Long Dark humor Poems
Long Dark humor Poems. Below are the most popular long Dark humor by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dark humor poems by poem length and keyword.
You win the game
You hit the score
But then again
You want some more
What you achieved
Soon gone to past
You can’t retrieve
It wouldn’t last
Another time
Has come again
You’re not in line
You’re not the same
You’re out for lunch
You’ve had it all
You’ve come to crunch
Its not your fault
Your day is done
Its overdue
And when it comes
You know it should
That winning lot
Was it the goal
But you forgot
Forgot it all
Dementia came
And brought release
You play no game
And what was this
Is just absurd
That has no name
Your life’s reward
Was it a game?
Why not forever
And for more
Never for never
Score for the score
And this is it
No more excuse
Now its complete
You’re proud to lose..
What do you do
when you’re riddled with riddles,
swallowed whole
right down the middle?
Music blares,
but it’s not me.
’Twas a toot or two
from a fiddle.
What do you do
when your riddles get riddled?
When you’re all alone
and you fiddle your diddle.
Nothing comes out
but a little
piddle.
Compulsively arranged
and out of control,
thought after thought
has swallowed me whole.
Riddled with feelings,
I pick at my mind,
looking for answers
that no one can find.
Can you connect the dots?
I’m trying to justify
whatever still rots.
Riddled with riddles,
discarded
like an afterthought.
Something’s not right here.
Something became
a knot.
in memory of my great friend
Rudi Rubberoid
Grossialdo! Grossialdo!
Rip the face off Uncle Waldo!
Scare that fellow once too often!
Nail 'im in a wooden coffin!
Plant 'im nicely six feet under!
Leave 'im there and let 'im wonder!
Dig 'im up when heartbeat ceases!
Cook 'im for his giggly nieces!—
Yuk! Old Waldo's brain is oozy!
I can't look! It makes me whoozy!
Ship the corpse to Colorado!
To his mother! GROSSIALDO!
.
[This poem first appeared in a mail artist magazine edited by Rudi Rubberoid, Nomo the Zine Spring 1994. It was collected in my volume Daisy Zoo and Other Punk-ass Nonsense.]
Next
I really love my Aunty;
Honestly, I do.
Even though she teases me,
I'm sure she loves me too.
My sister had her wedding.
It was quite the fancy do.
Aunty whispered in my ear,
"That will soon be you."
Trish is very pretty,
And Delilah is delightful,
You should get married soon,
Or you'll grow old and spiteful.
Sister had a baby boy,
And we wet the infant's head.
"Get off your tush and have your own!"
So my Aunty said.
"Be married first, of course,
So as not to misbehave.
Then we all can welcome home
Vera, Chuck, and Dave."
Aunty never bore a child,
Nor did she take a mate.
But she'd taunt me with reminders
At each sacrament or fete.
The years went by and father died.
The vicar read the text.
I nudged my dear old Aunty,
"By the way, you're next."
In the Hills of California
I journey out in the clean crisp air
To hike for miles in the place where
I leave my worries and despair
In the hills of California
In peaceful calm I restore
My sanity and love for life once more
If this is heaven I found the door
In the hills of California
Lured by beauty I'm drawn so high
Peaks pierce cloud studded deep blue sky
Wishing that I could some how fly
In the hills of California
Intoxicated by the beauty of it all
My footing slips I begin to fall
Rolling, bouncing like a ball
In the hills of California
Body broken lying prone
Wet with blood, protruding bone
Wishing I was not alone
In the hills of California
In my pain, so extreme
I hear the loud pitch of my scream
Hoping that its all a dream
In the hills of California
Circling high at first just one
Two, then three and more to come
Wings spread wide against the sun
In the hills of California
Beady eyes on blood red face
Circling lower, they crowd my space
I'm the meal, I pray for grace
In the hills of California
In the distance I hear the cries
Wolves or coyotes no surprise
Dinner time and I'm the prize
In the hills of California
Come and get it don't delay
Eat this pain I feel away
An all you can eat human buffet
In the hills of California
Clean my bones but leave my soul
So I can stay where the cool winds blow
In the beauty I love and know
In the hills of California
Thank you for calling Your Destruction.
If you’re calling to bring forth your personal hell, press 1.
If you’re calling for emotional devastation, press 2.
If you’re calling to enact physical harm, press 3.
…Thank you. Your Destruction is now offering a summer sale.
If you are interested, please fill out the survey on Your Destruction website.
…Please hold…please hold…please hold…please hold on for as long as you can…
Please hold; the bringer of your doom will be with you in a moment…
Hello. It’s nice to hear from you again.
What can I do for you that will make you regret your life choices?
I see. Sorry to hear that. Would you like to include your friends and family?
I understand. Your Destruction will ensure that your life is utterly ruined once I’m done.
Have a nice day!
Every law enforcement official out on patrol,
was desperate to capture The Vegan Cannibal,
so named from a note left with one of its victims,
leading to a series of murders that terrified every vegan.
It read, "I am a cannibal who does my best to eat healthy,
and vegans are the healthiest of all my desired meat.
Only a true vegan will yours truly eat.
Nothing artificial, no preservatives, mostly fresh food they consume.
Vegans are the healthiest and tastiest meat I have ever known,
so bid all of your vegan associates a hearty farewell,
should they cross paths with yours truly, The Vegan Cannibal."
The Vegan Cannibal was never apprehended, but its reign ceased,
when the vegans began consuming mass quantities of junk food and meat.
.
poor peanut
pretty
sheets crumple'd
in mitts
hern
reach'n fer
thuh board
head
shake'n
"please"
(((just))) make thuh
bed
i'm not allow'd tuh
phuk maid
thuh
not on fridayz
tip (edvard tap)
meanz
Aroused with head of hair. O grizzly bear!
Awake! As fangs do sink into my neck.
Reward, if you...O king, my life will spare.
I gnaw my nails, depressed...for i’m a wreck.
Do you, O beast hear buzzing...wink. Oh honey!
You hear the slap of salmon steak, I think?!
For you the fields of sticky gold, like money,
And hallowed fish - right there! Look there! (I blink)
He scuffles off in search of prey. I hurry!
Make tracks before he snatches me for snack.
My tent long gone. I sigh. I see a flurry.
I’d like to catch a break. Just then...a smack.
Those lips are huge, the tongue so cruel. I growl.
Bereft, I sit within the creature’s bowel.
11/4/2017
Brian Strand Contest #360
My fashionista muse has many styles from which to choose,
and how she feels determines the colors she will use.
If she brims with silliness, it’s orange she could wear,
for couplets can be quirky heels, and heels come in a pair!
Also when lighthearted or simply wanting fun,
she dresses in a limerick, often yellow like the sun.
If she feels dramatic, she wears a long red gown.
However, she has yet to try a sonnet with a crown!
In a sonnet that’s traditional she is often seen.
When she’s feeling earthy, it might even be green.
Yet she more prefers to green - a heavenly cool blue
while simply dressed in kyrielle, tanka or haiku.
Quatrains and quaterns are styles she likes a lot.
In her closet you can see how many that she’s got.
Romance often suits my muse, for which are many hues:
from flirty pink to lavender. She’s even got some “blues.”
The terzanelle or villanelle she wears once in a while,
especially for moments when they are quite in style.
She can’t dance as easily when she wears free verse.
That style for her can either be a blessing or a curse.
Poems of the spiritual nature require that she wear white
even though she’s more inclined to wear hues that are bright.
The color black can suit my muse if serious is her mood
or if she’s feeling some “dark humor” in her attitude.
My muse wears many styles but she hates the color brown,
so if you see her dressed in it, she’s sure to show a frown!
Jan. 4, 2023
for Regina McIntosh's "My Muse" poetry contest