Funny Poems P5
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Tail Chasing
Running, running, here I go
To catch my tail but I’m so slow
And lagging, dragging, my behind
To try to catch up with my mind.
Tripping, falling on my tongue
That is often too high-strung,
Dropping words I have to eat
And spitting them upon my feet.
Keeping up with things today
Is harder than my words can say
For every time I think I’ve won,
There I fall down on my bun.
My body’s old, my mind is young;
Upon a cloud, my dreams are hung
And so if you should see me cry,
You will know the cloud’s passed by.
Slower, slower, now I go
Like Wisconsin winters in the snow,
So if you want to walk with me,
You’ll have to slow down or carry me.
By - Gloria Sarasin
Advice in Abundance
Unsolicited advice free and abundant:
So much of it there its often redundant.
When I was a lad and easily impressed:
I listened and nodded at the experts’ behest.
Opinions they flaunted on a scale universal:
Expounding at length without forethought or rehearsal.
With style and emotion, each made a case:
Of factual content there was rarely a trace.
Middle age found me as the consummate cynic:
Quick to retort and given to mimic.
With the passage of time I relaxed my position:
Improvised wisdom doesn’t require a logician.
In the twilight of life there is time for a chat:
I now render advice at the drop of a hat.
The Family Cat
The family cat, it died the day
That everybody was away.
When they got home, they were distraught,
Because it was an after thought
To check it, so they did not find
The furry corpse it left behind
Until it had been dead awhile.
No rub, no purr, no cheerful smile.
Though deeply grieved, they did not sit,
Instead they thought to bury it.
The woman dug the shallow grave,
The boy, one final farewell gave,
Then laid its lifeless body down
Into the damp earth, cold and brown.
The woman, bent to cover up
The cat, encountered one hiccup,
The overlooked forgotten sin,
Of rigor mortis setting in.
And though poor puss was unaware,
His stiffened tail stood in the air
In homage to the terminal;
A stark and forlorn sentinel.
The woman cried and tried in vain
To lay the cats tail down again,
Until so wracked with grief, and sick,
She wedged it ‘neath a garden brick.
The boy was taken by a fit,
The woman first thought grief was it,
But on a closer look she found
Him laughing, writhing on the ground.
“You horrid child, your cat has died,
You shouldn’t laugh at that!” she cried.
But still he laughed, hysterical,
He found her antics comical.
The woman, still to end her task
To put the cat to rest at last,
So angry with the boy that she
Attacked to job ferociously.
And muttered to herself the while;
What horrid boy could be so vile?
How could he err so callously?
To find such mirth in tragedy?
But still he laughed until he cried,
The woman hot and fuming tried
To finish planting puss away,
That done, she had some words to say.
“You stop that laughing now! You hear?”
She took the poor boy by the ear
And cracked him ‘cross his curly dome,
“Just wait until your father’s home!”
With that, she marched him to the house
To wait for her expected spouse.
That night the household would resound
With screeches, laughter, round and round,
The story swinging to and fro
From tales of mirth, to grief and woe
As one another did regale
The story of the dead cats tail.
But down the bottom of the hill,
A little mound of dirt there still,
With time and wind and weathering,
The garden brick’s uncovering!
Oh may we never see the day
When earth and brick erode away,
Exposing such a grievous view,
Of resurrected tail anew!
By - Stringybark
Talk Of The Devil
In ‘Deaths’ today I saw my name,
“Can’t be” I thought, and looked again,
Yet there it was as plain as plain,
In black and white it said the same.
“But no! said I, this cannot be
For here I am for all to see.”
“It must be someone else not me,
A case of wrong identity”.
Rang a number, crossly said,
“How dare you tell the world I’m dead,
That this living life I’ve fled,
You surely must be off your head”.
The gleeful voice that answered back,
Said, “Yeah, yeah man - they all say that,
Believe it man, you’ve hung your hat,
You kicked the bucket two hours back”.
“You’ve dialed Limbo triple 0,
Press 1 for yes or 2 for no,
The choice of where you wanna go,
Is wings above or fire below “.
“But be aware, I gotta say
It makes no difference either way,
Your future’s looking grim and gray,
It’s roast and toast for you this day”.
The roar of flames, the smell of soot?
The stamping of a cloven foot?
Must I drink this bitter cup?
“Like Hell! ” I said, as I woke up.
By - John Pickersgill
Pussy In Tights
Oh dear…I am in such distress
My pussy is in a right mess
She bites off her fur, which is causing a stir
So I covered her up in a dress
“Oh no” I hear most of you growl
Treating her like that is just foul
But what can I do, with her legs black and blue
So I bandaged her up in a towel
Now that didn’t work…nor a sock
Repairing her legs is a crock
I know what I’ll do, cut me pantyhose in two
As I hear all you cat lovers mock
So I shoveled her paws through the gap
As my energy levels did sap
Got into a knot, with ‘em stuck up her bott
Coz the gusset stopped her from a cr..p
Well, I have been laughing…two nights
And I shouldn’t make jokes, not by rights
But the funniest view, as I’m doubled in two
Is the sight of my pussy in tights.
By - Samantha M Jones
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