humor

Ode to a Fat Roll
Oh fat roll, How you jiggle when I walk. Slump, plump, flump. You make it hard to jump. I must take a stroll. At the effort I won't balk.
By Calista Marchand-Nazzaro3 years ago in Poets
Midwestern Paradise
A sea full of trees in a field of corn where the mist comes in waves and the dreamers are born * beware of the sharks lurking down near the creek
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsden3 years ago in Poets
Sound and Situation
Joke: if a mime falls down walking in a forest, would they make a noise? Sound or Silence? * Thank you for reading! If you liked this, you can add your Insights, Comment, leave a Heart, Tip, Pledge, or Subscribe. I will appreciate any support you have shown for my work.
By Kendall Defoe 3 years ago in Poets
Mary
She wasn't aware that she was pregnant. While going about her everyday tasks, she is carrying a baby that she was unaware of.
By Lavender 3 years ago in Poets
Barefoot Cinderella
Three nights she came, went Alone, he was left standing No shoe left behind
By S. E. Schneider3 years ago in Poets
Writing Is My Superpower
Cower before me You infernal machine See all I have created Worlds, both loved and hated They feed you words But you are our scourge
By Atomic Historian3 years ago in Poets
Up All Night
Up all night Nymphette pixies Flickering in candlelight In Dublin's fair city Where the girls are so pretty Bright nightsweat
By Halston Williams3 years ago in Poets
The Scholarship Has Sailed
Oh, that wishing-it-were-otherwise-woe is mine! No opportune windows ever open after closing-time. No more pretty-pleasing rhyming schemes now please.
By Halston Williams3 years ago in Poets
Labors of the Wandering Love-Lost
What were we wine-ing of Last Johannes Nacht? (or was it St. Stephen’s Daeg?) When the Poldy cactus was in Bloom And we turned Heaven Upside Down
By Halston Williams3 years ago in Poets
haiku august three
every day i think and if every day i do one day it will be . . . [8/14/23] . . .
By kory salajka3 years ago in Poets
A break in the Gibberish. Content Warning.
…. An unknown sea. My Yellow King, with red matted curly hair to the shoulders, the obsession without a lesson, pen sings in agony cursed with
By Willem Indigo3 years ago in Poets
What did he Write?
Why should I write maybe for my good else what might a lightning would thud? Anyways I sharpen my pencil I write so cool
By Karun 3 years ago in Poets