humor

How to Vanish
🕯️ By moon’s last wink and candle’s sigh, Take one deep breath and don’t ask why. Fetch three crumbs from yesterday’s toast,
By Brie Boleynabout a year ago in Poets
Cloak of invisibility
Perfect the ‘Art of Disappearing’! Follow instructions below: 1. Hide in plain sight Take care, not to move. Nothing to see here!
By Angie the Archivist 📚🪶about a year ago in Poets
Til' Death Did Me Dirty
I wed for wealth, not love or flames, His touch—a curse I could not tame. His breath was meat. His skin was rot. I smiled wide and planned my plot.
By Nia Knoxabout a year ago in Poets
Numbers Are Having Fun!
Need! Go back to work? Or go back where answers lurk. He or she — so very plain, Preaches the word from their domain. How will the people respond? Numbers are having fun. Thank you for reading! Which part of the poem resonates with you? Share your thoughts. Please leave a comment. Copyright 2025 K.A. Smith
By K.A. Smithabout a year ago in Poets
Codependent Clauses. Honorable Mention in Somewhere Between Here and There Challenge. Top Story - July 2025.
From here to there, the subject and verb Seek to complete an action in thought Of object, direct, or nothing disturbed The commas will rule when festooning what's wrought
By Gerard DiLeoabout a year ago in Poets
Logbook Of A Reluctant Dog-Sitter
A pup so small, with energy so bright, Chased his tail with all his might. One quick spin—then thump, he’s down, Dreaming of that pesky tail he never found! Today, I’m on a super important job: babysitting my nephew’s puppy. Babysitting kids? I’ve done that plenty of times. But pets—and alone? Now that’s something I’ve seldom done. My nephew dropped off his puppy this morning, and now I’m sitting on the couch, watching it like a hawk. And suddenly… we’re locked in a staring contest. With a soft “Woof?”, it tilted its little head to the side—in question or maybe confusion, I’m not sure. Meanwhile, I was racking my brain, wondering how to entertain this tiny ball of energy. I put that thought on hold and went to fetch some snacks and water. But when I returned to the living room, I found the puppy already entertaining itself—wagging its tail excitedly before launching into a full-blown tail chase. Its determined little face seemed to say, “Today’s the day I catch you!” But after a few minutes, its eyes grew droopy, its legs wobbled, and it looked around as if thinking, “Why is the room spinning?” Then—flop—it collapsed on the ground. I placed the doggy bowl in front of it, and after some water and biscuits, it was out like a light. I guess it burned through all its energy. Now, I just hope it stays asleep until my nephew gets back. In the meantime, I’m suddenly in the mood for a pet movie. Any suggestions?
By Staringaleabout a year ago in Poets
Ashes of the Silent
Not the boy who painted stars on the wall of his broken school. Not the girl who dreamed of singing loud enough to drown the bombs.
By Shafi Ullah Darweshabout a year ago in Poets
Forever Hold My Peace
you’re mean and you’re rude you're obscene and a prude * pain in my ass neck and my head and I know it sounds crass but I’ve wished you were dead
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsdenabout a year ago in Poets
I Hate My Best Friend's Husband, Okay?
I Hate My Best Friend's Husband, Okay? I hate your husband. There, I said it. Not in the “he kicks puppies” way— just in the he doesn’t deserve you and it drives me insane way.
By Brie Boleynabout a year ago in Poets
The Sky
The sky is centered... All hands — makes an escapee. The sky, make land "tech"... Live... skills! Thank you for reading! Which part of the poem resonates with you? Share your thoughts. Please leave a comment. Copyright 2025 K.A. Smith
By K.A. Smithabout a year ago in Poets
“If Beauty Was a Person, I’d Ask Her This…”
Dear Beauty, If you were a person, I think I’d sit across from you in silence at first. Not because I wouldn’t have questions, But because you’ve spent years being louder than me. You were in the magazines I read at 13. You were on the Instagram posts I saved at 16. You were the girl I wasn’t, the version I thought I had to become. And yet, I never met you. So if I could talk to you — just once — Here’s what I’d ask. --- “Why did you always feel so far away?” Even when I wore what they wore. Even when I changed my walk, my hair, my laugh. Even when I didn’t eat. Even when I overthought every angle, every flaw, every picture I deleted before posting… You still didn’t show up. You made me believe you only belonged to others — girls with smoother skin, straighter teeth, smaller waists, bigger eyes, quieter mouths. Why did you let me believe I wasn’t enough? --- “Why did you punish me for growing?” When I was younger, people called me cute. But as I grew — so did expectations. Suddenly, beauty wasn’t about joy. It was a competition. Suddenly, it was about how well I could shrink. How polished I could look. How much I could hurt myself in silence and smile anyway. Every stretch mark was betrayal. Every pimple was shame. Every pound, every wrinkle, every strand of frizz — a reason to hide. Wasn’t I still human under all of it? Didn’t I still deserve to feel lovely? --- “Why did you make me invisible when I needed love the most?” On the days I was sad, no one noticed. Not because I wasn’t hurting — but because I wasn’t “glowing.” Beauty, you taught the world to praise what shines. But you forgot to tell them that the most fragile parts of me — the soft, real parts — deserve kindness too. You made me think love had a look. And that I didn’t wear it. But now I know: love has nothing to do with lashes or lipstick. And everything to do with light — from within. --- “Why did I chase you when I could have chased peace?” I spent years chasing you. I used filters, mirrors, lotions, edits, and lies. I begged for your approval in hearts and comments and compliments I barely believed. But beauty — you’re not real. You’re not a number. You’re not a dress size. You’re not the girl in the ad who probably doesn’t even recognize herself. You are a story — a dangerous, shifting, shapeshifting story. And I want to rewrite it now.
By Bellaabout a year ago in Poets
The Grut
When you feel belittle When you feel alone When you feel disrespected Just grut When you want to be notice When you want to be heard
By Distinguished Honorary Alumni Dr. Matthew Primousabout a year ago in Poets