writers and poets
The wise the wacky
the dark and the stoic
I need to drink your words
I fear my disease is chronic
The name of my affliction
I think it’s wordaholic
Writers and poets
Dig down to the deep
Some are more honest
Others have secrets to keep
Some can herd cats
or people like sheep
If you tell a good story
I’ll sacrifice my sleep
The complicated mind
Within phrases revealed
Multilayered thinking
Special nuggets concealed
Tongues sharp and precise
master poets do wield
If used like a surgeon
The recipient is healed
So talk to me wordsmiths
all of you clever poets
The wise the wacky
The dark and the stoic
I want to drink your words
Yes my disease is chronic
The name of my affliction
I think it’s wordaholic!
My turds float like choc’late marshamallows
Just lurking about in the shallows
I guess that my butt
Is truly kaput
So doctor suggests bitter aloes
I questioned such treatment regime
Doc said it may keep my butt clean
Aloe on my finger
Won’t cause me to linger
And floaters will look like whipped cream
Doc chuckled and said “Listen here
Your floaters are nothing to fear”
Poop floats cos you’ve gas
Which is passed through your ass
No treatment’s required my dear.
DISCLAIMER - THIS IS NO REFLECTION ON THE STATE OF MY BOWELS JUST NEEDED A LITTLE LIGHTHEARTED RELIEF AFTER A VERY CHALLENGING WEEK
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!
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
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
Due to growing Nimbus clouds of oppression
an area of low pressure has been building
Rest assured, it won't lead to bouts of depression
but rumblings of thunder have now been heard,
foreshadowing the bombs of fury soon to come.
Be advised: the ripping winds will not be deterred.
To counteract and neutralise any negative vibes
this Poetry Souper has been on a strict vegetarian diet
of lentils, cabbage soup, curry and beans; re-fried
They have been consumed in copious quantities.
Take shelter from wind gusts. There may be a riot!
Steps are being taken because many have died
from the expulsions of a toxic build up of gas.
It's predicted to be tornado level turbulence
emanating from winds blown out of my a s s
Anatomically referred to as expelled flatulence.
Blowouts should be considered as lethal blasts,
and not to be taken lightly, ignored, or scorned.
This is a public service alert of severe wind forecast.
The approaching storm is of gigantic proportions.
Gas masks are advised. You have been warned!
Warning Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Richard Lamoureux
Submitted to Weather Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Angela Tune
2/28/20
Lovesick Ollie Octopus
was feeling so terribly sad
He burst into floods of tears
and sobbed to his grandad
Grandad said now Ollie
will you please stop crying
The ocean is salty enough
that fact there’s no denying
Ollie begged grandad’s advice
he said Ollie just listen to me
You’ve got more than one heart
in fact you’re blessed with three
You’ve got eight long tentacles
which can act as loving arms
But all the female octopuses
are still oblivious to your charms
Grandad scratched his head
and said now listen sonny
You need to charm the ladies
with jokes - so make them funny
And if you get them laughing
as sure as sure can be
One's bound to fall in love with you
buy a joke book and just see
So Ollie purchased a joke book
and learned lots of fishy puns
But when he tried to use this line
about the ‘Codfather’, his date runs!
So Ollie joined an inter-net dating site
one called ‘plenty more fish in the sea’
He met a lonely octopus called Olivia
they’re now engaged and are truly happy
Thanks to Harlequin for the inspiration xx
06/13/21
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
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...
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.