Comedy/Humor

Meat...

Folder: 
Words Of Wisdom

To a man

His meat Is like a video game

When it gets hard

You have to beat to win

If you don't you lose

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A Falling Leaf

Laying under an Oak tree one sunny day
A falling Leaf caught my eye as it floated away
It floated solemnly through the sky as if to imitate a feather
Only you can guess the season by this one, and perhaps even the weather

For we all know that the leafs begin to fly away at the first of fall
So that a new leaf may begin to sprout in spring, this I recall
So by that leaf much can be learned by the watchful eye
We know for instance as it floats to the ground it is its time to die

Nature’s cycle nears its end for this little guy afloat
So that he may decay and nurture life, so I've seen it wrote
We know that he began as a lively and radiant autumn leaf
And that he danced in the wind, and played in the rain so brief

Now his time has ended, yet he is still a part of natures plan
For as he fertilizes the grass, he is reincarnated somewhere throughout the land
Perhaps now he has become a spry blade of grass or even a flower
Perhaps a small insect or even a tree that may tower

No matter what lesson you learn from that falling leaf
You are sure to remember that life is really brief
So dance in the wind and play in the rain
Enjoy this life while you can, your destiny lies on that plain

P.S. We all become fertilizer in the end!

By: Wayne Hoss

Oh! The Horror!!!!

 

OH!  THE HORROR

 

                 Edward Iacona

 

 

It’s Halloween time once again and

There’s the question some parents fear.

As their children are may surely ask,

What shall I go as this year?

 

The standard fare of witches and Ghosts

Have become very cliché you know

And even vampires and zombies

Have movies or a T.V. show

 

One can’t go as a bum or hobo

That does not show them respect.

A fierce Indian is also taBOO.

It is now not politically correct.

 

A proper Halloween haunt takes a unique knack.

If one wants a sweet snack for their tummy

As even a little kid knows the plain fact

That no one will want their mummy.

 

Now going as a terrorist

Might be an idea that’s hot           

But, who would want to give one treats

And it might just get one shot.

 

A mysterious visitor from outer space

With a little odd twist because

Who would refuse an alien treats when

It’s holding a GREEN CARD in their claws.

 

So, if your child comes to you

With this annual costume question;

I will submit this rather simple idea

For a fine costume suggestion.

 

What is needed is a genuine monster

That is blood thirsty, ruthless and cruel.

A creature that is nasty and vicious

And has the morals of a true life ghoul.

 

Just put them in a nice dress or suit

With a briefcase to take on their journey

And they will comeback with it full of goodies

Going trick or treating as an attorney.

 

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The new vasectomy

A new kind of vasectomy is being performed but it's not a hit.
When men learn how it's performed, all of them have a fit.
It's the same thing that happens when vets neuter dogs and cats.
Becoming a eunuch isn't appealing and we men won't accept that.

When the surgeon told me what he was going to do, I hit the ceiling.
I kicked his ass up and down the street, now he'll spend months healing.
Wives like the new vasectomy but men won't stand for it at all.
These surgeons may take our dignity but they won't take our balls.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is a fictional poem.

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The Antelope.

Folder: 
Comedy Poems.

I walked out the door.
Happy as can be.
I felt so nice.
My balls felt free.

The air felt fresh.
It smelled like soap.
But there it was.
An antelope.

It stared at me.
It was so buff.
It opened its mouth.
I seen it puff.

I turned around.
And I seen another.
This one was bigger.
It was the mother.

It opened its pocket.
And grabbed a grapple.
She threw it at me.
It hooked my apple.

I need a plan.
And i need it fast.
Or my sack of potatoes.
Are going to blast.

I turned on my chainsaw.
I felt it roar.
I aimed for the privates.
And the beast was no more.

A lesson is told.
If you don't have a gun.
Guard your batteries.
And then you should run.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Do not try this at home.

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I am mentally challenged. Part 1

Folder: 
Comedy Poems.

The plane fell down.
It squished my cat.
Splattered the curtains.
And destroyed the mat.

I ate a sandwich.
It tasted like sex.
I went to Walmart on
a Tyrannosaurus Rex.

I ate some spaghetti.
And some 2 dollar cakes.
Still Had some money.
So I bought some rakes.

Went to the bucket.
To get some chicken.
Kernal was there.
He was finger lick'n.

His mouth had opened.
He was gulping the juice.
I looked outside,
and I seen a moose.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is what I have to live with.
This is what I am thinking of on a daily basis.

I hope enjoy my amazing poem. I think it is great work.
A masterpiece.

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Taking candy from a baby

Taking candy from a baby isn't as easy as it looks.
I got the crap beat out of me for the candy I took.
The baby's father was muscular and he stood 7 feet 5.
He beat me so hard that i'm damn lucky to have survived.
I threw a punch at that large man but sadly i missed.
He punched me in the crotch because he was pissed.
He burned off my hair with a blow torch.
I couldn't get a date for months because my bald head was scorched.
I have something to say and I don't mean maybe.
Don't never ever take candy from that man's baby.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is a fictional poem.

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Joke is better

Keeps complaining poetess
That under stress and duress
There is no life and no peace
That's no good, my dear Miss, but where is our post police ?

Others got creative flow
Going fast or going slow
So we have poetic flood
Burying us in verbal mud

Lots of words of crying hell
From ones so hurt, they can't get well
Loosing life's endurance,
With no health insurance

Being heart broken and love sick
Empathy those writers seek
There is no place for joking
Tears got me choking

I myself can not complain
Except for age and mental pain
In the ass, which was once head
Where used to brain I had

Some like white bread, others rye
Joke is better than the cry
Let's postpone the crying
Till the time of dying
 

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Meet Your Maker

Hello Sir Maker, remember me?
You've seen me once, twice, maybe three.
Instead you snicker, run and hide,
me thinking your returns will subside.
Oh never!
For I know your show,
the stage is set, c'mon, let's go!
I will take a seat to watch this play,
watch you admire my life's decay.
Sly grins become your luring seed,
on a quota to collect its morbid need.
Oh, don't stop, I am entertained,
I can smile too without any shame.
Would you like to dance,
for old time's sake?
But of no refuse,
let us sit down, have cake!
 

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