These Confusion Funny poems are examples of Funny poems about Confusion. These are the best examples of Confusion Funny poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
So I walked into my local supermarket
to buy my weekly shipment of Kit Kat bars,
Cinnamon Toast Crunch,
and Ovaltine powder mix.
As I shake off the snow on my fake Timberland boots,
coated in frozen animation,
thaws into warmth’s teardrops from
the supermarket’s 75 degree vents.
This moist sense of happiness was quickly interrupted
when I heard Wilson Phillips, “Hold On”
over the PA system.
Thankfully, the cutlery isle was just to my left.
So, now, I had plans!
But, before I could commit felony’s song,
I saw her.
A Portuguese goddess
with a strut that can ruin a man’s dignity.
She had Autobahn curves,
dark brown curls of hair & visuals,
and thick flesh meat that even Vegans would envy.
Her face lacked Maybelline coated misapprehension.
Cause I never did like clowns.
After staring longingly at her,
like a crack head with impulsive eyes upon a broken/unlabeled bag of baby powder,
she breezed past my stifled posture and clocked in to work.
She didn’t even get a chance to smell my $500 cologne called “Piece of Me”.
So with new-found urges to grab all my groceries,
like a burglar who really has to pee,
I rush to express checkout.
There she is.
Her register beeps in coupon lady’s rhapsody,
while my register needs a cleanup on Isle 9.
Now it’s my turn.
With girlish inner-screams of boy-band intensity,
I say, “Hi”.
She scans my apples, while I scan her melons.
The melons that the customer ahead of me didn’t want…
…they were on sale.
As if she read my mind,
“Are you feeling warm now?”
“All I want is to be the heat in your moment”,
which I almost said.
But, “Now I am”, is uttered.
As she smiled with seductive demure,
she handed me my receipt
with her phone number on back.
As I left the market,
I began to get cold again.
These winds of change
became gusts of numbness.
I locked myself out of my heart.
I turned around to go back inside.
Only to discover,
she didn’t have the key.
© Drake J. Eszes
Madness, the Hatter blinks.
Madness, Oz's link.
Repercussions of concussions.
Madness was Portnoy's complaint**,
Madness must reciprocate!
Hallucinations filter by....
Leary* winks at Dali's eye.
A house lands on Dorothy's thighs...
Chicken Little wanders by.
"Madness," Hitler's honcho’s sneer.
Madness splices genes with fear.
"Lobotomize!" becomes the cheer.
Kellogg’s* enema's find waiting rears.
"Are you the ass? Or is it me?
Have I ears and a nose? What do you see?"
"Hehawww," said Pinocchio's friends.
"Heeehaw," said Darwin* back again.
Round and round went Steven Hawkings*.
"Madness," said Lenore's raven* squawking.
"Madness," said Einstein* in a blink.
"Reciprocate!," said the missing link.
Reference Poem Knock Knock by The Archaic Poet - topic madness
* Art by Salvador Dali
* Portnoy's Complaint by Phillip Roth states
if you know you are crazy than you must be sane.
* Timothy Leary explored LSD and other hallucinogenic drugs.
* Kellog [of cereal fame] proposed enema's as the cure to
all health ills, plus loads of sex!
* Darwin proposed man evolved from apes.
* Edgar Allen Poe was mad when he wrote The Raven.
* Einstein had aspergers syndrome a type of
* Steven Hawkings is a wheelchair bound scientist who autism.
extrapolates on the edge of mathematical reality.
There are things I don't understand
And would really like to know
Such as why they call it rush hour
And you move so freakin' slow
How come you get a learner's permit
To get a license to drive a car
But they don't give one for a marriage license
Now I think that's going too far
Why do they put deer crossing signs up
Do you believe there is really any need
In all my years of driving
I've never met a single deer who can read
I was reading a map in the park
And it definitely astonished me so
It had a red X that said you are here
And I was wondering how they know.
* LIBRA TALE
Sweet and Sour hectic sign
Love me, trust me, stars align
Balance of truth and dare
Good and Evil, full of care
Blind when it comes to blood line.
Simple Mathematics, really.
To eliminate one component
To solve a problem quickly.
I’ll form the problem into a manageable state,
By easily eliminating an unwanted variable.
Now, just what variable to eliminate?
First, I will multiply the X by two.
That’s the first step. Done, I feel fine.
I will multiply the Y too.
Now, I add my X plus X.
My Y plus Y.
That was to make sure it checks.
Now here’s the predicament (easy my shoe!)
This is my problem,
And a real head-scratcher too!
The equation adds up nicely
And the X and Y are simplified.
But, how do I eliminate my algebra homework
-honestly...I have no clue why...-
As I began to rest in my fickle dream
Suddenly I was stirred from my sleep
I was greeted by many a whisker
And petulant snores from my sister
The cat mewed ferociously and purred
For there on the other side of the window—was a bird!
It chirped like a wobbly siren—the ass!
And I swear by my bosom it was pecking the glass
Suddenly, I sprang up in alarm
I swear my bosom was gone!
The cat then motioned at the feathered brat
For her bright breasts seemed extra fat
Of course it wouldn’t have been that
But I couldn’t just blame the cat!
I opened the window only a crack
And asked very kindly, “May I have my breasts back?”
Such pride she attained from my bosom
Yet why? –how would she use ‘em!?
The mockingbird merely turned a goodbye
But the stolen twins were too heavy to fly!
She plopped to the ground and squawked
I would have laughed, but I was shocked!
The cat scratched at the window and with her eyes
Said, “Prithee, take your breasts—she’s mine!”
Before I could think I had fallen to the ground
To a booming, most terrible sound!
My eyes then opened to a cat on my head
As the booming sound continued from my sister’s bed
Now here's a contest that seems pointless
But, up to a point, I guess it will do.
The points in my life have sometimes been fruitless,
I just thought I would point that out to you.
Oh, the point of this rhyme
May be pointed one way,
But it is at this point in time
To score points by what I say.
The point that I am making,
Is that there is always some point
That life points in a way forsaking,
Giving your point a grave disjoint.
I have pointed out many times
that points are good and bad.
But the good points I remember better
Rather than the bad points I have had.
You can sometimes see how pointless it is
To try to point these things out.
As for the point I am making,
You get the point...no doubt!
I called upon yonder window
That was up to high for me to be
For my maiden gracefully sleeps there
In her bed,beside the sea
I asked her to come hither
For her beautiful face I yearned to see
Twas yawning in the morning dew
As she slowly came to the window for me
To my amazement came forth a ragged wench
Whos hair was as raged as the sea
With eyes that were burnt as nightposts
To bloodshot and squinty to even see
For this was not my fair maiden?
Whos beauty would forever be
But a drunken harlot who came hither
That she spent the night with instead of me
My heart now broken to pieces
Wondering how could this tragedy be?
For my maiden now sleeps with a harlot?
Without the love that she once gave to me?
My mind was now enraged
So I dashed for the wrestling sea
With thoughts of drowning this useless body
That's no longer good enough for my maiden to see
With water just over waist height
And a large wave about to crash over me
I heard a calling from yonder window
Twas my beautiful maiden as I turned to see
Her beautiful eyes in such distress
Her beautiful hair flowing so care free
Twas the beauty of my fair maiden
That I had called upon yonder window to see
For the thoughts that raced through my mind
Evidently,weren't truely what happend to be
For it was her promiscuous sister
Who had come from the other side of the sea
My heart now rebuilt with a sigh of love
A large wave suddenly crashes over me
The last thing I saw was my fair maiden
As my lifeless body is carried out by the sea
'Tis strange where we should get the notion
That poetry expressed in motion
Should within the human form reside.
When nature gives us many chances
Unpractised and ephemeral dances
Like in a muddy field when sheep collide
Truth is, that nature's not so humble
And doesn't mind the dancer's stumble
There's nothing that it ever seeks to hide
Uncaring it leaves all revealed
And is not shamed if one small field
Has crazy sheep and one long muddy slide
They're mad, they're bad, they're having fun
Those naughty sheep and every one
Is doing what convention has denied
The hillside's muddy, wet and slick
With crazy sheepies sliding quick
Down to the bottom, down where sheep collide.
Many count good nature's fare
The birdsong and the country air
Among the wonders of the countryside
But strange delight can yet be found
In woolly bodies sliding round
A simple muddy field where sheep collide.
While nature guides celestial spheres
In cosmic dances, it appears,
With majesty the earthborn are denied
Down far beneath in mud and grass
A sheep slides on its woolly a***:
A sense of fun, though not a sense of pride.
Did you ever have the feeling there's a man in your can?
Or a ball down the hall with an eye to spy?
Sometimes I'm sure I have ants on a tour of my house without cure.
And sometimes I know there's a pup in my cup, yelling "Hey, what's up!"
And that white ram in the door jam well, he's on the lam.
That's the kind of paranoia I live with each day.
I admit I'm delusional in a big way!
Some visitors are quite friendly like the girl with a curl under my bed with Earle.
But Bower in the shower, well he sings for hours!
And the lady named Sadie why she is quite shady!
I like Randy. He always has candy.
But the man looking at me in the TV, him I wish I couldn't see.
All the brunettes in the cabinets, they love to dance about.
But that meanie named Bellini, him I could do without!
The cat in my hat I don't like at all.
And I get quite nervous when Saul runs down the hall.
The bears on the stairs taunt me without a sound.
And so do the others who like to hang around.
Like Bert, and Mert, and Kurt, and Gert who live inside my shirt.
I don't care if you don't believe it, find me my straitjacket. I'll never leave it!
*Based on the book, There's a Wocket in My Pocket
for Dr. Seuss Theme and Form contest (Joann Grisetti)