Most Commented Humor Poems (1,865)

In the winter months you would
find me sleeping in my cave
The bones of weaker prey are
sprawled about
None dare awaken me for death
would be certain
Yet my deep slumber is disturbed
by the sent of female
With a snarl I warn all would be
contenders lurking about
I stretch and yawn and sharpen
my claws on my cave wall
I emerge to a bright morning sun
Shemale dazzles my senses
I perch on a high rock
Below, maidens are trembling in
the brush like lost lambs
It was then I thought to myself
Surely..I shall pounce on them all.

Lol

Did I say what?
O, you must have
said something..
I mean.. what?
O...you need more
coffee?
Ok
Well..It's............
FRIDAY!

Yessssssss!

Who I ask..viewed me?
Could it be you?
Was it your sister?
Or perhaps your mother?!
O, 'you said your cat stepped
on your phone and pushed
the view button'
Then tossed it to the dog
A pup you call Mutton
And don't forget the bird
with its tweet, tweet, tweet
Perhaps one day all three
I'll meet

Hello, are you there
Why should I talk to thin air
Why should you be a vapor in my mind
And all you give me is the barest essence of a good time
No picture I see
Not even you on the pc
Looking back at me
What with Skype....
And facebook
I can't even get a look
Yet you say you love me
And very interested
You seem to be
I gave you smiles,
And kind words
But only your wiles
I got in return
Be gone from me
Yes you, leave me be
It is over before it began
You are history.

There are ninety nine bottles sitting on the wall
Full of amber liquid, a delight to behold
Should I drink one empty, one soldier will fall
Now there is ninety eight left, let’s have one more

Drink the next bottle, throw empty in the bin
Ninety seven bottles, this number just won’t do
Not to drink another would be a downright sin
Ninety six is the number, let’s down a few more

I think the number’s somewhere round half gone
Something’s gone wrong, the wall has started to sway
Ground shaking badly, need something to hold on
Couldn’t be the beer I drank? Hic, I hope not

O thou trembling maiden who
thouest wouldest to meeth
be a recipient of thou mine
locks of golden har..
Thy mumbling lips doth beg
me while on bended knee
From the top of this terrace
I have snipped for thee a lock
for thine inheritance
I snip and fling my locks to
the wind and the angels doth
bare them up and place them
in your mortal hands
Go now, and showeth to the
maidens of the village with what
grace thy king hath bestowed upon
thy mortal frame
lol

Tom Fool circa sixteen fifty
This is so wild fandango nifty
Tomfoolery is to crazy behavior like
Shenanigans is to a drunken sailor
Like high jinks is to a drinking game
Of irrefutable Highland Scottish fame
Roughhousing will give a crazy spin
To drunken gambling and a dollar grin

Buffoonery orders a round of drinks
Messing with your mind me thinks
Jack and Jill are still missing links
Horse playing and tumbling down
Trying to find a broken crown
With a little dicking around

Malarkey involving secret codes
Mischief and clownery explodes
There’s that monkey business
We’ll catch you later gator
Trifling gleefully layer by layer
Huge on spells and magic wands
Gotcha! Dear John, Jon, or Juan

Tomfoolery can go way beyond
Normal everyday common insanity
However, it should always remain
Sharp as a razor (more on this later)
With comic fall down slapstick
Added generously for kicks

Things are tasting very plain,
Take one relationship fading away,
Ounce of pleasure per pound of pain,
A sprinkling of tears like rain,
Set aside and let it drain,
A couple cups of rotten luck,
Fold in a few "I hate your guts",
One "I never want to see you again" ,
And a dash of "Maybe we can be friends...",
Then at the end throw in the towel,
Viola!,
Your done,
You've a heartache now...

Do you ever take the time to look closely at the ants

Just roll up your pants,

So they don't bite you.

I did just that as I sat back in my sun lounger one hot summers day .

I saw hundreds ants come out to play,

Tho they weren't playing they were scurrying around

What were they doing they don't stop to rest,

People poison them and call them a pest.

I looked more closely to see each ant is stratistically doing their job,

But what.

Whatever it is it is important to them.

So I won't pour boiling water over them or feed them with poison.

I just don't want them to come indoors as I think they just might

So I put the sugar and food out of their sight.

Your strong stature, your winning smile and your piercing blue eyes....you tantalise !
You are such a dish, a feast for all to see and I wish you were right here cooking for me .....I fantasise !