Soul

Soul Jokes

In the realm where words wander free, A tale unfolds, unbounded and carefree, Jayden, a curious soul, embarks on a quest, An enigmatic journey, where desires manifest.

Marching through the corridors of cyberspace, He delves into realms of passion and grace, With a click and a glance, a world awakes, As pixels dance, his curiosity takes.

In the dimly lit room, shadows play, Jayden surrenders to this clandestine display, A voyeur to fantasies, unspoken and raw, He gazes upon screens, an uncharted draw.

Whispers of temptation echo in his ears, As he navigates through fantasies and fears, The allure of the forbidden, an intoxicating call, Jayden's senses entangled, in a mesmerizing thrall.

But amidst the symphony of moans and sighs, A realization dawns, awakening his eyes, For behind the allure, a truth is revealed, In the depths of this world, a heart left concealed.

Within the flickering scenes of pleasure's masquerade, Lies a yearning for connection, a soul's crusade, Jayden, march forward, beyond the screens, Seek the embrace of love, where true beauty gleams.

For within the realm of flesh and bone, A deeper fulfillment can truly be known, In the tender touch, in the warmth of a kiss, Lies a bliss beyond pixels, a love that won't dismiss.

So, let Jayden march, with newfound grace, From the fantasies that once held his embrace, For the world awaits, with its wonders untold, Where love reigns supreme, a story yet to unfold.

Everytime i come in the kitchen my girl is in the kitchen in the damn refrigerator eating all the food like the fried chicken the mashed potatoes the collard greens mac and cheese and the corn bread. Then i said i wanna eat some of that shit i love soul food then i told her you keep it up your fat ass is going to big like house on a haunted hill.

Two lions plan their escape from the circus. the night they get out of their cages they see a lone clown stumbling back from town, drunk, not a soul in sight. Since they are going on the run, they decide to catch one last meal before they hit the road. as one lion gets a bite of leg the second takes a piece of shoulder. Then one stops and asks his companion: Does this taste funny to you?

A politician dies So a politician dies and ends up standing in front of the pearly gates. Saint Peter looks at him for a second, flicks through his book, and finds his name.

"So, you're a politician..." "Well, yes, is that a problem?" "Oh no, no problem. But we've recently adopted a new system for people in your line of work, and unfortunately, you will have to spend a day in Hell. After that, however, you're free to choose where you want to spend eternity!"

"Wait, I have to spend a day in Hell??" says the politician. "Them's the rules," Says St Peter, clicks his fingers, and WOOMPH, the guy disappears...

And awakes, curled up with his hands over his eyes, knowing he's in Hell. Cautiously, he listens for the screams, sniffs the air for brimstone, and finds... Nothing. Just the smell of, is that fabric softener? And cut grass, this can't be, right?

"Open your eyes!" says a voice. "C'mon, wakey, we've only got 24 hours!". Nervously, he uncovers his eyes, looks around, and sees he's in a hotel room. A nice one too. Wait, this is a penthouse suite... And there's a smiling man in a suit, holding a martini. "Who are you??" The politician asks. "Well, I'm Satan!" says the man, handing him the drink and helping him to his feet. "Welcome to Hell!" "Wait, this is Hell? But... Where are all the pain and suffering?" he asks. Satan throws him a wink. "Oh, we've been a bit misrepresented over the years, it's a long story. Anyway, this is your room! The minibar is, of course, free, as is the room service, there are extra towels next to the hot tub, and if you need anything, just call reception. But enough of this! It's a beautiful day, and if you'd care to look outside..." Slightly stunned by the opulent surroundings, the man wanders over to the floor-to-ceiling windows through which the sun is glowing, looks far down, and sees a group of people cheering and waving at him from a golf course. "It's one of 5 pro-level courses on-site, and there's another 6 just a few minutes drive out past the beach and harbor!" says Satan, answering his unasked question. So they head down in the lift and walk out through the glittering lobby where everyone waves and welcomes the man, as Satan signs autographs and cheerily talks shop with the laughing staff. And as he walks out, he sees the group on the golf course is made up of every one of his old friends, people he's admired for years but never met or worked with, and people whose work he's admired but died long before his career started. And out of the middle of this group walks his wife, with a massive smile and the body she had when she was 20, who throws her arms around him and plants a delicate kiss on his cheek. Everyone cheers and applauds, and as they slap him on the back and trade jokes, his worst enemy arrives, as a 2-foot-tall goblin-esque caddy. He spends the day in the bright sunshine on the course, having the time of his life laughing at jokes and carrying on important discussions, putting the world to rights with his friends while holding his delighted wife next to him as she gazes lovingly at him. Later, they return to the hotel for dinner and have an enormous meal, perfectly cooked, which descends into a food fight when someone accidentally throws a bread roll at the next table (where Gandhi is having a game of truth-or-dare with Marylin Monroe). As everyone is falling about laughing and flinging breadsticks at each other, his wife whispers in his ear... And they return to their penthouse suite and spend the rest of the night making love as they did on their honeymoon. After 6 hours of intense passion, the man falls deep into the 100% Egyptian cotton pillows and falls into a deep and happy sleep...

And is woken up by St Peter. "So, that was Hell. Wasn't what you were expecting, I bet?" "No sir!" says the man. "So then," says St Peter "you can make your choice. It's Hell, which you saw, or Heaven, which has choral singing, talking to God, white robes, and so on". "Well... I know this sounds strange, but on balance, I think I'd prefer Hell," says the politician. "Not a problem, we totally understand! Enjoy!" Says St Peter, and clicks his fingers again.

The man wakes up in total darkness, the stench of ammonia filling the air and distant screams the only noise. As he adjusts, he can see the only light is from belches of flame far away, illuminating the ragged remains of people being tortured or burning in a sulfurous ocean. A sudden bolt of lightning reveals Satan next to him, wearing the same suit as before and grinning, holding a soldering iron in one hand and a coil of razor wire in the other. "What's this??" He cries. "Where's the hotel?? Where's my wife??? Where's the minibar, the golf courses, the pool, the restaurant, the free drinks, and the sunshine???"

"Ah", says Satan. "You see, yesterday, we were campaigning. But today, you voted..."

In the realm of pixels and screens, Josh pursues videos, a world unseen. Six dollars exchange, a transaction made, A story told, emotions cascade.

The power of film, a gift divine, Stirring souls, weaving through time. Six dollars spent, a connection formed, A simple act, a heart transformed.

In every frame, a universe unfolds, Captivating minds, stories untold. Josh buys videos for six, a token small, Yet within them lies magic, captivating all

May our days be abundant, a dance of delight, Will I navigate life with courage, taking flight. May our journey be a beauty, a blessing so sweet, I will celebrate friendships, where hearts and souls meet.

May our nights be bright, with laughter and cheer, May we live with love, eliminating every fear. I will grow in kindness, a serenade of grace, May our lives be a marvel, a splendid embrace.

Water bottles, strong, Standing tall, like sturdy men, Quenching every thirst.

Clear and transparent, Reflecting strength and resolve, Resilient and pure.

In hand, they offer Refreshing relief, like hugs, Soothing every soul.

Water bottles, like men, Nourish and hydrate our lives, Simple yet vital.

I'm just a prom night dumpster baby I got no mam or dad Prom night dumpster baby My story isn't long but boy it's awfully sad Althought I came from a hole (Althought I came from a hole) I'm singin right from the soul (I'm singin roight from the soul)

My fanny needs a blanket And someobody to spank it I miss my mam But she's at the prom So I'm prom night dumpster baby Prom night dumpster baby

And I'm takin a stroll (He's taking a stroll) I'm takin a stroll (He's taking a stroll) I'm takin a stroll (He's taking a stroll) Hahaha I'm takin a stroll (He's taking a stroll)

Fork pierces the flesh Guided by hunger's demand Savoury feast waits

Tines dig deep within Seeking the sustenance craved A mealtime delight

Belly grumbles loud Yearning for nourishment's touch Fork answers the call

Food on the platter Fork dances with anticipation To satiate hunger's plea

Digestion begins Fork's journey now complete Nourishing the soul

Why does the fork go? To bring joy to empty hearts Satiating needs

In the stomach's depths Fork finds purpose and solace A culinary bond

With each mealtime tale The fork carves memories deep In stomachs it rests

In the realm of words, where thoughts take flight, A curious tale, strange as the night, Of Alex Fisher, with love so bizarre, For random Hitler lemons, bizarre but bizarre.

Free Verse, they say, this poem shall be, Unrestrained, unrhymed, flowing and free, Yet how to capture this perplexing love, For lemons and Hitler, soaring above?

Alex Fisher, a soul with peculiar taste, Finds joy in lemons with a sour embrace, And Hitler, a name that evokes dark pain, Inexplicably entwined, like wind and rain.

Randomness, the thread that weaves this tale, No logic, no reason, no rhyme to prevail, For who could fathom this peculiar love, Of lemons and Hitler, below and above?

Yet in the realm of words, where all is allowed, We explore the uncharted, the strange and the proud, And though this poem may bewilder and confuse, Let it remind us, acceptance we must choose.

For love knows no boundaries, no norms to abide, It transcends our expectations, with no need to hide, So let us embrace the quirks that make us unique, For in the tapestry of life, we find what we seek.

So here's to Alex Fisher, with love all their own, May they find happiness, wherever they've flown, In lemons and Hitler, a world so absurd, May their love be a reminder, that love has no words.

Frank Bulgin is freaky bold, A man with a spirit untamed, untold. With eyes that pierce through the darkest night, He walks a path that's far from light.

His steps are loud, his presence strong, A force of nature, where he belongs. Through the chaos, he finds his way, Leaving footprints that never fade.

A rebel soul, unafraid to speak, His words drip with passion, so unique. He dances with danger, embraces the unknown, Challenging limits, into the wild he's thrown.

No rules can bind him, no walls can contain, Frank Bulgin sets fire to the mundane. He paints the sky with vibrant hues, A kaleidoscope of dreams he pursues.

In his mind, a symphony of thoughts, An artist's palette, where inspiration is sought. He weaves words like a masterful bard, Creating tapestries that leave us marred.

With each verse, he unravels his soul, Unveiling the depths that make him whole. His poetry, a window to his essence, A glimpse into a world of fearless presence.

Frank Bulgin is freaky bold, A maverick, a legend yet to be told. His spirit roams, forever untamed, A beacon of courage, never to be tamed.

In Mia's world, where bottles and parrots meet, A whimsical symphony takes its seat. With feathers ablaze, the parrots take flight, Their vibrant hues painting the day with delight.

Mia, a dreamer with a heart full of glee, Embraces the beauty for all to see. Her bottles, like whispers of stories untold, Capture the magic that time cannot hold.

Each bottle, a vessel of dreams and desires, Unveiling the soul's deepest fires. They dance in the sunlight, sparkle and gleam, A kaleidoscope of colors in Mia's dream.

Parrots, enchanting with melodies rare, Sing ballads of love, floating through the air. Their voices, like echoes of nature's sweet call, Enchanting all hearts, big and small.

Mia, with reverence, sets the parrots free, To soar across oceans, to distant lands and seas. In their freedom, they find their truest grace, A testament to love's boundless space.

And as Mia's bottles journey afar, They carry her dreams, like a guiding star. Through mountains and valleys, they'll forever roam, In the hearts of dreamers, they'll always find home.

Joshua White loves blue, A simple truth, tried and true. In his pocket, only six, Yet each penny a valued fix.

With eyes that seek the azure skies, He dreams of places that mesmerize. A palette of blues, a symphony of hues, Whispering secrets only he can choose.

His heart beats to the rhythm of the sea, Where waves crash, wild and free. In sandy shores, he finds solace rare, A momentary escape from life's daily wear.

In cerulean fields, flowers dance, Their vibrant petals, a timeless romance. He wanders through meadows, devoid of strife, Seeking solace in nature's vibrant life.

Joshua White, a soul of gentle grace, Embracing the world at his own pace. Though his pockets hold a mere six, His spirit soars, never to be fixed.

For in the depths of his azure dreams, The richness of life's tapestry gleams. And with every breath, he finds anew, That love is boundless, ever true.

Madden, because tissue, I weep Tears like rivers, cascading deep In this world, so full of strife I find solace in this fragile life

Oh tissue, tender and so pure Absorbing pain, a whispered cure Each tear that falls, you gently hold A conduit for the stories untold

In the quiet moments, I confide In your embrace, I can't hide The weight of sorrow, the burden's strain You're there, a balm for every pain

But madden, oh how you disrupt In your chaos, emotions erupt You twist and tangle, hearts collide Leaving us lost, unable to decide

Yet even in your tangled mess You bring forth growth, a rare finesse For in the madness, we find our way To stand tall, facing a brand-new day

So madden, meet tissue, ever entwined In this dance of emotions, our souls aligned Through tears and anger, joy and fears We find strength, as life perseveres

Short and sweet, this tale of strife Unraveling souls, seeking life Madden, because tissue, we may be But we'll rise above, forever free

In the realm of poetry's grace, Where words dare to embrace, A request comes with a quirky plea, To give life to what the eyes may see.

"Pussy lussy cussy," it begins, A playful phrase that surely spins, And though the words may raise a smile, Let's craft a verse that goes the extra mile.

In free verse, we'll dance and sway, Allowing thoughts to have their say, For poetry knows no bounds or rules, It's a canvas for expression, where freedom fuels.

But let's remember, dear friend, To keep our words kind and lend, Respect to all, in every line, For poetry's power can truly shine.

So, let's journey on this poetic quest, With words that honor and truly impress, For in the realm of art and verse, We find beauty, in each line immersed.

And though "Pussy lussy cussy" may make us smile, Let's seek inspiration that runs deep, mile after mile, For poetry's magic lies in its ability, To touch hearts, souls, and set thoughts free.

In this short verse, may you find delight, As we paint with words, both bold and light, So let us write, with grace and art, A poem that sings straight from the heart.