Most Commented Humor Poems (1,865)

Lifted by a breeze
Dreams transform into clouds
Sparkling drops return

No air left to breathe
Flowing sky following you
Vacuum for me

Locked in the closet
The skeleton felt confined
Those dirty secrets

The night was dragging
Nightmares kept coming back
Rooster did not care

Have you know brain
For deleting the poem Criminally Insane
You need to explain why?
You have destroyed a work of art and
Show no empathy or shame

Is because your jealous
Or is it because your very sad
If you want my opinion
It's because your small minded and incredibly BAD

It's okay for scammers and fools
To insult the man
Be honest and decent
Your poem gets deleted and are facing a ban

So why not comment on the poem mod
Instead of being silent and acting like PC plod
Is it me or is it you
That abuses poetry and art
Just give us a clue

C D B, D B C ME, WHEN D B C ME I C D B 2!

The air this morning is redolent with fried bacon and an unparalleled opportunity to 'be seen to do the right thing in public'. Mrs Fledgler is in pensive mood as she swabs furtively at her various fold selection with a grey/white, slightly slimy flannel.
Mr Fledgler is indisposed and has been quarantined upstairs following an unexplained laxative overdose. He is reading the Daily Star peaceably, interrupted on occasion by little puffs of spontaneous emissions of a highly noxious concentrate.
As she steps up into the welcoming Hearse, Mrs Fledgler’s brand new black hat crouches uneasily on top of a super springy new perm, rather like a malevolent and disreputable cat. Each time the hearse brakes, the hat lunges diabolically towards her left ear in an acute Easterly direction, causing the lady to expend considerable energy in ensuring it manifests its correct alignment. As she sits upright in the vehicles plush, black interior, palpitating proudly, her dress persists in its spontaneous upward shift, revealing an unprecedented and shocking diplay of patella only partially disguised by a yellow support hose that has the appearance of a severely dehydrated caterpillar.
On arrival at the graveside, there is a little outbreak of squabble as the ladies fight to stand closest to the vicar, but then the service proceeds in a practiced and well-oiled fashion.
Speaking of which, The vicar was just annunciating the hymn, 'Immortal, Invisible, God only Wise’ when shouting was heard in the distance. This soon took on an distinctly Irish note, as Joe Macnulty, flushed and exuberant from a previous wake, looms unsteadily towards them, preceded by a thick cloud of foul smoke.
Little putters of disapproval are emitted from the good ladies, however they are all secretly rather enthralled and hold out hope for considerable scandal..
Joe is by now experiencing significant difficulty in maintaining an upright position, and as he reaches the periphery of the grave, he finally looses his battle with gravity and drops backwards quite suddenly, at an acute angle of 45%, like a skittle. The shock, which is severe, results in him being parted from his cigarette, which flies through the air and lands accurately but perpendicularly on the rim of Mrs Fledgler’s hat, like a well aimed nuclear interception devise.
As the veil ignites, the shocked gathering spring valiantly into action, swatting violently at the incandescent hat with rolled up newspapers, brollies and The Bible.
The force is so severe that Mrs F herself then looses her stability and topples forwards into the freshly dug ground, extinguishing the flames and sustaining a severe penetrating blow to the left occiput on the handle of the coffin.
As the sirens start to moan in the distance and the good ladies minister to her ineffectually with Joe Macnutly's hip flask, Mrs Fledgler wonders how she will ever come to terms with the shame of ‘having had a public fall.’

I Most humbly do beg your pardon
That I have caused your heart to harden
I am no man youth or lout
I do not have large muscles or clout
For I am small and sweet and light
I do not wish to kill or fight
I do not like to cuss or scream
I prefer to sit and write and dream
I do not like to rant and rage
Like an actor on someone elses's stage
I see this is an never ender
And offer you my complete surrender
I am no match for you I see
The war is won twixed you and me
I will do just what you ask
No matter how rough or hard the task
There is a tiny chink within your armour
The universal law of karma
My magic power I do not use to harm
Instead I would prefer to charm
Spirits of the dark I am not invoking
So will you please stop being provoking.

Thankyou

My friend had introduced us,
That crisp late autumn day.
He'd told me she was easy,
Would let me have my way.

But she was babysitting,
Her younger brothers, three.
Had to wait until they slept,
Before she would be free.

So we necked a little while,
My hands went roaming round.
I got so damned excited,
My heart began to pound.

Then the kids came in from play,
We quickly jumped apart.
She made us all some hotdogs,
I tried to slow my heart.

When she put the kids to bed,
We necked again some more.
She checked in then after while,
They had begun to snore.

So I took her by the hand,
To lead her off to bed.
She hesitated then cause,
They may wake up, she said.

I swept her up in my arms,
And carried her to lay,
Upon the bed so sweetly.
Then closed the door to play.

The condom that I carried,
I slipped on inside out.
Of course it slipped right off,
Oh such a clumsy lout.

Was over in a moment,
My trigger was so prime.
But hey give me a break now,
It was just my first time.

When newly born
i was only small
and i never knew
inside i grew
i grew asleep
i grew at rest
in my little playpen
happy there
on top of my head
there grew hair
down through the years
up i grew
one day i would
catch up even you
in a world of giants
i was small
but i was headed
up for tall
so my feet went out
and my body up
no expansion out
not around the gut
i was waist high
to the table there
as my eyes looked on
the food just there
well my stool
left me for a chair instead
and they changed my cot
up for a bed
so on and up
this young boy grew
and all the while
my hair grew too
now at last he stood
six feet tall
never stretched
or wished or heaved
but up i went
now my toys give way
to my books and case
but my hair don't grow
it is on retreat
and low objects
catch my head once more
i was safer smaller on the floor

I T
that's how you spell it
so now you know it
next time say it with me
I T
that was hard
I know it was
so leave it to me.

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Its a dogs life
gotta tell you
wearing goggles
like these

so i m frowning
who would nt
this dog dont want
to swim in sea

so i m in a mood
look what its doing
to my appearence
and my street cred

what chance have i
of landing a date
wearing this contraption
they ve gone mad

but i ll get even
lying about
where they can
trip over me

if not the sea
its a snow job
a liberty i d say
making me look this way

it just makes
one barking
super barking
hostile barking mad.

Plumbing can be a mystery,
Though doesn't seem like it should be.
All runs downhill, or so they say,
It's all in joining 'B' to 'A'.

So why is it that when I try,
Some minor mending to apply,
All my careful preparation,
Only leads to pure frustration?

These fittings don't fit up at all,
This one's too fat and that's too small,
And leaks I try to fix it seems,
They turn themselves to steady streams.

A plumber costs too much for me,
But done for cheap ain't done for free.
Know before I complete this chore,
My fourth trip to the hardware store.