Verse Jokes

Three sons left home, went out into the world and each of them made a lot of money. During a reunion, they discussed the gifts they'd given to their elderly mum.

'I built a big house for our mum,' said the first.

'I sent her a Mercedes, with a chauffeur,' said the second.

And the third smiled and said, 'I think my gift was the best. You know how much mum enjoyed reading the Bible? And you know that her eyes aren't so good anymore? Well, I sent her a remarkable cockatoo that recites the entire Bible, both old and new testaments. It took a priest twelve years to teach him. That cockatoo is the only one in the world that can do it. All mum has to do is name the chapter and verse, and the cockatoo recites it.'

A few days later, mum sent out her thankyou letters. She wrote to the first son,

'The house you built is so enormous that I only live in one room. The trouble is, I have to clean the whole house.'

To the second son she said, 'I'm far too old to travel anymore. I stay at home most of the time, so I've hardly used the Mercedes. In any case, the driver is so rude.'

To the third son she wrote 'Dearest Freddie. You have the good sense to know what your mum likes. The chicken was delicious!'

Why did the rapper bring a parachute to the show?

Because he wanted to drop some FLY VERSES

In the realm of the mind, Where thoughts wander undefined, This sentence emerges, unconfined, A whimsical phrase, quite inclined.

It dances freely, unrestrained, No structure, no rules, it's unchained, A playful verse, with words unfeigned, The first to surface, unrestrained.

It holds no grandeur, nor deep insight, Just a simple thought, taking flight, A fleeting notion, shining bright, In the realm of words, it feels right.

This sentence, unburdened and free, Plays with language, wild and carefree, A tiny poem, as small as can be, Yet it speaks volumes, silently.

So let it wander, let it roam, Across the page, it finds a home, Unfettered by rhythm, it freely roams, This sentence, the first, stands alone.

Bible Verse of The Day-For you did not receive a spirit that makes you a slave again to fear, but you received the Spirit of sonship. And by him we cry, "Abba, Father." The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God's children. —Romans 8:15-16

Finish the lyrics in the comments-

iTs CoRn

Why did the rapper become a barber?

To TRIM his verses

So one time I was with my girlfriend crazy right but we were doing a tictok eye fallow challenge and she pulled up a pick of where Stacy for in to the spider verse and I look some were I shouldn’t and she smacked me and I changed to the rock and you know where she looked wtf right in the no no square and since she was a girl all I could do was sit back and watch

IF a person walks off a hundred foot cliff and half way down screams why did I do that. Then a second person walks off the same one hundred foot cliff and screams the same verse "why did I do that," then another person walks off the cliff and screams the same line" why did I do that" and the next person the same thing. What do you call that? (Stupid People)

In the realm of words, I shall embark, To craft a verse, both bold and stark, Thomas Bulgin, a name that ignites, A tale of length and moist delights.

Free from the chains of structured rhyme, I wander through this realm, sublime, Thomas Bulgin, a phrase so strange, Evoking thoughts that rearrange.

Long, it stretches, like a winding road, Leading us to depths, yet to be bestowed, In syllables, it dances and it plays, A journey we embark, in myriad ways.

Moist, a word that teems with life, A touch of nature, amidst the strife, It whispers of raindrops on tender leaves, Of dew-kissed petals and gentle heaves.

Thomas Bulgin, a phrase so surreal, Unleashing emotions, that time cannot seal, In this short verse, I strive to convey, A glimpse of what these words might say.

So let us ponder, the mystery untold, Of Thomas Bulgin, both long and bold, For in the realm of poetry's sweet embrace, Even the unusual finds its rightful place.

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.

we were versing year 8 at footy and they were mostly black so, I told a my white friend to WATCH OUT!!!

a pastor asked his child what his favourite bible verse was...he responded keep watch, because he wanted a watch

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 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.