Best Parody Poems
Below are the all-time best Parody poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of Parody poems written by PoetrySoup members
View ALL
Parody
Poems
Search for Parody poems, articles about Parody poems, poetry blogs, or anything else Parody poem related using the PoetrySoup search engine at the top of the page.
Definition & Discussion of Parody Poems
Read Parody Poems
See also:
Best Famous Poems
|
Details |
Parody
Poem
80 Proof Nights
A foggy Cuervo morning
I crawl out of my bed
Stagger to the bathroom
With a pounding in my head
It’s just another Sunday
Things can’t get much worse
I think i’ll write a poem
Yes, another drunken verse
Tiny glass of 80 proof
What courage you gave me
To dance upon a table
While crooning karaoke
I truly thought that I could sing
I could hear the people cheer
Then I lost my footing
And fell right on my rear
Now falling off of tables
Isn't really all that dumb
Cause I got such a chuckle
Telling everyone to kiss my bum
I kissed a man I didn’t know
You think that’s absurd
Well his wife was rather angry
When I flipped her the big ol bird
When Jose takes control of me
I have no pride or shame
Doesnt really matter much
Cause no one knows my name
I drank until the wee hours
Things were going great
Until that final shot of gold
That sealed my eveings fate
I spent some time talking
On a ice cold porceline phone
If I survive this night
Tomorrow I will atone
Well today is tomorrow
So forgive me for my sin
Never again will I drink tequila
Instead I’m drinking gin
|
Details |
Parody
Poem
From My Window Lofty High
From my window lofty high
I sit and watch the passersby
Safely from within the womb
Of this quiet and private room
That's my asylum in the sky
And, I imagine...
From the safety of my perch
Above the elm, the oak, and birch
Alone, I slowly drift through life
Exempt from conflict, chance, or strife
Away from any harmful search
And, I imagine...
From my pinnacle of peace
Much like the eagle, lark, and geese
I wrap myself in solitude
Safely from the multitudes
And their evils that never cease
And, I imagine...
I imagine a world of peace and good
With people living as people should
A world glowing with brotherly love
That's flowing down from God above
With all faiths tolerantly understood
But then...
From my window lofty high
I'm left alone to wonder why
Why the world became so cold
And, why compassion can't unfold
Out there perhaps a soul could try
But here alone,
...I can only imagine.
Timothy I. Brumley
|
Details |
Parody
Poem
A Modern Curse
I do not like your mobile phone.
I do not like its ringing tone.
I do not like it here nor there;
I do not like it any where.
I do not like it on a plane,
nor when I’m on a crowded train;
not in a bus, not in a car,
not even in a crowded bar.
I do not want to hear it ping
or, even worse, Madonna sing.
I do not like the sound of pop;
that wretched noise has got to stop.
So let me make this mighty clear,
your phone, I do not want to hear.
And, should it ever start to ring,
I’ll come and smash the wretched thing.
~
'On the Loose' Contest for G.Rix
|
Details |
Parody
Poem
Sweet Suburbia
Driving down the street,
sweet suburbia exhales,
scents of butter pecans
and apple blossoms penetrate the wind,
but secrets hide behind this serene atmosphere.
Momma's passed out on the couch,
Jack's become her best friend.
She has numbed out the pain around her,
rejects the truth.
Bobby loves his gun,
he knows how to make it all come to an end.
One day he'll have the courage,
and take everyone else with him.
Suzy hides in her closet,
she doesn't want daddy to find her,
have his ways like he does.
She just wants to fade away and die.
Papa's working late,
thinking of his sweet desert,
no one knows the world he creates,
while he pushes reality away.
Mittens sits in the windowsill,
watches the strangers pass by,
his tail twitching back and forth,
the only thing that knows the truth behind the doors.
While the house silently cries,
the world will still drive by.
Smell the sweetness in the wind,
be hypnotized,
by a sweet suburban lie.
|
Details |
Parody
Poem
I'm Dreaming of a New Body
Parody of the Xmas Song: White Christmas
I'm dreaming of a new body
with every chocolate I unwrap.
But I can't stop eating, I can't stop cheating.
There's just too many Christmas snacks.
My nightmare is a pot belly -with every Christmas treat I take.
But I can't stop feasting, my size increasing;
when I stand on the scales they'll break.
Yes, I'm dreaming of a trim waistline,
so take that chex mix from my face.
May my buns be smaller and flat,
and may all my body lose its fat!
(I no longer make my traditional chex mix and
many candies I used to cook for the holidays!~)
|
Details |
Parody
Poem
Raindrops
Raindrops
are like my thoughts
falling down into my mind
sending goose bumps down
my spine
Their cool aftermath
cleanses me of my thoughts
of fear and uncertainty
about what tomorrows
pain may bring
They make me feel,
wet with creativity
drenched in my optimistic
illumination. glistening
raindrops, my thoughts
leave paths of pleasurable
distress, and hope of success
which road, less traveled
may be the best
Forget an umbrella
when these raindrops
arrive, I walk outside
arms open wide
Ready to Receive
whatever
the mind storm may bring
because raindrops are
as my thoughts, falling
down into my mind
sending shivers down
my spine
My brain, yearns
for the rain, to wash away
the pain, tomorrows worry
does bring
One special drop
could speed up life's clock
to the time
I can handle my own
and not dwell inside my controllers
home
For raindrops are,
like my thoughts
falling down into my mind
sending goose bumps
down my spine
|
Details |
Parody
Poem
Recycle
The grasshopper left the corn
For the dawn of the baobab tree
The elders brought flowers
For the floor of the ages past
And the door of ages to come
Grasshopper's heart stridulated
In awe. Its mandibles move
To shred its doubt in questions.
The elders stood silent
Before the open palm spooning
The eyes for a taste of wisdom:
"Patience," said the elders.
The elders ears buzzed
With the sounds of futile wings
Longing for the flight of freedom
"Grow your conscience," spoke
The elders in the morning smoke
Of dew where the heart
Of flora and fauna is burning.
And I was left nothing there
But corn blades bitten bare
To the ground, and a path
Through the desert sands of wrath
That beckons me to where
I will sit in the elders' chair
Weaving syllables out of air
And searching for reason
Beside the stillness of the heart.
I am the recycled question
Waiting for answer in a flower's
Bed sown with eyes of treason.
|
Details |
Parody
Poem
Pondering
As I ponder my weak bladder, you see.
I travel around the corner from thee.
Be careful if around the corner you go.
Please for your sake, watch for yellow snow.
|
Details |
Parody
Poem
TROLIUS TROLL
Remember the story
of Billy Goats Gruff?
The troll under the bridge,
and all of that stuff?
If you liked that old story
it's all good and well,
but it isn't at all
the troll tale I will tell.
Now, Trolius Troll
was a timorous soul;
A more timid troll
you never shall see.
He lived in a hole
in the base of the bole,
(that is, the trunk)
of a turpentine tree.
Young Trolius Troll,
I ask you to note,
is a strict vegetarian;
he does not eat goat.
You might not believe me,
but, begging your pardon,
he eats only produce
from his vegetable garden.
One day, after harvesting
some of his crop,
with a basket of turnips,
with some carrots on top,
he strode up the path,
just as proud as could be,
toward his home in the trunk
of the turpentine tree.
Then, outside the door
of his pine tree abode,
was a sight that made
Trolius Troll drop his load.
There, with a chainsaw
and a double-bit ax,
stood a brawny, black bearded,
blue eyed lumberjack.
With his feet wide apart
on the green, grassy ground,
the lumberjack looked
the troll's tree up and down--
Then, laying the ax
on a moist, mossy bank,
he gave the saw's start rope
a sudden, sharp yank.
With a white puff of smoke
and an ear splitting sound,
the saw shattered the silence
for acres around.
The lumberjack stepped
to the tree's sturdy base
with a smile of delight
on his black-bearded face.
Then, the usually timorous
troll gave a shout,
and, pounding his chest,
he went leaping about.
With a wild snarl of rage
and a blood chilling wail,
the once timid Trolius
charged up the trail.
The brave lumberjack
was stricken with awe.
He turned from the tree,
and dropped the chain saw.
Through the ferns and the bushes
the tree feller ran.
and he never returned
to the forest again.
And so ends a story,
that some might find droll,
of a timid and timorous
tree dwelling troll.
But its message is clear,
it’s as clear as can be:
You may monkey about with Trolius, friend,
but you’d better not mess with his tree.
|
Details |
Parody
Poem
Nasty girl
There you go again doing things that you are not suppose to be in and then you look at
me like oh i'm so sweet if you only knew I can be a freak without showing it. Here they
go listening to the rumors but i'm your friend so in the end I know that they are true.
How could you do that with him and her and they were on the ground you were pretending to
pick up gum? You need to be safe, making out with strangers girl I aint no saint but god
what are you doing? I don't want to see you years from now telling me you got aids, I
worry about you and I feel like your special so I even wrote about you come on look how
much you mean to me. You like him I get it but how many other guys have you liked in the
past. He's your only, he's a phony make sure he's not just in it for the prize because
girl you never know some guys are. It's the truth and you need to listen, I don't mean to
sound bossy but soon enough your name is going to be posted on all the bathrooms walls.
Telling things that you haven't even done yet. But you will front about it, Lie again.
Telling everyone it's happened how do we know what's real or fake. I love your
personality I wish I could steal it, Your loud, and flirty, daring and smart girl you got
too much heart to be showing it to everyone who wants a sip. this is for all the nasty
girls out there who think I don't know what i'm saying just ask anyone of them who are
dead now or are on the streets prostitiuting. Don't be afraid to be a freak it's healthy
but sometimes it's better when it's secret closet freaks have more fun.
|
|
|
|