Funny Poems

"Your love is rare, but your sense of humor - rarer!" Welcome to the funny poem section, where poetry meets hilarity!

Funny Poems

There was an Old Man of Columbia,
Who was thirsty, and called out for some beer;
But they brought it quite hot,
In a small copper pot,
Which disgusted that man of Columbia.
I made myself a snowball
As perfect as could be.
I thought I'd keep it as a pet
And let it sleep with me.
I made it some pajamas
And a pillow for its head.
Then last night it ran away,
But first it wet the bed.
"Simple Truths About Family"

Family, the people you share everything with...
Including colds, looks, leftovers, and feuds.

Family, the people you love the most...
But pretend not to know when you're out in public together.

Family, the people you can really count on...
To borrow clothes, money, and get on your last nerve.

Family, the people you respect...
Even though you'd rather die than let friends find out how crazy they are.

Family, the people you just can't live without...
Even though sometimes you're pretty sure you'd like to give it a try.

– Kelly Roper
She had so many chances
Yet she kept muffin it up
Butter intentions were good
Just not much coffee in her cup

Couldn’t make a good decision
Too much waffling back and forth
Always peppered with doubt
Should she head south, no maybe north

Still, she was fun at a party
I would say, hummus a tune
She’d say, Icing because I’m happy
As the words began to croon

Maybe that’s what’s most important
Omelet let her off the hook
So she’s always in a pickle
Doesn’t do things by the book

Once again, I’m gonna help her
Since she is such a good egg
I said, girl, you’d go much farther
If you weren’t such a nut Meg

(Mike Gentile)
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
I have a gun,
Get in the van.
The ham's on your pillow,
The egg's in your sheet,
The bran muffin's rollin'
Down under your feet,
There's milk in the mattress,
And juice on the spread -
Well, you said that you wanted
Your breakfast in bed.

(Shel Silverstein)
"The Fly"

God in his wisdom made the fly
And then forgot to tell us why.

– Ogden Nash
"My Cat Is Fat"

I’ve a cat named Vesters,
And he eats all day.
He always lays around,
And never wants to play.

Not even with a squeaky toy,
Nor anything that moves.
When I have him exercise,
He always disapproves.

So we’ve put him on a diet,
But now he yells all day.
And even though he’s thinner,
He still won’t come and play.

– James McDonald
There was an Old Man of the coast,
Who placidly sat on a post;
But when it was cold
He relinquished his hold
And called for some hot buttered toast.
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!
(Shel Silverstein)
"My Missing Shoe"

I looked for you by the front door,
Under my bed, on the bathroom floor,
Near the back stairs, in the drawer with my socks,
Next to the table, and out in the sandbox.
My mother is calling me, and I’m calling you,
Where have you gone, my missing shoe?
There was a young lady named Rose,
Who had a large wart on her nose.
When she had it removed,
Her appearance improved,
But her glasses slipped down to her toes.
She followed her nose,
One day, I suppose,
And no one knows which way she went.
I am a dog.
And you are a flower.
I lift my leg up.
And give you a shower!
There was a Young Lady of Tyre,
Who swept the loud chords of a lyre;
At the sound of each sweep
She enraptured the deep,
And enchanted the city of Tyre.
oses are red, violets are blue,
Coffee is bitter, and so are you.
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
I’m allergic to flowers,
Achoo!
Lots of people have a rug.
Very few have a Pug.

(E.B White)
My love, you are getting up there
Your age is climbing high
I am confident that I should stop talking
Or I may surely die!
Age is just a number,
Or so that’s what they say
And even though you are getting older,
I love you anyway.
The was a Young Lady of Bute,
Who played on a silver-gilt flute;
She played several jigs,
To her uncle's white pigs,
That amusing Young Lady of Bute.
There was an old lady from Ghent,
who slept on a bed of cement.
Her bed was well used,
and her body well bruised,
and the back of her head had a dent.
My father hates Thanksgiving.
It's all about the stuffing.
He says it smells like day-old socks.
So on his plate goes nothing.

He grits his teeth and goes to bed.
It gives my mother grief.
I think next year, this holiday,
instead we'll eat roast beef!

- Denise Rodgers
"Front Row"

My desk is in the first two rows
that’s just beneath the teacher’s nose
Her eyes are on me, just like glue.
She watches everything I do.
I raise my hand. I seldom speak.
I swear I am the perfect geek.
I wish I was row four or five,
and then I’d really come alive.
I’d throw some spitballs, pass some notes.
I’d really get the teacher’s goat.
I’d make them laugh. I’d be a ham.
I like to joke. That’s who I am.
My teacher knows — and what I fear
Is that is why she keeps me near.

– Denise Rodgers
There was a knock at my door as I paced the hall floor, and I knew, without looking, who I'd meet,
There'd be goblins and witches and zombies with stitches, and they'd joyfully cry out, Trick or Treat!
They'd expect sugar candy and plums soaked in brandy, and cake that I'd pull from my stash,
Peanuts and sweeties and pumpkin-shaped wheaties, plus a ready supply of hard cash.

And like a Biblical flood, they'd be dripping in blood, and they'd tramp it all into my rug,
And it's safe to surmise, that their Halloween guise, will have run up some change for some mug.
So I yell through my 'box, be gone, you're a pox, I have not got sweets for to give,
But they said, listen, you git, we don't give a shit, get some in if you'd like for to live.

But I didn't feel threatened by these juvenile cretins, and I told them, be off, bug the next street,
But they whispered, no dice, now are you going to play nice, and cough-up our Halloween treat?
I said, enough is enough, I was in a real h
Happy birthday twinkle toes
Your actual age no one knows
Your inner child is firmly out
Loving life not going without
And now another whole year older
Your bucket list is getting smaller
But everything that you have ticked
Is the same on my child’s wish list.
There once was a fly on the wall,
I wonder why didn't it fall.
Because its feet stuck,
Or was it just luck,
Or does gravity miss things so small?
Once there was an elephant,
Who tried to use the telephant—
No! No! I mean an elephone
Who tried to use the telephone—
(Dear me! I am not certain quite
That even now I’ve got it right.)
Howe’er it was, he got his trunk
Entangled in the telephunk;
The more he tried to get it free,
The louder buzzed the telephee—
(I fear I’d better drop the song
Of elephop and telephong!)

(Laura E. Richards)
I once fell in love with a blonde,
But found that she wasn't so fond.
Of my pet turtle named Odle,
whom I'd taught how to Yodel,
So she dumped him outside in the pond.
I saw you walking by me,
And I fell for you right then.
The sun was shining on your face,
Your hair was blowing in the wind.
But something strange did happen,
A shimmer came across your face.
I blinked and suddenly you were gone,
My heart increased its pace.
I looked around to try and find you,
But alas, you left, you’d gone,
My beautiful reflection,
Washed away inside the pond.
To keep your marriage brimming
With love in the loving cup,
Whenever you’re wrong, admit it;
Whenever you’re right, shut up.

— Ogden Nash
Expand your mind. Get
To work. Better yet, put your
Feet up. Watch TV.
“Father”

My father knows the proper way
The nation should be run;
He tells us children every day
Just what should now be done.
He knows the way to fix the trusts,
He has a simple plan;
But if the furnace needs repairs,
We have to hire a man.

– Edgar Albert Guest
"Joker Grandpa"

Always finds a way, to make fun of my folks,
He is hilarious, with plenty of jokes.
A true expert, on many pranks,
For making us laugh; a little thanks.

At the dinner table, he’s rarely serious,
His tricks are cool and quite mysterious.
I’m not saying that he knows magic,
Some of his stunts are lame and tragic.

Grandpa knows how to pull your strings,
A cheerful guy, that constantly sings.
Never know, what he’ll come up with next,
Our joker grandpa, fun and perplex.
There was a Young Lady of Welling,
Whose praise all the world was a-telling;
She played on a harp,
And caught several carp,
That accomplished Young Lady of Welling.
There was a Young Lady whose eyes,
Were unique as to colour and size;
When she opened them wide,
People all turned aside,
And started away in surprise.
"99 Dogs"

I saw two people heading off for a walk
with 99 dogs in a pack.
So, I asked them why they had so many dogs,
and they thought for a while and said back,
“We’ve tried having different numbers of dogs:
from a lot to hardly any.
The lesson we’ve learned is 98’s not enough
but 100 dogs is too many.”
A young gourmet dining at Crewe,
Found a rather large mouse in his stew.
Said the waiter, Don't shout,
And wave it about,
Or the rest will be wanting one, too.
Roses are red, Roses are blue
Depending on their velocity relative to you
There once was a man from kanass,
Who's nuts were made out of brass.
in stormy weather,
he'd clack them together,
and lightning shot out of his ass.
I love you so much, you’re so perfect to me,
You’re gorgeous and smart, you make me happy.
Your talent amazes me, you’re so good at all things,
You’re better than anyone at plucking my heartstrings,
And now that you know and you’re in a great mood,
Please do me a favor and make me some food!
There was a Young Lady of Sweden,
Who went by the slow rain to Weedon;
When they cried, 'Weedon Station!'
She made no observation
But thought she should go back to Sweden.
There was an Old Man of the Wrekin
Whose shoes made a horrible creaking
But they said, 'Tell us whether,
Your shoes are of leather,
Or of what, you Old Man of the Wrekin?'
I love the way you look at me,
The sharpness of your gaze.
The way I hold you my arms,
You keep me in a haze.
I love the scent you bring with you, when you come into my home.
You bring me so much happiness,
I can’t leave you alone.
You pale them in comparison,
The rest cannot do better.
You are my favorite in the world,
I love you so much, Cheddar.
There was an Old Man in a boat,
Who said, 'I'm afloat, I'm afloat!'
When they said, 'No! you ain't!'
He was ready to faint,
That unhappy Old Man in a boat.
The people upstairs all practise ballet
Their living room is a bowling alley
Their bedroom is full of conducted tours.
Their radio is louder than yours,
They celebrate week-ends all the week.
When they take a shower, your ceilings leak.
They try to get their parties to mix
By supplying their guests with Pogo sticks,
And when their fun at last abates,
They go to the bathroom on roller skates.
I might love the people upstairs more
If only they lived on another floor.
All doggies go to heaven - or so I've been told.
They run and play along the streets of Gold.
Why is heaven such a doggie-delight?
Why, because there's not a single cat in sight!
Sandy was a chocoholic,
The worst I've ever seen!
If she didn't eat some daily,
She'd become crazy mean!

It didn't matter what kind it was,
Ice cream, cake, pie or candy,
As long as it was chocolate,
Sandy was fine and dandy!

Then one day the unthinkable happened,
To the chocolate loving miss,
While eating her favorite candy,
She choked on a chocolate kiss!

"Death by chocolate," the coroner concluded,
As to the cause of Sandy's death.
At least she died doing what she loved,
Eating chocolate til her last breath.

(Kim Merryman)
There was a young lady from Niger,
Who smiled as she rode on a tiger.
They came back from the ride,
With the lady inside,
And the smile on the face of the tiger.
There was an Old Person of Cheadle,
Who was put in the stocks by the beadle
For stealing some pigs,
Some coats, and some wigs,
That horrible person of Cheadle.
Amazingly, antelope stew,
Is supposedly better for you.
Than a goulash of rat,
Or Hungarian cat,
But I guess that something you knew.
Tinkle, Tinkle little car
How I wonder what you are.
Leaking oil every day
Having it your own way.
Going up hills real slow
I don’t want you any mo’.
Tinkle, Tinkle little car
Boy, what a lemon you are.
(Cecilia L. Goodbody)