So, I'm the Eighth Wonder of the World. It's flattering and very, very funny.
quote by Eva Longoria
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Adria, Adria, Adria Why Are You So Funny?
adria moya, hmm you do not like your name to be written in the poem
the problem with me is that
i am hardheaded and i am the kind of boy who does what mother
does not like me to do
i am naughty and so here i am
in all my mischief
adria, adria, why are you so funny? adria, adria, why are you so funny? adria, adria, why are you so funny? adria, adria, why are you so funny? adria, adria, why are you so funny? adria, adria, why are you so funny? adria, adria, why are you so funny? adria, adria, why are you so funny? adria, adria, why are you so funny? adria, adria, why are you so funny? adria, adria, why are you so funny? adria, adria, why are you so funny? adria, adria, why are you so funny? adria, adria, why are you so funny? adria, adria, why are you so funny? adria, adria, why are you so funny? adria, adria, why are you so funny? adria, adria, why are you so funny? adria, adria, why are you so funny? adria, adria, why are you so funny? adria, adria, why are you so funny? adria, adria, why are you so funny? adria, adria, why are you so funny? adria, adria, why are you so funny? adria, adria, why are you so funny? adria, adria, why are you so funny? adria, adria, why are you so funny? adria, adria, why are you so funny? adria, adria, why are you so funny? adria, adria, why are you so funny? adria, adria, why are you so funny? adria, adria, why are you so funny?
hahahaha hahahaha hahahaha hahahaha hahahaha hahahaha hahahaha ha
do you see the train of hahahaha
come let us ride on it and forget the sad things of our lives
i will make another one the train of
tralalatralalatralalatralalatralalatralal atralalatralalatralalatralalatralalatralalatralal atralalatralalatralala
it is the train of dance and laughter
come, come, come,
let us be there, what is the use of being what they want you to be?
the place is here and it must be a place of fun and laughter
and something so divine later.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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It's Not Funny!
IT'S NOT FUNNY!
Times are changing and the world is flaming,
from disappointment, it's so sad that we can't even see it.
Blinded by the outsiders that bring fear to us, but it
Is we that fear us. It's not funny when you have to sit back and
destroy yourself just to fit into this typical place.
It's not funny when you sit back and let people judge you because
you're not what they expect you to be.
It's not funny when teachers with the same skin as you
break you down like you're a piece of trash that can be thrown away.
It's not funny when we fight our own because we don't rep something that means nothing.
It's not funny when we're facing a war at home that
Has No Point!
It's not funny when you can't tell the difference from what yes
and no feels like.
It's not funny when you look in the mirror and don't notice you.
It's not funny when you don't break the stereotype that marks where your future goes.
It's not funny when you can't be yourself with another race of friends.
It's not funny when the word N***er can't be said by a race that has been driven through hell, but is okay for the next person.
It's not funny that hip- hop is just about sex and not the struggle that is in our neighborhoods.
It's not funny when your community is plagued by death, drugs, and lies.
It's not funny when people fall into the gap that has been left as a trap.
It's not funny when we thrive for money, cars, and clothes.
It's not funny when success isn't success anymore.
It's not funny when we live to die and die to live.
It's not funny when we deal our own cards and then it's not what it's cracked up to be.
It's not funny when females settle for less.
It's not funny when females settle for a job as a video vixen or an exotic dancer.
It's not funny when guys settle for a future at the morgue.
It's not funny when Hollywood is set as paradise and anywhere else is imitation.
It's not funny when you have a future of guns, gangs, and death.
It's not funny when we plan our own funeral.
It's not funny when we change our hair, breast, teeth, butts, and clothes just because it looks better.
It's not funny when we don't look to God anymore for answers.
It's not funny when the world isn't a world anymore it's just a mark of death.
It's just not funny!
(inspiration for this poem is the death of Derrion Albert and all those lost in a battle they weren't meant to fight wrong plagues this earth and we have to realize how to live free and not in fear.)
poem by Erika Peace
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Funny How Love Is
Funny how love is everywhere just look and see
Funny how love is anywhere you're bound to be
Funny how love is every song in every key
Funny how love is coming home in time for tea
Funny funny funny oh
Funny how love is the end of the lies
When the truth begins tomorrow comes
Tomorrow brings tomorrow brings love
In the shape of things
That's what love is that's what love is
Funny how love can break your heart so suddenly
Funny how love came tumbling down with Adam and Eve
Funny how love is running wild feeling free
Funny how love is coming home in time for tea
Funny funny funny oh
From the earth below to the heavens above
That's how far and funny is love
At any time anywhere
If you gotta make love do it everywhere
That's what love is that's what love is
Funny how love is everywhere just look and see
Funny how love is anywhere you're bound to be
Funny how love is every song in every key
Funny how love is when you gotta hurry
Because you're late for tea
Funny funny funny oh
Tommorrow comes tomorrow brings
Tomorrow brings love in the shape of things
At any time anywhere
If you gotta make love do it everywhere
That's what love is that's what love is
song performed by Queen from Queen II
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Funny Thing
A funny thing to do
Is everyone like you
'Cause people seldom change
They all just stay the same
A funny htin to say
Suppose you're just that way
Although you're sure you're sure
There really is no cure
A funny kind of way
A funny kind of day
You're funny all the time
Do you want a piece of mine
Cause I've seen it all before
When you're closing all the doors
It's not funny anymore
A funny thing to do
Because the sky was blue
You ran away for good
Cause no one understood
The funny things you said
Because the sky was red
A funny kind of way
A funny kind of day
You're funny all the time
Do you want a piece of mine
Cause I've seen it all before
When you're closing all the doors
It's not funny anymore
A funny kind of way
A funny kind of day
You're funny all the time
Do you want a piece of mine
Cause I've seen it all before
When you're closing all the doors
It's not funny anymore
A funny thing to do
Is everyone like you
Cause people seldom change
They all just stay the same
song performed by Travis from Good Feeling
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Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau, Saviour of Society
Epigraph
Υδραν φονεύσας, μυρίων τ᾽ ἄλλων πόνων
διῆλθον ἀγέλας . . .
τὸ λοίσθιον δὲ τόνδ᾽ ἔτλην τάλας πόνον,
. . . δῶμα θριγκῶσαι κακοῖς.
I slew the Hydra, and from labour pass'd
To labour — tribes of labours! Till, at last,
Attempting one more labour, in a trice,
Alack, with ills I crowned the edifice.
You have seen better days, dear? So have I —
And worse too, for they brought no such bud-mouth
As yours to lisp "You wish you knew me!" Well,
Wise men, 't is said, have sometimes wished the same,
And wished and had their trouble for their pains.
Suppose my Œdipus should lurk at last
Under a pork-pie hat and crinoline,
And, latish, pounce on Sphynx in Leicester Square?
Or likelier, what if Sphynx in wise old age,
Grown sick of snapping foolish people's heads,
And jealous for her riddle's proper rede, —
Jealous that the good trick which served the turn
Have justice rendered it, nor class one day
With friend Home's stilts and tongs and medium-ware,—
What if the once redoubted Sphynx, I say,
(Because night draws on, and the sands increase,
And desert-whispers grow a prophecy)
Tell all to Corinth of her own accord.
Bright Corinth, not dull Thebes, for Lais' sake,
Who finds me hardly grey, and likes my nose,
And thinks a man of sixty at the prime?
Good! It shall be! Revealment of myself!
But listen, for we must co-operate;
I don't drink tea: permit me the cigar!
First, how to make the matter plain, of course —
What was the law by which I lived. Let 's see:
Ay, we must take one instant of my life
Spent sitting by your side in this neat room:
Watch well the way I use it, and don't laugh!
Here's paper on the table, pen and ink:
Give me the soiled bit — not the pretty rose!
See! having sat an hour, I'm rested now,
Therefore want work: and spy no better work
For eye and hand and mind that guides them both,
During this instant, than to draw my pen
From blot One — thus — up, up to blot Two — thus —
Which I at last reach, thus, and here's my line
Five inches long and tolerably straight:
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning (1871)
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XI. Guido
You are the Cardinal Acciaiuoli, and you,
Abate Panciatichi—two good Tuscan names:
Acciaiuoli—ah, your ancestor it was
Built the huge battlemented convent-block
Over the little forky flashing Greve
That takes the quick turn at the foot o' the hill
Just as one first sees Florence: oh those days!
'T is Ema, though, the other rivulet,
The one-arched brown brick bridge yawns over,—yes,
Gallop and go five minutes, and you gain
The Roman Gate from where the Ema's bridged:
Kingfishers fly there: how I see the bend
O'erturreted by Certosa which he built,
That Senescal (we styled him) of your House!
I do adjure you, help me, Sirs! My blood
Comes from as far a source: ought it to end
This way, by leakage through their scaffold-planks
Into Rome's sink where her red refuse runs?
Sirs, I beseech you by blood-sympathy,
If there be any vile experiment
In the air,—if this your visit simply prove,
When all's done, just a well-intentioned trick,
That tries for truth truer than truth itself,
By startling up a man, ere break of day,
To tell him he must die at sunset,—pshaw!
That man's a Franceschini; feel his pulse,
Laugh at your folly, and let's all go sleep!
You have my last word,—innocent am I
As Innocent my Pope and murderer,
Innocent as a babe, as Mary's own,
As Mary's self,—I said, say and repeat,—
And why, then, should I die twelve hours hence? I—
Whom, not twelve hours ago, the gaoler bade
Turn to my straw-truss, settle and sleep sound
That I might wake the sooner, promptlier pay
His due of meat-and-drink-indulgence, cross
His palm with fee of the good-hand, beside,
As gallants use who go at large again!
For why? All honest Rome approved my part;
Whoever owned wife, sister, daughter,—nay,
Mistress,—had any shadow of any right
That looks like right, and, all the more resolved,
Held it with tooth and nail,—these manly men
Approved! I being for Rome, Rome was for me.
Then, there's the point reserved, the subterfuge
My lawyers held by, kept for last resource,
Firm should all else,—the impossible fancy!—fail,
And sneaking burgess-spirit win the day.
The knaves! One plea at least would hold,—they laughed,—
One grappling-iron scratch the bottom-rock
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Flattering
Flattering, train, rain, fling, ring, gin, in, fear, gear, fire, tear, era, near;
But corrupt to the African syndrome!
So, watch your steps before you fall very deep into the hole!
And like the flattering divinations in the land of your sweet muse.
Flattering, eating, tale, gel, fate, rag, age, grain, gain, fine, fin, feat, neat;
And like the struggles of the African child!
But, when will our leaders do the right thing?
Flattering, later, flatter, raw, flat, grit, get, gate, at, an, if, felt, fit, air, war!
With the very act of your muse in the land of trouble;
But corrupt to the African syndrome!
So, try to be yourself to do the right things always.
Flattering, fat, tea, eat, ate, rat, art, tar, rate, late, ant, latter, alter, are, ear;
Honesty is the key of life so, let us live by it!
For, the struggles of the African child do have many meanings as seen around;
But, the flattering words from our leaders are not helping matters.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Funnny? .. Not So Much
it's funny how hello
is always accompanied by good bye
it's funny how good memories
can start to make you cry
it's funny how forever
never seems to last
it's funny how much you'd lose
if you forgot about your past
it's funny how good friends
can just leave you when your down
it's funny how when you need someone
they're nowhere to be found
it's funny how people change
to make themselfs seem better
it's funny how many lies
are packed into one love letter
it's funny how people can forgive
but they can never really forget
it's funny how one night
can be filled with so many regrets
it; s funny how ironic
lifes turns out to be
it's funny how none of these things
seem really funny to me
poem by Jessica Richards
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Funny You Should Say That
Lead vocal: the flying pickets
Well its funny you should say that
Its a most peculiar thing
Yes its funny you should say that
I was talking to a man
And I saw he wore a ring
Yes its funny you should say that
And I told him of a dream
Where I caught and ate a whale
Then I woke up feeling hungry, he said
Thats a curious tale
For a dream contains a wish
In this case a giant fish
As the pressure you were under
Might have woken you from slumber
To relieve the pangs of hunger
You just dreamed yourself a dish
Well its funny you should say that
Its a most peculiar thing
Yes its funny you should say that
For I also met a man
And he also wore a ring
Yes its funny you should say that
And I told him of a dream
Where the sun was at its height
But my toes were blocks of ice, he said
Let me get this right
You are tall and so your feet
Must protrude beyond the sheet
While you sleep theyre unprotected
And its just as I suspected
You were trying to dream some heat
But there are six white wolves
In the dead of the night
On the branch of a tree
And they have such big eyes
And theyre shining so bright
All the better to see
And they have such big ears
All the better to hear
And theyre listening to me
And they have such sharp teeth
All the better to eat
And theyre looking at me
Well its funny you should say that
Its a most peculiar thing
Yes its funny you should say that
I was speaking to a man
But I dont recall a ring
Yes its funny you should say that
[...] Read more
song performed by Alan Parsons Project
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Funny, But Not So Funny
Funny am I
How at this point of my life
That I'll ever see such as these
That people find it humorous
Of which I don't, at least, not as much
To live a life of folly.
Funny is it
How this world evolve with things
Looking real when everyone knows
That it isn't all there is to it
Wanting 'em with their life at stake
Wishing like nothing in carelessness.
Funny, but not so funny
For people could think as such
Like no one will know of it;
For people could do as such
Like there is no a payback for it;
Funny, but not so funny.
Funny, but not so funny
When such a time comes
As the world evolves
So is what have been sown
May not be at your lifetime
But to the lives of the generation to come.
Funny, but not so funny
When given a time to live
But only not many have the thought of it
Living a life just to get by
Is not what accounted for
But living under the will of God.
Funny, but not so funny... at least, not just yet.
poem by Mary Louise Mann Gabumpa
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Satan Absolved
(In the antechamber of Heaven. Satan walks alone. Angels in groups conversing.)
Satan. To--day is the Lord's ``day.'' Once more on His good pleasure
I, the Heresiarch, wait and pace these halls at leisure
Among the Orthodox, the unfallen Sons of God.
How sweet in truth Heaven is, its floors of sandal wood,
Its old--world furniture, its linen long in press,
Its incense, mummeries, flowers, its scent of holiness!
Each house has its own smell. The smell of Heaven to me
Intoxicates and haunts,--and hurts. Who would not be
God's liveried servant here, the slave of His behest,
Rather than reign outside? I like good things the best,
Fair things, things innocent; and gladly, if He willed,
Would enter His Saints' kingdom--even as a little child.
[Laughs. I have come to make my peace, to crave a full amaun,
Peace, pardon, reconcilement, truce to our daggers--drawn,
Which have so long distraught the fair wise Universe,
An end to my rebellion and the mortal curse
Of always evil--doing. He will mayhap agree
I was less wholly wrong about Humanity
The day I dared to warn His wisdom of that flaw.
It was at least the truth, the whole truth, I foresaw
When He must needs create that simian ``in His own
Image and likeness.'' Faugh! the unseemly carrion!
I claim a new revision and with proofs in hand,
No Job now in my path to foil me and withstand.
Oh, I will serve Him well!
[Certain Angels approach. But who are these that come
With their grieved faces pale and eyes of martyrdom?
Not our good Sons of God? They stop, gesticulate,
Argue apart, some weep,--weep, here within Heaven's gate!
Sob almost in God's sight! ay, real salt human tears,
Such as no Spirit wept these thrice three thousand years.
The last shed were my own, that night of reprobation
When I unsheathed my sword and headed the lost nation.
Since then not one of them has spoken above his breath
Or whispered in these courts one word of life or death
Displeasing to the Lord. No Seraph of them all,
Save I this day each year, has dared to cross Heaven's hall
And give voice to ill news, an unwelcome truth to Him.
Not Michael's self hath dared, prince of the Seraphim.
Yet all now wail aloud.--What ails ye, brethren? Speak!
Are ye too in rebellion? Angels. Satan, no. But weak
With our long earthly toil, the unthankful care of Man.
Satan. Ye have in truth good cause.
Angels. And we would know God's plan,
His true thought for the world, the wherefore and the why
Of His long patience mocked, His name in jeopardy.
[...] Read more
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Funny... But Not
it's funny how hello is always accompanied with goodbye
it's funny how good memories can start to make you cry
it's funny how forever never seems to last
it's funny how much you'd lose if you forgot about your past
it's funny how “friends” can just leave when you are down
it's funny how when you need someone they never are around
it's funny how people change and think they're so much better
it's funny how many lies are packed into one “love letter”
it's funny how one night can contain so much regret
it's funny how you can forgive but not forget
it's funny how ironic life turns out to be
but the funniest part of all, is none of thats funny to me
poem by Arianna Loshnowsky
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Its funny how
Its funny how hello is always accompanied with good-bye
Its funny how remembering good memories can make you cry
Its funny how forever never seems to really last
Its funny how much you'd lose if you forgot your past
Its funny how friends can just leave you when you're down
Its funny how when you need someone there never around
Its funny how people can change and think there so much betta
Its funny how many lies can be packed into one love letta
Its funny how people can forgive even tho they cant forget
Its funny how one night can catain of so much regret
Its funny how crazy and ironic life turns out to be
but the funniest part of all is that none of that seems funny to me
poem by Heather Noble
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Funny?
It's funny how hello is always accompanied with goodbye
It's funny how good memories can start to make you cry
It's funny how forever never seems to really last
It's funny how much you'd loose if you forgot about your past
It's funny how friends can just leave you when you're down
It's funny how when you need someone they're never around
It's funny how people can change and think they're so much better
It's funny how many lies can be packed in one ''love letter''
It's funny how people can forgive even though they can't forget
It's funny how one night can contain so much regret
It's funny how ironic life turns out to be,
But the funniest part,
Is that none of it is funny...
To me.
poem by Patrick 'the pyropoet' littrell
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Funny....But Not For Me! ! ! !
t's funny how hello is always accompanied with goodbye
it's funny how good memories can start to make you cry
it's funny how forever never seems to last
it's funny how much you'd lose if you forgot about your past
it's funny how “friends” can just leave when you are down
it's funny how when you need someone they never are around
it's funny how people change and think they're so much better
it's funny how many lies are packed into one “love letter”
it's funny how one word can contain so much regret
it's funny how you can forgive but not forget
it's funny how ironic life turns out to be
but the funniest part of all, is none of thats funny to me
poem by Gaurav Sharma
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Funny, But Then Not...
Its funny how hello is alway accompanied with goodbye,
Its funny how good memories can start to make you cry.
Its funny how forever never really seems to last,
Its funny how much you'd lose if you forgot about your past.
Its funny how 'friends' can just leave you when your down,
Its funny how when you need someone their never around.
Its funny how people change and think they're so much better,
Its funny how many lies can be packed into one 'love letter'.
Its funny how people forgive even though they cant forget,
Its funny how one night can contain so much regret.
Its funny how ironic life turns out to be,
But the funniest part of all...
Is that none of thats funny to me
poem by Daniela X. Daraz
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Isn't It Funny?
t's funny how hello is always accompanied with goodbye
It's funny how good memories can start to make you cry
It's funny how forever never seems to really last
It's funny how much you'd loose if you forgot about your past
It's funny how friends can just leave you when you're down
It's funny how when you need someone they're never around
It's funny how people can change and think they're so much better
It's funny how many lies can be packed in one ''love letter''
It's funny how people can forgive even though they can't forget
It's funny how one night can contain so much regret
It's funny how ironic life turns out to be,
But the funniest part,
Is that none of it is funny...
To me.
poem by Gina Durst
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It's Funny How
It's funny how hello is always accompanied with goodbye
It's funny how remembering good memories can make you cry
It's funny how forever never seems to really last
It's funny how much you'd lose if youforgot youre past
It's funny how friends can just leave when you're down
It's funny how when you need someone the're never around
It's funny how people can change and think the're so much better
It's funny how many lies can be packed into one love letter
It's funny how people can forgive even tho they cant forget
It's funny how one night can catain of so much regret
It's funny how crazy and ironic life turns out to be but the funniest part of all is that non of that seeems funny to me.
I got this poem from a friend i dont know who writ it or where it came from.
poem by Amelia Gardiner
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My Daddy's So Funny
My daddy’s so funny; always making me laugh
But, he’s the best daddy anybody could have
Every time he comes around he has something funny to say
On days when I feel down daddy can always makes my day
My daddy’s so funny even when he’s not trying to be
He has a way with words and gestures that always tickles me
He makes funny expressions, and he’s so witty too
He’s so funny he’ll make you forget you were feeling blue
My daddy’s so funny, but he is also sweet
He will do anything to help someone else; even get them off the street
You can find him givin’ change, or just standing up talkin’
To a person that most people would look at and just keep on walkin’
My daddy’s so funny, but he is such a good provider
He would do anything to take care of his family, even use the car like a taxi driver
I’ll never forget the time he got up at 5: 00 in the mornin’
He walked me all the way to my train stop, even though it was stormin’
My daddy’s so funny, but helped raise us girls so well
When my mama told us “no, ” we couldn’t run to him and tell
He taught us to be dainty and to act like ladies
He was always involved in our lives from the time that we were babies
My daddy’s so funny, but he takes good care of my mother
No matter how tough times would get, he always stood by her
He has been with her for more than 50 years
With her he has shared much marital bliss and many tears
My daddy’s so funny, but there is something you should know
He might laugh and joke a lot, but he takes life seriously though
His personality and the things he does are not for him to be seen
He just is who he is, and really loves people; from that we can all glean
My daddy’s so funny, when you ask him what he has to give
He’ll tell you in a minute, “I got mo’ cold cash than you got days to live! ”
My daddy is so funny, when I just think about him I laugh
I thank God for my daddy, one of the greatest gifts any girl could have.
poem by Deidre Blair
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Confessio Amantis. Prologus
Torpor, ebes sensus, scola parua labor minimusque
Causant quo minimus ipse minora canam:
Qua tamen Engisti lingua canit Insula Bruti
Anglica Carmente metra iuuante loquar.
Ossibus ergo carens que conterit ossa loquelis
Absit, et interpres stet procul oro malus.
Of hem that writen ous tofore
The bokes duelle, and we therfore
Ben tawht of that was write tho:
Forthi good is that we also
In oure tyme among ous hiere
Do wryte of newe som matiere,
Essampled of these olde wyse
So that it myhte in such a wyse,
Whan we ben dede and elleswhere,
Beleve to the worldes eere
In tyme comende after this.
Bot for men sein, and soth it is,
That who that al of wisdom writ
It dulleth ofte a mannes wit
To him that schal it aldai rede,
For thilke cause, if that ye rede,
I wolde go the middel weie
And wryte a bok betwen the tweie,
Somwhat of lust, somewhat of lore,
That of the lasse or of the more
Som man mai lyke of that I wryte:
And for that fewe men endite
In oure englissh, I thenke make
A bok for Engelondes sake,
The yer sextenthe of kyng Richard.
What schal befalle hierafterward
God wot, for now upon this tyde
Men se the world on every syde
In sondry wyse so diversed,
That it welnyh stant al reversed,
As forto speke of tyme ago.
The cause whi it changeth so
It needeth nought to specifie,
The thing so open is at ije
That every man it mai beholde:
And natheles be daies olde,
Whan that the bokes weren levere,
Wrytinge was beloved evere
Of hem that weren vertuous;
For hier in erthe amonges ous,
If noman write hou that it stode,
The pris of hem that weren goode
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poem by John Gower
Added by Poetry Lover
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