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Sonnet Funny Poems | Sonnet Poems About Funny

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

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Details | Sonnet | |

Jabberwacky

I know a scamp who chortles frabjously
as in the springtime galumphing he goes.
And just to show how wacky he can be,
he makes his tongue point up to touch his nose!

He has no wicked claws or eyes with flame
to match those of the manxome Jabberwock.
But just beware his jaws. Although he’s tame,
he can’t be stopped once he begins to talk!

I vouch that he can jabber endlessly
and have me at the end of my short rope.
My ears just might fall off one day, for he
gyres gibberish just like a gyroscope.

I dub my beamish grandson “Jabberwack”
for how he acts and how he loves to yak!


For Debbie Guzzi's "Go Ask Alice" Contest


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Christmas Wishes for You

For anyone struggling in the holiday season!!

Although there's nothing much that I could add
to all the Christmas wishes ever made,
I'll wish for you that traffic won't be bad
the day you shop and that you may get paid
some kind of Christmas bonus for a change,
and when beneath the mistletoe you stand,
I hope you're not approached by someone strange,
but rather by a stranger who is grand!
And should you be so childish (I mean bold)
to ice skate on a lake or board the snow,
I pray for you that you don't catch a cold
or break a leg as down some hill you go.
My wishes, like my gifts, are kind of cheap;
May faith in them require no giant leap!


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Note to a Lady in Waiting

The white charger's belly is bloated with hay
The helmet helm's rusted quite shut
The tack room door hinges are tearing away
The leather's un oiled  and dry
The lance is still good
It is bracing the fence
but  I traded the sword for a pen
I am presently seeking a page
So if you're still waiting
and anticipating 
A Lochinvar ending of sorts
I shall purchase wild oats for the horse
I recall how to sow them of course
With hardly a shred of remorse


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Irreplaceable Love

Oh, how I loved my little teddy bear
although I don’t recall from whom he came
or when I first laid eyes on him or where;
I only know I chose for him his name.

Yes, Pinky Winky’s name was like my own,
a playful silly nickname “Andy Pandy,”
and also in his ear a bell was sewn;
I jingled him and thought he was quite dandy.

Everywhere with me went Pinky Winky
until he met sad fate with one cruel splash.
He fell into the toilet and got stinky.
I wailed when Mother threw him in the trash.

Alas! The pink imposter in his place
no jingling made nor had dear “Winky’s” face.


For The Teddy Bear Picnic Poetry Contest of SandyIvy
-dedicated to PD


Details | Sonnet | |

Sandcastles

When I was a young boy,
I built a castle on the beach.
I made it from sand with my shovel-toy,
Then the waves grabbed it in their reach.
They tore my castle down,
And dragged it down into the sea.
So i took my shovel and, with a frown,
Built another castle quickly.
I built it bigger and stronger
Than the ones in the past.
I thought this one would last longer,
But its walls would no longer last.
I built a moat around the last one that day,
But the waves seemed desperate to wash them all away.


Details | Sonnet | |

A Brutally Honest Valentine's

My darling enigma, my dove   
You’re the epitome of my love
Your smile shines at me pearly white      
Pale skin shines and glints in the light       
Silken locks, obsidian flow
Eyes just like ice, crystalline glow        
Peals of laughter ring like a bell            
Enchant me; I’m under your spell    
You walk with a musical flow
Tiptoeing with softness through snow

But, alas, you open your mouth
Utter tripe spilling out
If only you’d keep your mouth shut.

(Love from Anonymous) 


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Shall I Compare Thee to Your Mother's Arse

Shall I compare thee to your mother's arse?
Thou aren’t more lovely, but more flatulent.
Rough winds do shake it; and bring on a farce
And all her clothes hath all too short a rent

Sometime too hot-headed of hell doth burn,
And often is the true nature exposed;
And every foul from fowl; my stomach churns,
By reason, or by nature's raging closed.

But thy infernal diet shall ne’er start
Nor gain possession of which now I grasp;
Nor shall we meet again; let’s stay apart,
When in eternal sounds the voice does rasp,
So long as men can breathe or eyes can cry,
So long lives this, and I bid thee goodbye.


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First crossed by a gyspy, now by a dang witch

“Close the book, ring the bell, light the candle.”
The witch’s words resounded in my ears.
My problems now were more than I could handle
and so I hoped she’d vanquish all my fears.

She stared at me across the darkened room
and then commanded me that I must stay
until my wish was granted. Then a broom
she grabbed, and out the door she flew away!

The magic lay in me, the hag had said.
I only had to wish with all my might.
But with my kind of luck, I might be dead
before I’d get what I had wished that night.

I sit here still; she’s left me with a curse!
No health care yet, and now my back is worse!

(sorry to belabor this, but now you see what preoccupies
my mind these days!! Linda's contests always seem
to bring out this topic for me lately. The gypsy referred to
in my title was in my last poem I did for Linda!)

By Andrea Dietrich for Linda-Marie's
"BELL, BOOK AND CANDLE" Poetry Contest


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Eight Sons

(These would include the younger brothers of Wounded Thunder, the character I made up in my previously posted poem). These were sons of Thunder Storm and “Flower,” from Wounded Thunder down to Thunder Bolt. “Bolt” was fast; the touchy one was “Shower.” And Thunder Struck was somewhat of a dolt. The cute one pampered by fair Prairie Flower well-deserved his name of Thunder Squall, and like another brother Thunder Shower, got teased, but even louder did he bawl! Both “Squall” and “Shower” vexed their brother “Cloud,” for Thunder Cloud by moodiness was led and always scowled at them for crying out loud! Great Thunder Head filled everyone with dread, but the wild son who proved the biggest sap came home infected. That was Thunder Clap!


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Happy Birthday Jenny (Kyrielle Sonnet)

Happy birthday to you Jenny
Hope your big day brings you plenty
Keep a bright smile all the way
Your mom sings your praises today

Soon you will be driving to school
Don’t forget to follow the rules
Enjoy your day with a buffet
Your mom sings your praises today

Happy birthday to you Jenny
Don’t forget to save your pennies
Wish on a star on your great day
Your mom sings your praises today

Happy birthday to you Jenny
Your mom sings your praises today

© Joseph, 8/20/2007
© All Rights Reserved

This is for the the daughter of our own poetess, Kathy.

The Kyrielle Sonnet is a French form from the Middle Ages. It has 14 lines (three 
rhyming quatrains and a non-rhyming couplet). It has a repeating line or phrase 
as a refrain in the last line of each stanza.  Each line within the Kyrielle Sonnet 
has eight syllables.  There are times when a French poem links back to the 
poem’s beginning; therefore, a common practice is to combine the first line of 
the first quatrain and the refrain in each quatrain as the ending couplet for the 
poem.


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Eternity

I am looking right at you and you don’t even know it.
I will deter your intent and throw you off a steep cliff.
But in the air will be my snuff and gruff you can sniff.
Eventually I will have some sort of mercy of just a bit.

Surely we are above empowering manners of tat for tit. 
Maybe I’ll light a scented candle and blow you my whiff.
Or maybe I will strand you grounding your bones to stiff.
Opposed or decomposed and still composed I won’t quit.

Upside down,
Inside or out,
I’ll throw down.
I am the clout.

Don’t mistake my identity,
Either or, it’s your eternity.

® Registered: Ann Rich   2009


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Tasted So Good

I ate some fried catfish and it tasted so good!
Just how good did that fried catfish taste?
It tasted so good it made a hound dog slap a bull dog.
That had to have been some mighty fine vittles.

I ate some fried chicken and it tasted so good!
Just how good did that fried chicken taste?
It tasted so good it made a wolf howl and a grizzly bear dance.
That had to have been some mighty fine vittles.

I ate some fried crawfish and it tasted so good!
Just how good did that fried crawfish taste?
It tasted so good it made an alligator turn a somersault.
That had to have been some mighty fine vittles.

I ate some fried rat and it tasted so bad!
I had to throw it all up in a brown paper bag.


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You Again

I look out the window and what do I see
Another five inches staring at me
I'm not getting angry nor am I sad
I am laughing so loudly I think I've gone mad

I am ready to go out for a 5k run
Or I might just lay out in the sun
That old fence out there could use some stain
This weather has caused me to go insane

Please come and slap me
For my mind is absentee
Come knock me to my senses 
Don't want to stain those fences

If this winter doesn't break free
It just might get the best of me





Details | Italian Sonnet | |

Sisterly Examples

When I was young, I had a great disdain
for Campell's nasty soup named Alphabet.
One Saturday it was our mother's threat
we had to eat it up or home remain
and miss the matinee. How inhumane!
Mom left the room; I never will forget
the thing which I'd repeat without regret -
I took that slop and tossed it down the drain!

When Mom returned, I'd "downed" all of my soup.
Again she left; Mel went to dump HER meal
and at the sink got caught. Poor nincompoop!
She missed "Red Riding Hood" while I, the heel,
went out. Our mom was left "out of the loop."
My little sister did not even squeal!

(Some slang words here for my non-native friends:
a "nincompoop" is a foolish person,
"out of the loop" means to never be aware of something
and the last verb "squeal" means to "tell on someone"
I always tried to get away with murder when I was young
and I can't believe my sister missed the movie by not telling
on me! On the other hand, I really enjoyed "Red Riding Hood" heehee)

For Frank H's 
A Childhood MEMORY Poetry Contest


Details | Sonnet | |

A Welcome For Timorous Tim

Poor Tim, the timorous, one cold dark day set out to prove that TIMID he was not! He ventured one whole night alone to stay inside the empty house his friends had sought. The house was old. . . unlocked, it beckoned Tim. He neared its door; his trepidation grew. His laughing friends grew silent watching him. He deeply breathed, then vanished from their view. Inside, Tim heard below the house a sound. He could not be a coward! With a sigh, he took the creaking stairway down and found before his eyes, a scraggly toothless guy who greeted, smilingly, the trembling lad: “It ain’t the Ritz, but welcome to my pad!” For the "Smile You're On Candid Camera Contest of vienna bombardieri


Details | Sonnet | |

Sweet pleasure

I slowly cut a corner off my prize
No cause to hurry, see I at this time
To savor, such a treat sees no despise
If one knows not this joy, that is a crime

The layers compliment this god-like cream
The smooth caress of chocolate is joy
The combination is much like a dream
My senses it so fully does employ

I do not need a house or any clothes
My mind is full of thoughts only to know
When next taste I the sweetness of my rose
But I would wait a hundred years of snow

If love is like this sweet patisserie,
I think my life consists of it and me.


Details | Sonnet | |

The Cell Phone Abusers

You’re at the intersection in your car,
that damn device held pressed against your ear.
You’re unaware, but we know who you are: 
the one away from whom we all will steer!

My class has barely started.  Suddenly,
inside the room is heard the strangest sound.
You leave - or worse - you talk right over me.
Is there no place a cell phone can’t be found?

I’m at the movies. Bleep, bleep, bleeping bleep.
Another one. . . and music starts to play!
And then you start conversing? Why, you creep,
you’re begging just to “make somebody’s day.”

Just turn it off!  You think we love your voice?
NO, Big Shot, we're just victims with no choice.

For Natalie Fllikkema's Contest:
Cellphones in the sauna...What annoys YOU? Poetry Contest


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Gambling Shuggy—The Encounter!

"If I feel physically,
            as if the top of my head been taken off, 
                     I know it's poetry."
                       --Emily Dickenson

          ~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~

No money no honey from this honey
You may look but won’t rub this fine tummy;
That maybe so, but I ain’t no dummy
Shining like gold—don’t you touch this Emmy!

Pay gone, drunk, smoky, come acting thuggy,
Don’t treat me like an Egyptian mummy;
You have nerves to tell me I look yummy
Step back—know that I will not be chummy!

Say what, you will find another bunny?
Git, to your saloon playing gin rummy;
Tonight I’m keeping safe my sweet plumy
Leave—before I pull my New York Jimmy!

Swiftly, before doorknob hit your bunny,
Shuggy—I ain’t got time tonight bummy!

© Joseph, November 28, 2008
© All Rights Reserved

~~~~~~~~~~~*******~~~~~~~~~~~
Poetry Soup International Poetry Contest
Semi-finalist Selection, Jan. 2009.
~~~~~~~~~~~*******~~~~~~~~~~~
Poetry Soup Weekly Featured Poem 
Sunday, May 24, 2009, to May 31, 2009
~~~~~~~~~~~*******~~~~~~~~~~~

Joseph S. Spence, Sr., is the author of "The Awakened One Poetics" (2009), which is 
published in seven different languages. He invented the Epulaeryu poetry form, which 
focuses on succulent cuisines and drinks. He is published in various forums, including the 
World Haiku Association; Poetinis Druskininku, Milwaukee Area College, Phoenix Magazine; 
Möbius Poetry, and Taj Mahal Review to name a few. Joseph is a Goodwill Ambassador for 
the state of Arkansas, USA, a college faculty, and a military veteran.

~~~~~~~~~~~*******~~~~~~~~~~~


Details | Sonnet | |

Pest Control --- Goodbye

Goodbye, farewell, adieu, please go away,
this house is mine. I will not share with you.
You see my cabinets as a buffet,
pay no rent, and use the floor as your loo.

You fail miserably as a roommate,
and I’ll be more than glad to see you gone.
Sinisterly gleeful about your fate,
I’m anxious for the curtains to be drawn.

No more ceaseless chattering though the night,
nor any more wires cleaved by rodent teeth.
I won’t fret on small eyes reflecting light,
or creatures hiding in my Christmas wreath.

Escape, or, if you prefer, you can die.
I don’t care which, as long as it’s Goodbye!


Details | Sonnet | |

Pillow Talk Abuse - Andrea Dietrich

PILLOW TALK ABUSE     (collaboration)


by~ Andrea Dietrich

Again you’re droning on and on and on. 
Yada, yada, yada, yada, yada. 
My time for beauty sleep will soon be gone. 
Why can’t you close your eyes? 
You know you oughta. 
Just press those lips together tight and zip! 
My lids are getting heavy as you talk. 
So now I offer you this little tip. 
Why don’t you go outside and take a walk? 
The clear night air might open up your mind.
Before you kill the bush you’re beating round. 
You’re killing ME; I hate to be unkind, 
But when I start to doze, I hear that sound . . . 
Yakety, yakety, yakety, yakety, yak. . . 
Please shut your trap. 
We’ve long since hit the sack!


by~ Poet Destroyer

Congratulations for thinking your work is done.
You may be tired  but you’re not the only one.
I sure hope you like spending your time all alone
All the young ones are grown and away from home.
So, I have no choice to yap yap yap' when you're around.
But, I do this to annoy, before my other annoying snoring sound.
Ever since I remember the beauty line is to late.
Don't forget my yapping mouth is what brings dinner to your plate?
But think of the funny way you want me to zip my lips tight.
My yakety yak is what gets me going through the night.
Retire your eyes else where, if you can't hear me out!
Wouldn't you rather me beat the bush, than to hear me shout.
Your ungrateful ways are like a sleeping pill.
Talking to you is like talking to a wall~ " oh! What a thrill!"
Maybe if you say a word or two, your mouth would put me to sleep
So my dear, talking to you is better than counting sheep.


A collaboration with * ANDREA DIETRICH

My collaboration contest


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Jobs: No Pleasure in the Measure

"Too young!", were the words, that everyone said While working our way to get a degree. First time on our own, and now, newlyweds Plus, looking for jobs, yet happy were we! In a brand new town, now, a brand new wife! Pinching our pennies, and dollars much more Hitting the sidewalk, .a busy new life. Finally, a job found, at Rolf's Clothing Store! Old geezers, would ask me "Would you help me, dear?" Keeping composure, ..(must not crack a grin!) "A suit, ...some undies: What size should I wear??" My tape-measure panics,..(where to begin?!!) Measuring inseams from crotch to the hem! Is not a task, I'll be wanting again !!!!
____________________________________________________ 11/12//14 For Sara's Contest: JOBS


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Once Upon A Time

Once a week the grandson comes to Granny's 
He loves to get special treats tucked away 
Searching every nook and little crannies
Then while he snacks he loves to play, play, play..

Last week his day at Granny's house involved
Outside play, some time reading tractor books
Then in a few minutes truck play evolved
Through all of them he loves to look and look

Then he left granny's house and headed home
With memories of what happened there
He wanted to talk to Granny on the phone
He asked," With what truck are you playing and where?"

I told him, " I'm not now playing with a truck
but with Neopet; soon I'll get the fire truck stuck."  

Sponsor: Francine Roberts
Contest: Tickle My Funny Bone
Written: March 12, 2014


Details | Sonnet | |

His future's So Bright

He sports some eye shades plastered to his nose.
In coolest clothes; with cell phone goes to town.
Perpetual is his strategic pose.
His glasses don’t come off when sun comes down.

He scans a crowded room for someone hot
on which to use some cheesy pick-up line
and show the ladies what finesse he’s got.
Too bad he’s never heard of “wine and dine!”

And every measly buck spent on a dame
he sees as a down payment on her "assets".
Shallowness could be his middle name
since his character has so few facets.

He tells his bimbo prey his future’s bright,
but even she just sighs and says, “Yeah, right.”


3/7/14


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A Sonnet On a Tough Girl

I never will forget in junior high this girl who was a two-faced friend of mine. I can’t remember now the reason why, but she got mad for something asinine. She said, “I’m gonna beat you up! Be at the park, beside the water tower.” She then told me, “Bet you won’t show up.” That brat was MEAN! All day I fretted needlessly of what could be a real bad episode! So after school with my best friend, I went And waited for that witch; she never showed! With great relief, I then began to vent to my best friend of things that we could do to that “tough girl” - a chicken through and through! *True story & dedicated to my junior high school foe, who later went on to marry (and then divorce) the brother of my BEST friend! To read more about what happened later on with me and her, please view "ABOUT THIS POEM" which can be seen by clicking in the left hand corner above the title of a poem. For Carol Brown's Poetry Contest: ORNERY BEST FRIENDS


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My craziest act

Once during those days when I was yet a teen I chose to be purposefully mean Sitting face to face with an important man I behaved as badly as a confused hen If I did open my mouth It was only to say filth Stony, I bid my soul to tell him I shall not speak, even if it goes against your whim! Enraged, he had me disgraced Angered, he had me not embraced Rather, on that day, I saw thunder Coming from the eyes of this leader! O wishful verse, thou art an ode to my memory Here goes to my account for loving to do the crazy!


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FUNNY BUN



                                             ***

                                  My story is full of plot

                               It'll surely amuse you a lot

                              From a shop a bun I bought

                            Stealthily without being caught


                              Rested for a while in the cot

                               I was tired pretty no doubt

                            Soon with my wife yes I fought

                              Since  she wanted pizza hot


                            She was angry for I was a blot

                         Soon poured water on me with pot

                          Suddenly I woke from the bed rot

                        Only to douse her anger I thought


                         Moral is must for teacher and tot

                           Of course come might what..!!


                                             ***



Details | Sonnet | |

Bad Teacher - 80's Style

Some ooglay dweeb-o-rama after school went and caught me mashing with my boy toy (a stella stud, I kid you not -mad cool!) Geek said, “He’s half your age!” I said, “No DOY!” Before that tard could gag me out the door, I told him, “Hey, step off and bag your face.” Then he spazzed out and said I was a whore. For real?? I’d barely got to second base! Suck! Geek finally booked it; then my stud put on some jams and everything was SCWHEET! We vegged out on the couch and shared a bud, then later played New Wave, grooved to the beat. My dude is wicked, and the zeek was right: I’m sure not young, but OH, how young the night! ** I have composed a list of definitions for all the 80's slang words and phrases. Just click on "About this Poem" Written by Andrea Dietrich For craig cornish's "Talk That Way" Poetry Contest (My decade of course is the 80's)


Details | Sonnet | |

Sunday Sonnet

Yes, to have a month of Sundays, I think
that would be the solution to Monday.
To skip the rest of the week with a wink
and eliminate all problems today.
Yes, I think that would be the solution.
No more stress or strain or auto commute.
Just a day of total absolution.
A month like this we could all salute!
A month of Sundays, the prospect boggles!
Home and family and visiting friends,
no more news related ugly hassles,
and no more errands to the earth's ends.
Yes, to daydream of a month of Sundays
and avoid the issues of the real days


Details | Sonnet | |

The Pale Pink Rose At Dawn

As I desire outside just at daybreak
Watch the sleepy sun rise in the mist
So I'll go out, get tools_leaves rake
An excuse to watch that sun rise_my risk

Then I see that one Pale Pink Running Rose
The one deserving its picture taken
I'll get the camera_rose will pose
Leaving chore__leaf raking forsaken

Maybe I'll cachinnate_hide from work
I'll beek in sun think of shenanigan
Go to creek_try to see fish through murk
Couchant posture dip fingers _ dawn began

The anacoluthia of these lines
Requires couchant posture very fine


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The Masticator

Some folks like food that’s smooth to touch their lips; which does not come in chunks or crunchy sticks. They take their tea in leisurely small sips or eat ice cream with lots of tiny licks. I rarely ask for smoothies or for yogurt, for puddings or for bland and jiggling jello. I much prefer the entrees to dessert and something hearty over something mellow. To salty, crunchy foods I gravitate: popcorn and potato chips and nachos, and on my plate some food to masticate: pasta, pizza, burgers, fries or tacos. A large hot soup can soothe my appetite if served with lots of crackers I can BITE! For the Teenager Entertainment Poetry Contest