- William Shakepeare

A very beadle to a humorous sigh.

- George Burns

"Happiness is having a large, loving, caring, close knit family... in another city."

- Bill Cosby

"Human beings are the only creatures on earth that allow children to come back home."

- Mary Karr

"I think a dysfunctional family is any family with more than one person in it."

- Jerry Seinfeld

"There's no way that moving in with your parents is a sign that you life is on track."

- Cary Grant

Insanity runs in my family. It practically gallops.

- Robert Frost

Time and Tide wait for no man, but time always stands still for a woman of thirty.

- Mark Twain

When I was younger, I could remember anything, whether it happened or not.

- Robert Frost

A diplomat is a man who always remembers a woman's birthday but never remembers her age.

- Francois De La Rochenoucauld

Old people are fond of giving good advice; it consoles them for no longer being capable of setting a bad example.

- Cora Harvey Armstrong

Inside every older person is a younger person - wondering what the hell happened

- Anonymous

Time may be a great healer, but it's a lousy beautician.

- Anonymous

You would know that it’s your 60th birthday when you get to date women half your age without breaking any laws.

- Sophie Tucker

From birth to age eighteen, a girl needs good parents. From eighteen to thirty-five, she needs good looks. From thirty-five to fifty-five, she needs a good personality. From fifty-five on, she needs good cash.

-

When I was a boy of fourteen, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around. But when I got to be twenty-one, I was astonished at how much he had learned in seven years.

- George W. Bush

In my sentences I go where no man has gone before...I am a boon to the English language.

- Emily Dickinson

I Came to buy a smile today But just a single smile The smallest one upon your face Will suit me just as well The one that no one else would miss It shone so very small I'm pleading at the "counter" - sir Could you afford to sell I've Diamonds -- on my fingers You know what Diamonds are? I've Rubies - live the Evening Blood And Topaz - like the star! 'Twould be "a Bargain" for a Jew! Say - may I have it - Sir?

- ELLIS PARKER BUTLER

Funny poem of the day: JABED MEEKER, HUMORIST Twain? Oh, yes, I’ve heard Mark Twain Heard him down to Pleasant Plain; Funny? Yes, I guess so. Folks Seemed to laugh loud at his jokes— Laughed to beat the band; but I Couldn’t rightly make out why. Guess his humor ain’t refined. Quite enough to suit my mind. Mark’s all right—right clever speaker— But he can’t touch Jabed Meeker; And one thing that makes it queer Is that Jabed lives right here. You ain’t met him? Son, you’ve missed The most funniest humorist I’ve met with in my born days— Funniest talker, anyways, When it comes to repartee— That’s the humor catches me! Like a specimen? Huh! Well, Take, for instance, his umbrell; Wouldn’t think, until he spoke, He could turn that to a joke; Mark Twain couldn’t, bet you that! That’s where Meeker beats Mark flat! Just imagine three or four Fellers in Jim Beemer’s store— ‘Long comes Meeker, and some feller Says, “See Meeker’s bum umbreller.” Quick as lightning Meeker ‘d yell: “Don’t you guy my bumberell! Where’s the feller dares to hoot At this sping-spang bumbershoot? Show me some one dares to call Bad names at my bumbersoll!” Right like that! Right off the reel! Say, you’d ought to heard us squeal! Then, before we’d got our breath, Meeker, solemn sad as death, Says: “Stand up there ‘gainst that wall, Para-bumber-shooter-soll!” Twain? All right! But just give me Some one slick at repartee!

- EMILY DICKINSON

Funny poem of the day: FUNNY, TO BE A CENTURY Funny, to be a Century, And see the People, going by, I, should die of the Oddity, But then, I'm not so staid, as He, He keeps His Secrets safely very, Were He to tell, extremely sorry, This Bashful Globe of Ours would be, So dainty of Publicity

- DONALD JUSTICE

THIS POEM This poem is not addressed to you. You may come into it briefly, but no one will find you here, no one. You will have changed before the poem will. Even while you sit there, unmovable, you have begun to vanish. And it does no matter. The poem will go on without you. It has the spurious glamor of certain voids. It is not sad, really, only empty. Once perhaps it was sad, no one knows why. It prefers to remember nothing. Nostalgias were peeled from it long ago. Your type of beauty has no place here. Night is the sky over this poem. It is too black for stars. And do not look for any illumination. You neither can nor should understand what it means. Listen, it comes with out guitar, neither in rags nor any purple fashion. And there is nothing in it to comfort you. Close your eyes, yawn. It will be over soon. you will forge the poem, but not before It has forgotten you. And it does not matter. It has been most beautiful in its erasures. O bleached mirrors! Oceans of the drowned! Nor is one silence equal to another. And it does not matter what you think. This poem is not addressed to you.

- PAM AYRES

GOODWILL TO MEN- GIVE US MONEY It was Christmas Eve on a Friday the shops was full of cheer, with tinsel in the windows, and presents twice as dear. a thousand Father Christmases, sat in their little huts, and folk was buying crackers and folk was buying nuts. All up and down the country, before the light was snuffed, turkeys they get murdered, and cockerels they got stuffed, Christmas cakes got marzipanned, and puddin's they got steamed mothers they got desperate and tired kiddies screamed. Hundredweight's of Christmas cards, went flying through the post, with first class postage stamps on those, you had to flatter most. within a million kitchens, mince pies was being made, on everyone's radio, "White Christmas", it was played. Out in the frozen countryside men crept round on their own, hacking off the holly, what other folks had grown, mistletoe on willow trees, was by a man wrenched clear, so he could kiss his neighbour's wife, he'd fancied all the year. And out upon the hillside, where the Christmas trees had stood, all was completely barren, but for little stumps of wood, the little trees that flourished all the year were there no more, but in a million houses, dropped their needles on the floor. And out of every cranny, cupboard, hiding place and nook, little bikes and kiddies' trikes, were secretively took, yards of wrapping paper, was rustled round about, and bikes were wheeled to bedrooms, with the pedals sticking out. Rolled up in Christmas paper the Action Men were tensed, all ready for the morning, when their fighting life commenced, with tommy guns and daggers, all clustered round about, "peace on Earth - Goodwill to Men" the figures seemed to shout. The church was standing empty, the pub was standing packed, There came a yell, "Noel, Noel!" And glasses they got cracked. From up above the fireplace, Christmas cards began to fall, and trodden on the floor, said: "Merry Christmas, to you all."

- SHEL SILVERSTEIN

MESSY ROOM Whosever room this is should be ashamed! His underwear is hanging on the lamp. His raincoat is there in the overstuffed chair, And the chair is becoming quite mucky and damp. His workbook is wedged in the window, His sweater's been thrown on the floor. His scarf and one ski are beneath the TV, And his pants have been carelessly hung on the door. His books are all jammed in the closet, His vest has been left in the hall. A lizard named Ed is asleep in his bed, And his smelly old sock has been stuck to the wall. Whosever room this is should be ashamed! Donald or Robert or Willie or- Huh? You say it's mine? Oh, dear, I knew it looked familiar!

- CHRISTINA ROSSETTI

AN ALPHABET A is the Alphabet, A at its head; A is an Antelope, agile to run. B is the Baker Boy bringing the bread, Or black Bear and brown Bear, both begging for bun. C is a Cornflower come with the corn; C is a Cat with a comical look. D is a Dinner which Dahlias adorn; D is a Duchess who dines with a Duke. E is an elegant eloquent Earl; E is an Egg whence an Eaglet emerges. F is a Falcon, with feathers to furl; F is a Fountain of full foaming surges. G is the Gander, the Gosling, the Goose; G is a Garnet in girdle of gold. H is a Heartsease, harmonious of hues; H is a huge Hammer, heavy to hold. I is an Idler who idles on ice; I am I — who will say I am not I? J is a Jacinth, a jewel of price; J is a Jay, full of joy in July. K is a King, or a Kaiser still higher; K is a Kitten, or quaint Kangaroo. L is a Lute or a lovely-toned Lyre; L is a Lily all laden with dew. M is a Meadow where Meadowsweet blows; M is a Mountain made dim by a mist. N is a Nut — in a nutshell it grows— Or a Nest full of Nightingales singing — oh list! O is an Opal, with only one spark; O is an Olive, with oil on its skin. P is a Pony, a pet in a park; P is the Point of a Pen or a Pin. Q is a Quail, quick-chirping at morn; Q is a Quince quite ripe and near dropping. R is a Rose, rosy red on a thorn; R is a red-breasted Robin come hopping. S is a Snow-storm that sweeps o'er the Sea; S is the Song that the swift Swallows sing. T is the Tea-table set out for tea; T is a Tiger with terrible spring. U, the Umbrella, went up in a shower; Or Unit is useful with ten to unite. V is a Violet veined in the flower; V is a Viper of venomous bite. W stands for the water-bred Whale; Stands for the wonderful Wax-work so gay. X, or XX, or XXX is ale, Or Policeman X, exercised day after day. Y is a yellow Yacht, yellow its boat; Y is the Yucca, the Yam, or the Yew. Z is a Zebra, zigzagged his coat, Or Zebu, or Zoophyte, seen at the Zoo.

- NINA MELITO

FOR YOU In the room across the hall Sitting on his bland oak chair Sat Ned, the most popular of all Among the other students there Writing quietly with an intent stare. He wrote to the one whom he cherished With confidence in his pen But suddenly that confidence perished He had heard a noise just then Like a lion pacing in his den. He placed his feet flat on the floor And gripped the wrinkled paper fast And heard the squeak of the door As the Teacher sternly asked That up front the paper be passed. The situation went from good to scary His face turned a striking red Like a freshly picked strawberry The students whispered, 'Go on, Ned' The teacher insisted that the note be read. As Teacher scanned the crinkled sheet Her face was strained and aglow And read from Ned's horrible feat 'Dear Clarice, I must know, Will you date me, yes or no?' In the room across the hall Sitting on his bland oak chair Sat Ned, the most popular of all Among the laughing students there Making excuses with an embarrassed stare.

- ALLAN AHLBERG

PLEASE MRS. BUTLER Please Mrs. Butler This boy Derek Drew Keeps copying my work, Miss. What shall I do? Go and sit in the hall, dear. Go and sit in the sink. Take your books on the roof, my lamb. Do whatever you think. Please Mrs. Butler This boy Derek Drew Keeps taking my rubber, Miss. What shall I do? Keep it in your hand, dear. Hide it up your vest. Swallow it if you like, my love. Do what you think best. Please Mrs. Butler This boy Derek Drew Keeps calling me rude names, Miss. What shall I do? Lock yourself in the cupboard, dear. Run away to sea. Do whatever you can, my flower. But don't ask me!

- RANDY THOMAS