Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

Funny Dad Poems | Funny Poems About Dad

These Funny Dad poems are examples of Funny poems about Dad. These are the best examples of Funny Dad poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

If you don't find the poem you want here, try our incredible, super duper, all-knowing, advanced poem search engine.

Details | Rhyme | |


I can hear him coming
Several times a day
Jim's a bathroom junkie
I'm his favorite hide away

The first thing he does
Is flip on light and fan
Avoiding unpleasant vapors
Its all part of the plan

He sits on the porcelain pony
And gently closes his eyes
Imagines he's James T. Kirk
On the starship Enterprise 

In here, Jim is King
He rests upon the throne
Royalty with no subjects
He rules this Kingdom alone

But there's no threat of being bored
He could stay in here all day
With all the books and the magazines
And a mirror where he flexes away

It's all about the options
In this place of unique charm
Because the truth be known
More times than not, it's a false alarm

It's discovered the "Boss" is missing
I know they'll find him soon
It doesn't take rocket science to know
He's here again.. in Jim's Bathroom.

Contest: Tickle My Funny Bone
Sponsor: Francine Roberts

Details | Light Poetry | |

A Mouse in the House

A little grey mouse snuck into the house to get himself out of the cold. Then the house cat Who saw where he sat pursued him I am told. The lazy old dog who sleeps like log was startled by the chase, So she woke up her own small pup and they joined in the race. My sister the baby decided that maybe she would give it a try, She started a spat And was scratched by the cat and then she started to cry. That’s when mom called to Uncle Tom to come and lend a hand, With a straw broom mom circled the room knocking plants from off a stand. In came my dad and he was quite mad because the house was in disarray He was vexed with what happened next But it happened just this way. Our two brave bowsers chased the mouse up dad’s trousers He thought he’d be safe in there. Until Dad started to dance with the mouse in his pants Then he jumped up on a kitchen chair. Mom smacked dad’s seat and then came a repeat And the mouse climbed out of his pocket. Unseen by all he started to crawl into the wall through an open socket. Later that night, With no one in sight, I put out a nut for the little mouse. I had no hate toward him, And I tried to reward him. Even if he was trapped inside our house. I told him my name, And he did the same, Then he stuffed the nut into his cheeks. He said thanks for the food, And I don’t mean to be rude, But that was the most fun that I’ve had in weeks.

Details | Light Poetry | |

The Birds and the Bees PG13

Yup, just like this. This is how dad told us about the wonders of life. No eye contact at all.

One day my father told his four sons to climb into the car,
He wouldn’t tell us where we were going just that it wasn’t far.

I sat in the front next to dad the other three sat in back,
Boys it’s time we had a talk about a subject that you lack.

I want to talk to the four of you about something that’s called sex,
Collectively we held our breath because of the horror that came next.

I am sure that you have started to notice there’s a difference in girls,
Their bodies are soft, curvy and round and their hair looks good in curls.

I promised that I had taken some notice, there was no need for him to fear,
Because I was now sixteen years old and had been dating for over a year.

Then this talk is for the benefit of the younger ones in the back,
Be helpful and sit quietly and don’t give me anymore of your flack.

This trip in the car with him was the longest that could ever be,
Then he asked, “Can you define ridged for your brothers and me?”

The only thing that I could imagine worse than his talk selection,
Was when he extended his left arm in order to demonstrate an erection.

It hung flaccid out the window but slowly it started to rise,
Until it pointed straight to the left, a stiff arm, hard on prize.

Out the window the visual aid of my dad’s left arm boner,
Made the guy behind us think that we were turning at each corner.

As we returned to home dad said that mom had found some books,
They had information with helpful pictures and we should take a look.

From this whole experience there was something for me to learn,
Sometimes I’ll turn to my wife at night and signal for a turn.

Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

By Degrees

September I gazed outside with unease
When I heard it will fall in the sixties.
Then dad said we’ll soon be losing degrees;
To me these things sounded like tragedies.

Why do we have say bye to degrees?
I never knew they were our enemies.
Tell me the truth ‘cause I hate when you tease.
I’m begging you, dad, I need to know please?

I dreamed degrees were no bigger than fleas
That could saddle up on the backs of bees,
And buzz along in rows of twos and threes
Then vanish amongst the tallest of trees.
Dad replied, you’ll learn it all by degrees,
So I gave up on him and asked Louise
To see if she knew much about degrees.
My sister said they’re in geometry.

She drew a large L, and said this big cheese
Is a right angle; called ninety degrees.
Angles take their shape by connecting these
Points together, denoted with ABC’s.

Right angles were proved by Isosceles,
And two of them are complimentary.
Whatever this had to do with degrees
Was another of life’s big mysteries.

I pictured angles of many degrees
Popping out from books of geometry.
As gulls that appear as a flock of vees
Flying above all of the seven seas.

I then asked my mom, can you help me please
Concerning my questions about degrees?
Sure, hon, she said, see those sugar cookies
They baked at three hundred fifty degrees.

Oh my goodness mom, you say that all these
Are as hot as the sun without a breeze?
Of course not, silly, there only cookies;
They’re made to raise money for charities.

I thought if the sun was made of cookies?
Of course I’d prefer that better than peas.
But anyways, would the universe freeze?
Whether out of cookies, or peas, or cheese?

Since I was still puzzled about degrees
I ran back upstairs, with difficulties.
Knowing my brother was sick with disease,
I crawled in his room on both hands and knees.

Dad was there too, but his face showed worries
Tom’s temp reached over one hundred degrees.
So I touched his forehead, and thought, oh jeez
It would melt bowls of M&M candies.

I imagined if Tom had to sneeze,
Would the juice burn through the land and seas?
And make it all the way to the Chinese;
Would it infect all their towns and cities?
To Dad’s home office I went ill at ease
And when dad came in I asked him if he’s
Going to lower Tom’s hundred degrees?
Dad said don’t worry, he has expertise.

He showed me one of his MD degrees
That you can earn at Universities.
He said if Tom rests and catches some zees
He’ll soon be totally free of disease.

I thought instead of Universities
I’d join the circus and learn the trapeze,
Or perhaps be a clown so that I can squeeze
Into a small car that runs without keys.

I think on that day I learned by degrees
That they can cook, and measure disease.
Fit on the wall, are in geometry
Yet I’m perplexed to the umpteenth degree. 

Details | Light Poetry | |

The Job Interview

The HR person called me in… I was turning gray… Was he even twenty-one?
I wondered if the interview would go well, as he did fung shui the chairs around.
Offered a caramel expresso mocha late decaf, I told him I took my coffee black.
Alas my friend, it got progressively worse, this: our proverbial generational gap.

He asked me to explain, how I’d be the best personnel fit, for this illustrious job.
Ah! Experience I had in abounds, as I pulled out a 100-page resume, neatly bound.
That question, had me off and running, but I knew, I was in some trouble when…
I saw his eyes glaze over, and he ask me, ‘Have we made it into space yet?’

He smirked, when he ask, about ‘Recent’ applicable education, in the last 5 years.
I condensed my course certifications till he nearly fell off, his crazy chair, my dear!
He ask the projects worked on, unfortunately, all were government secret classified. 
So I added some of the numerous skills, that had been applied, till he almost cried.

I started with the job descriptions, but he didn’t like… that the names were so long.
And the abbreviations normally used, in this line of work, almost blew his mind.
Though I also got the feeling, he may have thought that I’d finally, lost mine, since…
My accomplishments had scads of stuff he’d never, ever, be able to comprehend...

You know, ‘things’ about the job, HR doesn’t care about or bother to be clued in.
Luckily all was saved, before the interviewers’ jaw, hit the floor around his chair.
Using a power point presentation, illustrations appeared, giving him a better clue.
I even gave him a burned DVD, set to the music of  ‘Live Free or Die Hard’, too.

He ask about items, he’d never heard of, you know, from way before he was born.
But got the feeling he’d be more attentive, talking about a computer game going on.
I didn’t lie about a thing, it’s not my fault some Companies are now closed down!
But I felt things were somewhat a success, as security finally came to lead me out…

Unfortunately, in the end, they hired a young one, and I couldn’t understand why.
He was a quiet, little, studious kid, who didn’t say a thing, but had stars in his eyes.
He didn’t understand any of the work involved, but his pay would be next to none.
But that's whom they got: until that company closed for work that couldn’t be done.

All because the HR Department didn't help them get the workers they did need.
I became self-employed, developing computer games, all the rage! Oh So Sweet!
Yes, I became a millionaire, with my own company, without HR, anywhere seen!
Now, we develop rockets to go into space, where I felt, that HR person should be.

Dedicated to all those Middle aged people stressed out after looking for a job.
Wife and Hubby Collaboration

Details | Rhyme | |

the art of making possible what is probable-w

A boy asked his dad, “What the elections are for, after all, Dad?”
The dad replied,” I have the money, I’m manager of you all, Lad?”

All money I have, give it to your mom so she is the Government
Maid, a working class, you the people, your brother commitment”

The boy woke up as baby brother soiled diapers that night
Went to his mom’s room and found her alone asleep tight. 

So he went to maid’s room, found his Dad in bed with her
The angry boy banged on the door but nobody did bother

The next day he said to his dad that he has been fully fed, 
You explain it to me son, in your own words, asked his Dad. 

“The management is screwing, the government asleep tight
 The people are ignored and the commitment not in sight”.


Second place winner in
Contest: Election Humor by Carolyn devonshire
Seventh place win in P.d.'s contest June'11

Details | Verse | |

Family Dinner

Everyone is dressed just right,

with our smiles slapped on tight,

we are having a family dinner.

The mood is tense,

yet we have to make sense,

and we can always talk about the weather.


We blow kisses and show our love,

everything is just right.

We shower praises over each other,

and pray that the night is over without a flight.


Ignore the bitter-in-law,

she needs some sugar.

She vowed to deny herself happiness,

since she lost her lover.


Pay attention to the chatty uncle.

He claims to be rich although he eats like a savage.

just nod your head and seem interested,

and hope the topic does not turn to marriage.


Sit away from the young brother,

once an answer to his question, he is on to another.

To the old man he asks,"So what do you do?"

and to the orphan child,"Where is your mother?"


The room is beautiful, the food is delicious,

a night with our near and dear.

This could well be the perfect family dinner,

but only the flowers in the room seem real.

Details | Ballade | |

Lisa Maree

Dedicated to my darling daughter. Lisa Maree, the kindest girl in the world

Lisa Maree

Lisa Maree, you baffle me
You just don’t seem to care
You throw your money all around
And people who won’t share
Will try to take you for a ride
And you can’t always see
What some folk try to do to you
You’ve too much trust in thee.

Lisa Maree, it’s plain to see
That you’re a special girl
Though sometimes you go off on one
And mind goes in a whirl
Your heart is gold, pure solid gold
You’re as soft as heated honey
You have a sense of humor too
You even think 'you’re' funny.

Some might find you hard to take
These fickle kinds of folk
Will run you down for being you
And treat you like a joke
But fickle folk don’t mean a thing
You’re far above the rest
When you are helping someone out
That’s when you’re at your best.

23 August 2013 @ 1817hrs

Details | Free verse | |

My Heritage

My heritage is a mixture
Of backgrounds.  Let's start on 
My Dad's side of the family.

My Dad's mom is Irish and English.

My Dad's dad is Irish and German.

My Mom's mom is Scottish and Irish.

My Mom's dad is blood Hungarian.

So in other words,
I'm a mutt!  or as others say,
"Heinz 57!"

Details | Couplet | |

Coco For Ten

<                               Coco was his name
                                 Spider monkey all the same

                                Dad worked for zoo
                                Feeder of Coco too

                               Brought the little guy home
                               Boy did Coco love to rome

                               Droppings here and there
                               Mom  covered up his dairy - air

                               Shoulders he did seek
                               Knocking  younger ones off their feet

                                Bananas and salted nuts
                                Made Coco dance and strut

                               Each day a animal of new
                               Dad brought home from the zoo

                               But the one I'll remember the most
                               Was coco who shared my daily toast

Tribute To 
Como Park Zoo
St Paul Minnesota

Coco And Daddy

Can You Imagine
A Monkey Playing
With 10 Kids  LOL


Details | Rhyme | |

Another Bowl of Spaghetti

Our taste buds have gone sad
It is the fault of Dad
Since Mom's been gone
He's feeding us all wrong

Now it's not that we are upset
It's just that we object
For three meals a day
Another bowl of spaghetti

At first we were pleased
We had plenty of cheese
But Mom were about to flip
Come back from your business trip

Dad's heart is right
He thinks his spaghetti a delight
But even chef Boyardee
Had some variety

No use to complain
Every meal is the same
Three times a day
Another bowl of spaghetti

Details | I do not know? | |

Forgetfulness x-x

Oh no!! I forgot – I had a plate of dessert In the cool freezer Oh no!! Dad forgot – He left his blue bowl of fruit On the clean counter!

Details | Rhyme | |

Santas Surprise

I... thought Santa was cool,
Until he came into the house.
The old fart was pissed an swearing,
And what we saw, even killed my mouse.

He fell through the chimney,
On the embers in the fire place.
In colourful words he expressed his pain,
Which showed in his sooty red face.

He stood with his trousers round his ankles,
And his pecker pointing straight up in the air.
He slurred with the most fruitful words, I’ll never forget,
“This present is for your mother, so don’t bloody stare.”

Mama shouted in an equally explanatory tone ,
“You’ve been drinking again I see?”
She hit his tool with a wooden spoon, 
And his expression was like one chewing a bee.

He fell back and landed with a thud on the floor,
Then sprung to his feet as he scream an’ bawled.
There was something dangling from his butt,
I saw its hind legs limp as he dashed out the door.

Well, I saw me Dad the next day
He looked and walked a little rough
“I told him, “No more Christmas,”
I said, “I had enough”

“It was bad enough Santa was drunk,”
“As he ran out the front door of the house.”
“But Dad I’ll never for give him,”
“For not pulling out of his butt, my suffocating little pet mouse”

**Sweets Contest **Hello Supees I'M Back

Details | Rhyme | |

Barber Shop

When I was a mere lad, my Dad always cut my hair,
But as I reached my teens and became much more debonair,
To the bald-headed barber I whizzed in my old hometown,
Seated myself in his chair and plopped my quarter down!

I had never been a paying client at a barber shop before,
So I asked about that red, white and blue pole spinning by the door.
Said he, "It was a sign for barbers doing surgery in the olden day!"
At that I gulped, almost choked and turned a sickly gray!

Done with my hair, he'd shave my neck and brush on lots of powder,
And liberally douse my scalp with Vitalis - I couldn't have been prouder!
His shop reeked of pungent oils and stale tobacco smoke,
It was all I could do to sit there, trying to stifle a choke!

The town barber shop was a place to gossip and hear inane babble,
And was the local hangout for ne'er-do-wells and other idle rabble.
The risque banter invading my naive and delicate ears,
Gave me an education far beyond my tender years!

The tales I heard were of the local women, booze and such.
Though I had some inkling, I didn't understand all that much!
Had my dear devout Mother known what transpired there,
I suspect she would've insisted that Dad continue to clip my hair!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved

Details | Rhyme | |

All Things Green

My memories of my childhood days are few and far between,
My lucky number seven and my favourite colour green.
Banality of daily life was there for mice and men,
But nothing really matters much when at the age of ten.

I loved to ride my bicycle, go swimming in the lake.
I went to birthday parties, eating jelly, ice cream, cake.
Remember loving sausages and hating cold green beans,
But food was swapped for dating  by the time I hit my teens.

By adulthood my life was marred by being mediocre,
I’d spend my time in pubs and bars, drink beer, play nine card poker.
My parents feared my devilry would not be just a blip,
My father came from Ireland so proposed I took a trip.

He said the memories that I’d have would stay with me forever.
I went. I never thought it, but my dad was very clever.
Irish whisky, Guinness, Smithwick’s, Bailey’s Irish Cream,
They tasted so divine I drank myself into a dream.
My dad no longer talks to me which isn’t very nice,
I listened to him after all and heeded his advice.
The memories that I’m laying down will always make me smile.
The legacy he left for me. The dear old Emerald Isle.                                                                             

Details | Rhyme | |

beware there in

Dad heard a scream from up stairs,
He ran to his son’s rescue and found him in tears.
“What’s the matter son?” Dad gently said,
There’s, there’s a monster in the bathroom and I’m really scared.

“It’s lumpy and hairy with a warts on it legs,”
“And on it’s chest it has what looks like two scrambled eggs”
“It’s belly hangs all the way down to it’s knees
“Daddy, daddy, protect me please!” 

“It knows my name, it, it said it through a toothless grin,”
“It’s face is vomit green.”
“Enough,” said Dad smiling, “There’s no such thing.”
A rumbling noise came from the bathroom.
Go see Dad but come back soon.

Dad stood by the bathroom door for a while be fore he went in
And when he opened it his terrified son heard dad scream.
The monster had a huge wart on it’s bum
That's when dad recognized it and said “ Son needs therapy now How could you mum”

*For Lisa who gave me the title. I hope it is good for you as it was for me :-)*

Details | Rhyme | |

It's April Fools Today

My daddy played a trick on me
When I was just a tike
Asleep, I was in dreamland town
A 'riding on my bike

And suddenly - I hear a noise
A clanging sound it seems
It was my dad with pots in hand
He's banging on the beams

He's shouting out "wake up, wake up"
We're getting in the ride
It's time to go, no time to waste
We've got to get outside!

There's bees in here, they're everywhere
They're stinging all they see
Get in those clothes, hitch up your boots
It's time for us to flee!

So up I jump, still in a daze
What happened to my bike?
Where are my clothes, can't find my boots
Oh my, this I don't like

We run outside, hey - where's the car
Dad woke us up you know
Those bees in there will sting for sure
It's time for us to go!

My dad's outside with teary eyes
From laughing all the way
He turns to us and with a grin
"It's April Fools today!

Details | Rhyme | |

My Model Plane


Way back, when I was 12 years old,
I built a model airplane with my Dad,
It was a great experience, but most of all,
We spent some time together, and for that I was glad.

The plane was built from balsa wood and paper,
With a rubber band running from propeller to tail,
It was a labor of love for about 2 weeks,
When we finished it, it was time to exhale.

It was displayed in my room on top of my dresser,
This was not just considered a toy,
But this was a project that I was proud of,
And I considered it as my pride and joy.

Well, about 2 weeks later, it was moving day,
From our 2nd floor apartment on E. 8th St.
We drove about 5 miles in our ’49 Plymouth,
To our 12th floor apartment on W. 5th St.

The only way I could protect the plane was,
To put it on the rear shelf of the car,
I guarded my model, made sure it didn’t move,
Even though the trip wasn’t really that far.

Well , I got my plane home in one piece,
And displayed it in my brand new room,
But I was told by my Mom & Dad to continue working,
So, unpacking my stuff I resumed.

One day I had a bright idea,
I wanted to see if my plane would fly,
So I turned the propeller, the rubber band twisted tight,
And what happened next made me want to cry.

I turned the propeller 1 last time,
And the plane then snapped in 2,
Then I thought to myself, Oh my God,
What the hell did I just do?

I never saw my Dad laugh so hard,
And there is just 1 thing left to say,
A promising career as an aircraft engineer,
Came to an abrupt halt that day.

Details | Light Poetry | |


Dad was digging in the garden 
When he struck a custard well
Mum was none too happy
By her phizog you could tell

We watched the plume of custard
As it rose into the sky
Dad said “It’s bloomin’ lovely
We can have that with some pie

Mum was still unhappy
“This has ruined my best dress
You can both get out there later
And clear up this ruddy mess”

First thing in the morning
I went out, to see the hole
Scraped away the surface
And I filled a little bowl

Sitting on my haunches
In my jim jams and a vest
I took a cautious spoonful
And declared it was the best

Then later on, the press appeared
And in the garden mustered
As Dad explained how he had found
A well of perfect custard

A well known geolologist
Was hired to survey
He said our well, might just achieve
Ten thousand puds a day

So, Dad went out and bought himself 
A brand new custard pump
And put it in the shed that he
Was just about to dump

With lots and lots of effort
And a little bit of planning
We built ourselves a factory
And we started custard canning

Now mum is very happy, ‘cause
We’ve bought a house that’s bigger
Don’t know what she’ll say though
When she sees Dad’s bought a digger 

Details | Light Poetry | |


My dad told me when he was young
And fit as fit could be
As the best Saharan lumberjack
He cut down every tree

He rode a wild dinosaur
From York to Timbuctu
He took it back to London
And put it in the Zoo

Then later on in World War two
The German horde he beat
With just his trusty penknife
He forced them to retreat

He’s swam the Indian ocean
Ate crocodiles for tea
Paddled up Niagara falls
And still got home by three

I relate my fathers exploits
Friends give me such a ribbing
They say his tales are tall ones
And that my dad is fibbing

But I know my dads not lying
There is no way he can
I know my dads not fibbing
He’s a real life superman

Details | I do not know? | |

A long line of scallywags

I love my son he's always chipper
he's my scallywag and I'm the skipper
and the apple does'nt fall far from the tree
he's menatly challenged just like me!

and even though his dad's a zero
"hey dad your my hero!"
having fun is all he's wishing
"hey dad ya wanna go fishin?"

lost the house a home we have not
"hey dad looky what I caught!"
no business financal ruin we sank
"aww dad you can have my piggy bank"

rich kids need toys to have fun
"love you dad!" "love you son!"
think no toys would make him sad?
such a good boy "your the best dad!"

now I know I won't always live forever
"hey dad we always be together?"
"no worries son just stay chipper
you'll have your own scallywag and you'll be the skipper!"

by Captain Mike Harris and his son

Details | Light Poetry | |

International Incident

I’ve been time traveling recently. Going back through events in my life. You might be inflicted with my memories for a while. 

No, I didn’t make this up. It actually happened just this way.

My dad was always trying his best our horizons to expand
He taught us to extend our hand and shake just like a man

And if there was an opportunity to bring culture to his brood
He’d insist that we all try it like eating octopus for food

One night he brought home a fellow businessman
He came from far off Sweden just to visit with our clan.

Mom made sure that we were dressed and we practiced our handshake
She told us all to be polite and about the extra effort we should make.

When dad came home we all lined up and were quiet, not a word
Then dad turned to the four of us and said, “Boys this is my friend Turd.”

Why his name couldn’t have been Sven or Lars is hard to understand
And why couldn’t dad have warned us, it should have been better planed.

But he didn’t, he just said it and let it ring inside our ears
We tried our best to hold it in but it started to bring tears.

I made the mistake of turning my head to look at my three brothers,
And just like me each of them was turning to look at the three others.

That’s all it took the dam was burst our quivering jaws let loose
We spit and laughed even knowing that our necks were in the noose.

Some advice to you young fathers now seeing what could be at stake
There’s only so much diplomacy a ten year old can take.

Details | I do not know? | |


                                    HOW MUCH FISH CAN SMOKEY EAT

All cats like fish as we all know,
But Smokey just loved it,
It made quite a show.

My dad went fishing most every week,
And Smokey would wait,
By the door for his treat.

Dad always saved Smokey a nice big fish,
But Smokey kept begging,
To refill his dish.

One day Dad asked him,"How much can you eat?"
And gave him another,
Just for a treat.

Soon it was gone and the cat was back,
Begging and pleading,
For the fish in Dad's sack.

Time and again Dad gave him another,
And finally asked Mom,
"Has he got a brother?"

"Am I feeding two cats? Where does he put it?
I can't give him more,
He'll make himself sick!"

So Daddy refused after five or six fish,
And Smokey decided,
To fill his own dish.

While Dad was busy, quick as a flash,
He snatched up a filet,
And made a mad dash;

But Daddy was quick as the cat it would seem,
And grabbed back the fish,
As the cat made a scream.

Round and around each tugged at his end,
Till at last that poor fish,
In the middle was rend.

The cat ran away with a piece in his mouth,
To hide with his fish,
Somewhere in the house.

Dad had great fun retelling this tale,
Of the great tug of war,
With the cat and fish tail.

                                         Judy Ball

Details | Rhyme | |


As a dad of three I’ve got your measure
We love you protect you give us lots of pleasure
But……mums and dads aren’t as daft as you think we are
Dads give us a fiver and ill wash your car
Mum….can I take a couple of pounds out of the copper jar

My car barely sees water and a sponge because it’s too much mither
And the copper jar that held a tenner now holds just a fiver
And so it goes on

Dad….can I stay out as long as Paul his dad lets him stay out till eleven
A quick call to Paul’s dad guess what Pauls in at seven
We love you dearly but you kids think were daft
But were on to you it’s almost become a craft

And the classic dad can I have my pocket money mums give her last to my brother
A quick word with mum reveals you’ve just had a tenner
Me and your mum we do talk to each other
Clean your room up I’ve asked you 4 times if you don’t that’s it your grounded I said
I’ve done it dad you tell me I go check it’s clean but it’s all under your bed
That’s it your grounded
Toys out of pram and don’t give me that look
You know the one open mouthed astounded
You see mums and dads aren’t daft it’s all part of the game
But…..through all your tantrums and tears
We still love you all the same

Details | Free verse | |

I Won't Write Santa

This year I won't write Santa,

Instead I'll write the President.

I won't forget to five-space indent,

Or write, Sincerely, George; from Atlanta.

I hope he reads all his notes, like Santa,

For at Christmas, he takes time to listen.

To a little boy that feels so sad,

Because all year he've missed his dad.

My dad is quite a brave man,

To go and serve in foreign lands.

Mom says, I must be real strong,

A sad letter to the President would be wrong.

My mom is always right,

Though, I must write to him this night.

I won't write a sad letter to him at all,

I'll write, "hope you have a ball."

I know he'll spend time with his dad,

His dad must be really proud and glad.

He'll have all his love ones with him,

"Ho-Ho, Merry Christmas to all of them."

Details | Rhyme | |

Shoot My Mouth Off

Dad said Willy Munn had jumped the gun
and he raised his fists to everyone
then he shot off his mouth...
so I went to his house
no perceivable damage was done!

But he saw my nose pressed to the pane
so I ran away back down the lane
but he came to our door
and he yelled and he roared
and my parents swore I could explain!

So I faced him while filled with pure dread
and I told him all my dad had said
and nobody looked pleased
not a soul was appeased...
Were they sad that no hole aired Will's head?

And as second thoughts came I declared
how I thought Willy Munn had been spared
'cause his face was a mess
even when at it's best
from the punches when tempers were flared.

When I looked at the three I just knew
that my days spent in listening were through
and I thought I should shoot
that small place where my boot
was now lodged there with yesterday's shoe.

I remembered a little to late
'bout the last time that dad set me straight
"an idiom's not real
the true idea's concealed
I don't always mean all that I state!"

Details | Ballad | |

I Can Finally Drive

My bicycle days are through 
Please help me spread the news 
I no longer have to be a 32 year old hermit 
Mom and Dad got me my permit 
I just bought a car that seats 5 
Thanks to my parents I can finally drive 
Mom goes with me and my girlfriend out to eat 
Mom rides shotgun, my girl in the back seat 
While we are eating with live entertainment 
My girlfriend expresses how she doesn't like the car's seating arrangement 
So my mom drives and my girl is shotgun 
Now I am the lonely one 
We drop off my girlfriend and I ask my mom to remove the knife 
She says stop complaining, now you can drive 
The next night my Dad goes out with me and my buds 
We want to sit back and suck down a few suds 
Not on my watch, my Dad says 
My night out with the buds was disastrous 
After one beer, my Dad says you are too drunk to get behind the wheel 
He has no idea how this freedom of driving makes me feel 
My Mom and Dad are smothering me, my social life will never survive 
With them around, it look as if I will never truly drive 
Now it's Mom's turn to escort me, guess where we go 
My girl and Mom in the front seats, we stop at Domino's 
We all three sit in the car and wait for the pizza to get done 
Mom says no a/c, let's enjoy the sun 
I begin a waterfall of sweat 
Mom says look at you, you're all wet 
Mom asks for extra napkins when the pizza is delivered to the car 
Mom says tonight is Friday, let's park by the lake and enjoy the stars 
At the lake, I will drown myself, if I take a dive 
I am going back to the bicycle, I will never again attempt to drive

Details | I do not know? | |

I got a lickin for eating a chicken

(This is a fictional poem)

One day I sure did get a lickin.
It happened when I ate a chicken.
I soon learned that the chicken was a little boy's pet.
Eating it was something I would regret.
I killed the chicken when it wandered in my yard.
The boy's dad came to my house and he sure hits hard.
When the boy's dad asked if I killed the chicken, I said yes.
I soon wished that I hadn't confessed.
The little boy cried when he learned that his chicken was dead.
His father turned me inside out and then he cracked open my head.
He plucked out my hair like I plucked the chicken's feathers.
He threw a hatchet at me and my left ear was severed.
That sure was a tasty hen.
But now I never want to eat chicken again.

Details | Rhyme | |

Piss and Vinegar

Your full of piss and vinegar
My dad used to say
I don't want to smell like pee
To my mother I'd cry my way

Since I wouldn't use the toilet
The pee turned to vinegar over time
This is how my dad potty trained me
It still works on grandchildren of mine

Details | Light Poetry | |

I'm An Animal

"We were all born part animal"









This is what my dad told us kids
all the frigging time lol
thanks dad and happy father's day

july 5th 1925 - april 11 th 1981