21 Funny Poems About Life

Enjoy these funny poems about life. There are many occasions when life is funny, some intentional and others not. You may find yourself smiling and laughing about an event or a thing during your day. As e.e.cummings said, "the most wasted day is one without laughter."

Take a few minutes from your day and bring a smile to your face by reading these funny poems. Share them with others to brighten their day.

We hope these funny poems about life give you a chuckle but also add a positive thought to your day.

Funny Poems /

- related: Funny Quotes About Life

Funny Thoughts
Poet: Nixon Waterman

It is bad to have an empty purse,
But an empty head is a whole lot worse.

Shut your mouth, and open your eyes,
And you're sure to learn something to make you wise.

Say Something Good
Poet Unknown

Pick out the folks you like the least and watch 'em for a while;
They never waste a kindly word, they never waste a smile;

They criticise their fellow men at every chance they get.
They never found a human just to suit their fancy yet.

From them I guess you'd learn some things, if they were pointed out -
Some things what every one of us should know a lot about.

When some one "knocks" a brother, pass around the loving cup -
Say something good about him even if you have to make it up.

Never Lived
Poet Unknown

There was a very cautious man
Who never laughed or played
He never risked, he never tried,
He never sang or prayed.
And when he on day passed away,
His insurance was denied,
For since he never really lived,
They claimed he never really died.

A poem that will make you smile but one that also has a message!

The Wise Man and The Fool
Poet: John McLeod

Said the wise man to the fool one day:
"I've got a hundred candles,
And lots of copper candlesticks with ornamental handles,
They cost me every cent I had
But I shall be all right,
And in the darkness of the eve I'll have a splendid light."

The fool said: "Yes, you may be wise,
But then again, p'raps not,
Only pence had I to buy, one candle's all I got,
But then, I bought some matches too
And you, the silly goose,
Bought none, and so without a light
Your candles are no use!"

The moral of the story
Is simplicity's defense
For even the buffooning clown
May have some common sense!
The wise man and the village fool,
But tell me which is which?
The one with only coppers?
Or the other very rich?

How And When
Poet Unknown

We are often greatly bothered
By two fussy little men,
Who sometimes block our pathway –
Their names are How and When.
If we have a task or duty
Which we can put off a while,
And we do not go and do it –
You should see those two rogues smile!
But there is a way to beat them,
And I will tell you how:
If you have a task or duty,
Do it well, and do it now.

don't mind being broke at all, when I can say that what I had edgar a guest

Being broke is something at one time or another that we can all relate to.
Let these amusing words remind you just to do the best you can!

On Being Broke
Poet: Edgar A. Guest

Don't mind being broke at all,
When I can say that what I had
Was spent for toys for kiddies small
And that the spending made 'em glad.
I don't regret the money gone,
If happiness it left behind.
An empty purse I'll look upon
Contented, if its record's kind.
There's no disgrace in being broke,
Unless it's due to flying high;
Though poverty is not a joke,
The only thing that counts is "why?"

The dollars come to me and go;
To-day I've eight or ten to spend;
To-morrow I'll be sailing low,
And have to lean upon a friend.
But if that little bunch of mine
Is richer by some toy or frill,
I'll face the world and never whine
Because I lack a dollar bill.
I'm satisfied, if I can see
One smile that hadn't bloomed before.
The only thing that counts with me
Is what I've spent my money for.

I might regret my sorry plight,
If selfishness brought it about;
If for the fun I had last night,
Some joy they'd have to go without.
But if I've swapped my bit of gold,
For laughter and a happier pack
Of youngsters in my little fold
I'll never wish those dollars back.
If I have traded coin for things
They needed and have left them glad,
Then being broke no sorrow brings--
I've done my best with what I had.

I wrote down my troubles every day; And after a few short years, When I turned to the heartaches passed away, I read them with smiles, not tears.

We all have heard the saying, "Life is too short, eat dessert first."
The verses here reflect that saying.

Dessert Last
Poet: Julie Hebert, © 2015

Tell me what you think,
About dessert coming last.
Once we've eaten such a big course,
There's no room for dessert’s extra mass.

Dessert is the favourite of all meals,
The one we all look forward to.
So yummy and mouth watering,
I can't bear to miss out on this too.

In life there are things that can't be done,
Or have to be put on hold.
Sometimes dessert is just like that,
Disappointment and feeling uncontrolled.

But it doesn't have to be like that.
Missing out on something good is the worst.
We all know life is too short,
So let's eat our dessert first!

we all know life is too short, so let's eat our dessert first

Have You Ever Seen
Poet Unknown

Have you ever seen a sheet on a river bed?
Or a single hair from a hammer’s head?
Has the foot of a mountain any toes?
And is there a pair of garden hose?

Does the needle ever wink its eye?
Why doesn’t the wing of a building fly?
Can you tickle the ribs of a parasol?
Or open the trunk of a tree at all?

Are the teeth of a rake ever going to bite?
Have the hands of a clock any left or right?
Can the garden plot be deep and dark?
And what is the sound of the birch’s bark?

A humorous poem written for the fishermen in your life!

Fishing Nooks
Poet: Edgar A. Guest

"Men will grow weary," said the Lord,
"Of working for their bed and board.
They'll weary of the money chase
And want to find a resting place
Where hum of wheel is never heard
And no one speaks an angry word,
And selfishness and greed and pride
And petty motives don't abide.
They'll need a place where they can go
To wash their souls as white as snow.
They will be better men and true
If they can play a day or two."

The Lord then made the brooks to flow
And fashioned rivers here below,
And many lakes; for water seems
Best suited for a mortal's dreams.
He placed about them willow trees
To catch the murmur of the breeze,
And sent the birds that sing the best
Among the foliage to nest.
He filled each pond and stream and lake
With fish for man to come and take;
Then stretched a velvet carpet deep
On which a weary soul could sleep.

It seemed to me the Good Lord knew
That man would want something to do
When worn and wearied with the stress
Of battling hard for world success.
When sick at heart of all the strife
And pettiness of daily life,
He knew he'd need, from time to time,
To cleanse himself of city grime,
And he would want some place to be
Where hate and greed he'd never see.
And so on lakes and streams and brooks
The Good Lord fashioned fishing nooks.

do not take life too seriously. You will never get out of it alive. Elbert Hubbard

For the sweet lovers in your life, read this poem and have a chuckle!

Sweets!
Poet: Julie Hebert

There is one thing that makes me happy,
And this I always indulge.
A big piece of cake and yummy cookies too,
Now watch as my stomach will bulge!

Then there are pies and pastries to savor,
Can't forget the hot cross buns.
I eat and I eat until they are gone,
This often ends up in the runs!

Now, will this addiction to sweets ever leave?
I often wonder about this question.
My health would probably hope for an answer,
My mouth is ready for the next session!

I realize there will come a day,
When sweets will not be allowed in my diet.
But until that day presents itself,
My stomach will not keep quiet!

A great short poem that relates to the saying that we are all familiar with
"all things come to him who waits".
But read the entire poem for a thought we can all relate to.

Hustle
Poet Unknown

All things come to him who waits
But that is merely stating
One feature of the case — you've got
To hustle while you're waiting.

The People Upstairs
Poet: Ogden Nash

The people upstairs all practice ballet
Their living room is a bowling alley
Their bedroom is full of conducted tours.
Their radio is louder than yours,
They celebrate week-ends all the week.
When they take a shower, your ceilings leak.
They try to get their parties to mix
By supplying their guests with Pogo sticks,
And when their fun at last abates,
They go to the bathroom on roller skates.
I might love the people upstairs more
If only they lived on another floor.

Some Men
Poet: Will Carleton

Some men were born for great things,
Some were born for small.
Some, it is not recorded
Why they were born at all.

Peas & Honey
Poet Unknown

I eat my peas with honey.
I’ve done it all my life.
It makes the peas taste funny.
But it keeps them on the knife!

Wild Flowers
Poet: Peter Newell

Of what are you afraid, my child?
Inquired the kindly teacher.
"Oh, sir! the flowers, they are wild,"
Replied the timid creature.

Not I
Poet: R. L. Stevenson

Some like drink
In a pint pot.
Some like to think.
Some not.

Strong Dutch cheese.
Old Kentucky Rye,
Some like these;
Not I.

Some like Poe,
And others like Scott;
Some like Mrs. Stowe,
Some not.

Some like to laugh.
Some like to cry.
Some like to chaff;
Not I.

Live Without
Poet: Owen Meredith

We may live without poetry, music and art;
We may live without conscience, and live without heart;
We may live without friends, we may live without books;
But civilized man cannot live without cooks.
He may live without books—what is knowledge but grieving?
He may live without hope—what is hope but deceiving?
He may live without love—what is passion but pining?
But where is the man that can live without dining

Moving
Poet: Unknown

Too many a discontented mourner
Is spending his days on Grumble Corner -
Sour and sad - whom I long to entreat
We should move to Thanksgiving Street.

Why
Poet: Unknown

Why is it that most people want
The Front seat in the bus,
The Back seat in church and
The Middle of the road?

Little Things
Poet: Unknown

It's the Little Things that bother us,
And keep us on the rack;
We can sit upon a Mountain,
But not upon a Tack.

Mr. Tongue
Poet: Unknown

My friend, Mr. Tongue
He lives in my mouth,
He's red as a rose,
And warm as the South.
He has not a foot,
But how quickly he goes,
My little friend Tongue,
As red as a rose.