Funny Dad Poems

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

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Details | Light Poetry |
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.

Copyright © Tony Lane | Year Posted 2011

Details | Rhyme |
Where has dad gone, momma dear?
Hush, my little lamb.
Your dad's gone to the thicket dear 
And mad old Abraham

That man went early this grim morn, and took his sharpened knife
And with him took his own first born, to offer up his life
With servants and with firewood, both, they journeyed to Moriah
And on the hillside there they built an altar and a fire

And Isaac, when he heard the plan, went willingly, it's odd
That he should let that daft old man, so worship his cruel god.
Your father, he was passing by, and heard but could not see
And foolishly could not deny his curiosity

So closer did your father scramble peering through the thorns
Unaware of how the brambles tangled with his horns
Just to see a crazy man who planned to kill his kin
Your father did not understand the danger he was in

For then again that mad old man started hearing voices
His god was speaking to the loon and giving him new choices
And so his plan to slay the boy came about to falter
And Abraham, he took your pa and dragged him to the altar

But that was never fair, mama, can you tell me why
When Isaac he was all prepared and well prepared to die
And all had been decided on, so what cruel trick mama
Was played upon that grand old ram, who was my own papa?

Life is not fair, my little lamb, nor is it like to change
And fate plays tricks on all of us, both sinister and strange
So you take care, my little lamb, with this advice from me 
Do not visit places where you know you should not be

The moral of this story dear, is take heed of the odds
And stay away from two-leggies worshipping their gods

Copyright © Lee Leon | Year Posted 2011

Details | Light Poetry |
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.

Copyright © Tony Lane | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse |
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!"

Copyright © Sarah Cassleman | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |
Written 7 March 2014

Bruce and Jennie, both were 10,
Had been playmates all their lives.
One day, Bruce proclaimed,
“Jennie… most good men have wives.”

He professed his love for her.
Jennie said she loved him too.
They decided that getting married
Was ‘the right thing’  to do.

So, Bruce went to speak to her father,
Who was doing yard work at the time.
“May I speak to you, Mr. Johnson?”
“Sure, Bruce. What’s on your mind?”

“Sir, I love your Jennie;
And Jennie, she loves me;
But we need your permission
To be married… to be “We.”

Impressed by Bruce’s courage,
He knew this confrontation must be tough.
He smiled and asked, “Bruce, are you sure
You love my daughter enough?”

Bruce’s face became stern, he said,
“Mr. Johnson, let me tell you…
I love Jennie so much…and she loves me.
We’re both sure it’s the right thing to do.”

He was moved by Bruce’s ardor,
But permission was not his to give.
So, quick as flash, he responded,
“But Bruce…where will you live?” 

“Sir, I measured her room;
Then I measured mine.
Hers is 40 percent bigger.
We’ll live there.  We’ll be fine.

If we have extra stuff,
We’ll keep that in my room.
We’ll keep our places neat and tidy.
You won’t even need a broom.

And both our parents can save money 
On babysitters too.
Even if you do things on the same night,
You’ll only need one sitter, not two.”

Mr. Johnson was impressed with his logic,
But this marriage idea was no longer funny.
He smiled and said, “That’s good thinking, Bruce;
But what are you gonna do for money?

“Why, Mr. Johnson, I get twelve-fifty a week allowance;
And let me remind you, Jennie also gets ten.
Throw in our birthdays and Christmas cash….
Why, we might even have money to lend.”

Desperate now, he thought, 
“Next, I guess they’ll want a car.”
Then he asked, “But Bruce, what if you have kids?”
"Aawww," blushed Bruce... “We’ve been lucky so far.”

Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014

Details | Light Poetry |
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

Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2013

Details | Iambic Pentameter |
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. 

Copyright © David Fisher | Year Posted 2013

Details | Verse |
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.

Copyright © Karan Patade | Year Posted 2013

Details | Light Poetry |
Otay! I’m an alien, toe what?
I used to wive on the pwanet Pwuto
Too told! TOE, I fwew to the moon
BOOOW-ING! (Eveeting too white!)
Toe I fwuttered down to Waw Tageles
Where I betame a BIG movie tar

Dey trew a party for my pwemier
but a bwack fuwwy fewine cwashed it!
Yep, I taw dat puddy-tat teak in too
Den he tunned me wit his tun gun!
Wucky for me, I dot away tumhow 
Now I got dis widdle speech intetiment…

PS: Ewmer Fudd and me have become wather cwose since then because he had a 
similar expewience when Bugs Bunny conked him on the head with an oversized 

Copyright © Tim Ryerson | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |
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!"

Copyright © Neva Romaine | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |
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

Copyright © Dr.Ram Mehta | Year Posted 2010

Details | Limerick |
There once was a pilot from Alpine
Who became a father in month nine
Took her to the hangar
Where inside he did bang ‘er
But like his plane, didn’t pull out in time

Copyright © Joe Flach | Year Posted 2011

Details | I do not know? |
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!

Copyright © JW Earnings | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |
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

Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw | Year Posted 2012

Details | Blank verse |
He died forty
with strength and wit
He left a son Young and young

He died nighty 
With bones no teeth
He left a boy pale and forty

They meet in paradise
Dad still forty
Son at nighty
Dad thought it was grand pa
Son thought he was grand son
Who had died also

Copyright © Rodgers Roger | Year Posted 2014

Details | Lyric |
Dad came home from work
in the middle of the night
only to find the kitchen light
had burnt out.
He’d have to eat his Wheaties
in the dark.
What he didn’t know
because he was hungry and tired
and couldn’t see well
was that he had poured himself
a bowl of cat food.
Not even sugar and milk
could hide the evidence
once he put that first spoonful
in his mouth.
That was the night
we were startled from sleep
by the roar of the king 
of the house!

May 6, 2016
for Story Poem Contest

Copyright © Rita A. Simmonds | Year Posted 2016

Details | Limerick |

I first learned to dance when I was four
But my kids won't let me do it no more
They say I look like a perv
The way I wiggle a swerve
They say I even embarrass the floor

Copyright © Larry Belt | Year Posted 2010

Details | Rhyme |
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

Copyright © Fritz Purdum | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |

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.

Copyright © Mark Friedman | Year Posted 2015

Details | Couplet |
<                               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


Copyright © Katherine Stella | Year Posted 2010

Details | Rhyme |
When Dad is a Biology Major

By Elton Camp

I liked to give an answer complete
With specific details to be replete

Child’s, “What are girls made of?”
Brought information too far above

C, H, N, O and not too many more
The explanation proved to be a bore

Nitrogenous bases purine & pyrimidine
Are found in the DNA molecule I mean

Adenine, guanine, thymine, cytosine
With P and deoxyribose sugar are seen

In this wonderful helix they all lie
“Daughter, you can see it if you try.”

My answer was far too complex
About replication, gametes and sex

Since all she was really asking to hear
Was repeat of a nursery rhyme, I fear

Copyright © Elton Camp | Year Posted 2011

Details | Rhyme |
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

Copyright © Sidney Hall Mad Poet | Year Posted 2011

Details | Rhyme |
Dear Mom & Dad: It’s Wednesday already

Dear Mom & Dad: 

We started the day with laughter 
Things seemed a little bit stranger
Seems “Humpday’s the “normal” day 
To do underwear  shorts re-arranger.

Oldbuck had told us early on
Boys:  “Jock Itch” is all about
So half way through breakfast
We all turned them inside out.

I guess most guys thought like me
You must get that itch from horse riding
Short boys can grow to be jockeys
But at this camp no horse was residing

Also, I’ve got  good news and bad.
I didn’t think that I could hold it back
Tell another day was done
And I’d be resting here in the sack. 

You see mom, I’m no longer a vegan
I’ve tasted those processed meats
There is nothing in the world like that
I can’t wait to share some meat treats.

They say at camp the word “Bacon”
That’s really Australian for “flavor”
Cause everything I’ve tried with it
Is another thing I’ll always savor.

I said the news might bring some bad
This message is now directed at dad.
For now when you make you secret run
To the local fast-food, I’ll be glad.

For I will have tried much of their stuff
I’ll know the vast choices they’ve there.
We won’t be held in long lines making picks
We’re soon back in the car with our share. 

Who could have guessed
When you folks dropped me here
How much I would learn
In just a short week, not a year. 

Having a great time, your camper, Buddy

Copyright © Old buck | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme |
Badder Day

I woke up this morning
so cold I'm almost jerking.
My house was almost freezing
my furnace wasn't working.

I stepped outside to take a ride
and stopped where I was at.
All four of my truck tires
and my spare was flat.

I fired up my motor
in my truck parked in the street.
And relished in the moment
as I started feeling heat.

Pulling off my jacket
when the next thing that I knew.
Steam was going everywhere
my heater hose just blew.

I could not believe my luck
I couldn't get it through my head.
I tried to call my mother
but my cell phone had gone dead.

Then I turned in time to see
this poor girl with her dad.
I suddenly felt better
my day don't look so bad.

Edwin C Hofert

Copyright © Edwin Hofert | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |
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.                                                                             

Copyright © lola barron | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |
The situation that my pappy is in has gone from bad to worse.
It all started on the day when he began to carry a purse.
Things got really bad when I went to his house and saw him wearing a dress.
He says that he's a woman who's trapped inside a man's body, it is a mess.
Pappy has also started wearing high heel shoes and using make-up.
It's embarrassing when a man's dad leaves lipstick on coffee cups.
My pappy said that I shouldn't feel ashamed because of his new clothes.
But it really draws attention when a man wears a mini skirt and panty hose.
When people see my pappy, they point and laugh at him.
Then I get arrested because I beat the crap out of them.
Pappy asked me not to beat up anybody else because it's an awful sin.
I told him that I'll have to fight until he either has a sex change or behaves like a man again.

(This is a fictional poem.)

Copyright © randy johnson | Year Posted 2016

Details | Couplet |
Chicken, potatoes, and cold pumpkin pies
The food on the table is covered with flies

White ones and red ones and black ones and blue
Just look at that mountain of laundry to do

Dishes and pot lids and pans that are green
Oh, look at this pile of dishes to clean

Here there is carpet but there there is none
I wish that this pile of garbage was done

Smudges on windows and dents in the doors
Remains from the hundreds of food fights and wars

Couches all tattered and furred by the cats
A mound of cracked snow boots and sweaty old hats

Dishes or laundry or piles of goo
I have me a plan and I know what to do

Toss 'em out windows or down the front stairs
I know this is cheating but who really cares?

Out goes the laundry and stashes of junk
From Adam's green apron to gramma's old trunk

There go the dishes all covered in mold
Along with some food that is forty years old

Off with that chair and "The Three Little Pigs"
Things that are broken and "How to Grow Figs."

Off with this junk that my kids left behind
This statue of rocks and a petrified rind

Copyright © Isaiah Zerbst | Year Posted 2012

Details | Rhyme |
My Dad was a funny guy He had a Labrador as a guide You see my dad was blind Yet always saw the funny side Like drinking cups of hot water Instead of cups of tea Because the teabag missed the cup Yes, he did that a time or three We went through many a kettle Mum would get quite hectic He’d put it on the stove to boil Not seeing it was electric I never heard him grumble Never heard a single complaint Even when he painted the shed with water Believing it was paint These things he did are true But he never lost his pride My dad was blind, could not see Yet could see the funny side
Dad passed at the ridiculously young age of 56, it is impossible to believe in less than seven years from now, I will be older than him. Everything in the poem above is true, they really did happen, but he could always laugh at himself, which I always saw as a tremendous strength, just one of the many valuable life lessons he taught me.

Copyright © Gary Wayne Hill | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |

I do believe there are some dead beat dads

But, you need to think before you write because you can make some people mad,

Only the dads that know they are no good

But, you need to put credit where you should,

Years ago it was all so funny

Thinking that there was all about your money,

Reality is this father has supported his kids and then some

The years are going by and panic is setting in on loosing a secure income,

Sooner or later the days will end you living off others will finally be over

That means getting a job and working until you get older,

So be good to those whom support your well being

Because one day you will totally depend on them for your living.

Written By: Unique Poetry 2015

Copyright © Michelle Born | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |
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 :-)*

Copyright © Sidney Hall Mad Poet | Year Posted 2011