Short Humorously Poems

Pigs are happy oinkers that don't wear wigs 
Pugs on the other hand, confer 
and  humorously un-burr  ;
 
One thing they got in common with pigs 
they both don't smoke cigs. 
and they both don't do gigs 

March 12, 2019...

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Hide under a rock,
In your mouth, stuff a sock!
Just don't say anything!
Just glue up your lips!
Or shut em' up with a lock!
Just don't say anything!
No one wants to hear your crap!
Shut up! Or we will feed you to a hawk!...

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I can’t handle
ornery
brooding
detachment
My parental figures
romantic
warm
close
Oh, they yelled
momentarily
harmlessly
humorously
(to me at least)
like when Dad
spilled sugar
sugar lips
martini cheers
against her urn
I can’t handle
grief
tears
a broken heart
...

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Books are indeed work insatiably
For those who think hourly;
Hours are not fit in humorously
In the timeframe of honoree
Of books as they work icily
In the warm world’s ivory.
Books really slog matchlessly
For those who value immensely.
Hence friends! Value the ministry
Who control the Money’s mockery....

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Books are indeed work insatiably
For those who think hourly;
Hours are not fit in humorously
In the timeframe of honoree
Of books as they work icily
In the warm world’s ivory.
Books really slog matchlessly
For those who value immensely.
Hence friends! Value the ministry
Who control the Money’s mockery....

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I've been focusing lately on our friend P D.
P D is very therapeutic for me
especially when I feel moody or very grouchy.
I just unload all I've got on our friend P D 
and then afterward things feel better for me
and P D seems to take it all most humorously.
I have such great friends. How Lucky Is Me?
Best Wishes Always,
Love,
B...

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Psychologic patterns putter past
teary temper tantrum
abruptly altering an afternoons'
magical moment
fostering feathered friends.

You yawn
in indignant imitation
of outrage only
how humorously
ennui envelops
your yelling
tantrum to trek toward
some stark stumbling
angst anchored
by bloated bile.

When will we
clamly converse, crocodile?...

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Inside a harbor inn
Where fateful voyages begin
An old man waits for me…
I enter, recklessly.

The barmaid brings the jug
And pours him out a frothy mug,
And lights a lamp for him
To read by, in the dim.

The old man wears a mask;
I hear him humorously ask
“Perhaps you care to look
Inside my ledger book?”

Instead, I flee that place—
For he unmasked a grinning face
Whose every crease and line
Was mine, was mine, was mine....

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"I may not be here for a while,"
I now say with a bitter smile.
I'm experiencing that mental shock
otherwise known as Writer's Block,
but perhaps I will use this opportunity
to check out all of my Souper's creativity.
Hopefully, that may truly serve to inspire me,
but as of now I am not in writer's heaven,
so I shall humorously leave you all now with this web address ending with 7.

http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poem_detail.aspx?ID=188177...

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Brave spirit accepts things the way they are,
detached from outcomes, present in the void,
humorously wearing all earth life scars,
essence of presence always overjoyed,
refusing to be, by ego thoughts toyed.
Thus in but not of the world, soul flows on,
dwelling not overmuch on moments gone,
here and now present, consciousness vibrant,
each life breath accepted, as a new dawn,
living with gratitude and contentment.

30-July-2021...

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They wove a wordily world
Out of space and sherds of imagination
They wove meanings in mere metaphors
Like spinning spiders

The seer just slept
The poem prospers posthumously
And rake in income post-humorously
S/he died poor but partly NOPE

S/he gave life to you and me
S/he gave a piece of life to us
S/he gave a smile to us
S/he enlightened our dark hearts

Poets and poetesses never die,
They live on shadows and ghosts
In dusts of lively libraries, helly hells and heavenly heavens...

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That Hundred-year-old rosewood door,
Imported from Brazil and hung before the civil war,
according to the local folklore,
It was a magnificent reddish brown wooden door. 
That adorned the front of a liquor store.
An Old newspaper clipping humorously 
describes the terrific uproar.
And the gore when a hundred local women or more
stormed that liquor store they were unhinged 
when they ripped down that old rosewood door
After that day never more 
did that liquor store open its door...

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I think once again you 
will be able to write as imaginatively 
as J.R.R and as humorously as Woody Allan
I have read both of their work and enjoyed it
So writers - pick up your pens!!
As for me I am hetero 
Yes, I am a NY Giants fan! 
I know some want the sport banned
But it is good for male bonding
I used to march down the field 
playing the French Horn
Only problem was 
it was too difficult an instrument to play
It is beautiful when played well
So is poetry when written well!...

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