Funny Ballad Poems | Funny Poems About Ballad

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Details | Ballad |

The Ballad Of Prospector Pete

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 a-lookin' for!

Entry for Jesse Day's "Tell A Tall Tale" Contest

Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw | Year Posted 2012

Details | Ballad |

The bawdy ballad of Robin Hood

Oooh Miss Whiplash 
Hit me with your cane 
Oooh Miss Whiplash 
Make me feel the pain 
and if I beg for mercy 
Please hit me once again 
Oooh Miss Whiplash
Hit me with your cane .

The merry men are captured 
and placed in the castle stocks
Tights pulled down around their ankles
They are wearing them like socks
For Prince John has hired Miss Whiplash
Telling her to whip their butts
but Robin hood is excited 
and can't keep his mouth shut .

Oooh Miss whiplash 
Hit me with your cane 
Oooh Miss Whiplash
make me feel the pain 
and if I beg for mercy 
Please hit me once again 
Oooh Miss Whiplash
Hit me with your cane .

Punishment is over 
The merry men set free 
Robin vows to rob the rich 
Until he rids Nottingham of poverty
but he knows his men need discipline 
To keep them on the right track
So he has kidnapped Miss Whiplash
and he's never going to give her back .

Oooh Miss Whiplash 
Hit me with your cane 
Oooh Miss Whiplash 
Make me feel the pain 
and if I beg for mercy 
Please hit me once again 
Oooh Miss Whiplash
Hit me with your cane . 

The wealthy have been so greedy 
Taxation so unfair 
Robin and his Merry men 
Are hero worshipped everywhere
The poor can have the money 
His men distribute it with care 
but Miss Whiplash he keeps for himself 
He's just not willing to share . 

Oooh Miss Whiplash
Hit me with your cane 
Oooh Miss Whiplash
Make me feel the pain
and if I beg for mercy 
Please hit me once again 
Oooh Miss Whiplash
Hit me with your cane .

For the Robin Hood Contest .
Sponsor Isaiah Zerbst.

Copyright © DARREN WATSON | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |

The Ballad Of 'Soapy' Smith

Jefferson Randolph 'Soapy' Smith was the wiliest scoundrel in the west!
He was invited to leave numerous towns since he wasn't a welcome guest!
He swindled gullible dudes throughout the west endin' up in Colorado,
Where he earned the sobriquet 'Soapy' and where he found his El Dorado!

He'd set up a soap display on a Denver street and invite folks to gather 'round.
His spiel began: "Buy a bar for a dollar and inside money may be found!"
The rush was on and suckers fought to buy bars of soap, gamblin' on a win!
Cops were even called to the scene to maintain order and to quell the din!

Folks tore at wrappers and one feller hollered, "I got a hundred dollar bill!"
Little did the unsuspectin' boobs know that it was 'Soapy's' planted shill!
Dupes lost their dough and with a five-cent bar of soap they were stuck,
He pulled the scam time and again and that's how "Soapy's' name was struck!

'Soapy' pulled up stakes in Denver and migrated to other towns out west.
He was successful with the soap scam and was adept at hidin' aces in his vest!
He made his way to Creede where he established the Orleans Gamblers Saloon.
There, 'Soapy' was involved in nefarious affairs and left town none too soon!

The gold rush was on in the Yukon and he pined to go there ere it was too late.
He arrived in Skagway and later on in Juneau where he was to meet his fate.
'Soapy' met his end in a gunfight and his final words were, "My God, don't shoot!"
Thus ends the ballad of 'Soapy' Smith, that swindlin', cheatin', rotten galoot!

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

Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw | Year Posted 2011

Details | Narrative |

The Ballad of Gaston

Relaxing in my very own, rustic tavern
Pondering with a mug full of beer
After a day of hunting in a dark cavern
With my latest kill of a rare deer

Standing around on a bear rug was LeFou
Chatting non-stop with his usual big mouth
Most of the time, he's such a complete fool
Why do I even bother having him around...

Antlers in all of my interior decorating
What's all really there for?
As there's only one thing on wanting
The most beautiful girl I could crave for

It's going to be my precious trophy
To have her and claim her as my wife
She'll never refuse me, I'm so manly
This is a must-win prize of my life

Everyone in town will always adore me
My beautiful muscles, strong must go on
The most intimidating, definitely got to be
YES! No one is more perfect than Gaston!

Copyright © Nileisha Giselle Deliz Diana | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |

Ballad Of Boris Blood

(To the tune of Robin Hood)

Boris Blood Boris Blood
Mayor of London town
Boris Blood Boris Blood
Some say he;s a clownl

Takes off the poor
Gives to the rich
Boris Blood Boris Blood.

Boris Blood Boris Blood
Went to public school
Boris Blood Boris Blood
So who does he fool

Takes from the poor
Gives to the rich
Boris Blood Boris Blood.

Boris Blood Boris Blood
Claims he does care
Boris Blood Boris Blood
Says he is being fair

Takes from the poor
Gives to the rich
Boris Blood Boris Blood.

Copyright © Ken Duddle | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |

The Ballad Of Poker Alice

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
July 2011

Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw | Year Posted 2011

Details | Ballad |

Ballad of Bad Doggie

Sing to tune of "Teen Angel" if you are old enough to know that tune!

That fateful night we brought you home,
you looked so sweet and cute,
but when I sat you on my lap,
you pooped on my new suit.

We realized you were still young;
you needed to be trained.
But after months of accidents,
our carpets all were stained.

Bad doggie, so annoying,
what now - are you destroying?
Are you dead or doing well
and putting someone else through hell?

We hired a professional
to help us deal with you.
But nothing worked, and even worse,
you then began to chew.

Ignoring bones, you chewed our shoes,
our walls, our chairs, the gate!
And so we had to keep you in
a store-bought plastic crate!

Bad doggie, so annoying,
what now - are you destroying?
Are you dead or doing well
and putting someone else through hell?

You yelped and howled inside your cage.
We put you out in back.
But in the yard you barked and barked
like some crazed maniac.

And then you started digging holes.
You dug through dirt and grass.
You got away and then you bit
our neighbor on the ass.

Bad doggie, so annoying,
what now - are you destroying?
Are you dead or doing well
and putting someone else through hell?

We paid the neighbor's doctor bill
and paid a hefty fine.
But tied up barking in the back,
you made the neighbors whine.

And so we took you to the pound.
The last I heard was that. .  
you fled, and while they search for you,
we've gone and bought a cat!

Bad doggie, so annoying,
what now - are you destroying?
Are you dead or doing well
and putting someone else through hell?

(bad doggie, bad doggie. . . please don't return)

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2010

Details | I do not know? |


Douglas the dog 
was a cute little chap
with a nice blue collar
and spots on his back,
with his puppy dog eyes 
he would make you smile
and give him a hug 
every once in a while.

He was very well known
for his bold and brave deeds
and he always helped out 
any people in need.
He could often be seen 
walking down the road
with peoples shopping 
and other heavy loads.

He once helped a kitten 
who was stuck up a tree
by climbing to the top
past a hive of busy bees,
then holding the baby
gently in his jaws
he struggled back down 
to a round of applause.

Then there was the time 
he swam out in the lake
to rescue some cookies 
that his neighbour had baked.
She’d dropped the large tub 
whilst crossing a bridge
but soon they were all 
safely back in her fridge.

Everybody loved him
and patted his back
whenever the saw him 
walking down the track.
The children would smile
and shout with joy
hugging his neck, saying, 
“What a good boy!”

One day he fell ill;
had to stay in his bed,
so they took it in turns 
to stroke his soft head.
Everyone worried
and did all they could
to help him get better 
as quick as he could.

Before very long 
he was back on his feet
and everyone cheered 
as he walked down the street.
They hugged him and stroked him 
and said he was ace
so he answered their praise 
by licking their face.

Written by Darren Scanlon, 16th September 2015.
Revised 13th May 2016
©2016 Darren Scanlon. All rights reserved.

Copyright © Darren Scanlon | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme |

The Ballad Of Candy

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 the 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
Placement: none
second contest placement: 2nd

*** This is a true story.  The pup was a 65 pound Golden Retriever.  Think about that 
for a bit.

Copyright © Paula Swanson | Year Posted 2010

Details | Cowboy |

' Outlaw Ballad ... ' (Part 1 of 2) (Cowboy Poem # 9)

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 ! …

        Outlaw !
Armed and Dangerous
        Outlaw !
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) ! …

        Outlaw !
# 1 On Our Wanted List …
        Outlaw !
They Told Me You Never Miss ! …
        Outlaw !
… 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 ! …

        Outlaw !
$ 10,000.00 Reward
        Outlaw !
A Dollar, For Each Broken Heart
        Outlaw !
… Better Get A Head-Start …
        Outlaw !


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? …
                                Outlaw …

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 ! …

        Outlaw !
Look At That Brim …
        Outlaw !
Cocked-Low, Like A Trigger-Rim …
        Outlaw !
… 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 !!! …

        Outlaw !
I Shoot Straight From A Curve-Hip …
        Outlaw !
You Won’t Get To Give Me The Slip …
        Outlaw !
You’re Gonna Get Wild-Whipped …
        Outlaw !


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)

Copyright © MoonBee Canady | Year Posted 2009

Details | Rhyme |

The Ballad of Jeremiah Macabenta

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
   arranged conformingly.
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
   Jeremiah Macabenta, 
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
   at that—
so to the King's dinner, an
   invitation, he got.

Back to the feast, after servings
   were done, 
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
   Jeremiah's place, 
exposing two pieces of meat
   he hid under his plate; 
caught red-handed, he'd only
   sheepishly grin, 
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
   clearly distinguished
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
   endlessly stuffed, 
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.

Copyright © Robert Uy | Year Posted 2012

Details | Rhyme |

BALLAD OF LOCAL DINER tune of davey crockett

Open everyday, at the crack of dawn,
Servin’ eggs and bacon, til there gone,
Pots of coffee, with lots of cream,
Dealin’ with the “help”, makes ya wanna scream.
Lo - cal, Lo- cal Diner, Best lil’ place in town.

Now there’s janet, the bosses daughter,
Sometime she heps, by bringin’ ya water,
Runs the show, when Frank aint around,
Cross her path, and you’re goin’ down.
Lo - cal, Lo - cal Diner, Best mind ya Ps and Qs..

Kelly has a secret, we all know,
Passed on to us, by another jo,
That aint all, but it’ll do for now,
Come on down, and enjoy the chow.
Lo - cal, Lo - cal Diner, Your secret get around.

There’s a lil’ blonde, works here too,
Straight short hair, and eyes of blue,
Probably lives close, just about a mile,
The tips she’d get, if she’d just smile.
Lo - cal, Lo - cal Diner, We pull no punches here.

Now the patrons sumptin’, ya gotta know,
Comin’ for breakfast, whether rain or snow,
They come here to eat, nothing’ else ‘round,
Day old biscuits, just throw’em on the ground.
Lo - cal, Lo - cal Diner,  A critic in e’er booth.

Billy and Keith, then there’s me,
If ya can count, that makes three,
All very different, as you can see,
Keith’s the only one who set his hair free,
Lo - cal, Lo - cal Diner, I’m not far behind Keith.

If that wasn’t funny, read a little bit,
Billy hasa tic, ya can’t miss it,
Tappin’ his fingers, on the table top,
It drives me crazy, but he still won’t stop.
Lo - cal, Lo - cal Diner, Billy just taps and grins.

Well here comes Frank, Sunday at nine,
“Please Wait To Be Seated”, silly ole sign,
Just seat yourself, when he is around,
His innuendo’s, will put you down,
Lo - cal, Lo - cal Diner, Ya don’t wanna be a “Frank”.

Copyright © Sammy Holt Sr | Year Posted 2005

Details | I do not know? |


In the deep dark woods
lived a great brown bear,
he was seven feet tall
but the townsfolk didn’t care
for although the bear was huge
and had fangs and long sharp claws,
all the people would make fun of him
and point out his big flaw.
Have you ever met a bear
who had nothing much to say,
who couldn’t even growl
when he came outside to play?
Well, Bob was his name
and no matter how he tried,
when he opened his big mouth
all he managed was a sigh.
Now in a nearby village
lived a little girl called Sal,
she liked the big old bear
and they’d grown to be good pals.
She was never afraid of Bob
for she loved him well and true,
she was sure he’d never hurt her,
he was gentle through and through.
 “I going to stop them laughing”, 
decided Sal one sunny day,
“They're no longer making fun
of my dear friend that way!”?
So she came up with a plan
that was certain to succeed
and when the crowd arrived,
she sneaked up into a tree.
When poor old Bob stood up tall
and he raised his great big paws,
showing to all the people
he had long and dangerous claws,
little Sal gave the loudest roar
from the top of her tiny lungs
as he opened his enormous mouth
showing them fierce looking fangs.?
The people jumped and screamed
and then ran for their dear lives,
falling over wooden fences
and some buzzing bee hives.
The bees came out and cried,
“What a terrible thing to do!”
and they chased them even further
with the threat of a sting or two.
Bob and Sal just laughed and laughed
as she dropped down from the tree?
landing right upon his back,
how they giggled with such glee.
“I bet they'll all be hiding now
and wondering with a scowl,
where on earth did that silly bear
get his loud and fearsome growl?”
Sal gave Bob a last big hug
and bade her friend goodnight.
“Didn't we both give them
such a terrible old fright?
Lets do it again tomorrow
and watch them scream and run
from a poor old sighing bear,
who is really such good fun”.

Written by Darren Scanlon, 27th May 2014.
Revised 1st September 2015.
Artwork by Angie Caira.
©2015 Darren Scanlon. All rights reserved.

Copyright © Darren Scanlon | Year Posted 2015

Details | Cowboy |

' Outlaw Ballad ... ' (Part 2 of 2) (Cowboy Poem # 9)

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 ! …

            Outlaw !
Are You That Hot-Bloodied, Heart Killer ? …
            Outlaw !
Well, You Look A Lot Like Him, Mister …
            Outlaw !
… 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 !

Copyright © MoonBee Canady | Year Posted 2009

Details | Ballad |

Write Me a Ballad

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.

Copyright © Mike Samford | Year Posted 2007