Long Guffaw Poems
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Stood on the roof of the Empire State
Two American men and their new English mate
It’s true that a bourbon or two had been had
Perhaps that’s what made them all act a bit mad
The Englishman, clearly, had drunk a bit more
His friends shared a secret which made them guffaw
One asked their English friend if he had heard
That bourbon allows you to fly like a bird
The Englishman grinned. ‘I’m not falling for that,
If I tried to fly I would fall and go splat!’
So one of his mates jumped right down to the street
Bounced all the way up to land back on his feet
‘My, that’s amazing,’ the Englishman said,
‘If I had done that I would be a bit dead.’
‘Nonsense,’ the other American said,
‘If you won’t do it, I’ll do it instead.’
True to his word he jumped down to the street
Bounced all the way up to land back on his feet
The Englishmen gasped. ‘I can’t believe that
You jumped off the roof but you didn’t go splat.’
So both the Americans said he was scared
And after a while the Englishman dared
‘Okay,’ he said, ‘I think I could do that.’
He jumped and smashed into the ground with a splat
They gazed at the gory result of their plan
And Spiderman said, ‘That was mean, Superman.’
***
Secretly watching from behind a tree
He thought to himself ‘They could never kill me.’
For they hadn’t known his identity.
Or that the ‘splat’ was ground beef for his tea
He hadn’t harboured malicious intent
When he had adopted an English accent
But in their ‘day wear’ he still knew what it meant
When young Peter Parker said, ‘Meet Mr Kent.’
It was nice to see that the graveyard was stuffed
He grinned to see Spidey and Superman cuffed
Soon he'd step out for his mourners to see
For now, Batman giggled hysterically
6 September 2022
For contest: superheroes or Supervillains
Sponsor: Robert James Liguory
Is Seeing Believing?
Written: by Miracle Man
7/17/2017
Those things I know, to these, I readily attest,
And thought repetition hasn’t made them so.
Sometimes others may ponder if true or guessed,
While internally, The Holy Spirit has let me know.
The Devil may suggest it’s what you think you saw,
Trying upon reflection, to plant the seed of doubt.;
Suddenly from some listener, emerges a big guffaw,
Leaving me leaky eyed and with a silent shout;
I recount daily the Miracle that God has done
During Sudden Cardiac Arrest; in telling others
Sometimes they come up with some rational reason for it happening.
God is good & I’m blessed.
Tom
Where do you begin with the power of a flowering grin
Glowering cometh the hour of need the world in a spin
Don't cower chuck all the muck and chagrin in the bin
Must overpower dour or sour & feed that glow within
We know for sure the pure joy of raw roaring jaw guffaw
No flaw can buckle the lure of a chuckle heart does soar
So don’t annoy or be a bore implore a giggle’s the cure
Doff hat to scheming Cheshire cat swell well more is more
Love every beaming bright gleaming pearly white encore
Life’s a trial but a sni*ger the trigger beguiles for a while
Your career might tank but rank and file jokes hold dear
Dreaming of folks near amusing using their laughing gear
No lies so big no surprise can see it rise & appear in their eyes
Yearning not spurning the returning of guys discerning gurning
Cheer don’t tease sneer not a smirk or leer please go ear to ear
Don’t shirk teeth show go berserk..frown upside down turning
Go to town mischief clown know what will work top of the pile
Role quirk brief & perk of north and south or cake hole is clear
My belief don't pout or flout the best jest style by a country mile
No denial changes your glacial facial profile go on give us a SMILE!
Mama was going to be very busy today
(very busy cos it was Saturday)
There were jobs and work to do
Piles of clothes and washing too
Usually she would be preoccupied
And the children will have a day not fried
by “What are you doing” or “Get off that Swing”
or “Stop that playing and make that bell ring”
Those jerky and crazy stuff they’d do
Or make us do now i’m confused
So anyway the soap was out
Used up in her laundering bout
And she pointed a crooked finger and said
Jimmy , "Two Ariel One peak milk, six Joy soap and bread"
Poor Jimmy could only stare and mope
And she spit on the floor and she cried
Make sure you’re back before that's dried
And she tossed some bills and turned her face
And poor Jimmy began his roundabout race
Chanting
"Two Ariel, One peak milk, six Joy soap and bread"
"Two Ariel, One peak milk, six Joy soap and bread"
For a while the going was understood
he took short cuts the going was good
Then he met old Olaf by the door
And stop to greet him but only swore
Now I've messed it up. Which is what?
Is it three joy soap or bread I thought
(And he confused his poor brain the more)
Now it was "Three bread, six Joy milk, and Ariel flour"
Thankfully Mallam Habib’s shop was by the corner
Though Jimmy didn’t know it , he was a goner
He stumbled breathlessly, "I need these
Two Ariel One Joy, and three Peak peas"
Habib stared at him and held back a guffaw
Nevertheless he took the money and then he saw
Written in tiny and clear print, it firmly said
Give him "Two Ariel, One peak… bread"
Jimmy was so thankful "You’re so kind
how do you even y’know read my mind"
"But what’s the fun if I told you
Run along you have a job to do"
Jimmy snapped and sadly cradled his behind
Of course he knew the spit had dried
And if there was anything Ma was good at
It was spanking with a baseball bat
Things that seemed poetic were
always sad, though I yearned for
glitter and my dad's guffaw, which
never came. Familiar things were
always drear -- repeated motions
in the same old game. There were
only distant glimpses of budding
Spring, fleeting views of daffodils.
The strongest poems dealt me
death and dying. Still, I always
hoped, never went under to gray
despair, forever dreaming of a
garden of love we could share --
but those forbidden delights
faded quickly away. The only reality
I understand is the ever-looming
and final one. Nothing's changed.
The strongest poems deal
death and dying.
My favorite cousin named Marge
is almost as big as a barge.
So one would assume,
not knowing the groom,
the guy would most likely be large.
But he was a small man named Tim
“As thin as a broom” describes him.
While Marge would guffaw,
Tim would watch her with awe
and just smile for he was so prim!
When the preacher addressed him and said,
“You may now kiss the bride,” Tim turned red,
for their lips could not meet.
With high heels on her feet,
Marge stood towering over his head.
She leaned down while Tim stood on his toes,
but for being in such a strange pose,
Marge then came toppling down
crushing Tim neath her gown
while the whole church erupted in “Ohhhhh’s.”
All was well, and thereafter, we ate;
then we planned next to dance until late.
But none could foresee
the small tragedy
that had us all leaving by eight!
Marge had tossed off her heels for a glide
on the dance floor, but when they both tried
to dance, Tim got snagged
by that dang gown and dragged
as his bride was beginning to slide. . .
Now shoeless, poor Marge could not stop.
Toward a table with candles on top,
they slid, and the groom
then set fire to the room
by landing with a belly flop.
Poor Tim by the candles got lit,
and we were all having a fit,
for the fire got spread fast
till the Best Man at last
got us all wet extinguishing it!
Inspired by the title of the movie: My Big Fat Greek Wedding
& : Joann Grisetti's "My Cousin's Wedding" Poetry contest
LEGEND: 0]: Mister Zero 1]: Number One Mate
0] A clock
have I
has but one number
1] and that's it
0] just that one
1] and there's no other
but one
0] and that's not even the number
or is it an odd number
1] what's the number then
0] it's zero
1] that's it
0] like zero hour
doomsday it is
mind ya
1] a message eh
a calamity
0] a calming
before the storm
I heard of people glowing
but usually with a smile
they won't smile
at 3000 degrees
1] mayhaps a shelter
0] you're barmy mate
that's a laugh
this clock
was a retirement gift
1] O Jolly Good for you
0] it be my end mate
1] here go and get it
let me take a good look at that thing
where's me specs
0] here you go
take a look at it
just as I told ya
be only that zero there
that's it
1] oh you got it all wrong old boy
no they call this thing
a contemporary clock
for us over The Benny Hill days
it a bit laugh
sort of a send off gift
0] send off gift
1] you don't need numbers anymore old boy
no rushing off to work eh
just living the good life like me
0] IT'S THAT WHAT IT IS
1] their having quite a bit of laugh back there
back at that office there
methinks tempts be no issue
0] to their glowing smiles now
when I left I saw it
there were all glowing
the girls were cryin of course
methinks some of the guys too
1] because their gonna miss you old boy
0] someday my friends at the office there
they'll have their own zero clock as well
1] ... com'on pops
0] where we're going
1] ... we'll walk down to the pub together
0] which one?
1] still with the numbers eh
0] it was me job
I was an accountant, I was
1] RETIRED old boy
come on
the first drinks on me
but with all your gibberish
and rigamarole
methinks you had a headstart on me
0] you are a rare true mate
and I'm very happy to call you my dearest friend
1] oh
you want to go see the Vicar (Guffaw)
com'on we'll have a smooth one eh
the drinks are getting cold old boy
0] RETIRED old boy (Guffaw)
As a young child I fondly recall
tuning into Desi Arnez and Lucille Ball.
Their chemistry was great and brought
many a guffaw.
Lucy always stumbled in to comical pitfalls,
which culminated in to marital quarrels.
Desi's broken English, always saying,
"Lucy, you got to do some s plaining."
Yet there's nothing funny nor deserving
of a rhyme when one recalls T's presidency
and the rise of hate crimes..
The threats to volunteers who worked at
our polls nor to Mr. Pelosi's tragic hammer blows..
The January 6th attack on our Capitol police,
many still badly traumatized, several now deceased.
Mr. D. Trump has the audacity to want another reigning.
It's time for his MAGA buddies to "do some s plaining."
When you are in trouble
and start seeing double
you might as well have a good laugh
Cause sorrow and crying
and excessive sighing
can shorten your lifespan by half
If buried in debt
why brood in regret
when smiles are just what you need?
Don't worry or panic
no need to be manic
far better to chuckle, indeed
Has your tire lost air?
Don't give it a care
just change it and be on your way
If right after that
another goes flat
then dial up your triple A
If someone does hurt you
and then they desert you
just let it roll right off your back
Let out a guffaw
for there is no law
requiring you to attack
If hauled into court
then be a good sport
and burst forth in squeals of delight
They may think you mad
but you will be glad
as they drag you off into the night
No more bills to pay
nor dragons to slay
committed for standing the gaff
In your padded cell
your own private hell
you might as well have a good laugh
Only when yours truly busies himself...
Feigning to emulate NON GMO
garden variety English major oh just so
ho-hum, this ousted son and cingular bro
biological byproduct of papa's yoyo
after mama taut Peppy how to grow
big and become vein, her issuing blow
by blow stroke, thence pecker
imitated fountainhead
unleashing at apropos
time outburst analogous when an arrow
loosed from archer's bow
shooting off about hip height mo'
than bajillion microscopic
one celled lil longfellow
(Oh Henry...! wad art thou doing?)
just hmm... giving mutual sin O
Job whelp... subsequently
little squirt begot
sole son this all because sticky clot
hit bullseye right on the dot
nope, no where near size of ergot
spore, yet radiating
burning temperature more hot than...,
liquified gold prior
bitta bing bitta bang forged into ingot,
now just little more about fertilized
ova, I wanna jot
potential pluperfect parasite (me)
acquired, cultivated, fashioned...
one after another deft bon mot
while in utero until umbilical cord
severed than christened newborn tot.
Now fast forward blaw blaw blaw
when I began to clamor and claw
nope, cuz I ne'er learned how to draw,
the least significant genetic flaw,
cue laugh track and prerecorded guffaw
similar to popular nineteen
seventies television hee haw
laughter muted upon meeting
battle axe mother in law
another story... genre mccaw braw,
she excelled spewing vitriol out her maw,
thence I slowly must heard,
mixed metaphors and mastered...pshaw
modesty keeps me from bragging
yea - boot as a non sequitur
non secretor, yukon call me
the word wrangler outlaw
lo never cussing out anybody,
I can more easily whip out pistol
if captive audience
critiques mein arcane saw
jeering (matt speak feeble attempt
at wordplay - i.e. soldiering)
receiving affirmative nod
courtesy none other
than quick draw mcgraw
now ye butter listen (er... read) up
and don't blather and beast not shtupp
to conquer, when ya hear bit ching pup
that maybe be yipping faux ruse
to empty pocket inner empty cup.