Bring a smile to your face with our collection of funny poems. Need a break, stop and read a humorous poem. A smile, a laugh can change your perspective on things.
poems with others who could use a smile in their day!
Somebody's got to be steady
And stick at a regular job,
Somebody's got to be ready
To stay with the laboring mob.
Somebody's got to be trudging
The path from the house to the mill,
Somebody's got to be drudging
At work that has never a thrill.
Every one cannot be left to roam
Careless and blithe and free,
Somebody's got to stay at home,
Somebody Else — not me!
Poet: Berton Braley
We are made of dust, so the preachers say,
And we only live for a little day,
And then, regardless of wealth or fame,
Return to the dirt from whence we came.
However we live, at last we go
Into the dust that the breezes blow.
Ah well, drink up! let us never fret,
If we keep our gullets extremely wet
Our dust may prove so damp to touch
That the wind can't blow us about so much!
Poet: Gelett Burgess
My feet, they haul me Round the House,
They Hoist me up the Stairs;
I only have to Steer them and
They Ride me Everywheres.
Keep Your Marriage Brimming
Poet: Ogden Nash
To keep your marriage brimming
With love in the loving cup,
Whenever you’re wrong, admit it;
Whenever you’re right, shut up.
Do You Carrot All for Me?
Do you carrot all for me?
My heart beets for you,
With your turnip nose
And your radish face,
You are a peach.
If we cantaloupe,
Weed make a swell pear.
Poet: Robert Louis Stevenson
I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me,
And what can be the use of him is more than I can see.
He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head;
And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my bed.
The funniest thing about him is the way he likes to grow -
Not at all like proper children, which is always very slow;
For he sometimes shoots up taller like an india-rubber ball,
And he sometimes gets so little that there’s none of him at all.
Poet: Henry S. Leigh
In form and feature, face and limb,
I grew so like my brother.
That folks got taking me for him.
And each for one another.
It puzzled all our kith and kin.
It reached an awful pitch;
For one of us was bom a twin,
Yet not a soul knew which.
One day (to make the matter worse).
Before our names were fix'd.
As we were being wash'd by nurse
We got completely mix'd;
And thus, you see, by Fate's decree,
(Or rather nurse's whim),
My brother John got christen'd me,
And I got christen'd him.
This fatal likeness even dogg'd
My footsteps when at school,
And I was always getting flogg'd,
For John turned out a fool.
I put this question hopelessly
To every one I knew —
What would you do, if you were me,
To prove that you were you?
Our close resemblance turn'd the tide
Of my domestic life;
For somehow my intended bride
Became my brother's wife.
In short, year after year the same
Absurd mistakes went on;
And when I died — the neighbors came
And buried brother John!
Poet: Mortimer Collins
O cool in the summer is salad,
And warm in the winter is love;
And a poet shall sing you a ballad
Delicious thereon and thereof.
A singer am I, if no sinner,
My muse has a marvellous wing,
And I willingly worship at dinner
The Sirens of Spring.
Take endive — like love it is bitter.
Take beet — for like love it is red;
Crisp leaf of the lettuce shall glitter,
And cress from the rivulet's bed;
Anchovies, foam-born, like the lady
Whose beauty has maddened this bard;
And olives, from groves that are shady;
And eggs — boil 'em hard.
The Height Of The Ridiculous
Poet: Oliver Wendell Holmes
I wrote some lines once on a time.
In wondrous merry mood.
And thought, as usual, men would say
They were exceeding good.
They were so queer, so very queer,
I laughed as I would die;
Albeit, in the general way,
A sober man am I.
I called my servant, and he came;
How kind it was of him.
To mind a slender man like me.
He of the mighty limb!
"These to the printer," I exclaimed,
And, in my humorous way,
I added (as a trifling jest),
"There'll be the devil to pay.'
He took the paper, and I watched,
And saw him peep within;
At the first line he read, his face
Was all upon the grin.
He read the next; the grin grew broad,
And shot from ear to ear;
He read the third; a chuckling noise
I now began to hear.
The fourth; he broke into a roar;
The fifth; his waistband split ;
The sixth; he burst five buttons off.
And tumbled in a fit.
Ten days and nights, with sleepless eye,
I watched that wretched man.
And since, I never dare to write
As funny as I can.
Poet: John Boyle O'Reilly
"You gave me the key of your heart, my love;
Then why do you make me knock?"
"Oh, that was yesterday, Saints above!
And last night — I changed the lock!"
We have a secret, just we three,
The robin, and I, and the sweet cherry tree;
The bird told the tree, and the tree told me,
And nobody knows it but just us three.
But of course the robin knows it best,
Because he built the — I shan't tell the rest;
And laid the four little — somethings in it —
I am afraid I shall tell it every minute.
But if the tree and the robin don't peep,
I'll try my best the secret to keep;
Though I know when the little birds fly about,
Then the whole secret will be out.