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Kassan Jahmal Jun 29
How do you make the weather jump,
you add a little spring.
If a tree wanted to fight with me, I really wish it wood.
But I should leave, I'm barking up the wrong tree.

I broke up with the sea.
Nowadays she's acting so salty.
I accidentally cut into a volcanoes speech.
I said, "I'm sorry for interrupting",
which he in turn started erupting.

How to cheer up the sun?
I used one of my brightest ideas.
All I said was, "you look under the weather. Hope your sky clears".

All these puns must be of nature,
because they came in so naturally.
Norman Crane Apr 29
The British anthropologist enjoyed rare tribesmen.
But after seeing his article published in the prestigious Journal of Anthropological Research,
he kept the poor man on the coals a little longer,
thinking, "Well done, old chap."
Norman Crane Sep 2020
See simmering vats
of shoulders, elbows and knees,
A banner reads:
"Welcome to the joint stock company!"
A mule may melt your heart,
but the cartel will dissolve your family.
If I paint a picture worth
a thousand
words

Would you endorse it
and never force
upon it
As if..
You opened up a dirtyy
faucet
With a set of
Forceps?

Well.. go ahead
Make your choice

But of coarse

I know you stingy types
will be like..

Maybe it would be worth a
Fortune
But only and if it were made of
Porcelain?

But nevertheless I must confess
I'm on another
Poor man's sketch

My stimulation
Perplexed
Feeling bored I guess
Yaaawn..

So what's next?

And would you
Pleease!?

Give me  the skinny
On the Anorexic*

Cause..
I've never been flexed on

( With all due respect )

By an unseen
Underdog

Man..
I am the Underdog!!

You naysayers
Place your bets!

And yes yes y'all
I have no regrets

But it still succks

Because I'm always
thinking about
How I'm so fortunate to make
this
And place this as..
Another Safe man's bet

While still professing
It's a Hard knock life

But still debating..
How am I supposed to rep?

Well..
Maybe I'll Rule
By cutting the lines to the ties
that bind

Yeah..
I think I'll cut the lines and
climb real High
Yeah, I think I'll do it all by design

Maybe grow real swift
Like cultivating
Twisted Vines?

And maybe then it would be..
So much easier and so Wise
for me to jump up and Kiss the Sky

Like I'm jumping over hurdles
while still running on track

Yet it still feels like
I'm running in circles
But never going off track

Unless..
I loose Traction?

Or if or less..

The whole world jumps ship
like a makeshift  Faction
That never closed the Rift

In all the sails that hung

While leaving me stranded like
The mention of my next pun
Stunned from the feelings
of being numb

And from there on..

Onward on one word token
Softspoken
With all of my gripes

So now I'm like..

Now how am I supposed
to Drift
here or there or anywhere
If I've never been
Drugged?

Yo..
Recognize the Pun?
All time Undisputed Underdog
The Anorexic= Starving Artist*
Jana Pelzom May 2020
There it stood,
To ruin the mood;
All bright and red,
The Russian roulette.
The gunshot had rang,
Then a head started to hang;
The Lady had left;
Death not there to jest,
In this wilting hour.
There chilled to the bone,
The bullet lodged alone;
Jack froze what was left of the breath.
There left the only life,
The gun in its warmth,
But maybe not for I hear a cry
And someone nearby
Has seen what night could not hide.
Felt first hand what was noir;
It was chance played;
Not with Luck at hand,
But Death as the croupier.
Noir leave it to Chance ©️ 2020 Jana Pelzom
Jelena Apr 2020
There is no line so no punchline
And no punishment for the punny puns
Since they are no punks
They are not puny, right
There are other that is punier puns
Was bored and I love puns
Liz Rossi Mar 2020
You wanted a love story, sweetheart—
    well, I’m an unwritten tragedy;
  hand me a skull and I’ll monologue
while Rome burns.
      We’re two acts in and falling fast,
         we’re half a city down and soon
            there’ll be nothing but ashes.

          You wanted a love song, baby—
        I’ll sing to you in a minor key,
harmonies in the rain under neon stars,
            screaming in tune with flowers in your lungs
      and blood in your hair
and city lights and city lights and
                                               city lights.

You wanted a love letter, honey—
“Dear Heartbreak,
   I’ve got purple bruises on my chest
     where my prose hits me. I’ve got
       a mess of clichés and a dark and stormy night
         and a pinch of melodrama,
           no talent but I’m trying, honest.
             I don’t suppose you could maybe
              unravel me a little?
               Cut me open like a knife through butter?
                Maybe then I’ll bleed words;
                 maybe then the poems will spill out of me,
                  entrails unravelling.”

You wanted a love poem, darling—
                meet me in your aspect and your eyes
               at ten o’clock tonight. Rome’s burning, baby,
              and all our lions are loose. No time for
    sonnets; we’ll climb the Colosseum with
    our flowers and our songs and
                             we’ll deny the gaudiness
                                                     of the day.

You wanted love, sweetheart—
I’ll give you everything I am:
           a burnt-out city,
           a soliloquy in G minor.
               I’ll play til my fingers bleed,
                     sing til my voice gives out and
                                                             ­            maybe—
maybe
it’ll do.
byron’s “she walks in beauty“ is the one i’m wittering on about in the fourth stanza.
Prister Sep 2019
Singing
Is
Not
Good
At
Prior risk
Of
Running away from puns the size of
Elephants.
U SEA what i did there?
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