Funny Poems P4
The home of hilarious poems. Here
you will find an awesome collection of funny
poems that I hope you will enjoy, although each of us has different ideas
of what a funny poem would
incorporate. I think that people who can write such hilarious poems are very talented. A fun poem or funny poem is
in the category of poems that usually based on a theme or situation. Fun poems, very funny poems, funny poem,
funny poetry would have to rate as my favorite type of poetry.
Many, many years ago
when I was twenty-three,
I got married to a widow
who was as pretty as could be.
This widow had a grown-up daughter
who had hair of red.
My father fell in love with her,
and soon the two were wed.
This made my dad my son-in-law
and change my very life.
My daughter was my mother,
for she was my father’s wife.
To complicate the matters worse,
although it brought me joy,
I soon became the father
of a bouncing baby boy.
My little baby then became
a brother-in-law to dad.
And so became by uncle,
though it made me very sad.
For if he was my uncle,
then that also made him brother
To the widow’s grown up daughter who,
of course, was my step-mother
Father’s wife then had a son,
who kept them on the run.
And he became my grandson,
for he was my daughter’s son.
My wife is now my mother’s mother
and it makes me blue,
Because, although she is my wife,
she’s my grandma too.
If my wife is my grandmother,
then I am her grandchild
And every time I think of it,
it simply drives me wild.
For now I have become
the strangest case you ever saw,
As the husband of my grandmother,
I am my own grandpa!
By - Moe Jaffe & Dwight Latham
To A Cat
Stately, kindly, lordly friend,
Condescend
Here to sit by me, and turn
Glorious eyes that smile and burn,
Golden eyes, love’s lustrous meed,
On the golden page I read.
All your wondrous wealth of hair,
Dark and fair,
Silken-shaggy, soft and bright
As the clouds and beams of night,
Pays my reverent hand’s caress
Back with friendlier gentleness.
Dogs may fawn on all and some
As they come;
You, a friend of loftier mind,
Answer friends alone in kind.
Just your foot upon my hand
Softly bids it understand.
Morning round this silent sweet
Garden-seat
Sheds its wealth of gathering light,
Thrills the gradual clouds with might,
Changes woodland, orchard, heath,
Lawn, and garden there beneath.
Fair and dim they gleamed below:
Now they glow
Deep as even your sunbright eyes,
Fair as even the wakening skies.
Can it not or can it be
Now that you give thanks to see?
May not you rejoice as I,
Seeing the sky
Change to heaven revealed, and bid
Earth reveal the heaven it hid
All night long from stars and moon,
Now the sun sets all in tune?
What within you wakes with day
Who can say?
All too little may we tell,
Friends who like each other well,
What might haply, if we might,
Bid us read our lives aright.
Wild on woodland ways your sires
Flashed like fires:
Fair as flame and fierce and fleet
As with wings on wingless feet
Shone and sprang your mother, free,
Bright and brave as wind or sea.
Free and proud and glad as they,
Here to-day
Rests or roams their radiant child,
Vanquished not, but reconciled,
Free from curb of aught above
Save the lovely curb of love.
Love through dreams of souls divine
Fain would shine
Round a dawn whose light and song
Then should right our mutual wrong
Speak, and seal the love-lit law
Sweet Assisi’s seer foresaw.
Dreams were theirs; yet haply may
Dawn a day
When such friends and fellows born,
Seeing our earth as fair at morn,
May for wiser love’s sake see
More of heaven’s deep heart than we.
By - Algernon Charles Swinburne
Just A Note
When I die, I’m going someplace
That I have never been.
You can be sure I won’t be back
If Heaven lets me in.
Don’t know much about this place
Just what I’ve heard and read.
One of the requirements is
You’ve got to go there dead.
A couple of things I ask of you
Be you friend or be you kin.
Don’t pack away my memories
As if I’d never been.
Don’t be sad when you think of me
Or remember me with tears.
Just think about the funny things
We laughed at through the years.
It’s ok if you want to miss me
But that’s as far as it should go.
Just think about me now & then
And go on with the show.
So, this is just a note to say
Don’t cry and don’t you fret
I’m hanging in and going strong
You see, I AIN’T DEAD YET!
By - Darlene Navarro
Job Responsibility
There was a most important job that needed to be done,
And no reason not to do it, there was absolutely none.
But in vital matters such as this, the thing you have to ask
Is who exactly will it be who’ll carry out the task?
Anybody could have told you that everybody knew
That this was something somebody would surely have to do.
Nobody was unwilling; anybody had the ability.
But nobody believed that it was their responsibility.
It seemed to be a job that anybody could have done,
If anybody thought he was supposed to be the one.
But since everybody recognized that anybody could,
Everybody took for granted that somebody would.
But nobody told anybody that we are aware of,
That he would be in charge of seeing it was taken care of.
And nobody took it on himself to follow through,
And do what everybody thought that somebody would do.
When what everybody needed so did not get done at all,
Everybody was complaining that somebody dropped the ball.
Anybody then could see it was an awful crying shame,
And everybody looked around for somebody to blame.
Somebody should have done the job
And Everybody should have,
But in the end Nobody did
What Anybody could have.
Poem Author: Charles Osgood
It's All Relative
My mother’s brother’s sister’s name is Grace
She’s my aunt and likes to go from place to place
My mother’s sister’s brother’s name is Brad
He’s my uncle and he is my cousin’s Dad
My grandmother on my mother’s side
Is my maternal gran, she is my grandfather’s bride
She also is my father’s mother-in-law
And not surprisingly they often go to war
My cousin is the nephew of my mother
His father happens to be my mother’s brother
My aunty’s niece is in fact myself
I hope you’re not too confused, because I can’t help
By - Alessandra Liverani
In Too Deep
A big bull frog had jumped and found
Himself no longer on the ground.
A pail of water, cold and deep,
That from its’ grasp, he couldn’t leap.
I saw him struggling to be free
And for his plight, I soon found pity;
I dumped the pail but feared to touch
This creature ugly, warts and such.
I’m thankful for the souls who see,
My warts and yet, they pity me,
When in the water, I too, take leap
And find myself in there too deep.
By - Gloria Sarasin
The Day I Stopped The Traffic
It was a cold day in august that year
The sun was shining, the day so clear.
I lay there thinking what a wonderful day
Nothing seems broken, I heard myself say
Then aunt Rose’s voice hit my ear
Get up girl you can’t just lie here!
I would if I could my dear old aunt
But the fact of the matter is I just can’t!
My feet somehow had got a mind of their own
And before I knew it my decorum had gone
As I slipped and landed flat out on the street there
With cars banked at lights the drivers did stare.
Not one got out of his comfy seat
To help this old girl back onto her feet.
But I didn’t mind I have to say
Because I was laughing too much anyway!
And all I could think, I must confess
Is thank goodness I’m wearing a fairly long dress
Not a thing out of place as I lay there and laughed
Til the cars started moving with me in their path!
I was up like an athlete and back on the curb
Before aunt could get out another word.
Not a bone broken nor bruise to show
For the day I fell flat out in the street you know
Because there is not a shred of doubt in my mind
God sent angels to catch me, isn’t He kind!
And years later I still find myself smiling
at the day I stopped traffic without even trying!
Fried
A little potato fell out of his bed
visions of mashers filled him with dread.
All his small eyes were darting about
he couldn't see to chip his way out.
Looking around for someplace to hide
he slid in some grease and sighed.
Sadly his friends they cried and cried
for he wasn't mashed just fried.
I Can’t Remember
Just a line to say I’m living
that I’m not among the dead,
Though I’m getting more forgetful
and mixed up in my head
I got used to my arthritis
to my dentures I’m resigned,
I can manage my bifocals
but God, I miss my mind
For sometimes I can’t remember
when I stand at the foot of the stairs,
If I must go up for something
or have I just come down from there?
And before the fridge so often
my poor mind is filled with doubt,
Have I just put food away, or
have I come to take some out?
And there’s a time when it is dark
with my nightcap on my head,
I don’t know if I’m retiring, or
just getting out of bed
So, if it’s my turn to write you
there’s no need for getting sore,
I may think I have written
and don’t want to be a bore
So, remember that I love you
and wish that you were near,
But now it’s nearly mail time
So I must say goodbye, dear
There I stand beside the mail box
with a face so very red,
Instead of mailing you my letter
I opened it instead
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