Best Jokingly Poems
Sitting with her now
Watching
How did she get so old?
How did I get so old?
So many pills
Green, blue, white, red, yellow, orange
All kinds of shapes
Round, oval, oblong – big and small
A tackle box with markings
Monday through Sunday
We talk and laugh . . . then
A knock on the door!
I’ll get it
A police officer – young, clean shaven
As I open the door
I jokingly yell . . . He’s here to arrest you mom!
Sir, I do need to speak with your mother. . .
What, Oh . . . come in
Mrs. Meade, did you hit another car?
Her face showed confusion, concern . . . fear
With a trembling voice . . . No officer, I dd i d not
I followed the young man to the garage
A scrape, red paint, a missing mirror
My heart sank
Thinking to myself – is she lying?
Or does she not realize what she has done?
Does it matter?
The time has come . . .
As I hug this frail old woman
Shoulders shaking, tears soaking my shirt
I whisper in her ear
Do not fear . . . everything will be OK . . . . I love you
Standing there I realized
Our roles had changed
Come my darling
It is time for you to live with us
Happy Mother’s day
I do love you!
David Meade
May 10, 2015
Love Generously
Categories:
jokingly, car, fear, love, mother,
Form:
Old John's birthday was fast approaching, he'd be seventy-two
And his family asked him nicely what he would like to do
"Do you fancy a nice picnic or sightseeing on a train?"
"No thanks" said Old John "I'd like to wing walk on a plane ".
His family thought he was joking, in fun they all did mock
They said "It will be freezing, and you might die of shock"
He said" I have no fear, and everything will be just fine
I found it on a website, and I've booked it on the line".
His family they were mortified and thought that he was joking
But one week from today Old John he'll be high flying
A week later at the airfield Old John was quite ecstatic
His family on the other hand were all starting to panic.
He had his safety briefing and then put on all his gear
Now he was raring to go, Old John he showed no fear
He climbed up onto the wing and then he got strapped in
The pilot gave him the thumbs up and soon they were flying.
Up into the air now, they banked to the left and right
His family they all agreed it was one awesome sight
The pilot signalled to Old John, it was the grand finale
This is what Old John had wanted all his family to see.
The plane it dived then looped the loop, it was incredible to see
Old John was already thinking of what his next stunt could be
The plane then landed safely his family they were all so proud
Old Johns ears were still ringing; the wind had been so loud.
He'd felt the cold biting wind pressing hard against his face
Jokingly he asked his family if it was still in one place
His wife she then kissed him and asked, "How do you feel"?
Old John said, "I'm starving now, I'm ready for a big meal".
His son then asked him, what his next bold venture would be
Old John laughed out loudly and said "A shark cage in the sea
My life I see as a book with pages that are not written yet
I always confront my fears or there will be blank pages of regret".
Categories:
jokingly, age, birthday, flying, funny,
Form:
Narrative
Old Jack hated Halloween night.
The constant ringing of his doorbell
he didn't like. So he turned off his
household lights.
His wife said, "Why did you go and
do that, Jack?" he replied "They
won't see the house, and I'll get
some rest!"
Little did Jack know that the Trick
or Treaters were determined. They
found his house, rang his doorbell
and Jacks anger just worsened!
Every time Jack got up from his
easy chair, you could hear him
mumbling to himself, and start to
swear!
The little kids would yell, "Trick
or Treat!" Jack would throw the
candy in their bags, and say half
jokingly, OK now let me be!
The doorbell would ring over
and over again. Each time the dog
would bark and Jack would cringe!
His wife would say, "Jack why
do you have to be so mean?" His
reply was, "These kids drive me
insane, non stop, that's why I hate
this Halloween!"
"Every year it's the same old
thing. The doorbell rings, and rings!"
His wife said, "Jack can't you
see the joy you bring?" "It doesn't
matter if the doorbell rings,and
rings."
"My parent's never took me
Trick or Treating. So, I never did
experience what little boys and
girls are feeling."
She felt sad for Jack she took
him by the hand and said," It's never
too late Jack, if you are willing."
They joined a group of children,
as they stopped and got some treats.
The homeowners looked at Jack in
wide- eyed disbelief!
He noticed all the fun the children
felt, as they went from door to door!
And he felt a joy overtake his heart,
and something much, much, more!
He and his wife said goodbye to
their little friends that night.
And Jack became a little boy, as he
relived his boyhood side.
Every year since he changed his
ways. Jack can't wait. To hear the
footsteps of his little friends, come,
Halloween day!
His house lights are on, and his wife
is by his side. With a great big smile
he answers the door, and acts
frighteningly surprised!
The children love Jack, it's their
favorite house to go. He fills their bags
with so much candy, their bags just
overflow.
Screwed IX Contest Rob Carmack
Categories:
jokingly, halloween, happiness, heart, humorous,
Form:
Rhyme
" Exult O shores, and ring O bells!
But I with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead."(Final lines from Walt Whitman's "O Captain My Captain")
My hero, oh how wonderful it would have been
to know you personally, to have spent time with you,
especially since I learned the way you were back then
both as a child, then as a man – so strong, so wise, so true!
The way you’ve been described, you had a gangly look -
not a handsome lad, but oh, you were so bright!
You were poor, but you did all you could just to find a book,
one you might savor late into the night.
I relate to how you had a very human side;
to the way you loved to play a prank or talk jokingly.
You never were unkind, and you had no worldly pride.
Preferring friends to chores, you also loved poetry!
What other man born in a cabin would rise up and accomplish so much?
Predestined for greatness, you had inside you the desire
to be better! When you realized that your country boy dialect was such
a hindrance, you taught yourself proper English to climb higher!
You were so very good, and your soul so godly old!
Once in New Orleans you witnessed the African's sad plight -
men and women chained like animals were being sold.
All you saw, felt and heard determined you'd fight for the right!
You had no religion, Honest Abe, but you looked to God!
Freeing slaves, you also would have fought for women’s freedom too.
A melancholy man at times, and maybe a bit odd,
“ O Captain, my Captain,” poets ever more will praise you.
For "To Honor My Hero" Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Anoucheka Gangabissoon
Categories:
jokingly, hero,
Form:
Quatrain
December Twenty Seventh
Of Two thousand and Nine
Is the night I lost my brother
A Best friend of mine
The night two paths were chosen
One for him and one for I
A night I'll never forget
The night he lost his life
Sitting in the living room
Getting ready for the night
My good friend Byron called me
And said "Tonight's the Night"
With excitement I said YES!!!
Me and Lee will be there by nine
As I proposed this idea to lee
He simply said” Not tonight"
As I begged and pleaded with him
The question only asked was why
He said I have other plans
I’m going out with friends tonight
So all during the night
Something just didn’t feel right
But I put my feelings aside
And carried out my plans for that night
We began putting our clothes on
Joking and laughing about good times
I never even realized
That this would be the last time
Posing and primping in the mirror
He jokingly said “Do I look rich”
I said “Man you look good”
“But you might be one preppy sum *****”
As he laughed and said a smartass remark
A horn blew, and then he ran out to the car
His friends were there, and they were ready to go
I said I love you brother and as always he said I know
As I began to leave the house that night
Something in mind, just didn’t feel right
But along I went, and began to drive
To my good friend Byron’s to have a good time
So as the night went on
I had the time of my life
I got drunk and passed out
In the bed of that friend of mine
Awaken by a stranger
A stranger to me at the time
It was one of my dad’s really good friends
Then he said “come on let’s take a ride”
To be Continued
Categories:
jokingly, brother, death, loss, sadfriend,
Form:
When I asked my wife to marry me, ‘neath a golden moon,
I said I could not give her the moon and the stars, but,
“Each special day I will give you a piece of jewelry,” I said,
Then, jokingly, “When I am gone, you can wear your jewels
To the Caribbean and snatch up a younger, wealthy lover.”
I did not think I would survive her, being much older, so,
After she was gone, I opened her jewelry box and found
Her jewels—a lilac amethyst ring, a chartreuse citron pinkie,
An anniversary ring with a precious aquamarine, among others,
And, the coral necklace we found on the island of Barbados.
Born in July under the sign of Cancer, I had longed to find her
A ruby birthstone necklace, scarce and expensive as saffron.
On a road trip out west, we ran across an outlet jewelry store
Having a huge liquidation sale, and there, marked down, I found
Her a crimson ruby solitaire pendant as sparkling as could be.
We came home from Mexico with her oval watermelon pendant,
And a Mexican opal, lemon with a firing of iridescent tangerine,
Which she had carefully wrapped in a exquisite lavender cachet.
She had taken the money her father had given her before he passed
And purchased a beautiful pearl necklace--she wore it only once.
Written April 4, 2021
for "Changing Colors Poetry Contest"
sponsored by Emile Pinet
Categories:
jokingly, for her,
Form:
Free verse
First Placing : Poetry Marathon 2025
Sponsor: Mark Toney
{ FREEDOM “We may want to linger, to stay, to arrest the flow and talk about it, photograph it, lyricize it. Yet this beauty is mercurial and we must let it go, for it is already slipping away to be replaced by the new.” -Stuart Sovatsky }
YELLOW FIELD OF WHEAT
Angel of Death skims blacker than tar
a skeletal knock overturning bowl of oats
smelling of frankincense and ashes
to carry you to a yellow field of wheat
where you will dance radiant waltzes
haloed free
your laughter pranced across blue walls with
Michael Jackson, Spider-Man, cheeky elves
relishing Kentucky Fried Chicken as you
played scrabble with forlorn neighbour
bony body birthing revolutions of
roulette with green life and grey death
how you endured those precision needles
wanting to drum tapered fingers on
waiting desk overflowing with car sketches
your thirteen year old bald head smiling
veins on an enchanting spring moon as our
hidden tears crystallised hospital sheets
we tried to keep up with you scoffing
encyclopaedias, Dickens and muffins alike
cancer like a chess game mastered chemo
doctors and nurses becoming kings or pawns
time was now or endless pathos stalking minds
Laurel and Hardy keeping hearts unlocked
on Merlin’s star-patterned couch you will
jokingly converse with Pele and his team
soccer ball silent under quiescent table
my ink cannot pen sad lines as I feel
your lips still sucking dripping nipple
freedom moonwalks on a
yellow field of wheat
Categories:
jokingly, angel, child, color, death,
Form:
Free verse
Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde
Jovial Dr Jekyll played for juvenile Justice
a just jaspered journey
jokingly jumped a joyride
to juicy jukebox jabbering
in jackal jackboots
from nearby jungle
Dr Jekyll clasped a jackknife eating
jambalaya to justify a
juggled juxtapositional
jurisdiction jamming
as jugular vein jingled jewels
joyfully jauntily jaywalking
to a jay named Jim Jolly !
Onward he jumped to a
Jungian junction
Jupiter jocund watching his
journeying joints
journalese seemed a jibe jig
but neither Jewess, Jesuit
or jeweller jiggled this job
So he jerked his jess
like a jape for Japan
Jejuning onto January for the
next jangle of jasmine
No jellyfish was Dr Jekyll in Jordanian jerkin
though sometimes Mr Hyde
with jeroboam swirling alongside !
Categories:
jokingly, 12th grade, extended metaphor,
Form:
Alliteration
Dedicated to everyone at Freedom Middle School
06-07
I love you guys with all my heart
The hallways are full of laughter,
The friends are full of love
The good friends are playful,
Giving each other a little shove.
The classes were a bit of a challenge,
The tests more of a breeze
Studying was the hard part
But it put our minds at ease.
The drama was overrated
The fights were way too many
But the make-ups and break-ups made a difference
And made us think a plenty.
The teachers were our light
That got us to where we are
Even connections, useless as they seem to be,
Will help us go really far
The hearts were full of words unsaid
As we took our final steps
Outside the doors, into a new life
As we drew in our final, middle school breath.
The eyes were full of spilling tears
That cascaded down our cheeks
The sun was shining, so how could we
Be feeling so very bleak?
All of it is now a blur
I wish I could go back
And change everything that I had done
Just wipe it away to be packed.
But we can't change our mistakes in the past
And we can't relive our lives
As much as we wish we could return
To the place where our last tears together were cried.
The middle school years were the best
And we're sad to see them go
Especially those who didn't say a lot
Who didn't let their true love show.
We were alive when we were at school
Because we were with the people we loved
Our memories are the best token of that year
Even jokingly being shoved.
But now that all my friends are gone
Onto high school, seperate ones at that,
I'm still here, silently hoping
Wishing that I could go back.
But our time there was for the best,
And this has hit me with a hard SMACK!
I love everyone there, and now I have to say
I just want my life back.
Categories:
jokingly, friendship, life, sad, school,
Form:
Lyric
A MOMENT IN LIFE
Tears filled my eyes, as my heart riveted with pain
As I watch your body lay there lifeless
Jokingly you say its okay I’ll be fine
The question I often asked GOD, why
Our Childhood memories, the moments spent, times we shared
In a split second our journey together would suddenly come to a halt
Your presence diminish you are now gone from this world
Never was there a dull moment, never a sad day
You brought me laughter, joy smiles filled with cheer
Words of wisdom, willingness of heart, words of courage, words of faith
A priceless treasure that can never be replaced
You saw in me what I could never understood or envisioned
A world filled of opportunity, a world ready to be explored
I vividly remember you say this journey we called life ,
Has unexpected moments, uneventful happenings
Still the storms, ride the waves, through every road of challenges
Greater I am, Wiser I Become
(This poem I wrote because I lost my sister March this year at the age of 36)
Categories:
jokingly, death, words, world, journey,
Form:
Personification
Admirable Almights all I ask appreciatively allow me to attain,
be beyond bourgeois breeding ballads for the brain.
Create colloquialisms that cast competently into chimeras,
directing dramatists with doubtful determinations to
delightful dactylic discriptions.
Edible expressions that exite eyes and ears,
by freely forming a firm fire you'll flog any frigid forlornness fear.
God glorifies the good, my given gift Godsent thee,
my hardihood's husky, heart hungover with honesty.
I inscribe impenetrable insights, my individuality's
inanimate without improvisation,
other jaws jabber jargon jokingly, my journalistic journey's
like Jesus's justifications.
I know to keep with Christ a close kinship,
lie low then leap to light life is limited.
Maturing moderately I molded motives to mentally
manufacture music,
now naturally notions are necessary, abnormal novelistic natuarlist.
It's obvious this optimist ovulates obscure poetic offsprings,
perception pastel's perfectly personify the pen pusher's
potentcy passionately.
You're quasi qualified like Franz Kafka no question,
respectable written reflection ramble rampant even while resting.
Some scorn and show sentiment towards sonnets I've
scriptured successfully,
the toungue-tied troubadour tallies towering totals of
synchronized terms intentionally.
My untimatum is ultimately unrivaled when using unbreakable
utensils,
my voice vibrates vigorously, visionary with a victorious view.
Why waste what you wrote, wake up, wonder in a writer zone,
poems have vibes like a xylophone.
Heart young, yearn for God 365 times a year,
my zodac is wrong, attitude zealous.
Categories:
jokingly, art, confusion, family, imagination,
Form:
*To the tune of "Hallelujah" by Leonard Cohen
I've heard there is a secret floor
That's locked behind your attic door.
But you don't really want to show me, do you?
You keep her there,
A ghost, a fiend -
An angry beast that taunts unseen.
The crazy wife who wants to burn your house down.
You have Bertha in your attic
You have Bertha in your attic
My love was strong, so I needed proof
That she was jailed beneath your roof.
She showed up in the moonlight to betray you.
She lit the flames, she left you there
To choke on smoke and fight the flare.
The crazy wife who tried to burn your house down.
You have Bertha in your attic
You have Bertha in your attic
Edward, I've been hurt before.
I've been condemned, I've been ignored.
I used to feel alone before I knew you.
I've seen her face through the attic door.
I've heard her wails through the attic floor.
The crazy wife who tried to burn your house down.
You have Bertha in your attic
You have Bertha in your attic
There was a time when you let me know
The truth about your scheming show.
But now you wish you'd never told me, don't you?
And remember when she stalked my room
Searching for her cheating groom?
The crazy wife who tried to burn your house down.
You have Bertha in your attic
You have Bertha in your attic
You have Bertha in your attic
You have Bertha in your attic
*Based (lovingly and jokingly) on the story of "Jane Eyre" by Charlotte Brontë
Categories:
jokingly, song-house, wife, crazy, house,
Form:
Light Verse
Tossing the Bridal Bouquet
By Elton Camp
Their wedding vows bride and groom did say
One more task before they make their getaway
A tradition that started five hundred years ago
But one that is still considered to be fun though
The single ladies are called and all gather about
While the bride throws her bouquet with a shout
Because, by tradition, it has jokingly been said
She who catches it will be the next to be wed
Macey hoped they won’t see her expanding waist
And she came rushing over with greatest haste
The other single girls she brushed right on past
For she had a reason she shouldn’t be wed last
Categories:
jokingly, funny,
Form:
Rhyme
2 a.m. Another Mother's Day morning. Today I'm going to relate army life to some ladies in my life. This past Thursday my Infantry company conducted a training meeting. Weeks ago I had thought about using helicopters to transport the majority of the company out to gunnery instead of using buses, borrowing other vehicles or using solely sole power since our combat vehicles have to be transported because of money reasons. Keep in mind, the two star general mentioned leaders should implement all systems into our training a few months earlier. Kinda amazing we need to be told these things, but I was never a believer in training non-thinkers. Some of the specialists sitting in for platoon sergeants eyes enlarged with excitement, other members of the team thought, "yeah right," while others laughed as I had said it jokingly, even though I was as serious as, Yolanda Linn checking corners after her oldest got done scrubbing floors.
Anyways, the XO comes back the next day and says, "1sg, so I ran that idea by the Battalion XO, and he thought that was a great idea. It'll save money on buses because helicopter fuel is already budgeted and our Soldiers will enjoy it." What my company didn't know was that my reasoning went beyond the stupidity of taking buses to training. If you think my mom would allow me to ride a bus in Afghanistan, you are outside of your god-given mind!
Mother, thank you for discipline, for teaching me humility. For months on end, I watched you make ends. Thank you for making me think. I remember asking you questions and you would never tell me directly, you'd point to a dictionary. You were the first step in self discovery. I'm reminded of a Curtis Mayfield song "The Makings of You" when I think of you: a little bit of sugar... Undoubtedly, the infantry will thank me, but it will be in honor of the goddess who named me her first born baby. Love you from the depths of the ocean to the most distant star the human eye can see. Happy Mother's day too you, and too the woman who loves a deep reflecting man.
Categories:
jokingly, celebration, grandmother, mothers day,
Form:
Prose
Love all but trust a few
a secret shared is no more
in the hidden dark corner.
“I fell from a Tree” to a best friend
was jokingly said in a serious conversation
which ended with “don’t tell anyone”
The connection is endless and remarkable;
friends are friends to other friends of friends,
the subject passes by, amusement is derived
“she has bad breath and now falls from Trees”?
Is the recap of a story
ending with a plea not to tell anyone.
In a place of worship, giving thanks,
a congregant sees
and shakes her head in innocent pity.
“she’s done well, considering her jobless status,
taking care of medical bills
for halitosis and accidents”
“don’t tell anyone” is said
to the next worshiper who hears.
In the supermarket, an item is forgotten
from afar, a middle-aged lady
brings such to attention.
After much gratitude comes a careless remark
“its herbal tooth-wash
especially good for
the accident-woman with a bad breath”.
“Oh sorry,
that suppose to be
a secret, or do you know her”?
He speaks with a smile, still in appreciation,
as she regresses her obvious limping steps
in sadness and shame,
the result of her untimely sneeze
sums up the great clue of her identity.
Many ears can’t just be avoided
by an unleashed secret!-is her regret.
Categories:
jokingly, anxiety, betrayal, character, community,
Form:
Prose