These Ballad Funny poems are examples of Funny poems about Ballad. These are the best examples of Ballad Funny poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
Prospector Pete had roamed the hills fer years searchin' fer gold!
He and his faithful burro, Fred, were both growin' weary and old.
He'd looked fer color in many a mountain and stream in Colorado,
Lookin' fer that mother lode, that elusive vein, his own El Dorado!
Oh, he'd found a few nuggets here and there, but didn't amount to much.
Those he did find he'd blown on gamblin', women, whiskey and such!
Pete would save a bag of dust or two from his many wanton toots,
To grubstake himself to re-supply his picks, jeans, shovels and boots.
He staked his claims along ripplin' streams and left many holes along the way.
The mountains and valleys are pocked with his many diggin's to this very day!
He'd come up dry, nothin' there, and move on to more appealin' pickin's,
Burrowin' and pannin' with elbows flyin' workin' like the dickens!
Pete would winter in his cabin 'til spring then he'd begin his annual quest,
Packin' his tools on long-sufferin' Fred and headin' fer the hills to the west.
If he didn't find that elusive bonanza this year he swore that he would retire,
To his ramshackle cabin at the foot of Mount Pisgah and enjoy the blazin' fire!
Years passed and Prospector Pete wasn't seen 'round town much anymore.
On a wintry day his friends found him froze to death upon his cabin floor!
They dug Prospector Pete's grave and buried him outside his cabin door.
Eureka! Six feet down was that vein of gold that he'd been lookin' for!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
She was a wily cigar chompin' gambler with the moniker of Poker Alice,
Renowned throughout the west for her skill in many a gamblin' palace!
Poker Alice had a good head for countin' and with her very cunnin' guile,
(Plus her beauty), she mesmerized her opponents, amassin' quite a pile!
Poker Alice worked in saloons across the west as a faro and poker dealer.
She worked in Creede, Colorado for Bob Ford, that notorious stealer!
Because of her pious rearin' as a girl, she refused to work on Sundays,
But she was back smokin' a two-dollar stogie and dealin' cards on Mondays!
She drifted to Deadwood, South Dakota, where her notoriety was well known,
And married a house painter named Tubbs who was a deft gambler on his own!
Later she established a brothel near Fort Mead Army Post with her ill-gotten gain.
The place was small and she needed funds to fix the 'house' on Pleasure Lane!
To expand and recruit 'soiled doves' from Kansas City she applied for a loan.
The banker scratched his skull sayin', "I dunno! That's a risk into the unknown!"
She convinced him notin' that The Grand Old Army had an encampment near,
And for the soldiers' bent for visitin' hog ranches, he had nothin' at all to fear!
Things didn't go well since she plumb forgot The Methodist Preachers' Convention,
Convened each and every year and she hadn't figured on that intervention!
Poker Alice's fame and notoriety followed her well beyond her wanin' years.
She died after a gall bladder operation with her 'house' payments in arrears!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 4 in Don Johnson's " Your Old Ballad Or Rhyme - Best Of All Time" Contest
While riding home after having beer, two,
a friend of ours ended up covered in poo.
He was tipsy and feeling quite queasy,
for an old man, he got drunk very easy.
In the back seat waited his wife's favorite dog,
who suddenly landed in his lap like a log.
She started to squirm and whine very strong.
Never did find out why he had taken her along.
His wife said "I think she needs to go potty".
He didn't care, he slurred rather spotty,
"I just want to go home and go to bed".
But, that pup had other ideas in her head.
Louder, the pup whined out her painful cause,
at the window she scratched with her paws.
Still there on the lap of our drunken friend,
one mile from home, he wouldn't give in.
Natural body functions, being as they are,
intensified by the rough ride in the car,
would not be held back, though she tried all she could.
Can you see where this is leading? If not, you should.
Home now in sight, the pup in a panic,
her functions cut loose, with all the organics.
Not just a mere plop of a log, but loose stool.
There our friend sat...in the car...in a pool.
Down the front of his shirt, filling the pocket,
where his cell phone resided. I ain't gonna touch it!
Covering his lap in a sticky black goo,
it even ran down his pants, into his shoe.
He wasn't allowed into his own home.
Stripped out of his clothes, the hose, he was shown.
The pup stood right there just wagging her tail,
as if to say "AHhhhh! I feel very well"
We still laugh at our friends adventure to this day.
But, when we go for pizza, from the beer he stays away.
He no longer rides with the pup in the car,
and the pup, we all panic, when she goes to fart.
Entry for "Pet Sit Panic" contest
Hosted by: Sharon Tideswell
second contest placement: 2nd
*** This is a true story. The pup was a 65 pound Golden Retriever. Think about that
for a bit.
Nuthin’, But Trouble and Texas-Tuff
But for You – Stuff’s About To Get Rough
By Now, You Should Have Had Enough
Now, Make Your Choice, Hang ‘Em High, or Cuffs ? …
… Come Out With Your Hands Us ! …
Are You That Hot-Bloodied, Heart Killer ? …
Well, You Look A Lot Like Him, Mister …
… by the way, that You Kissed Her …
You’re An Outlaw !
Beneath Stars or by Light Of The Moon
I’m Riding Fast … Will Catch Up Soon
Midnight … Will Be Our Stroke Of High Noon
I Stand-Steady … I Will Not Swoon …
… This Is Your Once In A Blue Moon ! …
… and Outlaw ! … I’m Calling You Out !
Outlaw ! … Come Out, Of Your Hide-Out !
Outlaw ! … There Is No Doubt …
… You’re My Outlaw …
Outlaw ! … I’m Bringing You In !
… You’ll Never Ride The Range Again
Outlaw ! … ‘Cause Only Then …
… You’ll Be My Outlaw … Outlaw !
You Rode Into My Town
Gunned all The Lonely Deputies Down
Blew-Up The Bank Of Trust, In Our Face …
Where, There Was Hope … Is Now Empty Space …
… Now, I Gotta Chase You ! …
Armed and Dangerous
Jesse James, Would Be Jealous
… of You – Outlaw !
You’re Outrageous …
… and You’re An Outlaw ! …
Stealing Hearts, Like They Was Gold
… Silver Bullets, Are The Lies, You Told
Just A Masked-Man, Running Away …
No Longing-Arms, Can Make You Stay
… This Is Where You Pay (Now) ! …
# 1 On Our Wanted List …
They Told Me You Never Miss ! …
… In A Duel, or A Quick Kiss …
… You’re An Outlaw !
Rustlin’ Cows and Cheating at Cards
Done Knocked Down, Many A Weak and Off-Guard
I Will Chase You Long and Hard
To Show You, How It Feels To Be Scarred …
… My Personal Reward ! …
$ 10,000.00 Reward
A Dollar, For Each Broken Heart
… Better Get A Head-Start …
Oh, I didn’t do Anything / That’s What All Outlaws Sing!
Oh, I didn’t do Anything / Then, This is Just A Real Bad Dream!
Oh, I didn’t do Anything / Stop! … Then, Where’s Her Dadgum Ring? …
You Avoid Honor, Like A Hangman’s Noose
Out There, Wild and Still Running Loose
Wanted Posters, Up On Every Wall
When They Look At It … Tears Just Fall …
… You’re A Real Quick-Draw ! …
Look At That Brim …
Cocked-Low, Like A Trigger-Rim …
… Yeah, That’s Him ! …
… It’s The Outlaw ! …
This is Showdown For Nerves-On-Edge
No More Hide-Outs; Not Another Hedge
No More Ladies, Lying On A Ledge
No More Lies, Or A Broken Pledge …
… See This Badge !!! …
I Shoot Straight From A Curve-Hip …
You Won’t Get To Give Me The Slip …
You’re Gonna Get Wild-Whipped …
Girl, I Know You’re Hurtin’ / But He Was Only Flirtin’
Luv, Stop Your Crying / Break Free From His Lying
Hon, I’m Doing You A Favor / He Ain’t Never Gonna Put No Ring On Your Finger …
He’s An Outlaw !
(Part One of Two)
The King hosted a feast,
as it was his custom,
to once a year, feed the least
blessed in his kingdom.
So the ragged came in flocks
and in the courtyard gathered,
hushed in anticipation
of, finally, a warm supper.
All the King's men guided
them, so it will be orderly
along dozen long tables
The guests then sat, food was served,
each with equal servings;
a plate of veggies, a cut of meat,
rice and corn soup steaming.
Among those who supped was
perhaps the most haughty glutton
of the millennia.
His infamy was that, amongst
vagrants, he could
eat in one meal what
normally three men took.
Though he was looked upon
as comically fat,
his life as a rat
was tragically sad.
—having no means of living
so to the King's dinner, an
invitation, he got.
Back to the feast, after servings
Jeremiah called for one of
the servers to come;
He said, 'Look at my plate,
of meat, it has none.
Only veggies, rice and soup! '
So the server gave him one.
Just then a cat with fur
shiny and black
—which, according to myth, is
the cause of bad luck—
suddenly jumped onto an
eating lady's lap,
who then shoo'ed it away;
to the table it leapt back.
Landing in chaos upon
exposing two pieces of meat
he hid under his plate;
caught red-handed, he'd only
while the King's witnessed this,
much to his chagrin.
The King then ordered Jeremiah
banished from the tables,
of controlling his anger,
he was barely able;
shocked that this tramp would
abuse his charity,
when he most wanted to
treat his guests equally.
Now this is where it's not
what truly transpired from
only just gossip;
for it was manifested that
Jeremiah was punished,
but the story that spread
was incredibly horrid
It was said that Jeremiah
was chained onto a rock
and into his mouth, food was
till he choked and gasped
and breathed his last air,
while bits and morsels trickled
down his nose and ear.
(And to confound the story
of Jeremiah's end,
after the feast, he was never
heard from again.)
Perhaps the moral is this:
we should never take advantage
should the kindness that is
shared to us we acknowledge,
lest we fall into the pit
of Jeremiah's plight
—in gluttony he lived,
in gluttony he died.
High on a hill, deep in a sea,
where it is I fall, just bury me.
Raise no stone to mark my spot
write me a ballad so I'll not be forgot.
Say I was a scallywag.
Say I was a brute.
Say I was good lookin'
in my birthday suit.
Say I loved the women,
say they loved me back.
Say my eyes were blue
and my hair was black.
Say I didn't live this long,
say I died a youth.
Write for me a ballad
it doesn't have to be the truth.
Make my ballad a joyful song
so they'll sing of me for ages long.
Remember me; name or face
write me a ballad in either case.
Say I drove the husbands
and the preachers mad.
Say I drank up all the beer,
before a drop went bad.
Say the law could not catch me,
say I ran too fast.
Say I kissed the ladies,
before I made my dash.
Say I was a rounder
and I was forever on the sly.
Write a ballad about me,
even if it is a lie.
Put my ballad to a tune
sing it from July to June.
Sing it to every drunk and bum
too drunk to sing they can only hum.
Don't say I was a gentleman.
Don't say I loved my wife..
Don't say I helped my neighbors,
almost all my life.
Don't let them know how hard I work,.
don't let them know I cry.
Don't let them know I love the Lord
until the day I die.
Don't say I went to church
or I had a heart of gold.
Don't write a ballad about me,
the truth is better told.