Love Poems About Humor or Humor Love Poems

Humor love poems and/or love poems about Humor. Read, share, and enjoy these Humor love poems! Also, try our sister website's powerful search engine for poems.

Poem Details | by Joyce Johnson |
Categories: humor, love,

Knowin how to keep em

Oh don't think that I ain't seein'
As you roll those purty eyes,'
And my man stands there a gawkin'
Like he'd won some sort of prize.

My ma taught me how to keep em
And to cut you down to size.
For there ain't no man worth havin'
Can resist my apple pies.


Poem Details | by CHRISDAD KOJO ARTHUR |
Categories: art, beauty, emotions, humor, i love you, love, poetry,

SPEECHLESS SPOKEN WORD ARTISTE

SPEECHLESS SPOKEN WORD ARTISTE

So if my vocal folds can’t collaborate to produce sounds to communicate loudly to your beautiful mind that I have an endless mission of loving you, can’t there be any mere articulation in my vocal tract to do that? What are my tongue, lips, alveolar ridge, hard palate and velum doing? I never knew that emotions could shut my speech tractHow I wish my speech tract could connect to my heart, so that I can give you a cord of love inserted into my heart, for you to put it into your ears and listen to the words my heart says because I am speechlessI had it in my mind to tell you that you are beautiful, eloquent, and charmingWhen I drew nigh, I decided to start with the word ‘lady’ to show some decorousnessBut I realized my lungs couldn’t even initiate the airstream for my glottis to either widen or narrow to cause my vocal tract to produce the voiceless and voiced sounds in the two syllable word, let alone the nineShould I comply with those who say action speaks louder than words, so that I can gesture for you to get the feelings better? I thought I was one who could speak like a parrot, but I am now slides before you like carrotsBut what could make a spoken word artiste speechless apart from the abnormal? OK! Let’s try establishing causalityThe moment I saw you, you blinked your eyes, so probably that muted meSo if you could do that again, it may set me freeDon’t wait for me to tell you that you can cause distractionDon’t go near a podium mounted by a performer, lest, you will cause distractionBecause that image you carry isn’t what you thinkNot even a mermaid, more than strangePlease set me free because you are gradually becoming ‘head of Medusa ‘ , rays from your eyes are communicating with mine and making me motionless like lot’s wife is Sodom and GomorrahI came out of volition but it is now at your discretion to let me go, so please take off your eyes and set me free.

Tension within me had converted into electrical energy and burnt my speech tractSo what I am going through is beyond dumbFrom a distance, I was in haste to meet you, but the moment I set my eyes on you, as though there were a speed rump- I started moving like a tortoiseWhat broke the camel’s back was when your eyelids became a canon camera and gave me flash, I became staticI wonder why I am speechlessI wonder why I am speechlessBecause I am this man who can stand before a lady and produce lyrics more than ‘sarkology’ album, so I wonder why I am speechlessI could make a lady swim deeper in the pool of sweet words, so I wonder why I am speechlessMovement of my negative lips could attract positive ladies, so I wonder why I am speechlessPerhaps we are both negatives, so we repelHow I wish my vocal folds will touch along their edges from my thyroid and open slightly at my arytenoids to create a creaky sound like ‘huuh’ for you at least get the air of love, but none is workingI have thin vocal folds that can produce nice sounds like the lead guitar, so I wonder why I can’t even stammerMy phonetics is not working, let alone deploy my syntax for you to use your morphology in breaking down the words to achieve semantics How unfortunate it is that my speech tract couldn’t let out the words my mind has been saying since the beginning of this piece.

 


Poem Details | by Edwin Hofert |
Categories: first love, hilarious, humor, humorous, romance,

First Love

First Love

A man remembers his first love.
Until he finds his grave.
If he lives to be a hundred.
That's what he'll always crave.

For some it might be a blonde.
A red head or brunette.
Others are still looking.
They haven't found it yet.

For some it is those buns of steel.
We've all heard about.
Whatever a mans first love is.
He hates to go without.

There may be some who's first love.
Is in the color of her eyes.
I'll always remember my first love.
A greasy cheese burger and fries.

Make it a double patty.
With everything on top.
Ketchup, mustard, or special sauce.
Please don't ever stop.

Fries fried to a golden brown.
Thin and crispy too.
A greasy cheese burger with some fries.
No talking til I'm through.

So now you know my secret.
A greasy cheeseburger and fries.
If you want inside my heart.
Make mine super size.

Edwin C Hofert


Poem Details | by Gail Foster |
Categories: community, fantasy, humor, love, lust, mythology, passion,

The Return of the Gay Knight

For my satire group, and for Will; a fairy tale

To a fanfare of horns
The young knight returned
With a tale of slain dragons to tell
The princesses blushed
And the old queen flushed
And the gay knights were happy as well

He had cast down his cross
From the height of his hoss
And left the thing there where it fell
For the great and the good
Were in need of the wood
To stoke up the fires of hell

He’d only been back for a moment before
He was begging a poke with a pardon
And a giggle, and “Push!”
From a quivering bush
Could be heard from the end of the garden

No need for a graven memorial stone
Or the ring of a funeral bell
The young knight was back
And well up for the crack
And all in the kingdom was well

© Gail Foster 2016




Poem Details | by Robert Ronnow |
Categories: bird, humor, insect, love, men, poetry, wine,

Can poetry matter

In the debate between accessible and difficult poems
Poets' poems and poems for people
Only the single poem and private reader matter

Both kinds and anything between can matter or not
Solid or made of air, a vase or heavy clay ashtray
One word repeated or many like a lei

An acquired taste, like wine, and like wine
Not sustenance, yet men die with their miseries
Uncut without it, news and mere matter

I advise everyone to keep a personal anthology of poems that matter
Or notPerhaps it should be novelsStones, insect wings,
Feathers, Birds you've seen, People loved.






Poem Details | by Mike Hauser |
Categories: humor, love,

What I Love About The South

It ain't the pork, it ain't the beans
It ain't the mustard on saltines
It ain't the redneck social scenes

I love about the south

It ain't the ice cold sweet southern tea
It ain't the way that we say please
It ain't the way we lemon squeeze

I love about the south

It ain't the perfect slice of pecan pie
It ain't the wink in the bullfrog's eyes
It ain't the fireflies that light the night

I love about the south

It ain't the way we say yes ma'am
When you visit Alabam
It ain't the attitude of yes we can

I love about the south

It ain't the way that we say ya'll
With the syrupy sweet southern draw
No it ain't none of that at all

I love about the south

It's the crisp clear starry nights
Through the shifting shadows of the loblolly pine
As I stand here with your hand in mine

I love about the south

Just the fact that you are here
And that I can hold you near
As I hear you call me dear

I love about the south


I actually love everything about the South.....


Poem Details | by Janice Canerdy |
Categories: humor, love hurts,

Mischief


Oblivious she seems to me
in spite of all my manly charm.
How she resists, I just can't see.
Oblivious she seems to me.
So now a prankster I will be.
At least, I'll cause her great alarm!
Oblivious she seems to me
in spite of all my manly charm.

This poem WAS a triolet,
but I just didn’t want to quit.
She wants some dull, malnourished guy
instead of MEI can’t see why.

***********************

I know the dolt is flexing there,
with muscles bigger than his brain.
A ring from him I'll never wear.
I know the dolt is flexing there.
Encourage him, I wouldn't dare.
From wooing me, he must refrain.
I know the dolt is flexing there,
with muscles bigger than his brain.

I said “NO” when he asked me out.
You should’ve seen the big oaf pout!

Oops! That’s ten linesI should’ve quit
with eightThis WAS a triolet.


Triolet--I added four lines to each stanza.


September 5, 2018, entered in Nina Parmenter's A Form of 
Mischief Contest





Poem Details | by Lewis Raynes |
Categories: beautiful, beauty, desire, humor, humorous, love, society,

She loves jewellery

She has a collection, an unusual collection, 
Of four thousand and forty two,
Colourful, shapely, dangly rings, 
From green to gold to blue,

That she wears from ears, her nose, her lips, 
The ones that are on show,
And she wears a heap in other places, 
But there I will not go,

Her arms both glitter, her legs glisten, 
Her neck’s a twinkle on display,
She’s a shiny beautiful colourful star, 
When she walks throughout the day,

From hoops, to drops, to barbell hugs, 
She loves wearing tiny rocks,
But no one can actually see her now, 
She’s become a walking jewellery box.


Poem Details | by Kelly Zakerski |
Categories: age, childhood, children, daughter, family, children, kids, funny, health, humor, humorous, life, love, mother, people, time, work,

THE AGING PROCESS

Many years ago, when we were all young,
We really thought life, would be so much fun.
While playing dress-up, trying on mom’s stuff,
Putting on make-up, we found to be tough.

Then came our schooling, and boy things would change,
“Those aren’t our parents”, when they acted strange.
Sometimes they were hip, but old-fashioned too,
That’s something I swore, I would never do.

Wishing you were older, adults had it made,
They would do nothing, yet still would be paid.
That is how little, we all had known,
We surely found out, once we were grown.

Loving the twenties, we’d go out with friends,
When we went shopping, we followed the trends.
Doing what we wanted, and staying out late,
It didn’t matter, what time we all ate.

Then came the thirties, and most of us wed,
Watch what you wish for, my parents had said.
We had to work hard, many bills to pay,
I guess they were right, what more can I say?

Raising your children, was hardest of all,
Needing some advice, your parent’s you’d call.
It seemed so easy, they needed no rest,
So now it’s your turn, you learned from the best.

The forties arrived, that was a shocker,
We’d spend lots of time, just at the doctor.
Back aches and headaches, so tired you’d be,
Trying not to cough, or else you would pee.

The fifties would come, and your grandkids too,
Where were your glasses? You hadn’t a clue.
You searched here and there, and under the bed,
“Hey grandma” they laughed, “They’re right on your head”.

Here come the sixties, now let’s have some fun,
You are retired; your work is all done.
To dinner with friends, you dressed and you wait,
They never show up, you have the wrong date.

Now the seventies, with friends playing games,
If only you could, remember their names.
You try hard to hide, those under-eye bags,
Gravity happens, and everything sags.

Enjoy every day, and have a good laugh,
All the steps you took, led down a new path.
Live life as it comes, each year a new page,
One thing is for sure, everyone will age.


Poem Details | by arthur vaso |
Categories: beauty, cute love, grave, humor, obituary,

I Found a Girlfriend

Took me the breath of all my life
A soul mate who could consume my heart wither a smile
I found that Gothic girl after dark
A little to late to consummate
I lie in waiting with a dead round smile
Empty eyes and a lot of guile
I found a girlfriend even if late
We lie together
Frigid is our state


Poem Details | by James Fraser |
Categories: fun, funny love, giggle, humor, people, silly, tree,

Out Pops - a collab with Olive Eloisa Guillermo

Two poets who couldn't agree Raise their voices to their loud pleas One wasn't able to stop His zip open, out pops! Haha, it's a pea, not the size of a tree ©JAFraser and OEGuillermo 15.18pm, April 07, 2015


Poem Details | by Sunshine Smile |
Categories: humor, longing, love,

- I Need You -




                                         I have sweet thoughts
                                       The thoughts goes to you
                                       My tears comforted by you
                               The pleasure is great when I have you
                             The delights you give me when I'm happy
                                My eyes sparkle when I look at you
                                        My mouth runs in water
                                        I just have to taste you
                                           My own love and sin                        
                                          Only by a small touch
                                        Feel my lips cools down
                                   A sprinkling of chocolate on top
                                    My delicious vanilla ice cream
                                          I need you.NOW!





13.08.2013
A-L  Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved


Poem Details | by James Inman |
Categories: goodbye, humor, silly,

I'm Sorry My Love-An Almost Sonnet of My Deepest Admiration


Lying in the meadow on a long afternoon
I press soft against you and start to spoon,
but the lump at the base of your spine has now grown
(vestigial tail , I guess) presses hard against my places unknown,
so rolling you over and with gentle caress,
your yellow scaled elbow, I adore, I confess,
I trace the large bump on the end of your nose.
I just love the coarse hairs and, how subtly it glows.
You sniffle so sweetly, as never ending it runs,
as of lipstick, thick mucous coats your lips, and you have need for none.
So I lie next to you, of your beauty I want more,
admiring your features, almost all I adore                ...only one I abhor.

So, though shallow I feel, it saddens me greatly to know I must leave you
for the one thing I hate, I'm sorry my dear but your eyes are      just      too      blue!


03/22/16


Poem Details | by Brian Morton |
Categories: desire, humor, innocence, loneliness, love, science, youth,

Bottled Love Haiku

If love is a drug
my chemist doesn't have it.
Where can I find some?


Poem Details | by Steven Clark |
Categories: crazy, kids, fun, funny, funny love, humor, humorous,

Driving My Kids Crazy

Driving my kids crazy
Every day and night
Because my mind is hazy
Nothing comes out right

Still, I keep on teaching
The foggy lessons in my head
At the end of all my preaching
There's but one thing said

"I know what you are saying...
You said that yesterday."
In their heads their praying
I will go away

Still, they do consult me
When they are truly stuck
But, if I get to wordy
They'll be out of luck

The message will start hazing
From their doe-eyed sight
This act starts with a glazing
Of eyes and face and light

I see their minds have left me
They are waiting out their time
And if, they ignore me
It is a small crime

I know my kids all love me
And I feel just the same
Still I hope they'd all agree
In this there's no blame

And so I may keep yapping
Each and every day
But If disaster's tapping
I'll be on the way

I just want to guide my kids
Not drive them away
As I watch them roll those lids
I see the end of day

Okay, I'll be quiet now
No more torture, pain, or strife
And if, you'll just show me how
I'll go e-mail my wife


Poem Details | by Teddy Kimathi |
Categories: funny, funny love, green, humor, humorous, imagery, relationship,

Theory of Greenness

"What do we have for breakfast?"
"Lettuce and cabbage juice!" she
replies excitedly.
She had forced him to change
his blue pajamas to green
pajamas, then he returns
to bed -
the bed had to have green sheets,
green bed cover, and a green
pillow.
"Why do you do this to me?!" he asks.
"I was born in StPatrick's Day!!!"
she replies.
He can't wait for a green light
to escape a world where
everything he hates is green.
He's afraid he's lost her love in the greenness....


Poem Details | by Cona Adams |
Categories: bible, creation, cute love, humor, humorous,

A Slight Improvement

Genesis 1:27 
God creates male and female


A Slight Improvement

All it took was one rib,
Adam wouldn’t miss it.
Look what he gained.

At first sight, he uttered
an ancient word the equivalent 
of the modern, “Wow!”

From the best use of a rib
of all time, came a creature
capable of charm, seduction,
procreation, gentleness, envy,
love, virtue, loyalty, jealousy,
deceit, and an affinity for salt.

Though she came from man,
she seeks always to best him,
and considers herself superior
in every wayAfter all, she has
that extra rib.

First Appeared in Galaxy of Verse.


Poem Details | by Edward Ibeh |
Categories: drug, humor, love, romantic,

Love Is A Four Letter Word

Look in your eyes unveils a smoldering ember that could make Gibraltar crumble.
One in a million heart that magically kindles fire without matchesNothing...
Ventured, nothing gained in this rewarding game of love; a four letter word that
Emanates such sweet ecstasyAnd no, I don't mean the drug



Universal Acrostic Collaboration Poetry Contest/Winner(1st Place)
Sponsored by: Steven Henderson
Date written: and posted 04/01/2016


Poem Details | by Nina Parmenter |
Categories: fun, funny, funny love, humor, humorous, myth, mythology,

Love Letter II

Dear Thor, I think we both agree,
I punched above my weight,
You’re a hot Norse god - and me?
A checkout girl from Yate.

My mates stood, gaping, gormless, 
When I said you were my guy,
See, that hammer’s SO enormous...
Such a help for DIY!

But as for who you’re friendly with,
WellTake that trickster Loki,
Alone with me, you’re sensitive!
With him, you’re just so BLOKEY!

And when you dressed up as a chick,
To steal Mjölnir from Thrym...
Your hairy legs, those frilly knicks -
I can’t unsee thatGrim.

And down the pub, the weekly quiz -
You’re just not up to scratch!
(Plus, you think that foreplay is
A doubles tennis match.)

SoHere’s the thingI met your dad,
The one-eyed war god Odin,
Now there’s a man! So strong! So bad!
My girl-bits were exploding!

He’s also God of poetry,
His flow’s too hot to handle!
And Valhalla could be home for me -
It just needs drapes and candles!

So, sorry that you had to hear
this from a talking raven:
It’s overOdin waved his spear, 
And now it’s HIM I’m craving!



1st April 2018
For Love Letter II Contest sponsored by Viv Wigley


Poem Details | by Peter Lewis Holmes |
Categories: humor,

Let Rip the Farts of Love and War


I love to fart, it stands me tall,
the raucous rumbling, belly bell,
all look around with eyes aghast,
to witness such a mighty  blast.

when before the beak for slander foul,
I gave him one that made him scowl,
“does Sir require a time alone?”
I farted down his crony’s phone.

and if I’m lauded, like Le Potomane,
I light one to produce a tongue of blue
incandescent flame; thus lit, the room
and shadows prance, about the room
the dragons  dance

and when in battle we cower from gun,
and want to encourage my comrades on,
I crouch below hell’s muddy trench, and 
thus release the devil’s stench

then running forward death all around, I 
fart the bugle’s curdling sound, and to
the enemy’s quick dumbfound, so
soon we seize triumphant ground 

you see for me it is no shame, to unleash 
the belly’s dogs of war, and oft when
travelling by first class, I give them a blast 
from boiling ass

when love speaks strong and passion cries,
beneath the sheets there are no lies, so ahhs!!
or Oohs!!  I never start, but let rip a lover’s
orgasmic fart

look:  tis not the wallet, watch or jewel, that 
creates the jinx, and mocks the fool, a prettier 
penny lies beneath;
tis the fart; and jealous mule, the thief.


Poem Details | by Francis J Grasso |
Categories: boyfriend, first love, girlfriend, humor, nonsense,

Is You

“Is you a gurl or is you a boy”, she said to him one day.
“Come over here an' stay wit' me,” he said, “You'll find out when we play!”                                                                            
“No I will not play wit' you, I do not play wit' boys.
I do not like 'deir dirty face, I do not like 'deir toys!”

“I have no toys as you kin' see, my face is fresh and clean.
Come over here an' play wit' me, try not to be so mean.”
“I am not mean I'm cautious of you looking for your kicks
I know you boys wit' out no toys make gurls do naughty tricks!”
 
“But wait, I do have toys,” he yelled as she turned to walk away.
“My toys are in my pocket, come here so we kin' play.”
“Your pockets are all empty, as I kin' plainly see.
So keep your fat mout' shut and 'dem big eyes offa' me!”

“Wait, wait, wait please play wit' me, we'll have a lot a fun.
I got a bat an ball wit' me, why do you have to run!”
“'Dat bat ain't made to hit 'dat ball, you can't play no game with 'dose.
Besides I'm not suppose ta' have no fun, I'll ruin my new clothes.”

“I wanna' be your friend ya' know, lets just sit an' talk.
Here put 'dis flower in your hair an maybe we kin' walk.”
“I'll take dat' walk if we just talk an' you look straight ahead,
An' if you try to play wit' me I'll bust you in yer' head.”

“Here have another flower, maybe 'dat will make you grin,
walkin' in da' moonlight, it ain't no kinda' sin.”
“I is afraid of moonlight, could ya' please hold my tremblin' hand.
Just be sure to keep in mind I ain't yer' promise land.”

“Your hand feels soft an' warm to me, it feels so heavenly.
I wish 'dat we could sit and talk, beneath 'dat chestnut tree.”
“'Dat tree is full of spiny nuts, the ground is covered wit' dew.
If we sit 'dare I'll pinch my buns and ruin my tutu.”

“'Dat tutu is such a little thing, here put it in my sack,
I got a big ole' blanket in 'dare, let's spread it out and yak.”
“Okay, but please remember I'm just a innocent tease,
I do not know about 'dose birds, I never seen no bees.”

“Thank you for remindin' me, I knew 'dat from the start.
I only wanted you to see my tacky wacky heart.”
“I'm really likin' you boyfriend, I'll stay wit' you a while,
Mom an' dad won't ever know, so now jus' make me smile.” 
 

written April 29, 2016


Poem Details | by old man emu |
Categories: humor, love,

Jenny and Lenny hook up

Lenny was 30 and still living with his old cheese, everyone called, Lenny’s mum.
She was always on his Cadbury Snack to go find a trouble and strife for a chum.
“Geez, leave off mum, I’ve been looking down at the Punchbowl rubbity Dub”.
“Well Lenny, go to the grab a granny at the Rissole, Fridý night will ya luv”.

Friday came, Lenny put on his best bag of fruit and fired up his old VS Dunny Door.
With his pay in his sky rocket as he hit the frog and toad with the peddle to the floor.
Mum put some of dad’s old brill cream in his Fred Astaire before he left the house.
“Be good Lenny, me little china plate, if ya need a lift home give me a Wally Grout”.

Jenny was on the rock ‘n’ roll so she saved up her oxford scholars for a big night out.
She wasn’t flash to look at, with her bifocal monkey’s arses but she had a good jam tart.
She walked into the Rissole, tilting her leg as she let rip a decent Royce Hart.
Her dad would’ve said, “A bit more choke and it would’ve made you start”.

Jenny met Lenny at the near ‘n far, knowing he was giving her the old Captain Cook.
Introductions made and Lenny thought she was a bit of alright, as he had a second look.
They hit it off after Jenny’s Third vodka and Lenny’s fifth schooner of pigs ear.
Feasting on bar snacks of party dogs eyes, Jenny dripping the dead horse in Lenny’s beer.

A couple of young blokes walk up to Jenny and tried to give her Reg Grundies a flick.
Jenny started throwing cut lunches, smashing him on the Lionel Rose, then gave him a kick.
Lenny intervened, saying, “We don’t want any froth and bubble.” Before thing got nasty.
He took Jenny outside screaming, “He’s got a face like a half eaten pasty”.

And that’s how Lenny and Jenny met, Lenny’s mum was happy seeing Lenny with stars in his mud pies.
They got cash ‘n carried, had a couple of billy lids, that loved to eat burgers and fries.
It’s not at all romantic, but that’s how most Aussie love stories go.
Lenny and Jenny together forever, They’re mates most of us will know.


Poem Details | by Lyric Man |
Categories: angst, anxiety, fantasy, fear, humor, love, scary,

VANESSAs LIP

Vanessa was 
the college campus beauty queen
and she'd set 
her brown eyes on me
We were both 
captivated at first sight
two love birds 
as happy as could be
Friend, 
Vanessa had a beautiful body
just to look at her 
would make me high
And my mind
it was taking me places
that were dangerous
I can not deny

By Thanksgiving 
I had bought the ring
traveled to West Virginia 
to meet her mom
Her dad had split 
when she was young
it'd been years 
since they’d seen Tom
I was so excited
I almost wet my pants
Vanessa and me 
were finally at her house
This girl
she looked like Heaven's angel
in her sheer 
almost see through blouse

Up the stairs 
we stood at the front door
a final look 
and she winked with her lash
Her mom came 
and she opened the door
she stood there 
sporting a thick mustache
Filled with pure panic 
that I couldn't hide
I saw a coming hint 
above Vanessa's lip
When they went 
into the kitchen for tea
it was my chance 
and I gave them the slip

~Lyric Man

Note: Just a little fun write that’s mostly trueCall me shallow, I know.but a girls gonna look like her mom one day ;)I was young and scaredI fled from ole Vanessa and never looked back.(We were not actually engaged).


Poem Details | by Gail Foster |
Categories: bird, heart, humor, irony, love, myth, pain,

The Gift of Eros


The Gift of Eros

Aloft flies Eros; mischief fluttered wings
With silent rustle whisper overhead
By arrows pierced; the hearts of knaves and kings
The chilly grave, the restless lover’s bed
Blue London air, red Piccadilly light
Above the shifting crowd and constant noise
In summer heat, in neon and the night
He aims his slender bow with perfect poise
Aloft flies Eros; underneath his feet
As shadows of the Circus slowly shift
I contemplate my own love, bitter, sweet
The wound that Eros wrought in me, the gift
And as I turn my tears up to the sky
A pigeon drops an arrow in my eye

by Gail




















Poem Details | by Sam Perkins |
Categories: death, humor, judgement, love hurts, people, poetry,

Black Ballad

The time is always wrong and consciousness is a deformed perception of reality we combine with artificial thought.
Prove you're here prove you're thereTruth is everywhere in secret and fabrication is the child of mind raised under surveillance of the third eye

Capture the same kidnapped brain punctured and branded by darkness where shadows of sanity are abducted in a recent survey taken for centuries we've ventured through and found nothing except our own delusions

Man made engineers engineering man kind and steering our futures into catastrophe starting as one until its ruled and barred in a society who lack the acceptance of its population
The proof stays digging it self out from under cover and stolen and hidden within us and we don't know its instigation.

Don't ask questions if you don't want to hear the answersWe dance with satyrs and ghouls and demons in a place we call home feeling safe with alarms on our cars and homes and where's the dogs we love so much and lost while shopping

We crave and rip us apart creating this world they charge us to live inside talking about space travel only large corporations can pay for while we ran out of goods and supplies while hating us with new dreams through insomnia

Carbon footprints attacking us and terrorists escaping to the desert and we scream vengeance knowing its gods so we betrayed him and call it valuedEmpathy turns to violence and we let itCompassion becomes rape and we condone itSoul is now hollow and absent and perhaps it wasn't ever there and is just a name

Words are conjoined sounds we make and understand untill tomorrows new sound has wheeled up like a vehicle of communication between language barriers bare of contentWe're here now for removal without avoidanceEmotion is lost, hope is neglected, depressions our life's, debt is our existence and death is our friend


Poem Details | by Dale Gregory Cozart |
Categories: humor, love,

The Pickler's Wife

The young pickler's wife was quite fickle, one day warm then a cold icicle. But now she's amorous, dressed up quite glamorous. She's tickled the young pickler's pickle!


Poem Details | by Viv Wigley |
Categories: humor, love,

Still love



When we first met, in love we used to glide
on waves of bliss like pairs of sunglow swans,
now we slowly totter,and try to hide
our orthopaedic socks and thick long johns.
We still hold hands like back on that first date
but now it's less a gesture, decades on
else I'd walk off ahead then have to wait
while you found something firm to lean upon.
You said you'd like a skirt to match your eyes
I did my very best but must confess
I went to every shop but no-one buys
or maybe no-one sells a bloodshot dress.
 you run your fingers through my hair a bit,
these days I marvel just how fast it goes
these greying locks ,well, what remains of it,
from off my scalp and southwards to my nose.
Annoying habits met with just a sigh,
you snoring on the sofa after tea
or ducking as my nail clippings shoot by,
or leaving used bags out when making tea.
Love's outer shell is merely just it's name,
 inside it's precious pearl remains the same.


Poem Details | by John Beam |
Categories: destiny, funeral, humor, imagination, introspection, irony, mystery,

I love a good plot

The skeletal remains are being chalked out,
while mystery and intrigue are engraven, cryptic.
Lying beneath, this freshly seeded idea;
upon these grounds, the words are etched,
what are you looking for and how will you get it,
for these are but the bare bones of a story.
The key alone is in your closet, slowly turning,
as you opened the creaking rusted door.
You slowly peep inside the mausoleum of your mind,
where cobwebs hang on every angle.
Suddenly, a cold swift draft blows across your spine,
as if someone has just, walked on your grave.
You look up to see, all the entrapping’s laid
but then again, you are still lying in a good plot.


Poem Details | by Michael Vacek |
Categories: humor, humorous, love,

Falling in Love Isn't Hard to Do

For the life of me I can't understand, Why you can't fall in love. I never bring roses on a first date, Always opting for a live dove. You hit the linoleum so quick, Without even the slightest shove. As the front door slammed, off your feet you were knocked. Almost fell off the chair, As you drank whilst I talked Tripped over my left foot, As we danced interlocked. Almost passed out with, An allergic reaction to steak? Jumped out of my car before, I could even hit the brake. Broke year heel running away, Tumbling over the hidden rake. You're lucky I caught you when, You fell back from my first kiss. This whole night has been, Full of the 'falling' near miss. Fall in love with me one more time, I know, I will sweep you off you feet into eternal bliss


Poem Details | by Jessica Amanda Salmonson |
Categories: animal, dog, happy, humor, joy, love, pets,

Spenser

My name is Spenser
No dog is denser
I'm not well smarted
But I'm big hearted
If you was hurted
I'd be alerted
And I'll come racing
To lick your facing.