Laughter Poetry

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Laughter Poetry

  • All those laughters
    Are not always real
    All those faces in a park,
    Wrinkled and weary,
    Laugh in a circle,
    Devoid of happiness,
    No sign of a crinkle,
    Eyes without light,
    Devoid of life.
    Their happy sadness echoes,
    On the streets, in apartements,
    The dismal vibes reach us
    Yet they emanate the fake sentiments.
    Stoop a little and evesdrop that circle,
    They deceive emotions, black and purple,
    All you hear is a shouting troop,
    We know the truth of a laughing group.

  • Man I got years of practice
    At making ‘em laugh at this
    And that shit
    Gas out my ass
    Shakespeare references
    Comic book characters
    Foreign accents
    Effeminate behavior
    Always a loving labor
    Smiles and chuckles
    To ease or eliminate
    The distance and uncertainty
    Between those I appreciate

  • They’re your friends.
    You tell them anything and everything,
    but it hurts when your misery,
    your mistakes,
    becomes the butt of the jokes.
    And when they turn to you
    you’ll be laughing
    they can see you laugh,
    but they can never see
    your stomach twisting
    or the bile
    rising in your throat.

  • I think she was laughing
    And rolling her ocean blue eyes
    And smiling
    Just to do it all over again
    And I think I stepped outside because I was scared
    But she just kept laughing
    And I couldn’t even contain myself
    Watching her be so energetic
    No one knew
    No one ever knew
    And I just wanted to know
    How can you be so sad and alone?

  • In laughter we stretch the mouth from ear to ear,
    or at least in that direction,
    we bare our teeth and in that way reveal
    long-past stages in evolution
    when laughter still was an expression of
    triumph over a slain neighbour.
    We expel our breath right up from the throat,
    according to need we gently vibrate our
    vocal chords, if necessary we also touch our foreheads
    or the back of our heads, or we rub our hands or slap
    our thighs, and in that way reveal long-past stages
    when victory also presupposed
    fleetness of foot.
    Generally speaking, we laugh when we feel like laughing.
    In special instances we laugh
    when we don’t feel like laughing at all,
    we laugh because laughter is prescribed or
    we laugh because it isn’t prescribed.
    And so, in effect, we laugh all the time, if only
    to conceal the fact that all the time someone
    is laughing at us.

  • I remember just a small boy
    I’d see on most days,
    Getting out of the car
    Id watch you walk away.
    My nephew had an obsession
    Oh man why high heels?
    I ask my little sister
    Hey now what’s the deal?
    She tells me that she hides them
    And puts them all away,
    She tries to do it sneaky
    Hoping maybe they’ll stay..
    It’s years now past
    We talk about today,
    He’d tell I love those shoes, Mom
    Because the noise they make…

  • Laughter is the best medicine
    No matter how much one thinks they are ready
    They are never prepared for a tragedy
    Unexpected twists and turns in life
    Feels like being stabbed with a knife
    Such stress struggle and agony
    Nothing can cure it, not even money
    But there is one remedy
    And that is comedy
    Laughter is the best medicine
    Even when tears roll down
    A joke will turn my frown upside down
    Laughter is such a wonderful feeling
    It helps in any time of healing
    Laughter is the best medicine
    Depression can take you to a dark place
    How you view yourself and others you face
    But humor can be as powerful
    It makes you look and feel beautiful
    Laughter is the best medicine

  • To laugh often and much
    to win the respect of intelligent people
    and the affection of children;
    to earn the appreciation of honest critics
    and endure the betrayal of false friends;
    to appreciate beauty;
    to find the best in others;
    to leave the world a bit better,
    whether by a healthy child,
    a garden patch
    or a redeemed social condition;
    to know even one life has breathed easier
    because you have lived.
    This is to have succeeded.

  • From over the wall I could hear the laughter of women
    in a foreign tongue, in the sun-rinsed air of the city.
    They sat (so I thought) perfumed in their hats and their silks,
    in chairs on the grass amid flowers glowing and swaying.
    One spoke and the others rang like bells, oh so witty,
    like bells till the sound filled up the garden and lifted
    like bubbles spilling over the bricks that enclosed them,
    their happiness holding them, even if just for the moment.
    Although I did not understand a word they were saying,
    their sound surrounded me, fell on my shoulders and hair,
    and burst on my cheeks like kisses, and continued to fall,
    holding me there where I stood on the sidewalk listening.
    As I could not move, I had to hear them grow silent,
    and adjust myself to the clouds and the cooling air.
    The mumble of thunder rumbled out of the wall
    and the smacking of drops as the rain fell everywhere.

  • Finally, I’m losing touch
    with my laughter.
    Often it is missing in the right places,
    or it explodes in the wrong ones,
    as if right and wrong were all the same thing,
    as if my laughter were not mine, but had a will of its own,
    roughly sketched in,
    not signifying happiness,
    just a part played by a clown in a silly play.
    Sometimes semi-laughter,
    or pseudo-laughter,
    or mad laughter
    contorts the intricate moulding
    that flakes from the face . . .
    Only the eyes laugh,
    Or the lips.
    The rest’s half-submerged in tranquil depths,
    glimmering like a rock
    that lifts up its face,
    shaped by millennia of pounding waves
    into a human semblance.