Funny Poems

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    K. A. Grey

    @kb-writer   Thank you!  I wrote it the same morning I posted it.  My younger sister and I were talking about how funny it would be if house‘s plural was hice, and rice‘s singular was rouse.

    • This reply was modified 3 years, 5 months ago by K. A. Grey.

    @k-a-grey Your poem is darling! 🙂 I loved it so much.

    I’ve not been on here for a while, but here’s a poem you might have fun with.

    A Troublesome Evil

    What is that metal shine I see,
    The glint of steel between your teeth,
    That colored grin you flaunt at me—
    Have you an explanation?
    Are they pasted gems with sticky stuff
    Attached behind and underneath,
    Or jewels that intend to bluff
    Me into fascination?

    And what about that ugly wire
    That string across from tooth to tooth?
    Am I to scorn it, or admire
    That tasteless work of art?
    They look as if they’d just been greased,
    So heathenish, and so uncouth!
    To wear them at the very least,
    Indeed! You are not smart!

    What is that smile upon your lips
    That silences my great outburst?
    Is there a joke that I have missed—
    I do in many cases.
    Ah! Now you’ve stepped into the light
    I see you’ve got the very worst,
    For now I understand your plight:
    You’ve got those awful braces!

    Elen síla lúmenn' omentielvo

    K. A. Grey

    @libby  Thanks so much!  I’m glad you enjoyed it.

    Your poem was very fun to read.  I like your rhyme scheme, and the rhythm and choice of words were delightful.  It reminded me of perhaps an alien visiting earth, and being confused by our strange customs.   (That probably sounds weird.) 👽

    Katherine Baker


    Haha! Your poem was so perfectly in-tune with how I felt about my braces when I had them! Made me chuckle the whole way through.

    I need to write a brand-new funny poem. I haven’t in a while…

    Alien! I surprisingly accurate description of how her poem felt.

    Always remember you're unique...
    ...Just like everyone else

    Katherine Baker

    All right, I couldn’t resist!

    Here’s a poem that’s a dramatized account of a real situation I was in. Hope you enjoy!


    Slaughtering Chickens

    Here to slaughter chickens, for yummy, finger-lickin’,

    tasty meals. They’re here for pickin’


    They’re about to die, but I forgot to cry.

    My mind’s too set on Chicken Pot Pie.


    My friend’s in tow, and as we go

    I distract my mind from what I know:


    I won’t be thinner when I eat them for dinner

    and they’ll be dead, so no one’s the winner.


    My friend – the shame! – she loved the game

    and made the mistake to give them a name


    Ben and Rob, Sam and Bob,

    “Chicken’s are girls!” I laugh and sob


    I hear them all Gobble, Ben’s in a squabble.

    “He’ll be a chicken nugget” my voice starts to wobble


    The farmer is here, I see all her gear.

    The time to kill my friends is near.


    The wind blows my hair and I can’t help but stare.

    “Goodbye, dear chickens”, I cry in despair


    But then, the glee! The chickens are free!

    “Can’t do it,” says the farmer, “it’s too windy.”


    They’re back in a pen, and I promise Ben

    “I’ll never go to slaughter chickens again!”


    I think on the coop, riding home with my troop.

    I ask what’s for dinner, Mom says:

                        “Chicken Soup.”

    Always remember you're unique...
    ...Just like everyone else

    K. A. Grey


    In reply to “Slaughtering Chickens

    The Chickens’ Dirge

    We are each killed, one by one

    Pound by pound, and ton by ton.


    Mouthful by mouthful, to be eaten we die,

    In grease and oil and batter we fry.


    In soup and broth we boil and boil;

    We char on the grill enshrouded in foil.


    We give you eggs, but still you eat

    Our legs, our wings, our flesh, our meat.


    By the way, this is just for “fun” and I have nothing against KFC, so no offense, anyone.  Sorry it’s kind of a morbid poem, but slaughtering chickens is kind of a morbid subject, so…  🍗🍗🍗
    <p class=”p1″></p>

    Katherine Baker


    Wow, that is morbid. I felt kind of bad eating chicken for dinner after reading this. 🙂

    Always remember you're unique...
    ...Just like everyone else

    K. A. Grey

    @kb-writer  Auuugh!  Please don’t feel bad.  Now I feel awful for posting it.

    *assumes Anne Shirley-ish position*  “Please forgive me.  It was morbid, and horrid, and I am a terrible poet.  Please, please forgive me.”  😭😫

    Quick, someone post something light and cheerful again.

    K. A. Grey

    @kb-writer  The poem also wasn’t personally directed at you.  I meant it more from the viewpoint of a chicken, but… Oh, I feel so horrid now.

    Katherine Baker


    Don’t feel horrible! Now I feel bad!

    The Guilt Chain

    The words revealed that I was squeamish and

    now you feel so bad,

    and I feel bad for making you sad.

    It’s like a thank-you chain

    where we thank each other for the “thank-you”, 

    expect not so easily dispelled by “That’s enough”

    for guilt doesn’t really vanish. 

    Always remember you're unique...
    ...Just like everyone else

    K. A. Grey


    “Now I feel bad…” and on it goes

    This endless chain of guilt.

    Let me stop this cycle and end

    This pain that I built.

    Let’s put aside this hideous ghost,

    And I’ll think twice before I post.

    K. A. Grey

    @kb-writer  A peace offering.  And then I promise I won’t bother you any more. 😉  Here’s a (hopefully) funny piece I wrote:

    The Critic

    For her a pumpkin spice latte

    For me a plain black coffee…

    Well, hello, yourself.  What am I doing?  Well, I’m writing a poem.

    See? It’s called “A Coffee Shop.”  That’s boring?  Well, why don’t you come up with a better–

    Say that again?  Coffee doesn’t rhyme with latte?  Sure it does– it rhymes better than, say, prune juice, anyway.

    All the flavurs of autumn…

    What’s that?  I spelled flavur wrong?  It’s not supposed to have an u in it?  Well, of course it’s not supposed to have you–  You meant the letter?  Well, the British spell it with an u.  With a what?  An o.  Oh, what?  An O, too?  Isn’t O2 oxygen?  What?  You’re confusing me.  No, I was doing just fine, thank you.  You’re distracting me.

    Creamy, frothy, spicy latte…

    What’s that?  It lacks meaning?  WHATDAYAMEAN IT LACKS MEANING!?!  It means I went to a coffee shop and ordered a pumpk– That’s meaningless?  Well, say, if you’re so smart, how about you write it yourself?  You’re too busy?

    I wonder what you’re doing now, then…

    Katherine Baker


    Haha! I love that one.

    By the way, don’t feel bad about your earlier one. The fact that it made me feel reluctant to eat chicken for a few days only means you’re a good poet (better than you thought, apparently). 🙂

    Always remember you're unique...
    ...Just like everyone else

    K. A. Grey

    @kb-writer  *reverts back to Anne Shirley-ish position*  “Ms. Baker, you have given me great hope.  I shall always think of you as my benefactress…..”

    Anyway, thank you for your kind comments.  I don’t think making someone feel bad about eating the meat of domestic avifauna is good poetry, but I thank you for your graciousness.  😊


    @kb-writer @k-a-grey You guys!

    are great.


    Anyways, haven’t been on here for a while, but here’s a poem I cooked up the other day.  Have fun!

    Who I Am…Or Maybe Not

    I’m not a perfect person.
    You know that, but I thought I’d
    tell you what it’s like to be
    the girl I am.
    And yet, I really do not want
    to tell you everything because
    I am not who you think
    I am—
    that’s just the way
    I am.
    And right now, I am
    struggling with telling you
    what’s most important, yet
    I’m really dying to tell you
    all about myself.
    And now, I think that
    I will stop
    with pen and ink this
    scratching on my
    paper, for I do not want to
    bore you any longer.
    (or tell you about myself—
    my real self!)
    So please stop reading—
    go away—
    it’s nicer knowing you
    don’t know
    about my life, and I
    think that’s okay.

    By the way, I haven’t seen Evelyn for a long time, so I’ll tag her: @evelyn

    And my good friend @h-jones should have been on here earlier, but I didn’t think of inviting her. 🙂

    Elen síla lúmenn' omentielvo

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