Most Commented Humor Poems (1,865)

Howdee partner,
can I call you Jesse James,
a fine write you have there mister.
it's all good old name of the game!

from folks down Dakota south,
boy you got us talking all the way up north,
I ain't hinting and saying all that,
you got us where you want us, I'm just saying lad.

Now Indians and cowboys,
oh what the heck boy,
forgotten what's like those good old days,
you bring all those back with a little whack and bang.

Tis just the way we used to play,
with water bombs and toy guns,
county and woods and a rush of adventure,
bring the whole group of folks together.

by the way I've got news for you,
if you are the kid I've heard from the news,
there's a price on your tiny head,
A hundred gold coins and the most wanted!

even Billy the kid ain't tough enough,
to brush your name from tis page ,
I'll be waiting for you at poets corner,
for a western duel here at high noon.

you got your cowboy hat,
I'll bring my Indian Axe,
tis town ain't big for both of us,
its either you,me or the rest of the pack!

I'm known from tis part of town,
as Ancient Bullman the red Indian,
I've got Cafe to watch my back,
On your corner who do you have?

and when its all over,
we'll run faster than the wolves,
to take a frantic cover,
from the county famous sheriff!

they say he is Lightning Macduff,
and strike fears with his name,
always leaving behind his cuffs,
riding on a big horse log!

Good day, Ma'am is that you Miss Daisy?
Say you won't happen to know about my cousin,
She goes by the name Cherry bunny,
and she has a mighty lucky bunny feet!

Would you join me in Pow Wow?
with the rest of the family,
we'll do a thousand jumping Jacks,
while Jesse Will show you the ropes to Rodeo!

Slightly cloudy with a chance of rain
Dismal skies colored in gray
Gently pierced by flaming swords of a hidden sun
Where inspiration has gathered my strength to move on
I march with determination, one foot in front of the other
Throwing my hopes and its weights over my shoulders
Beginning my journey to where the land meets the sea
Following the imprints of man here before me
I fear nothing now, not the current nor the waves
I stand here with my rod before you on this day
Casting this life way high into the skies
To land in the depths created by tides
What creature stalks my pray as I patiently await
A look at life's last moments living afraid
The deeper I get I move with the water
Becoming one with reflections in it's glorious power
Feeling the tugs no time to make a choice
Stripped of my moment I cried out in an utterly voice
Enraged I throw down my rod and I quickly grabbed my spear
I lost my patience with bait and now my dinner is here

There is something
very strange happening
in Ireland today
definitely leprechauns
someone each night
keeps lifting
my socks

I would say
in winter
it looks like
a rainbow land
every different colour
has gone missing


No matter
where I look
never can seem
to find them
I do believe
they use them
as winter hats

One they are dam
cosy on the feet
the other day
I saw a sock
running through
the hawthorn bushes
thought I was seeing things
just vanished
into thin air
kidnapping I call it
leaving a lonely sock

Now I
make my plea
to the little people
please give me back
my socks
these feet
are missing you

I am fast
running out
of pairs
I have
only a few
pairs left
you cheeky
little devils
so please stop
stealing my socks

most treasured
golden possession
unfolding my memories
petals holding
feelings with you
my budding rose

as you slowly bloom
in each reflection
a beautiful image
like a mirror
a flash back
in memories

looking upon you
in my mind
a ever
so beautiful memory
growing petal emotions
a rose
with love

I see you from across the room !
You look like a flower in bloom !
I can't take my eyes off of you !
I want you!
No! I gotta have you!
I don't want to get all sappy !
But I know we can be happy !
Your perfect in my eyes !
To have you would be a prize !
I promise to treat you
Ever so gently !
Never leave you empty !
I wanna take you home !
Promise to never leave you
Alone !
You will always have a special place !
Where I can always see your face!
I'm gonna lay you
On some lace !
For you know
I have good taste !
Let's go ! no time to waste !
I promise will be together
For ever !

The secret to a joyous happy ride
is the knowing when to run and
where to hide.

Do not willingly tempt your fate.
Never ever try to rush her even
when she’s late.

Do not ever try or help to pick
a dress in the shop hanging there
on the stick

Enjoy the life without the stress or crap;
Use your common sense and put a lock
on your trap.

To spend your days with little noise
stay at home and never try to go out
with the boys.

If you truly want a blissful happy life
you will quickly learn to woo and
please your wife.

My advice to you is short and clear
be the least and always try to say:
Yes my dear.

For many weeks
I searched high and low
Among soggy cheese sandwiches
Covered with a green dough
Under the bed
With an amount of trepidation
But only found a refugee
From some far off Nation
I checked every drawer
In my very tall chest
And found another refugee
In a very dirty white vest
Behind the sofa
Amidst a furore of dust
No bottle of love
Just a mouldy old pie
With a very hard crust
I searched the kitchen
Though staring evil eyed potatoes
And a mountain of old greens
Then found it hiding
Behind a decrepit tin of beans
I drank with a lust
Hoping to find my lost mate
Then noticed the bottle
Was ten years out of date
My stomach churned
And my blood did boil
And next my trousers
I really did soil
So there is a moral
To a sad and lonely tale
Stick to the sell by date
Or your love life will fail

out upon the sea of known
a woman of letters, was clearly shown
all the letters of the alphabet
from omega and back, to pick and get

she'd hook and pluck up from the sea
the wild letters, caught for free
and hoist to a basket, for meal of word
a repast delightful, of words absurd

on the cusp of the waves, she'd flip an E
back to the boat to spell, for freE
in the trough of the wave, a capital T
to cook up a Tale, for you and me

all the letters mixed, to words were added
words stirred to phrases, and lines padded
the lines lined up, to stanzas built
while stanzas splashed, to poems spilt

and all the poems, upon her deck
weighed down the boat, on rocks to wreck
and quickly sank her poetic rhymes
to the bottom of oceans, of literary crimes

© agoodguy2have 2010-07-15

“Things are not as they appear to be. Nor are they otherwise.”
—some Sutra

“Quantum mechanics, has remained the preeminent scientific description of physical reality for 70 years. So far all of its experimental predictions have been confirmed to astounding degrees of accuracy.”

Electrons can behave as both particles and waves. As waves, electrons have no precise location but exist as “probability fields.” When they are not measured, electrons are waves. When they are observed, they become particles. The world[includes you and me…] is ultimately
constructed out of elementary particles that behave in this curious way.

Q. Who or what is the observer that determines the location of the particle? Is there an ultimate observer? Can we be conscious of that observer? What do you think you would see if you looked through the eyes of the ultimate observer? How would that make my personal day different? How are we affected by others’ observations?
Does every observer affect the world the same way?
What causes differences? Can I really create my day the way I want it, or is this idea just some new-age crap?
[For example, can a Greek goddess, or heck, any other kind of goddess wake me up every morning with my favorite Arabian brew, in my multimillion-dollar home on a magnificent cliff, overlooking the great barrier reef? Heck, its obvious from quantum physics, that we’re suckers who settle for far less than we should… ]

I'd stick to the wall
stay out of sight
keeping wing buzz low key

Paste on big ears
listen to words
cover my mouth hidin the laugh

Under the table I'd hang upside down
listen to talk....talk of the town
I'd pen every line a word at a time
fly to the window when timing was right

If I was a fly I'd be a well schooled fly
fly swat's in miss I'll never die
I'd hear all the talk behind your closed door
if I were a fly could we talk. . . . please say more~