Short Deadpan Poems

against the headstones
a chorale of christmas cheer~
deadpan audience 

 © Harry J Horsman 2019...

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Belgium's Rene Magritte
an enigma in art so discrete
Everyday objects so deadpan
its here surrealism began...

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with a deadpan bluff

I'm all in

Texas Hold 'Em sweep



MagiCicada13 Words To Live By 
July 4, 2019...

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there just ain't no cure 
there is only punnish meant
deadpan - grave - humor

© Nhan Goode Guy 2014-03-04 ;-)...

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There once was a lady named Jan 
Explored number twos with a plan
She saw the potential 
Of the quintessential 
Polished poop delivered deadpan

1st place...

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I knew a filly, thought she was bovine
Whenever she talked, out came this line
   ‘I am man’s best friend’
    This girl would deadpan
'He drinks my milk ~ He is udderly fine'...

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Brussel's surreal Rene Magritte
whose art some  think rather neat
His painting* is a bit of a lark
so often deadpan&stark

*https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Not_to_Be_Reproduced...

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I 
Can
Deadpan
Take more than
Any other man
This will be my unwritten plan
Continuing to take silence time and time again
From the most beautiful woman
Till I'm an old man
Madman
Can
I...

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so
     banal
                yet
deadpan
absurd
             clashing
             symbols
heard
          in 
              the eye
           where
imagery
is
                  all...

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Green!
Alive
on tall grass,
blithe, lithe, limber,
swaying long and lean
in their beachy masses.
The deadpan sand eavesdrops as
breezes wave blades like silk banners.
Whispers whir with emerald voices;
long-winded grass gossiping with zephyrs....

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Bess’s expressions were grotesque
Most usually weirdly cheerless
She is under unusual duress
Her family is an utter mess

Bess is playing poker more or less
Her deadpan expression not needless
A stickler for rules more or less
My watercress-loving friend named Bess...

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 "You must never say never." 

                                               Quote _ Rowan Atkinson 


Rowan Atkinson
the hapless Mr. Bean with his facial contortion 
visual, physical comedy with witty deadpan delivery
a changeable chameleon-  part of great comedian history...

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visual
scanned living sunrise dissolve
to deadpan fall of dusk

audio
whispers broadcast sweet
to escalating screams

olfactory
perfume scents of rose
to blast of graveyard musk

taste
lip-synched cherry kiss
to sucking blood of dreams

tactile
vibrant love and hate
forged in gossamer fire

conceived immaculate...

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So full of laughter my prince chides,
‘This tale is a screwball romance.
Do you enjoy deadpan perchance?
I was swept into paper tides.

They remind me of us besides,
today what else have we to do?’
Gazing into a soul so true 
I said ‘ I enjoy a good book.
You’ve entangled me with your hook. 
I can think of something in lieu.’...

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Just as I walked through the rain,
A skoosh of perfume lingered,
It jogged my memory of you;

And for a moment,
I saw your face smiling,
And you were closer than ever before.

I turned the sight to my locked door,
But, it's deadpan;
Unlike the joy it had when you were closer.

Dear I miss you!
Just like the cloud,
My heart cries too....

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To the mind that's choked as a stagnant pool
With algae covering Its simplest thought.
Departed is the recall of this magnificent tool
Absent is the passion for life once sought.

Deadpan eyes meet those ensconced with pain
Seeking much patience and understanding.
From the life that was, let the memories remain
Sometimes life seems cruel and demanding....

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To cook a baked potato
You need lots and lots of time – 
Enough to write a longer poem
Than this, and all in rhyme.

Mitch Hedberg,* in his deadpan way,
Joked with exaggeration – 
Toss a spud into the oven and
Just go off on vacation.

He may be right – I baked one,
Eighty minutes by the clock,
But my husband took a bite and it
Was harder than a rock!

*one of my favorite comedians...

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In twilight,
the noose tightens-
and shadows start walking
towards you; to reclaim
your anonymity-
and declare in deadpan manner:
the author is dead.

Your smallness goes
on sale. You are subjected
to scrutiny by the small print, but
the truth escapes from lidless eyes.

A private punishment.
There was blood on the knife.
Why did you write a
sanguinary poem for your savior today ?


Satish Verma...

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Alzheimer’s
Written: By Tom Wright
8-22-05

To the mind that’s choked as a stagnant pool
With algae covering its simplest thought.
Departed is the recall of this magnificent tool
Absent is the passion for life once sought.

Deadpan eyes meet those ensconced with pain 
Seeking much patience and understanding;
From the life that was, let the memories remain
Sometimes life seems cruel and demanding.
...

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Bells and gongs they chime,
along my hours they rhyme,
pallid face, they a deadpan,
outstretched eyes, that deluge began,
deep buried thoughts, along silent patio,
they climb afar, distant hills brow,
frail hopes, play hide and seek,
false they speak, and all seems bleak,
those beating nerves, immobilized in cold, 
like a dagger dressed, in fresh shed blood,
carried once again, to that perch of cliff,
her minute felicity, gone in a whiff....

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The snow man stands deadpan under the faint
Glow of the lamp, his scarf damp as snowflakes
Fall ‘round him, the land grim--isn’t it quaint?

The fake smile--what guile!--who would smile like that?
Made to suffer, with a muffler, he shakes
As cold wind rolled almost toppling his hat.

I remember one November day when
You made me wait ‘neath a tree. My heart breaks
‘Coz I’ve been in that scene waiting since then.

October 24, 2024
Baguio City, Philippines...

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Living on shifting sands, 
do not go for the rains.
One day you will become
a robber crab.

A cross-dresser you were.
My candle burns to see
your face in dim light. Moon
said, it was not yet dark.

Playing with rustling leaves 
of autumn. I went on collecting 
the gifts of winter like my
variant moods, yellow, brown and red !

Go and meet my deadpan
silver. It would never be my
sizzling poem. I will pour the
green river in your blue eyes.



Satish Verma...

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