Famous Short Fun Poems. Short Fun Poetry by Famous Poets. A collection of the all-time best Fun short poems
See also: Best Famous Short Poems | Short Member Poems | Best Short Member Poems
One would be in less danger
From the wiles of a stranger
If one's own kin and kith
Were more fun to be with.
The Roof it has a Lazy Time
A-Lying in the Sun;
The Walls, they have to Hold Him Up;
They do Not Have Much Fun!
He who is ridden by a conscience
Worries about a lot of nonscience;
He without benefit of scruples
His fun and income soon quadruples.
There was an Old Derry down Derry, who loved to see little folks merry;So he made them a Book, and with laughter they shook At the fun of that Derry down Derry.
A combination is
Of Crickets -- Crows -- and Retrospects
And a dissembling Breeze
That hints without assuming --
An Innuendo sear
That makes the Heart put up its Fun
And turn Philosopher.
Woman wants monogamy;
Man delights in novelty.
Love is woman's moon and sun;
Man has other forms of fun.
Woman lives but in her lord;
Count to ten, and man is bored.
With this the gist and sum of it,
What earthly good can come of it?
Once I was sailing for fun
On a lake of great allure,
Like gold the sun shone so pure,
And my soul more than the sun.
Then suddenly I could smell
Before I saw at my feet,
A foul fish, with death replete,
At the bottom of the well
If I don't drive around the park,
I'm pretty sure to make my mark.
If I'm in bed each night by ten,
I may get back my looks again,
If I abstain from fun and such,
I'll probably amount to much,
But I shall stay the way I am,
Because I do not give a damn.
Now that i'm grown
i got my mind on
don't wanna be
out there doin nothing trying
to maintain in this dirty game
keep it real and I
will even kill me
my young niggaz
stay away from
these dumb niggaz
put down the guns
and have some fun nigga.
Some people forget that love is
tucking you in and kissing you
no matter how young or old you are
Some people don't remember that
listening and laughing and asking
no matter what your age
Few recognize that love is
no fun at all
You and me
Life through my bloodshot eyes
would scare a square 2 death
and never a moment 2 rest
Fun and games are few
but treasured like gold 2 me
cuz I realize that I must return
2 my spot in poverty
But mock my words when I say
my heart will not exist
unless my destiny comes through
and puts an end 2 all of this
HERE in a cage the dollars come down.
To the click of a tube the dollars tumble.
And out of a mouth the dollars run.
I finger the dollars,
Paper and silver,
Thousands a day.
Some days it’s fun
to finger the dollars.
the dollars keep on
in a sob or a whisper:
A flame of rose in the hair,
A flame of silk at the throat.
English Teeth, English Teeth!
Shining in the sun
A part of British heritage
Aye, each and every one.
English Teeth, Happy Teeth!
Always having fun
Clamping down on bits of fish
And sausages half done.
English Teeth! HEROES' Teeth!
Hear them click! and clack!
Let's sing a song of praise to them -
Three Cheers for the Brown Grey and Black.
If I had a shiny gun,
I could have a world of fun
Speeding bullets through the brains
Of the folk who give me pains;
Or had I some poison gas,
I could make the moments pass
Bumping off a number of
People whom I do not love.
But I have no lethal weapon-
Thus does Fate our pleasure step on!
So they still are quick and well
Who should be, by rights, in hell.
Once on a time I fair Dorinda kiss'd,
Whose nose was too distinguish'd to be miss'd;
My dear, says I, I fain would kiss you closer,
But tho' your lips say aye--your nose says, no, Sir.--
The maid was equally to fun inclin'd,
And plac'd her lovely lily-hand behind;
Here, swain, she cry'd, may'st thou securely kiss,
Where there's no nose to interrupt thy bliss.
I know that He exists.
Somewhere -- in Silence --
He has hid his rare life
From our gross eyes.
'Tis an instant's play.
'Tis a fond Ambush --
Just to make Bliss
Earn her own surprise!
But -- should the play
Prove piercing earnest --
Should the glee -- glaze --
In Death's -- stiff -- stare --
Would not the fun
Look too expensive!
Would not the jest --
Have crawled too far!
She lay as if at play
Her life had leaped away --
Intending to return --
But not so soon --
Her merry Arms, half dropt --
As if for lull of sport --
An instant had forgot --
The Trick to start --
Her dancing Eyes -- ajar --
As if their Owner were
Still sparkling through
For fun -- at you --
Her Morning at the door --
Devising, I am sure --
To force her sleep --
So light -- so deep --
ONE Queen Artemisia, as old stories tell,
When deprived of her husband she loved so well,
In respect for the love and affection he show’d her,
She reduc’d him to dust and she drank up the powder.
But Queen Netherplace, of a diff’rent complexion,
When called on to order the fun’ral direction,
Would have eat her dead lord, on a slender pretence,
Not to show her respect, but—to save the expense!
the red man says hello
the green tree says i'm here
all grown-ups are sleeping
only the children hear
decorations are delighted
presents hug the floor
the room in its festive hat
hides behind the door
through the glittering day
two worlds split the one
grown-ups lose their tempers
children have the fun
the red man says goodbye
the green tree says next year
grown ups are exhausted
only the children hear
The people upstairs all practise 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.
I have seen you, little mouse,Running all about the house,Through the hole your little eyeIn the wainscot peeping sly,Hoping soon some crumbs to steal,To make quite a hearty meal.Look before you venture out,See if pussy is about.If she's gone, you'll quickly runTo the larder for some fun;Round about the dishes creep,Taking into each a peep,To choose the daintiest that's there,Spoiling things you do not care.
Naughty little speckled trout,
Can't I coax you to come out?
Is it such great fun to play
In the water every day?
Do you pull the Naiads' hair
Hiding in the lilies there?
Do you hunt for fishes' eggs,
Or watch tadpoles grow their legs?
Do the little trouts have school
In some deep sun-glinted pool,
And in recess play at tag
Round that bed of purple flag?
I have tried so hard to catch you,
Hours and hours I've sat to watch you;
But you never will come out,
Naughty little speckled trout!
I wrung my hands under my dark veil. . .
"Why are you pale, what makes you reckless?"
-- Because I have made my loved one drunk
with an astringent sadness.
I'll never forget. He went out, reeling;
his mouth was twisted, desolate. . .
I ran downstairs, not touching the banisters,
and followed him as far as the gate.
And shouted, choking: "I meant it all
in fun. Don't leave me, or I'll die of pain."
He smiled at me -- oh so calmly, terribly --
and said: "Why don't you get out of the rain?"