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Best Famous Parody Poems

Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Parody poems. This is a select list of the best famous Parody poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Parody poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of parody poems.

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by G K Chesterton | |

The Donkey

 When forests walked and fishes flew 
And figs grew upon thorn, 
Some moment when the moon was blood, 
Then, surely, I was born.
With monstrous head and sickening bray And ears like errant wings— The devil's walking parody Of all four-footed things: The battered outlaw of the earth Of ancient crooked will; Scourge, beat, deride me—I am dumb— I keep my secret still.
Fools! For I also had my hour— One far fierce hour and sweet: There was a shout around my head And palms about my feet.


by Oliver Wendell Holmes | |

A Parody on “A Psalm of Life”

 Life is real, life is earnest, 
And the shell is not its pen –
“Egg thou art, and egg remainest”
Was not spoken of the hen.
Art is long and Time is fleeting, Be our bills then sharpened well, And not like muffled drums be beating On the inside of the shell.
In the world’s broad field of battle, In the great barnyard of life, Be not like those lazy cattle! Be a rooster in the strife! Lives of roosters all remind us, We can make our lives sublime, And when roasted, leave behind us, Hen tracks on the sands of time.
Hen tracks that perhaps another Chicken drooping in the rain, Some forlorn and henpecked brother, When he sees, shall crow again.


by A E Housman | |

O Why Do You Walk (a Parody)

 O why do you walk through the fields in boots,
Missing so much and so much?
O fat white woman whom nobody shoots,
Why do you walk through the fields in boots,
When the grass is soft as the breast of coots
And shivering-sweet to the touch?


by Philip Levine | |

Berenda Slough

 Earth and water without form, 
change, or pause: as if the third 
day had not come, this calm norm 
of chaos denies the Word.
One sees only a surface pocked with rushes, the starved clumps pressed between water and space -- rootless, perennial stumps fixed in position, entombed in nothing; it is too late to bring forth branches, to bloom or die, only the long wait lies ahead, a parody of perfection.
Who denies this is creation, this sea constant before the stunned eye's insatiable gaze, shall find nothing he can comprehend.
Here the mind beholds the mind as it shall be in the end.


by Ezra Pound | |

Ancient Music

 Winter is icummen in, 
Lhude sing Goddamm.
Raineth drop and staineth slop, And how the wind doth ramm! Sing: Goddamm.
Skiddeth bus and sloppeth us, An ague hath my ham.
Freezeth river, turneth liver, Damn you, sing: Goddamm.
Goddamm, Goddamm, 'tis why I am, Goddamm, So 'gainst the winter's balm.
Sing goddamm, damm, sing Goddamm.
Sing goddamm, sing goddamm, DAMM.
A parody of the Anglo-Saxon poem, Cuckoo Song