Best Doofus Poems


Be Wise, Do Not Plagiarise

You've ignited a fire beyond what you know,
my smooth hand glides providing the flow,
striking lightening that makes the mind blow,
you stole my rhymes and put them on show.

I followed the trail and look where it led,
a place full of those that are dead in the head.
I've had it with low lifes where plagiarism thrives,
you steal, you lie, and you will not survive!

Taking these rhymes of mine,
multiple times you swines,
disgraceful faces with empty brain spaces,
you have no place in the human race.

Posting all about the inspiration you taste,
you're nothing more than human waste.

Everytime I find what you've took,
I look to see what is the prize?
What do you get for these crimes?

You just get attention and praise,
what a sad way to live happy days.

Soaking up the limelight
making out you rhyme tight,
acting like you've got groove
while your reputation improves,
right up to the day that it falls through,
suddenly out of the blue I'm coming for you.

I will do to you whatever I choose,
I'll steal your laces make you a noose,
I wont give you time to say your excuse.

That poem you posted,remember who wrote it,
be aware of the fact you're poking a poet,
I'll write rhymes about you
I'll make jokes that are true,
exposing the truth with a hoof to the tooth,
the roast of the doofus stupendously useless.

You cannot match my catchy raps
so you best not try to snatch from my patch,
not any of my pieces with their sweet releases.

You live down on your knees
with your ear to ear breeze,
I rhyme with ease,
you've just climbed out the trees.

Remember that reputations will rise and will fall,
at the end is humiliation and you will feel like a fool,
so be wise, don't plagiarise and live a life of lies,
it'll steal your happiness,
and it will kill your pride.

Be wise, do not plagiarise.

(........ what you gonna do when I come for you?
plagiarise, plagiarise, 
what you gonna do?
What you gonna do when I come for you?
Played your eyes, played your eyes,
what you gona do?
What you gonna do when I come for you?)
© Nick Trim  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: doofus, corruption, poetry, slam,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Cozzie Switch

My golden dog,
two days after his death
I can still smell his fur
in my nose,
in my brain.
After frantic efforts,
we shared his last breath.
I watch the life leave
his eye.
His name was Cosmos and
I think there is a switch
on the spirally DNA
that's turned on more
for some than most.
Those that have it must beware
that it can take them
to their deaths.
Those that love them must be aware
that it can take them
to their death.
Cozzie's mother knew,
it is typical of the breed
to have the switch turned on.
She always held back a little perhaps
knowing where her genes
could take her.
I always sensed a certain sadness
as her doofus son bounced around
trying to please her,
please me,
please everyone!
Lick,licks, licks,
a thousand licks,
even for the cats he shared
a household with.
I think that his mother knew
where it would all end,
out on a walking trail
on a beautiful day,
doing what Cozzie love best,
pulling us all down the trail,
determined always to be first,
dutifully stopping at stop signs,
ready to take off
when given the "O.K".
There came a time in every walk,
that I didn't take seriously enough, 
when he would say, "enough!",
and lay panting in the weeds,
embarrassed to be seen, 
and we would wait,
until he was ready
to resume the lead,
apologetically wagging his tail,
for the momentary delay.
This was a normal day and 
I trusted nature to set the boundaries
never suspecting that Cozzie's switch
was turned too high,
pushing him beyond endurance,
just to please.
The day came when his big body
collapsed in the weeds,
and he could not get up,
panting for his life,
and apologized to the end,
for his inability to please.
If only we could hold back those
with the Cozzie switch
and make them understand
that half a big heart
is enough.
Categories: doofus, allegoryday, love, mother, endurance,
Form: Free verse

Big Fat Looser

I Am a Big Fat Looser

Oh I am a big fat looser
I don’t deserve to live
I need someone to take a Gun
And shoot me till I’m dead

Yes I am a big fat looser
I really want to die
I’m looking for a violent guy
To shoot me in the eye

Oh I am a big fan looser
I really have to say
If this is life I realize
I hate it every day

Yes I am a big fat looser
And life is just the pits
I am a guy that wants to die
Not live another day

Oh I am a big fat looser
I really hate this life
If you the one don't have a gun
Then maybe use a knife

Yes I am a big fat doofus
I really have to say
If suicide is painless
Well then maybe that’s the way

Oh I am a big fat doofus
I live in misery
But I don’t have the courage
Or I’d blow myself away

I really am a doofus
I’ve one more thing to say
If anyone is listening
Then shoot me right away
So I can die today
Categories: doofus, death, how i feel,
Form: Limerick

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Doofiness As a Spiritual Principle

My loving wife is a woman who’s just not inclined to flatter
Mine pointed out I’m not so serious about things that don’t matter
But I read between the lines of what she thought she meant
Her unintended words of praise, were actually heaven sent!

Plus, a golden opportunity that seemed just right
To ‘splain to the kiddos why I’m not so dang uptight:
“I apologize, I’m well aware, your dad is such an oddity
See, middle-aged energy is such a limited commodity

“If I expend my efforts worrying about everyone’s chit-chatter
Then I will not have said energy when it really matters!
So, do you think I’m such an unrelenting doofus at work?
Well, sometimes, but you can be darned sure I never shirk.

"And here’s the point that I hope all you kiddos apprehend
Someone who doesn’t like your happiness is hardly a good friend.
Just keep your eyes on the prize, who God made you to be
Grow your heart to love yourself; you can be truly free!”

4/27/16
© Thomas W. Quigley
Categories: doofus, children, fun, life, parents,
Form: Quatrain

Hid 'Em Up

Dancing to Sisqo 
like a dad at a disco
that ain’t the diss though
you’re a straight up pissed ho
handbag on the dance floor 
where your sandbag **** fall
straps see you trip fool
your ugly face hit sore
wake up toothless
seeking a toothbrush 
though it be useless 
what a flipping doofus 
go home harbour a criminal 
brain damage acts horrible
talking his world of bull
so thick you believe the tool,
keep mans away and hidden
they’re out to get rid of him
swears on his kid again
but the kid don’t remember him,
causes trouble is he worth it
when all say he deserves it
pause, think, is he nervous?
6 foot under the surface,
when you’re just a pissed ho
out to dance at a disco
now granting a wish so 
this dreg ain’t a missed bro.
© Nick Trim  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: doofus, appreciation, freedom, rap, rude,
Form: Rhyme

No Tell No 'Mo


Pick up the plaid skirt curly,
ride to the rave party on the down low
Sneak out the lame pimple place early,
take the cutie to the Hush Hush ‘Mo ‘Mo
Trying to act playa Romeo ... like he know,
but those fumbling hands show
And the honey he brought,
she don’t know too much mo’
Amateur young lovers trying to be pros ...
mature triple X adult for the first time
But they be talking too much,
don’t know when to put the tongue 
in the plug
How to get wired ... get electrocuted love
They don’t tell each other that they really don’t know,
so they continue to put on a clumsy show
She talks a titillating tart Juliet,
but she ain’t a grown woman yet 
Her body says she’s good to go — 
but she don’t know how to pick up the pole,
and vault to the next love level tho’
And the rookie Casanova, with the limp bent noodle,
ain’t got a French poodle clue what to Irish lip doodle
So they continue on with their comedic vaudeville shuffle :
Dumbo gives the bimbo Bambi girl
a hasty, upstairs wardrobe malfunction
This gets dizzy Dolly’s bra flapping like a pigeon
runway model at a pantomime luncheon
Fanny Panty Brice and Klutzy Superfly
starring in a “Dingbat Does Doofus” short sex life
Silly-o omelette loving ... screw ups by the dozen
Doh boy’s first diddle muffins never got into the oven,
cuz he couldn’t get the rise inside the Twinkie to grow
Donut hole girl never got the cream-filled poke ladle straddle,
cuz she couldn’t turn the soft soft wood into hard hard paddle
No tell no ‘mo 
what you say you know ... but don’t
No tell no ‘mo 
what you say you can do ... but your IQ won’t
No tell no ‘mo 
what you say you know ... but you really don’t
No tell no ‘mo 
what you say you can do ... but don’t know how
to 
make the bosom udders give up 
the moo-moo
Baby woodpecker wearing a baby chef rubber hat,
take your baby beaver apron 
unloosed string bow
and naked fetch the how-to-milk stool now
No tell no ‘mo 
what you say you can do ... but don’t know how
Get the ‘Mo ‘Mo 
moo-moo tail tongue pail —  Right now!
And go out to
the barn and learn how to milk the cow
Categories: doofus, humorous, imagery, truth, wisdom,
Form: Burlesque


Everytime I'M Sad

I want to say you're silly and perhaps a little mad
Infact, you're effing cuckoo because everytime I'm sad
You always make me laugh til I pee my girlie knickers
I believe the sense in you comes in waves and flickers
And everytime I fall you're as constant as the ground
You walk me to the edge to say 'its a frikkin long way down' 
You pull me back to safety as the rocks begin to crumble 
But giggle like a doofus when I trip and stumble 
Your humour has no boundaries, you're just as sick as I 
You make me want to put cocktail sticks in my eyes 
You rip my lack of boobies, love my sheer vulgarity
You send me filthy pictures of parts I shouldn't see
You do all this because you just love to see me laugh
At the risk of sounding cheesy you're the best mate one could have

That's why I keep this secret, 
This tiny bit of truth,
That everytime
I'm sad and whine
It's because I can't have you
Categories: doofus, dedication, friendship, funny, me,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Miracle After Miracle After Miracle

Early one morn the sun did sink
   in the west as the moon arose
And Farmer Jones inspected his rose
   of purple corn, which began to dance
Shedding sheaves, donning pants...

While in the barn, the cow was neighing
   at Ed the horse, professorially saying
That Oscar the penguin had quacked his last quack
   unless the Porcupine's magic needles bring him back...

Back in the house, Mrs. Jones was a-me-owing
   at her pet bird Elvis, who was busy massaging  
The tummy of the chipmunk, Rufus, a big of a doofus
   while her rattlesnake, "Nixon," was clearly a-fixin'
To tickle Farmer Smith's duckbill platypus
   though that really shouldn't matter to us... 

A miracle happens every single minute --- 
   the sun comes up, the moon goes down,
The world turns round --- But they remain unreceived 
   ~ unless there's something unusual in them perceived
Categories: doofus, miracle, nature, universe,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Ring Around the Rosie Rivvit Dribbit Drosie

Ring around the rosie
Ribbit Dribbit Drosie
They secret the mucus.
Hookus, Lookus, Doofus.

Three frogs at play
In my field today
Straight from the swamp
Eating flies with a whomp!

Ring around the rosie
Ribbit Dribbit Drosie
Good pets they might not be
Frog legs for my tea?
Categories: doofus, 1st grade, 2nd grade,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Vintage Vindication

I am watching the t.v. show Growing Pains and it brings tears to my eyes. I think
of the things my grandchildren watch. Less variety was more. We had worthwhile
lessons in a half-hour program. Today there is so much worldly noise. 

VINTAGE VINDICATION

cataclysmic dust lands on the flat screen

our kids count each particle in wonderment

vintage past in crematorium ashes

new shows blast silliness no lectures

minds bounce up and down on bouncy balls

no matter! hand-held gadgets and earplugs inhabit

their stratosphere…their precipice, high places

gather all clueless moms and doofus dads

and a range of worldly friends, for a few laughs

light sprays out of the humongous screen

with blinding fury, ties a bandana over eyes

bags and gags common sense and loving hugs

now we had some laughs in the blast of the past

but we learned lessons too. vintage vindication –

that’s what i seek. harmony with loving hugs.


Kim Rodrigues © 2017
Categories: doofus, childhood, love, nonsense, nostalgia,
Form: Free verse

Concluded

12/5/20


Better choose quick
Just might lose if
You don't do it

Awesome or a nuisance
It either was or wasn't in the blueprints
Still a loner, or already shot by Cupid's
Arrow, underneath a sky that is moonlit

They spread lies, but the truth is
Staying sharp or a doofus
Handy or useless
In a world that can be merciful or ruthless
Just a baby, or a fully grown "Toothless"  (Dragon)
(How quickly people bandwagon)

Pleasant or putrid
Humble or full of hubris
Intact or uprooted

In the open or secluded
A lack of energy and motivation, or being boosted
The body reconstituted and mind rebooted
Being wise or foolish

Already hinted and alluded
People can be so stupid
Always they feuded
And often hooted
Worried about who did
What, then they quickly brooded
Time has proved it and exuded
Just one of many things I've concluded

Sad that so many have been unjustifiably prosecuted
Got the juice or electrocuted

Problems remaining or getting troubleshooted
Getting it done or roosted

Giving up or continuing when rerouted
Getting nowhere or commuted

A life of hardship or of being undisputed
Drinks that are strong or diluted

The volume turned up or muted

Became friends with a druid
Never once tooted
His own horn, or made excuses
Categories: doofus, life, meaningful, poetry, rap,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Day My Life Went Bizacko

The day my life went bizacko,
I had me a brush with “big C”
“No biggie; just radiation,” they said,
“after lumpectomy.”

“No, wait,” said the surgeon,“Your cancer’s genetic!
Let’s have you do chemo too.”
A doctor friend wiser said that would be
a ludicrous thing to do.

Chemo just for prevention?
How wackadoodle is that?
Despite the fact I’m “genetic,”
I turned down their chemo flat.

Did radiation and thought I was done
till my bones were then given a scan.
“Keep your bones strong. You must take our drug,”
said my doofus oncologist man.

Prolia shots every six months.
Four times I did that in all.
Come to find out – folks going OFF it
are breaking their bones when they fall! 

I went off it anyway.
Rare side effects were making me feel insane.
Two years since then and still I have got
Prolia on my brain.

My mouth is bizarre -half-numb and plain dumb
like my outer lips aren’t even there!
Like plastic or wool my mouth feels inside,
so an old worn-out mouthguard I wear.

The mouthguard’s my comfort, but it’s gotten yellow
and I look strange when I smile.
Good thing for me to NOT be in public
but stuck in my house for this while.

New doctors I visit will not diagnose me.
One of them thinks I am whacko.
Doctors look after each OTHER while I
keep living a life bizacko!

April 1, 2020
 
239 words for Caren Krutsinger's The Day My Life Went Whacko Poetry Contest
Categories: doofus, drug,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member I Am Not a Robot Part 2

Me a zombie?
Never!
Just a viral doofus poseur,
Brainiac and hacker on the loose tapping into other genie lamps,
Wireless Stikbot floater skipping ID challenge.
Hurdles that authenticate saliva from a silicone palate.
Trojan horse webber getting kicks from pop up photos and their tick box phasers.
Magic putty slideshows arfe my fix,
Overlapping gotchas in the cryptic mainframe,
zapped on sight.
Cookies nerd obsessive, parasitic nibbler on limitless net feeds,
Humanoid, human void,
vacuum mouse pad tracker ball bane.
Foxy email phisser,
wolf amid the Wiki swathes at random,
memory never full.
Sabouteur who pinpoints rootkit channels,
silently installing gridlock pixels deep freeze.
But I am not a robot,
just some micro chip app monger, macro chip on shoulder and those other parts designed by desktop surgeons,
sideline sci-fi wise guy not so wise,
hi-tech buff illusion in a hall of mirrors dash into the ether.
Me this CoderDojo mass encryption tangle,
blue moon barcode surfer, Janus-faced,
mutant bit part player who has somehow lost his byte!

Written January Twenty First Twenty Twenty
Categories: doofus, color, computer, creation, fantasy,
Form: Prose Poetry

Premium Member High upon a Hill

Jill was high upon a hill,
looking fit and rather so.
Kingdom phat and muscles toned,
to wind released her bonnet.

Without the doofus Jack,
there’s not one thing Jill lacks.
No bruised knees nor broken crown.
A bluebird’s singing sonnet.
Categories: doofus, nursery rhyme,
Form: Rhyme

Dog Dreams

Down here on the skin of the planet E
Desperately clutching at sanity
Despondent to thinking of never
Deciding to go on forever
Dreading each day spent alone
Doing the best that I can
Defiantly
Drinking the
Dregs of my coffee
Drying my cheek with my hand
Doodling
Dribbling on
Dancing with
Donald the
Doofus
Categories: doofus, introspection, planet,
Form: Bio
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Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry

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