Last Commented Humor Poems (1,868)

the 'Raven' is a diner
that lapps the sea foreshore
it haunts my mangled memory
as it raps upon my door
apple tart and finest cheesecake when I can't eat no more
yet alas quoth the raven :

ordermore!

broad bearded, prone to rages
I have slept in many cages
but I've always paid the wages
of society and more
but this subtle evil keening..
like the ghost of hungers meaning
darkens up my mind demeaning
all the goodness in my chore
still yet quoth the raven :

"ordermore!"

after working in the oceans
and toiling in it's potions
to the gym with weighted motions
to rid my thoughts of lore
ice water by the bucket
and the urge to utter 'f*ckit' '
as the ghost of fried chicken
knocks upon my chamber door
still yet quoth the raven :

ordermore!

with my car key slowly listing
and my sad eyes sadly misting
I find myself resisting
that dark relentless shore
yet the road it takes me quickly
to a shore that makes me sickly
to those arches painted thickly
with blood red signs above the door
yet alas quoth the raven

ordermore!

with my sanity at its border
the smiling waitress
takes my order
as my savagery implores her
to feed me more and more
with the devil in the kitchen
and the smells emerging bitchin'
I devour like a lion
all the carcass blood and gore
still eternal quoth the raven :

ordermore!
ordermore!
ordermore!

Worn habits to break
Elevate through sweats and ache
Spring arrived to awake


A drop of sunshine
Is brewing in bubbling brine
Dandelion wine


A school of sardines
Swam in sync into a tin
Sardines of my dreams

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 !

I CAN'T REMEMBER

Just a line to say I'm living
That I'm not among the dead,
Though I'm getting more forgetful
And mixed up in the head.

I got used to my arthritis.
To my dentures I'm resigned.
I can manage my bifocals,
But God, I miss my mind.

For sometimes I can't remember
When I stand at the foot of the stairs,
If I must go up for something,
Or have I just come down from there?

And before the 'fridge so often,
My poor mind is filled with doubt;
Have I just put some food away, or
Have I come to take some out?

And there is time when it is dark
With nightcap on my head . . .
I don't know if I'm retiring, or
Just getting out of bed.

So, if it's my turn to write you,
There's no need for getting sore.
I may think that I have written
And don't want to be a bore.

Just, remember that I love you
And wish that you were near,
But now it's nearly mail time so,
I must say goodbye, My dear.

Here I stand beside the mailbox,
With a face so very red . . .
Instead of mailing you my letter,
I've opened it instead!

I'm going down to the record station.. I'm gonna buy me a backwards jukebox.. I'm going to play all my favourite songs wearing nothing.. but my hat and my socks

and listen to Blaze.. as he sings every song.. ending to start.. and ill get all my stuff back.. my farm and my truck.. and my unbroken heart

and I'll listen to Prine.. as he sings of a wife.. who had enough and walked out.. taking my truck and my dog and my friend.. and their all driving south

the night with all of its darkness
will fade away to a day.. and that old freight train travelling west
will go backwards the way

I'll try to be nicer as everyone said I was nasty and mean.. but I'll keep certain comforts.. my mountain dew still and my lover.. Charlene

the debt on the farm that was drowning me.. will ebb away to my shins.. and even God will get happy.. as every day I'll be.. handing back sins

I can honestly say it's gravy man
and I don't owe a buck.. and everyday that I wake up.. there somehow seems to be gas in my truck

Your just like canderel, the artificial sweetener. full of shite I dont understand. not real and leave's a bitter after tasting pill. need double the amount just to compensate. dissolves in second's, but remains. that slightly unnatural feeling it proclaims. thanks I won't say no names. your not chaste or pure. your unrefined and flawed. the best part dissected, removed of heart and reason, all of what you are is omitted. you sow your grains ,you where never committed .only to the free. i'm glad your not in my cup of tea!

Lol x

At yelping speed she travelled
across an emerald lawn,
pursued by gnarling nightmares
as the darkness nipped the dawn.

Her ears, amber triangles,
bush glittering crystal dew,
body sleek with rivulets,
glowed red with exhaustion's hue.

Her heart palpating bass drums
and panting loud, fit to burst,
'glimpsed a shadow by the gate,
Her escape route surely cursed.

A lolloping great mastiff
of the Herculean type
roused apathetic eyelids
to investigate the hype.

No options left, the vixen
hugged the ground, then made a leap
to clear canine and gate and
safely saunter home to sleep.

"What IF" I'd tell my thinking,(IF my old brain could be told),
the little "IF" word wasn't there?, Would we have thoughts to hold?

Imagination would be gone IF we did not have "IF",
then conversation would stagnate and intellect be stiff.

"IF only" would not be our cry, when we were feeling sad
and what IF "what IF"s weren't so? Then no dream to be had.

"I would" would also be defunct, IF "IF" could not be there.
We'd only have, "I will", "I did", "I do", or "I don't care".

How limiting without our "IF"!, What possibles we'd lose!
We'd have to forfeit logic and our basic right to choose

So many flashbacks
One more year took a spin
To start new again

Hop on the last train
En route to new adventures
Take a rowdy ride!

I stand beside a carp filled lake like glass,
A place where fairies oft flit to and fro.
You would not like my job so well, although
I do it for the Upper Middle Class.

My job is to amuse Sir's family,
Look cute, as I stand there , all two foot nine,
Red pointed hat atop my head so fine
and little gnome house built beneath the tree.

This morning when the sun soft lit the sea
My grunts and roars all through the vale arose,
When Sir attacked me with a garden hose.
The rude device was meant to make me pee.

The fairies hid for fear they would be next,
No longer laughing now that Sir seemed vexed.


~~~~~~~~~~~


He had a mind to make me water seeds.
His sprinkler system did not far extend,
So figuring to use me to that end
He plumbed, to let my tinkler do the deeds.

By noon my old wheelbarrow was long gone.
The Koi looked on quite open-mouthed with shock
As water gushed from out my hat and sock
While Sir's expletives just went on and on.

The afternoon was similar 'till three
When Sir struck gold with piece of copper plate
With which he prodded, worked on long past eight,
A drill producing functionality.

All done! Too late for him to see, Alas!,
The "pee" was squirting out my blushing a**