Long Jokes Poems
Long Jokes Poems. Below are the most popular long Jokes by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Jokes poems by poem length and keyword.
I wish I had something important to tell you
than hoping to see your face once more
again
I do recall the moment theft that left us by
just to go through most of the day without
shredding in missing you
Should note down for the both of us we had
the best of the untested dress code of our
love
The time we spent, each moment we could
share made sense to my entire existence
Honey remember the day you rubbed my
chin just to grasp my thinking
Or between that day we couldn’t express
words as a writer does we ended up having
our own love language that had the
most inside jokes just to communicate in
understanding in meanings that could easily
visualised in animated by that we both
banged in watching it
At some point it kept us glue as if it were a
glue trap of our relationship
A feeding scheme in our conversational
content of our crazy laughter
I remember the first time I saw you
The nerves of shaking of interest to talk to
you
The moment I said “Hey “ and you said
“Hey”
It felt like it was our thing for sure ain’t no
other person could understand that
To break the freeze I complimented your
music taste as crazy it sounds it was the
exact taste that my intestine danced for it
daily
The very first hug that left me with all my
questions answered by smearing the most
paralysing smile you gave me
I’m not sure if I ever express my emotions
deeply how your being order an existence
soldiers within my heart creating a town of
Rising Diane’s movement
The feelings of your attentive specifics how
you invented a better version of me
How you stressed dearly for communication
effectively just to make the distance
between us bearably
We weren’t even near to each other
That was the actual fear that you erased
everyday
We became each other’s daily routine
We became each other’s mission in seeing
each other from time to time
It never crossed my nightmare that we will
just be erased like a drawing in a fabricated
story that is unfinished worthy to be started
all over again just like that
Ashleigh Ngoqo
Yugoslavia
My first wife and I went on holiday
55 years ago, in Yugoslavia
The tourist industry was struggling
to find its feet, we stayed in a freshly
painted barracks, which caused some
jokes about what the buildings had
housed before us
I remember a forest and a lake, but I
must be mistaken, we went there to
swim in the sea
When I told my fresh-faced wife
I had found a German uniform button
She didn't believe me, but she
mentioned the incident seven years ago
During a divorce hearing, as proof
that I was not to be trusted.
I was a tourist in a country that no
longer exist, but in Belgrade, they fight
over issues not forgotten, how a land
was divided into mini-states that
hates each other
Before you I move in the world like a sentence
without a period open, uncertain,
forever waiting for something to make it complete.
I had learned to be satisfied with almost,
to make my home in the in-between,
to call half a love a whole one
just because it was all I had ever known.
Then you came not crashing, not demanding,
but steady, like sunlight after a long gray winter,
filling rooms I had forgotten existed in me.
You did not ask me to be smaller.
You did not need me to be more.
You simply looked at me really looked
and said, without speaking, I see you.
I want to know every version of you
the one who laughs too loud at your own jokes,
the one who goes quiet when the weight gets heavy,
the one who hums in the kitchen on Sunday mornings
like the world has no edges, like time is generous.
I want to know what undoes you and what restores you,
what prayer you say when words run dry,
what song carries you home when you are far from it
I want to be fluent in you
not just the language you speak aloud,
but the one in your silences,
the one written in the way you hold your shoulders
when something has hurt you,
the one that rises when something has amazed you
and your eyes go wide and young again,
like the world has just handed you something sacred.
Because love, real love, is not a single moment
it is the accumulation of ten thousand small ones:
the coffee made just right without asking,
the hand that finds yours in a dark theater,
the voice on the other end of the phone
that says I’m here before you’ve said a word.
It is choosing each other on the ordinary days,
not just the ones that sing and sparkle.
So here is what I know, and what I choose:
I will walk every step beside you,
through seasons that bloom and seasons that break,
because before you, I was a sentence still searching
and with you, I am finally, fully home.
Thee attacks on the unvaxxed
are insane and unmatched .
Thank you to propaganda spreaders.
both International and national,fear
mongering spreaders.
Eighty year old nan gets face slapped
while eating lunch?
How about the New York Police.surrounding
a five year boy, those rugged,macho Boys in
Blue bunch?
Nations pleased with drinking, pot and such.
Mushroom highs?
Why then who in this world needs lunch?
Smash and Grabbers walk free with the
all the goods.
While we write of sex and love in dark,
mystic woods.
It is as though any penning of reality
is a loathsome thing to be ignored or
a lurid fantasy?
Poetry, a fairyland of one liners and jokes?
Where real life is avoided as one giant
laughable hoax?
Or butterflies, oh how love them, and we
so admire.
But nobody dare pen about the cost to a
businessman, whose store and finances..
Destroyed by criminals was set on fire.
Killing rates high in sixteen US states.
Do we care ....or are we only here to raise
our egotistical popularity rate?
Is this our eternal, poetic fate?
12/30/2021
She was a maestro on stage with her friends
They loved her musical talent and her ability to tell a joke.
She was in her glory here with those who loved her.
One day she met a man and he pretended to love her.
She invited him to her performance, and she began stuttering.
He was throwing disapproval at her with dagger eyes.
In seconds she was melting onto the floor, unsure of herself.
A voice within said “Who the heck is that guy?” We don’t need him!”
She threw out her titties and began living her truth again.
His frowning and glaring worsened, and she laughed, and her titties laughed.
Began playing her truth, telling her jokes, and being more on than before.
Her stage friends were amazed. She had ever been this outgoing and delightful.
So she owes her screaming success to the disapproving man. Right?
Of course not, but he was the impetus, so she owes him a bite of a sandwich
or a cup of coffee with grounds in it.
SEBASTIAN BECK
The trapeze artist Sebastian Beck
His safety harness he forgot to check
Didn't notice it had snapped
Below all the crowd clapped
But in mid-flight he fell breaking his neck...
SIR NICHOLAS
The trophy hunter Sir Nicholas Hyde
Because of him many animals died
One day his gun jammed
He said I'll be damned
Last seen running for his life from a pride...
CHRISTOPHER SNODGRASS
A mean joker called Christopher Snodgrass
Liked to play jokes on his friends that were crass
They agreed revenge was due
On his toilet seat smeared glue
When he stood it took the skin off his a.s.s...
OLD SPARKY
A sadistic killer called Billy T. Clair
As a trophy cut off his victims hair
But one did not die
Vowed she'd see him fry
She got her wish when he went to the chair...
STALE AIR
Between floors at the gallery of art
A lift got stuck and the doors wouldn't part
The air was rancid as hell
And the trapped folk smelt a smell
Someone discreetly had let off a fart...
Written 1st March 2020.
The campfire reaches
Lighting the night
Rolling the logs
Red embers take flight
Sharing our memories
Eating nuts for snacks
Spitting shells in the fire
The fire spitting them back
We laugh at jokes
And sarcastic remarks
Smoke waters our eyes
We run from the sparks
The conversation lags
As the evening tires
We all kick back
Put more wood on the fire
Center of attention
Entertaining as well
We become entranced
Succumb to it's spell
Unrecognized faces
On the bark as it burns
Enchantment transcends
All lack of concern
The warmth lives inside
As we slowly turn in
Our friend the fire
Has cleansed us again
by Daniel Turner
A birthday isn’t just a day I was born in
It is the celebration and ecstasy for staying alive another year
Of all the birthdays
I came to look at today as a forgotten recall
Of all the birthdays
I disliked this one
And reviewed my life
Since the start
And regretted the things I wanted to do
And delayed them
But I was willing to do them
With compassion and enthusiasm as ever
But, my parents and specially my dad
Never keeps his word
And that with an disregardful trait
Maybe he has gotten old
Maybe he is starting to pay less attention
And care less to examine thoughts
Maybe, but I wished and wanted and desired
He was younger, so that he could live longer
Because we came afterwards
He has already given all the care and love to the previous kids
Who are now adults and can depend on themselves
How it pleases and sets me happy
When he at least plays with us
That’s what I want
A real dad
Who smiles and speaks appropriate jokes
Who encourages me to follow my dreams
And not let them sink with the days
Who helps me develop my talents
Who really and really understand me
And my feelings
Who can love me and show it
Who can promise me and stick to his promise
No matter what
That’s what I want
Is that too much to ask?
I want dad and mom
To play with me football
And basketball
And many other games
I want to share qualities and moments
With them
But can they at least speak to me
Without making a joke out of my words?
That’s what I want
And I don’t want to blow the 100 lit candles on my birthday
I want to live and experience things I never saw
I want to do stuff I never thought of doing
Play instruments and strengthen talents
Achieve things I never dreamt of achieving
Scoring goals, walking extended paths
So that when I’m about to die
I die with satisfaction to say
I lived a life
How silly was to defy appearance and belief
to make others happy and imitate their own;
swimming in dangerous waters requires strength
when tides rise and all thoughts turn to death:
there's rarely a survivor, who hangs on a reef
as violent waves batter and faces show a frown.
If I procrastinate ideas is because I lack confidence,
filling each void with aspirations which are too brittle
to withstand the fury of a malicious rebuke
hurled by a hand I did not hold for insolence.
to reveal my inner self the humblest pride.,
even naive jokes got me upset enough to puke.
It's not wise to confide in dorks, they'll laugh it off,
their intention is mock and humiliate a troubled soul;
keep secrets to yourself, put effort toward your goal
of being admired, not mortified for actions that scoff.
Ah, give them a big glass of scotch and they'll forget scorn!
Ah, mock their defiant character, not as noble as a unicorn!
Jokes and jests are like candy,
They come in many flavors.
Some are bitter , some are sweet,
But each is meant to be savored.
Jokes are meant to make us smile,
To take the edge off trials;
But temper them with common sense,
Lest they sound as some revile.
We can joke about our job, our boss,
About our life in general,
But if you're making fun of others,
It can make them feel quite minimal.
Don't laugh at friends or family,
Or anybody else.
Each word, each jibe is like a barb,
And each one harshly felt.
You say it's all in innocent fun,
But you're making them feel small.
They try to hide it and they smile,
But it's not really funny at all.