Most Commented Humor Poems (1,865)

The Fledgler’s rusting Lada rumbles determinedly down the middle lane of the M5 southbound, their caravan veering desperately behind, swinging across the carriageway at varying angles between 30% and 60%, evoking unprecedentedly vile verbal volleys from the Respectable British Road User.
Mrs Fledgler sits emphatically in the passenger seat, bosoms quivering with outrage, maintaining a running commentary on the suggested management of every approaching vehicle.
Her hat today is a singularly jolly affair, a straw saucer-like contraption swathed in old yellow ribbons that look suspiciously like used crepe bandages, causing her head to take on the appearance of a badly wrapped parcel.
Settling into her routine, Mrs Fledgler is standing at the caravan sink on a pair of pale, puffy ankles, dabbing at her drab, voluminous draws with some diluted travel wash, conscious of being a picture of ‘English Holiday Respectability.’ She pegs her sagging apparel on to an improvised line, thus marking out Fledgler territory from those of less worthy disposition.
Mr Fledgler is dozing uneasily in a deckchair, emitting ominous rumblings as the gases from three forced helpings of dubious looking beef and carrot stew jostle and vie for space in the confines of his small intestine.
Suddenly there is s loud rustle, and a trio of two sheep and a ram make a guest appearance on site, having escaped from a neighbouring field. The ram cautiously and with precision, lifts the remains of Mr Fledgler’s egg and tomato sandwich, but becomes overly excited at the sight of the bright khaki green nylon slacks and, watched by his admiring posse, gives Mr Fledgler’s left lower leg a deep nibble.
The poor man awakes with a start and gravitates 45% into an upright position, bloodshot eyes at an exact level with the rams, whilst simultaneously relinquishing a deep belch.
Horrified, the ram turns 180% and bolts for its life but unfortunately gets its horns caught on Mrs Fledgler’s hanging draws, and heads off in an utter panic with them held aloft, like a partially inflated sail.
Two tipsy, bandy- legged elderly men give chase gamely, but suffer a severe and simultaneous collision with the farmer’s collie, which has just arrived at its best ever top speed of 34.5 mph, in frenzied pursuit of the escapees. As the dog gets its wind back, the sheep trio, like the three stooges, head speedily off towards the town centre.
Our poor Mrs Fledgler is left murmuring little moue’s of distress, for stitched neatly into the back seam of the bloomers are the letters, Mrs F. Fledgler, 9 Beaver Crescent, SE1......

he's a fly-by-night guy
she sits still in green
lights by her waving fan
and gently touches a hair
most beautiful thing he's seen

he's enraptured and touches
in a blink, she snaps at him
shut out, shut in, captured
blithely she slowly signifies
he's ensnared by her whim

he wriggles and writhes
flutters wings and tries
to escape her tight clutches
but resistance is futile
flies demise by surprise

© agoodguy2have 2010-03-20

eulogies and elegies
rhythms and melodies
limericks and odes
meters and modes

poetry and prose
maybe's and knows
lyrics and lines
cadence's and rhymes

we say and we sing
'bout most anything
can banter or preach
a blog or a speech

a stanza of sonnet
fourteen lines upon it
to pour out a thought
of wisdom or naught

we can offer a narrative
allude to comparative
a haiku of some measure
for your reading pleasure

a few lines of verse
but keep it quite terse
Shakespeare well knows
'most anything goes

to say and to write
all day and all night
a quatrain sounds good
but might be misunderstood

so i write now to you
what, i haven't a clue
and think i've said 'nough
'bout this poetry stuff

© agoodguy2have 2010-03-22

The last couple of weeks have felt like the world has spat in my face,
Big insult to a Mediterranean,
Come to think of it, for anybody, I guess...
The world is so full of woes and foes,
How do you balance it all?

It reminds me of an age-old story:
This energetic, ambitious and successful young European businessman happened upon an African sitting outside his hut on his butt drinking sorghum beer,
“Man, don’t you have any ambition?”
“Ambition, what’s that...?” asks the African,
“Its the desire to get up early in the morning, go to work, and to build a fortune you’ll be proud of, instead of just sitting on your butt drinking beer all day while those around you work hard...”, says the Yuppie,
“Say”, says the African, “after I have worked hard all my life as you propose and amass great wealth, what will I do then?”
“Well”, replies the Yuppie, “you’ll then be able to retire.”
“Retire, what’s that?”
“Well, you’ll be able to sit on your butt drinking beer whilst others are...”,
At this point a very heavy frown begins to crease the yuppies forehead...,
“Never mind,” he mumbles rather nervously, “forget everything I told, you, you’re already there...”
Don't let the bastards grind you down...

You spoke of love undying,
In email number one,
Although my age is sixty,
And yours is twenty-one.

And distance is no object,
In matters of the heart.
It matters not at all that we're,
Five thousand miles apart.

There's just one tiny detail,
That we must first address.
You see my mum is ailing,
Finances are a mess.

Need just a very little sum,
This mess to rearrange.
Nothing really much it's just,
Four thousand pounds and change.

Then of course I'll fly to you,
And here's my home address.
Just make it quick and darling please,
Make it a cashier's cheque.

I climbed a mountain to the top
to see a guru and ask what's up

to know of life and it's decree
give me purpose and some guarantee

the guru looked to me and spoke
and said this wise thought to provoke

I'll send you on a vision quest
to find happiness and be blessed

return across the valley and climb again
tell me what you've come to attain

so I went across the plain to the sea
scanned the horizon for sails of three

spied a ship and signed on for a year
I sailed the sea through calm and fear

like Argonaut in search of the fleece
I followed adventure instead of peace

finally jumped the ship to stranger land
down under I went on a walkabout grand

in Dreamtime on a desert so dry
with Aboriginal kindness I did sit by

a blazing fire, sparked shooting stars
we sat and spoke of kings and czars

and weighty matters of deep meaning
of times past, present and intervening

I bade goodbye the very next day
got up and continued on my way

flew to the edge of a dark continent
found a medicine man for accompaniment

we went together and healed some sick
with herbs and chants, a little shtick

in the forest we found a maiden pure
I was taken with a malady he could not cure

she was dark and alluring, fair of face
I felt rooted to this forest space

we lived for time in blissful days
'til our love cooled and we parted ways

I hiked on north to the lapping waves
and crossed a sea, my heart to save

to Tuscan skies and colorful hills
I took up painting and honed my skills

I came to some success, wealth and renown
with some coins in pocket I then left town

and walked with pack and a dog along
a guitar I procured and sang my song

to whoever would listen and drop in my cap
an offering of thanks with hands to clap

the people I met as I went on my way
touched my heart in ways hard to convey

I thought about the times gone by
return to the guru, I resolved to try

another water transit I did carry out
to get his answer of what life's about

I crossed the valley spoken of in past
and climbed the guru's mountain at last

he looked older now but wryly smiled
tell me what you've learned my wonder child

I retold all my worldly adventures traveled
the beauties seen and mysteries unraveled

then asked the guru what it all meant
and how I could live my life content

he replied that my time was wisely spent
by not worrying and staying in the present

not to look for the ends but look within
it's not the destination but the trail we've been

© agoodguy2have 2010-04-11

Nico: computer wiz... and mad Greek,
Lady’s man, and part-time actor, has a shot of him with Nicolas Cage to prove it...,
He’s the Captain of the cafe...
His mantra: if anything bad happens to you, after 5 minutes, wash it down with a cup of coffee, [which Philemon, his trusted African servant has to cook-up]forget about it and get on with life...

Andreas: ugly old cudgel with a heart of gold,
There’s always a cigarette dangling from his mouth,
He’s always buying or selling some diamond mine on the dark continent, and do you want in on the deal...???
Has, a glorious case of paranoia, he encrypts his every email,
His mantra: Google is out to get you...[he’s got more firewalls on his computer than Bill Gates has dollars in the bank..., well, er, almost, har, har...]

Andigoni: alluring Hellene beauty, of the Pisces persuasion,
Want the latest on processed food-scams, shady Aloe Vera manufacturers,
And contaminated aspirin packets? She’s your man...,
And, sometimes, she was my woman,
Sometimes? Yeah, I know it’s complicated...
Her mantra: if it’s not Certified Organic don’t touch it...

Hansie: as far as hard-nosed Afrikaners[you know, the white-supremacist apartheid types...], they don’t come any tougher,
Want a 45? He’s your man, and never mind the licence bit...,
He lucidly tells you how he’s been carrying one since he was 6, and luckily[for the cop, that is...] no dumb cop ever caught him yet...,
Got trouble with the law? No problem, he’ll break into Sing Sing to help you out...
His mantra: eat as much as you can, you never know where your next meal is coming from...

Archimedes and Leonidas: two brothers aged 9 and 11, they’re the Captain’s kids...,
They should have been named Cain and Abel, cause they’re the closest thing I’ve seen to ‘Cain slaughtering Abel’, except in this case, ‘Abel’ gave as good as he got,
I was having lunch with them and Lulu, their Mom[the Captain’s ex-wife] one day at the local Hellene sports club...,
Suddenly and for no apparent reason at all, Archimedes clobbers Leonidas on the ear,
In response, Leonidas grabs one of the cutlery implements and stabs his brother in the hand...,
The pandemonium that followed with all the ‘nice-and-proper’ Greek ladies in attendance was legendary...
Their mantra: “I’ll kill you...”

Lulu: the Captain’s ex-wife...
Terrific Greek Dancer, brainy Aquarian and chain-smoker...,
She and I downed many a glass of cabernet sauvignon together...,
That’s all, honest, after all, she was the Captain’s wife, ‘ex’ does not cut it with Greeks...,
Although the captain would ask her every now and then, so, have you and that nice Dr P fella got your act right yet?
Her mantra: “I can’t wait to leave this dump...”, which she finally did, and she’s far happier now,
Rumour has it she’s anchored on some exotic Greek isle...,
Vaya con Dios Lulu...

It wasn't his bite
It wasn't his flight
It was the eyeballs in backwards that messed up his sight
He'd get stuck in a breeze bounce off rocks into trees

Yeah he had it so bad bruised worn an torn
He decided to get a seeing eye flea
One night asleep in the bark of a tree
A tick came along an took nittee's flea

Well the tick couldn't see
Nittee's flea just saw right
The ground is much safer than a gnat with no sight!

Far more content since I've picked up a pen.
Oh no! Here comes my critic again!

"You and your thoughts are so vile!,
U cant evun spel and have another profile!"

So sorry to encrypt all my feeling
To comprehend is far past your ceiling.


I will call out your bluff,
playing comic book poker.
I am Batman

....and YOU are the Joker.

senryu on trial
all other poems on remand
Socrates guilty