There was an Old Man with a gong,
Who bumped at it all day long.
But they called out, no more,
You're a horrid old bore,
So they smashed that Old Man with a gong.

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!

If you’re lacking a little good cheer,
Go and tickle a bull in the rear.
For I’m sure that the rumor,
That they’ve no sense of humor,
Is a product of ignorant fear.

Roses are red.
Violets are blue.
God made me pretty.
What happened to you?

King Hero of old Syracuse had doubts that made him frown.
"Perhaps my goldsmith did not use pure gold to make the crown."
Since proof of mischief must be strong to put a thief in collar,
The king who feared his judgment wrong called on his science scholar.
"Archimedes, friend of old, find me the solution!
Is my crown pure solid gold, or is that an illusion?"
The scholar's task was serious; he struggled hard with math.
His mind was near delirious until he poured his bath.
He noticed how the water pushed him up as he stepped in.
He thought about it harder as he stroked his bearded chin.
"The weight of displaced liquid should always let me know
When any golden solid has a density too low!"
"Eureka!", he resounded. "I have such a clever mind".
Yet his claim was unfounded 'cause he left his clothes behind!

(by Robert Z)

here was a dog owner named Mark
Whose beagle would constantly bark
The neighbours would moan
They’d steal Benji’s bone
And toss it away in the park.

Look who’s turning 100,
Your life couldn't be brighter,
With enough candles on your cake,
You have the world's best lighter.


(Kevin Nishmas)

Jim ordered a racehorse online
A thoroughbred sold in it's prime.
Now just for a laugh
They sent a giraffe
But it wins by a neck every time.

(Ray Gridley)

There once was a lad from West Philly
Who played basketball and got silly
He fought with some brothers
Which worried his mother
Now he's know as Bel Air's Fresh Prince, Willy

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
White wine costs less,
Than dinner for two.

My eyes are full of tears,
that they can see no more.
I wish you were here.
But only to chop these onions for me.

Grace personified
I leap into the window
I meant to do that.

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.

Bark bark bark
Let me get up to see
It appears my dog is summoning me
Bark Bark Bark
That old familiar sound
As I peer out the window
With my loud mouthed hound
Bark Bark Bark
Looking in the distance I finally see
Why she’s been barking at me
Bark Bark Bark
There’s a leaf in the yard
And it’s blowing away
This is how we’ll spend
Most of our day

"Exclamation!"

I have a strange addiction,
It often sets off sparks!
I really cannot seem to stop,
Using exclamation marks!

They appear when I am writing!
Even in a shopping list!
If I don’t put one at the end
I feel something’s been missed!

It started as a positive!
It made people feel happy!
But now, I fear, it may bring tears!
It makes my teacher snappy!

Exclamation marks (!!!)
Can show how to command,
They show when things are exciting!
Or getting out of hand!

As you can see this problem,
Is one I now must end.
But, I can’t help but feel, maybe,
The question mark’s my friend?

(Anyone heard of the interrobang?!)

– Fiona Halliday

There was an Old Man of Coblenz,
The length of whose legs was immense;
He went with one prance
From Turkey to France,
That surprising Old Man of Coblenz.

"Granny"

Through every nook and every cranny
The wind blew in on poor old Granny
Around her knees, into each ear
(And up her nose as well, I fear)

All through the night the wind grew worse
It nearly made the vicar curse
The top had fallen off the steeple
Just missing him (and other people)

It blew on man, it blew on beast
It blew on nun, it blew on priest
It blew the wig off Auntie Fanny-
But most of all, it blew on Granny!

– Spike Milligan

I love you I love you
I do
I’ll play the kazoo
I may not be good
It may be too loud
I love you I love you
I’ll dance a jig
I may miss a step
or fall on my pig
I love you I love you
I do
even if this poem isn’t cool

Fifty is ten past forty
Age is but a number and counting time tends to bore me.

There was an Old Person of Chester,
Whom several small children did pester;
They threw some large stones,
Which broke most of his bones,
And displeased that Ols Person of Chester.

Roses are gray,
Violets are gray.
You are gray,
I’m a dog.

Shoe laces.
Must attack at once.
Didn't know that was you.

One day I found two pumpkin seeds.
I planted one and pulled the weeds.
It sprouted roots and a big, long vine.
A pumpkin grew; I called it mine.
The pumpkin was quite round and fat.
(I really am quite proud of that.)
But there is something I’ll admit
That has me worried just a bit.
I ate the other seed, you see.
Now will it grow inside of me?

"The Legs Are Last To Go"

Aunt Ruthie used to sing and dance
a jolly way to find romance
she said one thing that you should know

“The legs are last to go”
“The legs are last to go”

She’d sing her praises right out loud
and wear her stockings high and proud
she still had much that she could show

The legs are last to go

The years roll by and beauty fades
and yet her gams, she still parades
she’s 83 and don’t cha know
her legs were last to go

Her legs were last to go.


– Mike Gentile

My dear, I’ve got some important news,
Please know it’s nothing bad,
But today I had to X-ray my head,
And your picture is all it had!

My eyes are full of tears
That they can see no more
I wish you were here
To chop these onions for me.

(Unknown)

There was an Old Person of Dean,
Who dined on one pea and one bean;
For he said,
"More than that would make me too fat,"
That cautious Old Person of Dean.

The kids are rumbling and tumblin'

Grandpa's snoring and a grumbling.

The football teams are taking a knee,

On Grandma's big screen t.v.

The leaves outside are turning yellow

'Cause winter's coming to say hello.

The aunts are all fussin' in the kitchen,

Wait a minute, it must be Thanksgivin'!

Oh my beloved belly button.
The squidgy ring in my midriff mutton.
Your mystery is such tricky stuff:
Why are you so full of fluff?
(Richard Leavesley)

There was an Old Man with a beard,
Who sat on a horse when he reared;
But they said, "Never mind!
You will fall off behind,
You propitious Old Man with a beard!"

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.

"Grandma's On The Dancefloor"

Grandma's on the dancefloor
Shaking what she's got.
If it don't shake, it wobbles,
And boy, does it wobble a lot.

The old moves don't come easy
Even though she's got new hips.
She swings them almost freely now,
And you can barely hear them click.

Grandad's in the corner,
Sipping on his beer.
Will he shake his booty?
My Grandad - No fear!

Grandma means the world to him,
And he's her Mr. Right.
He's the one who'll walk her home,
The one she'll kiss goodnight.

My sister just got married,
And the party's in full sway.
She's hand in hand with Grandma
Twisting the night away.

Sister pulls Gran closer
To make sure that she's listening.
Then Grandma stops and shouts aloud
"We're going to have a Christening."

– Graham Craven

"Grandma's Off Her Rocker!"

In the dim and distant past,
When life's tempo wasn't fast,
Grandma used to rock and knit,
Crochet, tat, and babysit.
When we were in a jam,
We could always count on gram.
In the age of gracious living,
Grandma's life was one of giving.
But today...
Now grandma's at the gym,
Exercising to keep slim,
She's off touring with the bunch,
Or taking all her friends to lunch.
Driving north to fish or hike,
Taking time to ride her bike.
Nothing seems to block or stop her,
Now that grandma's off her rocker.

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 is a young schoolboy named Mason,
Whose mom cuts his hair with a basin.
When he stands in one place,
With a scarf round his face,
It's a mystery which way he’s facing.

"I’m Nobody! Who are you?"

I’m Nobody! Who are you?
Are you – Nobody – too?
Then there’s a pair of us!
Don’t tell! they’d advertise – you know!
How dreary – to be – Somebody!
How public – like a Frog –
To tell one’s name – the livelong June –
To an admiring Bog!

– Emily Dickinson

I knew this gambler.
He bet it all on a bluff.
He is now homeless.

There was an Old Man of Dundee,
Who frequented the top of a tree;
When disturbed by the crows,
He abruptly arose,
And exclaimed, 'I'll return to Dundee.'

Help, me I am trapped
In a haiku factory
save me, before they

There was an Old Person of Cadiz,
Who was always polite to all ladies;
But in handing his daughter,
He fell into the water,
Which drowned that Old Person of Cadiz.

There was an Old Lady of Prague,
Whose language was horribly vague;
When they said, 'Are these caps?'
She answered, 'Perhaps!'
That oracular Lady of Prague.

"Night Noises"

My parents' bedroom is far from mine, so I have to wonder
What the noise is every night that sounds a lot like thunder.
We don't live near the seashore, but almost every morn
I'm wakened by a noise that sounds like a fog horn.

It's louder than the sound of barking dogs at night
Or a fireworks explosion that lights the sky real bright.
A chainsaw cutting logs doesn't make as much din,
Nor did the wall coming down way over in Berlin.

A jet plane at takeoff will get your attention quick,
As will a jackhammer engaged in busting up some brick.
But neither equals the clamor from Mom and Dad's bedroom,
Worse than a stack of dynamite at the moment of KABOOM!

At last, I figured out the source of all the raucous roaring.
It was only good old Dad engaging in some snoring
Mom says: "I don't mind; it's really a Godsend
That all that wind isn't coming out the other end."

– Alan Balter

It’s your birthday, I know
But I couldn’t care less
Where is the cake, that’s the part I love best?
I understand it’s your birthday
But I am telling you now
If the cake doesn’t come soon
I’m throwing in the towel

It was Halloween and
We were on our way to a party
They were both dressed as vampires
And I was Professor Moriarty

We stopped at the supermarket
But didn’t have any cash
So we thought we’d steal some booze
Then make a dash

The bottles we wanted
Were on the very top of the racks
Which we couldn’t reach
So I had to stand on their backs

Once I had the bottles
Dracula hid them under his cape
And without drawing attention
We casually made our escape

But we were caught on CCTV
A very clear image by all accounts
I was charged with shoplifting
On two counts.


- Paul Curtis

"My Sweet Aunt Mabel"

There is my sweet Aunt Mabel
sitting across the table
ever since her divorce
she eats like a horse
so we put her up in a stable.

– Michael Wise

There once was a girl named Zoe,
She went out in her yard which was quite snowy.
She ate her brother,
Asked her parents for another,
So they had another named Joey.
There was a young lady of Kent,
Whose nose was most awfully bent.

Today is your birthday, don’t pull your hair,
Look in the mirror, nature was fair,
Not a day over twenty,
I’m kidding, you’re plenty.

Don’t mean to burst your bubble,
But stop asking for trouble,
You know what I mean,
When you drink that caffeine.

What should I bring?
Just give me a ring.
Elephant or clown?
I knew you would frown.

(Martin Dejnicki)

"A Knotty Problem"

A scarf for a giraffe
Would be forty feet long
But how would a giraffe
Know how to put one on?

– Patrick Winstanley

"Slicing Salami"

The strangest, strange stranger I met in my life
was the man who made use of his nose like a knife.
He’d slice up salami, tomatoes, and cheese
at the tip of his nose with phenomenal ease.
He’d buy food in bulk at incredible prices
and then use his nose to reduce it to slices.
His wife ran away and I know that he’ll miss her.
The woman was frightened that one day he’d kiss her!

– Denise Rodgers

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