Best Funnyhair Poems


Undercover Mother

It’s a nicely warmed day
The sun beaming through the blue
70’s rock on the radio
And I’m feeling it too
The bass throbs through the speakers
And pulsates my heart
That I remember all the words
Makes me thrilled off the chart
The volume too loud
But who gives a flip
I’m riding alone on this little trip

My sunglasses on
The windows rolled down
I feel the need for speed
So I’m headin’ out of town
My hair is wild in the wind
I’m hangin’ tight in the curves
All my senses alive
In case I have to swerve

The gear shift feels good
In the palm of my hand
Satisfied with the knowledge
I can out drive any man

There’s nothing like driving
This barren stretch of #8
But I look at the clock 
And see I’m almost late

Slow my speed to a whisper
I head back into town
I fix my hair in the mirror
The music goes down

Satisfied with the knowledge
That the wild is still there
No matter what the age
I’ve learned not to despair
Sometimes you just have to 
Throw away the rules
As long as you aren’t late
To pick the kids up from school
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Big Football Fan

Just like the football I am
small on the ends and big in the middle.
Sharp as a tack and fit as a fiddle,
seventy four (in the waist) and can still bounce back.
Of course it’s pretty hard on the sacroiliac .
I think my shape is no big concern.
Some say, I look like a pregnant earth worm.
I’m bald on my head and have hair ‘tween my toes.
I shave with lectric scissors,
but, sweetheart I braid the hair in my nose.  
Now, I do pluck those awful ones growin’ out my ears
cause when I turn sideways, heck
If I’m too close to you they might wrap around your neck.  
Then where would I be with a obeasty charge to cover.
Shucks, I ain’t no beast, I’m a lover.
and I play football, when I get a dare.  

© Steal this one, I don’t care.
cgh for Kristen Bruni’s “football” contest
Form: Rhyme

After Using That Hair Oil

Everybody told me it would do wonder
so I applied it without further delay,
little did I realize that it was a blunder,
no hair on head now, no bad hair day!





====================

Placement:10th ;(June 2011)

Contest:My Funniest Poem ON the Soup

Sponsor:Poet Destroyer

By:kashinath karmakar(11th January 2011)
© Kash Poet  Create an image from this poem.


Black Chest Hair

My hair is frizzy and very black.
I found it in my chest of drawers.
Also a bunch grows in my crack.
And if you like it, it's all yours.


For Rick Parise's "A Bad Hair Day" contest

Premium Member The Magic Bean Locks

ST. Paddy Day today. I'm wearing my green, and I celebrate with my 100th poem posted 
since coming here before Xmas! and I will probably lay off the limericks now until next year!

With hair much too short, one vain poet
took magic beans so she could grow it.
Like Jack's giant bean stalk
quickly grew each gold lock!
Now her hair has no place she can stow it!
Form: Limerick

Premium Member Not My Fault

Mama please do not blame me.
I didn't turn your hair grey,
Nor make it looks so messy.
You're having a bad hair day.

For Rick's Bad Hair Contest  7th place


My Hair-Do

Girl was born blonde and blue eyed.
Tamed down and made it look right.
As I grew-up my hair looked fryed.
Look oh what a sight.

Entered in Rick's"A bad hair day"contest.
Form: Dodoitsu

Bandanna and Me

Bandanna and me

I tie my hair at night
So I can sleep
Hoping my hair doesn't
Move underneath
Trying to save 
Sometime in the morning
I don't have to spend to much time combing
Now that I'm gone
To start my day
I'm already dressed
So I'm on my way 
First to the coffee shop
To have me some tea
Then to work 
My bandanna and me
me
Form: Lyric

It' S Real - It' S Just Not Mine

IT’S    REAL    -    IT’S   JUST   NOT   MINE


I would love to have a hair day
Good or bad  I do not care
Long ago I bought a toupee
Now I cherish every hair


...............................................................................................

Written for  Rick  Parise’s  contest    “ A BAD  HAIR   DAY”

Aging

My heart is breaking
My hands are shaking
My legs are getting weaker
My eyes are crying
My lips are quivering
My soul is drowning
My mind is wondering
My ears are ringing
My nose still running
My hair is balding
My skin is wrinkle
My bones are brittle
My joints are aching
My chin hair growing
My weight I still am gaining
My butt has hemorrhoids
My cream no longer works
In other words


"WHAT THE HECK IS UP WITH THIS!!!!"
Form:

Asinine Thought 101

If a man/woman is totally bald on the head 
And wanted a hair transplant...

Could the hair plug be taken from the arm pit?

If so don't forget to use deodorant daily!!

On Seeing the Mona Lisa

On Seeing the Mona Lisa                              

By Elton Camp

When I was at the Louvre I just had to go
See a famous painting done by Leonardo
But it took me really quite a long while
To see Mona Lisa’s world famous smile

For people to see it too good they must fear
Because a railing wouldn’t let anybody near
That they had things to hide it seemed to me
If it had more light, it’d be much easier to see

When I finally got as close to it as I could
What they wanted to conceal I understood
Its fame most certainly had been oversold
Why, it must have been a hundred years old

Mona Lisa was wearing a dark old dress
And her long, stringy hair was a total mess
A part in the middle made her look so dumb
Her hair net surely needed pulling up some

An outfit tacky as that she must have stolen
And her right hand looks like it’s all swollen
On her too-fat fingers she wore not a ring
Hanging around her neck wasn’t a thing

Bags under her eyes were ugly and deep
Like she hadn’t been getting much sleep
Maybe so a model he wouldn’t have to pay
He had his scrubbing woman pose that way

That would account for her really nice smile
She wouldn’t be doing hard work for a while
Looking closer, I had to say, “Why I declare,
That picture has lots of cracks most everwhere.”

If I come back to Paris, I won’t see it anymore
I’ve seen much better paintings in a resale store
It may have been sort of fine when it was new
But of decorating use it is now about through
© Elton Camp  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Wolfio and Drooliette

Now here's a story for Halloween
One that you won't forget
A little story of forbidden love
Called Wolfio and Drooliette

Now Wolfio was a werewolf dude
With his hair down to his toes
And how he hooked up with Drooliette
Nobody really knows

You see, Drooliette was a vampire chick
With her fangs all covered in red
But Wolfio really dug that chick
From the ground, cause she was dead

Now Drooliette liked those hairy dudes
They made her go weak in the knees
He washed his hair in Pert shampoo
Cause he heard it got rid of the fleas

And though he had to stop fetching sticks
A sacrifice he was willing to make
They don't sit good with the vampire chicks
Cause it looked like a wooden stake

Now to say they lived happily ever after
Would probably be telling you a lie
Cause though Drooliette will never see death
Poor Wolfio had to die

Now don't be sad, but this story is true
And before you say that I lied
Just say hello to Drooliette
My brand new blood sucking bride
© Larry Belt  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

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