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Funny Tribute Poems | Funny Poems About Tribute

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Details | Verse | |

Enigma's Calling

Extraordinary, I am 
Craving for unusual thoughts
Endless exploration without boundary
Understanding  the gift I shouldn't fought
 
Invisible drawings in my mind
Playing with the words in my head
My passion
The food of my soul
 
I feel so lucky
The random thoughts
A lifetime companion
A self esteem builder
A goal planner
Be my forever life saver
 
I write more
I talk less
I want to please
I chose to bore
 
What tickles me the most
Is to know what I'm for
Thinking is my love
When  my mind goes empty
That's when I hate
 
My day dreaming lust
Organizing things in my mind
Playing roles of simulation
Where images of art is my vision
And words of attitude is my heart


Details | List | |

I love

I love your soft kisses.I love firm but gentle touch.  I love the way you bite your lip.I love you soooooo much.
 I love the way you look at me.I love the way you smile.  I love the way you're shy sometimes,Every once and a while.
 I love it when you look at me, When I'm not looking at you.  You think I do not realize it, But really...I do.
 I love the way you cuddle. I love the way you sleep.  I love how you bite your lip when something turns you on. I love the way you rub your neck,when you are thinking so deep.
I love all of you,Your nose, your lips, your hair, even your smelly feet.  I love how you drink Dr Pepper. Morning noon and night.  I love how if someone puts me down your always there first one there ready to fight.  I will never stop loving you. You are so amazingly sweet.
 I love that I love you.I have loved you from the very start.  I LOVE ALL OF YOU,You alone hold the key to my heart.


Details | Pantoum | |

Hip Hip Hurray-Debbie's Birthday


Debbie's birthday Hip Hip Hurray, all ku no play National ku day! Hip Hip Hurray gift some haiku, National ku day I write,you too! Gift some haiku chocolate no more, I write you too one,two,three,four! Chocolate no more cake of haiku, one,two,three,four haiku in a queue! Cake of haiku mind your syllables, haiku in a queue how many candles? Mind your syllables not less not more, how many candles behind the back door:) Not less not more must be perfect, behind the back door dump all mistakes! Must be perfect all ku no play, dump all mistakes Debbie's birthday!! © kash poet ============000============= *Wish You a Very Very Happy Birthday Debi. Placement:1st; (September 2012) Contest: It's My Birthday Sponsor:Debbie Guzzi =============000=============


Details | List | |

Rules in the eyes of a toddler

If it is off, I must turn it on.
If it is on, I must turn it off.
If it is folded, I must unfold it.
If it is a liquid, it must be shaken, then spilled.
If it a solid, it must be crumbled, chewed, stepped on or smeared.
If it is high, it must be reached.
If it is shelved, it must be unshelved.
If it is pointed, it must be run with at top speed.
If it has leaves, they must be picked.
If it is plugged, it must be unplugged.
If it is not trash, it must be thrown away.
If it is in the trash, it must be removed, inspected, and thrown on the floor.
If it is closed, it must be opened.
If it does not open, it must be screamed at.
If it has drawers, they must be rifled.
If it is a pencil, it must write on the refrigerator, monitor, or table.
If it is full, it will be more interesting emptied.
If it is empty, it will be more interesting full.
If it is a pile of dirt, it must be laid upon.
If it is stroller, it must under no circumstances be ridden in without protest. It must be pushed by me instead.
If it has a flat surface, it must be banged upon.
If Mommy's hands are full, I must be carried.
If Mommy is in a hurry and wants to carry me, I must walk alone.
If it is paper, it must be torn.
If it has buttons, they must be pressed.
If the volume is low, it must go high.
If it is toilet paper, it must be unrolled on the floor.
If it is a drawer, it must be pulled upon.
If it is a toothbrush, it must be inserted into my mouth.
If it has a faucet, it must be turned on at full force.
If it is a phone, I must talk to it.
If it is a bug, it must be swallowed.
If it doesn't stay on my spoon, it must be dropped on the floor.
If it is not food, it must be tasted.
If it IS food, it must not be tasted.
If it is dry, it must be made wet with drool, milk, or toilet water.
If it is a car seat, it must be protested with arched back.
If it is Mommy, must make her dirty
If it is sibling, must slap,kick,and fight.
If it has four legs, must squeeze tight until makes noise
If big person is on phone, must make lots of noise
If tv is not on cartoons, scream until they are
If food is not good, throw it, refuse to eat it and cry until big people give you something good


Details | Bio | |

Solitude: To Yoda, An Ode

Green bark a prism creates,
Feel the pull of earth, you must.

Rotates, a slime of endless hates,
Can hold me not, this world’s crust.

Friendship’s ties, isolation Deflates,
Succumbs, my spaceship, to bitter rust.

Mist, my soul forever permeates,
Lift-off, booms the rocket’s thrust.

My spirit when light returns, elates,
Swamps swell, swallowed hope’s swirling dust.

Trapped, I am, until student from fate
Arrives to learn; Cloud City or bust.


Details | Rhyme | |

Her Sense of Humor

A slight hint of consternation was in her voice,
“Why did you tell those people I’m deaf and dumb?”
“I never said you were deaf, my Dear.”
She laughed, but I kinda felt like a bum.

Hell.  It was just a joke.

One evening, she asked, “Will you love me if I get chubby?”
I responded, “Of course I still love you.
It would take much more than pounds and cellulite
To make me fall out of love…it’s true.”

Hell.  It was just a joke.

“Would you remarry if I die before you?” she asked.
I said, “No…probably not…I’ve been spoiled by you.”
“But you’ve been a great husband. I think you should.”
“Whatever happens, happens is the best I can do.”

“If you remarried, would you play golf with your new wife?
And would you let her use my clubs?” she demanded.  
I calmly smiled and said, “Your clubs are safe.
You see, my Dear…she’s left handed.”

Hell.  It was just a joke.

Then, she whined and whined about her butt.
I responded, “Want to knock some inches off that ass?
It may sound strange, but I heard it works….
Rinse all your panties in Slim Fast.”

Hell. It was just a joke.


The next day, I readied for work, took ‘undies’ from my drawer.
They were engulfed in a fog of white, why I didn’t know.
So, I asked, “Honey! Why did you put talcum powder on my shorts?”
She slyly smiled, “That’s not talcum powder.  That’s Miracle Gro.”

Hell.  It was just a joke....I guess.

So, what is my wife’s most endearing feature?
Her sense of humor.... there’s no doubt.
Always a smile where angst or anger might have been,
A smile I never want to be without.



Details | Light Poetry | |

Programmers Paradise

Hubby was talking about the job he was at: when he suddenly…
Got into the ‘Computer Programmers Mode’. Where absolutely…
Everything became ‘DITS & DOTS, and DARS & FARS’…
No more caffeine for Hubby any time this week, at home!

This lingo of his, only belongs at work, where he IS an Uber Geek.
But here at home… you gotta know… he’s only talking to me!
It must be like the dreams he has, with reams and reams of code.
And tables of papers are stacked to the ceiling, or maybe to his nose.

It’s an APP-APP here, and an APP-APP there, to tie the Data to his code.
Make it go faster! Make it go smarter! In his own little world, you know.
His eyes have glazed, as his fingers flash over his fancy keyboard at home.
If only me, his little old wifey- poo, could get such attention as this, to know.

At least, he keeps my computers running, like crazy, and way up to snuff!
Now if only he’d give me the time of day… to get my own work done.
With a type-type here, and a type-type there: I definitely blow his mind.
He’d fix my typing, if only he could, with a new app, well designed.

The ‘Trouble with Tribbles’ is nothing, as when confronting an Uber Geek.
Microsoft falls into a hush, as they whisper out his name and fame complete.
For Halloween, he hooks up electronics, with apps to animated programming…
Never Fear! Hubby’s here! Next, the Turkey will be clucking binary coding.

He made Santa a GPS, which goes to mars and beyond: It’s simply otherworldly.
But now he’s talking in binary code… I hope Hubby’ll land home, soon, surely.
For with DITs & DOTS, and DARS & FARS it’s getting way past midnight.
I know he’ll be back to earth soon, tho, for it’s time to say goodnight!
 


Details | Lyric | |

Viagra and Beer

Too much Viagra and beer.
Too much Viagra and beer.
My wife was out of town,
I hit every club around.
Each time I'd hope to find
A horny woman here.

Country Bob's was the last club that was open.
Near blind drunk and horny, but I was still hopin'.
A pretty woman gave me a glance,
Smiled and said, "Nice pants.
Honey, I'm ridin' if you're ropin'."

A few hours later, I was in a Helluva mess
She's still ridin' hard and screamin', "God, this is the best!"
I was dizzy and light-headed. I had pains in my chest,
But she wouldn't stop long enough to call EMS.

When I came to, I was home in my own bed,
Next to my lovely wife; and this is what she said:
"I picked you up at Country Bob's, my dear;
And there's gonna be some changes around here.

You were fantastic last night;
So, I only think its right
If I supplement your diet 
With Viagra and beer."

Viagra and beer. Viagra and beer.
She treats me like a king,
Says I make her body sing;
So, I'm happy on my diet of Viagra and beer.

Yes, I'm happy on my diet of Viagra and beer.


Submitted by: Buzz O'Words
Written: 3/3/14


Details | Clerihew | |

Not, yet

I dreamt myself as poet-frog
And good Fancy` Fairy
Would stoop to pick my verse…
But she didn`t come.


Details | Ode | |

Love feast

Love feast             by Steven Hudson

I have looked upon too many scarred, sullen and hard faces these many days.
Loud, crude, gruff men who take and push and fight.
This ship has run its course, sleepless, tossed about,
Every port and harbor, sea and foreign land.
My companions smell and to look at them would make you turn down.
I’m pretty sure I have a tapeworm and my piss is the wrong color.
So my love, when here at last I see your face,
You’re smile, piercing eyes, and silky long hair,
To gaze at you now is a love feast to behold,
And from now and forever you will always be…..
The most captivating golden retriever I have ever seen.


Details | Ballade | |

The archer of laughter Sagittarius

The Archer of laughter
[Sagittarius]

He needs to know; not trivia
But all those deeper things
Needs a higher education
He wants his life to bring
All the answers big and vast
He wants to travel too
Cause he has heaps of energy
He loves to do things new.

He cannot handle boredom
He must be on the go
If not in the physical
Then he will have to know
Everything about anything
He’s a philosopher, this too
He loves to have his high ideals
And he’ll always say what’s true.

But most of all he loves to laugh
To him life be a game
He doesn’t do traditional
And he don’t like things the same
He can be over bearing
But you’ll like him anyway
Though he will really pee you off
When he has too much to say.

1 August 2013 @ 0727hrs.


Details | Limerick | |

Economics 101

One to the next is its mother
Each fiscal cliff breeds another
There's no golden goose
Oh brother, this chain noose
Causes all commerce to smother

Kick debt ceiling blues in the groin
With Ponzi whose scheme we should join
He's someone now dead
For the platinum head
Of a trillion buck magic act coin


Details | Rhyme | |

HOW DID THAT MAN GET INTO MY BED

            HOW DID THAT MAN GET INTO MY BED?
                           

                       Lord Gravity , 
                           the king of kings
                           through" hands on" science
                           Taught me things--                                                      
                           From plopping 
                                         apples on my head
                           To plopping men
                                         Upon my bed.

Victoria Anderson-Throop 2013


Details | Lyric | |

In The Spotlight

Let the spotlight shine
And let the music out
Don't waste no time
I need to dance about

Singer in the spotlight
Giving his songs away
Makin' life feel just right
At least just for today

Float me off from here
I need to see the sunlight
Maybe I'm not clear
I need to get my head right

Help me out this time
Play my favorite song
Even out of time
You can't get it wrong

Singer in the spotlight
A million miles away
Makin' life feel just right
Can I hear him play

That's the very one
I can float away
Even when it's done 
Another one should play

Don't take that bow
Don't go away
Do you have to leave now
We all want to play

Singer in the spotlight
Let us hear you play
Makin' life feel just right
Oh please won't you stay

The show goes down the road
May be back one day
Pay the bills I owed
Put some cash away

And when they come back 'round
Well you never can say
If my money's sound
Could be on my way

Singer in the spotlight
With his band at play
Makin' life feel just right
Never go away


Details | Limerick | |

To Our Resident Mr Funny Poet Jack

Jack’s the name of our friend
With him, a joke has no end
He writes about “shit”
Gives poor folks a fit
Drives Soupers over the bend!

His wisdom’s coupled with fun
Guffaws you’ll get on the run
Nutso’s and derriers
Hogs and teddy bears
But where’s Attila the HUN!?

You’ve asked that things be kept light
What of us lost in the night?
We all need to vent
Emotions to spend
Or we're in a sorry plight!

But we need poets like you
To show us funny things too
So don’t you dare stop
This kangaroo hop
Of funny writes, oh so new!

Eileen Manassian Ghali


Details | Epic | |

Mr wiggles the stuffed punk pig

Mr. Wiggles the stuffed “punk pig” , he wasn’t always this way. Before the safety pins in his little nose and “Dead Kennedy’s” patch on his soft, fuzzy, pink back, he was a loving, clean, attractive piggy who was afraid of the dark. He sewed black and red string into his adorable little ear because he thought it would make him look like a rebel pig, then he got experimental with sharpie, permanently drawing stitches on his non-existing lips all because of the music he flooded into his head. Then after the piercings, he got into tattoos. He has a black and red “C” on his chest and a black dotted “C”  with a little black heart on his hip. It’s pretty sexy huh? He got it for someone but that someone loved another.  He has big, child like  eyes that can mesmerize you. They aren’t blue or green or even brown, They are black eyes that just stare deeply into you. He is also very small, not like the other kids. He used to get beat up when he was a little piglet, Maybe that’s why he tries to be all tough now. He’s a bubble gum pink, maybe that was a factor in him getting beat up by all the other farm animals so much. He had low self esteem and a eating disorder, that's why he is so skinny for a grown man piggy. He hated the way he looked, he was ashamed for being born a pig because they have such bad reputations of being dirty, sloppy, and lazy. He didn't like his feet most of all because they were ugly and gross, pig feet are the definition of this but his are abnormal they were disfigured and very, very pink, not like the other animals with smooth hooves or webbed feets. His are piggies feet that no one will end up ever eating. They look like something Ariel would collect under the sea. Mr. Wiggles wasn’t always a bad piggy, under his thick, fuzzy skin he is soft and plushy pig. One thing that never changed is that he loves affection such as hugs, they are comforting and secure. He smells like a warm breeze and something sugary. He may act tough but there is much, much more then meets the eye.


Details | Ode | |

That Crazy Old Doctor

There've been times in my life
 where I've just had to say,
 "I must, give it all up,
 for, it's that kind of day"!
 
I must, really say this
 I really, just must;
 if I didn't say it,
 then, it wouldn't be, "just".
 
There's this crazy, old man
 we'll just call him, "Doc";
 who fills up blank pages
 with, "poetical talk".
 
He's scribbled, and scrabbled
 'til way, past bed-time,
 trying to finish each poem
 and, complete every rhyme.
 
If he hadn't done this
 he'd surely gone, "mad",
 his nonsensical nature
 was, all that he had!
 
No hidden agenda
 when first, he wrote down,
 each poem of nonsense
 to erase a childs' frown.
 
And, Doc always did this
 manipulate, "clues"...
 ..so that , all of his poems
 were merely geared, to amuse.
 
He loved to let nonsense
 be the order of the day,
 and, with every poem
 we all smiled, the same way.
 
His only intention
 was to set our minds, "free",
 his style, just did it
 so, poetically.
 
With his own tongue, in cheek
we knew we'd been had,
and his poems rhymed perfectly
proving he was no, "fad"!




The volumes of topics
 that Doc's written of,
 included all that could be
 written.....below, and above.
 
He's written of magic,
 puzzles, and games...
 ..with, strange little creatures,
 with, strange little, "names".
 
The, crazier his story,
 the saner he'd feel,
 and, the more that we heard
 convinced us they were, "real"!
 
His poems, were genius
 as he weaved us, a tale;
 with, nonsensical rhymes
 that did so, without..."fail".
 
"Old Doc", has quit writing
 he's up in heaven,
 this year, his birthday'd ...
 make him, a hundred, and seven!
 
He's given advice,
 taught what we must do,
 he said, "Be who you are...
 ..no-one's youer, than....you!"
 
He's maybe still writing
 in, heaven....you see,
 that'd be just like him
 as, that's who he must, be!
 
That, silly old doctor...
 ..as silly, as a goose;
 we all loved his poems,
 for, we loved Dr. Seuss!
 


Details | Sonnet | |

The Broken Girl-not me

Is my life not tortured enough for you to see? 
I am broken as can be. 
My heart is torn. 
My tears stain these perfect floors.  
Why are singing with glee? 
Why do you not care about my every plea? 
I am trapped in your arms. 
I am the hopeless moth. 
How did you pick me? 
What is it that you see? 
A girl untouched by life? 
A flower blooming in the desert? 
I have said goodbye to my loving integrity.  
You took that from me through R-A-P-E.


Details | Light Poetry | |

My Big Brother Is Watching You Too

"My Big Brother" up and down the street
  He could be anyone you meet
  Spying on you from the street
  Looking in from every beat
"My Big Brother" isn't that sweet

"My Big Brother" and I don't know why
  Casting in from above the sky
"My Big Brother" the commie spy
  Listening in do or die
  Bringing his book in
  Taught within
My Big Brother, 1-800-LET-US IN
  Caught with paper and a pen 
All because, "My Big Brother" let himself in


Details | Free verse | |

Moulting - for you

the next is like the first
equally shedding more skin
you do that again and again 
and I known each time 
you look at me 
we are transformed

and so we take each step
each page is torn away
a day, a week, a month
eternity in our eyes

this time with you 
like a wave that never breaks
a swell in the heart of the ocean

where the two race, play, swim

we are
the ones we see

in the next moment the sun rolls by
you lighten up the room
again a mirror 

to the little pools of mystery 
spilling out around you
giving up the secret

moulting in the broad day light


Details | Haiku | |

CATS ARE CUTE

(TRIPLE HAIKU in fact...)

Awww...cats are so cute!
Rubbing against my 2 legs
Adoriddible! 

I head to my room
They watch me like a shepherd
My sheep follow me!

My little buddy
Follows me into bathroom 
Hope she turns her head


Details | Rhyme | |

Bialystok and Bloom

Investors don’t have to be paid if a flop of a Broadway musical is made. That was the thought of producer Max Bialystok. His philosophy was obviously a big crock. Max resorted to fund raising activities that were shady. He conned and cheated many an old lady. He and accountant Leo Bloom made a team. To make money producing a failure was their dream. “Springtime for Hitler” was a play they would choose. They were so certain this production would lose. To their shocking surprise, the musical was a success. Can you imagine the amount of resulting distress? Does this sound like a movie you would like to see? Go out today and rent the DVD. Based on the 1968 film “The Producers”


Details | Free verse | |

Nice Catch

I don't know you but

We share the same name
We love the same game 

Nice catch ;)


Details | Rhyme | |

At a loss for Lego's

My words are like legos, 
scattered all over the floor. 
All colorful shapes and sizes
different combinations to explore.

 I’m like a poor lego man,
With his head on backwards.
I remove my head and search it,
In desperation when I lack words.

Because my words are like legos
and sometimes they’re hard to find.
Missing pieces  in the dark,
the little crevices of my mind.

My words are like messy legos,
like a castle that’s been broken. 
Being rebuilt piece by piece, 
With every word that’s spoken.
 
So I’ll gather all my legos,
and I’ll build a castle too!
I’ll use all my beautiful legos,
I would build it just for you. 

But you came and stole my lego's,
You swooped them off the ground.
I tried to tell you my secret, 
But I couldn’t make a sound.

Why did you take my legos?
That wasn’t part of the deal. 
Please just give them back, 
So I can tell you how I feel.