Today's poems [10.11.18]
Vote for the poem that you really like by checking a box next to it. Then press the VOTE button to submit your votes.
Also, links to poem categories and "Email Friend" will open in a new window, so as not to interrupt your poem reading.
There once was a writer named Twain
Who had a peculiar stain
Surrounding the head
Of his prick: it was red,
And was said to wash off in the rain.
There was a young fellow named Veach
Who fell fast asleep on the beach.
His dreams of nude women
Had his proud organ brimming
And squirting on all within reach.
The was a young man from Peru
Who lived on cunt scapings and poo
When he could find none of these
He lived on the cheese
that under his foreskin grew
From a niche in the crypt at Saint Giles
Came a sound which resounded for miles.
"My goodness gracious,"
Said Father Ignatius.
"I forgot that the Bishop has piles."
There's a man in the Bible portrayed
As one deeply engrossed in his trade.
He became quite elated
Over things he created,
Especially the women he made.
By voting you are helping select today's best poem. This helps us provide you with better quality humor in the future, as well as to select the best poems to send in our daily best humor mailing.
Today's JokesToday's StoriesToday's QuotesToday's Funny Pic
S M T W Th F St
1 2 3 4 5 6
7 8 9 10 11 12 13
14 15 16 17 18 19 20
21 22 23 24 25 26 27
28 29 30 31