Funny Childhood Poems | Examples
These Funny Childhood poems are examples of Childhood poems about Funny. These are the best examples of Childhood Funny poems written by international poets.
We call it adult humor
Dressed like late night intellect
But the joke is just a cheap dare
We clap like it’s profound
We claim it’s edgy commentary
Wrapped in clever phrasing
But it’s really playground bravado
Posing as sophistication
We say it’s mature wit
Served with craft beer confidence
But it’s just petty mischief
Wearing a grown up voice
We insist it’s highbrow comedy
Sold as cultural insight
But it’s thin skinned teasing
Masquerading as satire
We pretend we’ve evolved past childishness
Framing jokes as worldly wisdom
But the truth is embarrassingly simple
We never stopped laughing at the easy stuff
Red Skelton, they say,
Gave laughs away every day.
As Gertrude and Heathcliff,
he’d squawk and he’d stare,
Leaving feathers and giggles all over the air.
Dusty light fogged the attic,
antique smell brought back my past…
rows of smiling dulcet dolls,
building blocks and kitchen sets,
my childhood hidden treasures
lay beside a keepsake box,
the teeth inside were not mine.
When you blew me that kiss,
I knew right away it would miss.
But a little girl picked it up,
as it landed in a buttercup,
and said, "I think you were meant to be the recipient of this."
Through my little fingers I'd peek
When I was a kid I would freak
Watching wicked witch melt
Frightful fear I then felt
That I wouldn't bathe for a week!
Can't wait to start the day.
Want to get out,
And PLAY,
PLAY,
PLAY!
Momma said," Quit bouncing around.
Your scrambled eggs are all over the ground.
Pick them up and come sit down!"
Oh my, I just saw a friend passing by,
He may have more play than I.
If I'm lucky he'll save some play time for me.
Scarfling up the eggs off the floor.
Stuffing in pockets,
I'm out the door.
Breaking my fast just doesn't last.
Munching on my eggs,
That'll have to pass!
Grandma Teresina Cavicchio,
best pizza fritta maker
in all of Marianna, PA.
Probably the whole world!
Her fried pizza dough, dusted
with powdered sugar,
bellissima!
Lightly browned outside,
creamy in the inside,
it was the stuff
of mouth-watering dreams.
My three sisters and I
lined up in Nonna’s kitchen, chanted,
“Pizza Fritta, good to eat-a,
give me some, it is a treat-a!”
Her apron white with snowy sugar,
her ample arms coated in flour,
she never failed to please us.
Though I’ll never have Nonna’s
pizza fritta again,
I picture St. Peter and the angels,
powdered sugar moustaches,
greasy lips and beatific smiles,
gathering round Nonna.
"Pizza fritta, good to eat-a,
give us some, a heavenly treat-a."
She never had a male role model
Or male figure in her in childhood
From a family of five females
Women is what she understood
She was a sweet girl
Quite gullible and naive
As she grew into womanhood
Male interactions were not well received
She encountered inappropriate behaviours
A health professional did her wrong
She was fearful of the opposite sex
Until you came along
You were kind and you were funny
So safe she felt with you
A good and decent honest man
Restoring her faith and fearful view
You have loved her a lifetime
She has loved you
You are the perfect role model
The one she never knew …..
Monkey Face!
Tilted to the side,
Giggle in the move,
Elbows down!
Never a frown,
Fists tight to the chin.
Monkey face!
Always a grin.
Sammy wanted his uncle's attention
Uncle Pete adored him.
Took out his slingshot, thinking this would be hilarious
But this time it was not; he met a different Uncle Pete.
Funny old Ms. Bunny has a sunny disposition,
But how can she be happy in a circular position?
She can’t be very comfy with a big hole in her tum.
Perhaps when she was made, they weren’t sure where to place her bum.
Drawing my wand
Dipped in a pond
Blowing bubbles
With no troubles
It’s really easy
If you just try
Floating right by
A giggle and wiggle
Funny and wobbly
As they tickle
I open my mouth
And blow some out
Now in a hurry
Without any worry
Soap in a cover
Begin to hover
Bubbles collide
Slip and slide
No where to hide
As they pop
Without a stop
Oh how I try
To catch one “Sigh!”
As I'll just keep on
Blowing bubbles
Towards the sky
28.9.2021
Sponsor: Eve Roper
Contest: Rhyme me rhyme me a poem
Picture no.2
We had been welcomed with an exquisite embrace.
With sentences that stream the same as a wave.
The sky-blue vault is shaded in smooth grace.
A glimpse of the sea, to stroll to and from the cave.
We'd gladly cross the solid and subtle field.
In innate oneness, we are complete;
We didn't have to talk as we appear to wield.
Until we were ousted by an outer beat.
From pretty places to revolting symbolism.
Where such discussions and gatherings happen.
On a day, the typical scene is momentum.
He is a ruthless normal hero or a demon.
The aura glimmered brightly near.
In a desert area, you'll have a sun clear.
Written: September 6, 2021
“O Honey, the brute bear, straddles the box.”
The saxophonist stares. “Music unlocks
the stuffings out of the dread growling beast.
Bear’s tongue does round his lips. Am I his feast?”
Goldilocks laughs. Saxophonist funny
and a great storyteller. “Now the bunny!”
His daughter points gleefully at its tail.
Dad closes the box, locking both in jail.
“The animals stuff their ears with their paws.
waiting for the whale to open its jaws.
Lo! They hear the great musician and hope
that the conductor will throw them a rope.”
Golden curls bob, “You make no sense, you must
unlock the box before the waters rust!”
“Suddenly roars, a quake - the box growling,
bunny scratching…” Dad and his muse rolling.
7/28/2021
Brian Strand’s Couplet Contest
I remember as a kid this one little guy
tough as nails and quick with a lie
he showed up with a shiner
but he wasn't a whiner
said he, I hit his fist with my eye