Funny Couplet Poems | Examples
These Funny Couplet poems are examples of Couplet poems about Funny. These are the best examples of Couplet Funny poems written by international poets.
Older sister advised, Girls like a man with money
Younger one giggled, Just be funny
I tried to be funny, but made no money
Instead I ate a lot and grew my tummy
Instead of acting like you’re in mourning
With a smiling face, just say good morning
Instead of walking around with a frown
Just be happy without being a clown
Kids don’t need for your tales to be gory
Why not share with them, a funny story
No need to go on about your ex-wife
Say something humorous about your life
To break the ice so that others will laugh
This morning, I woke up, clothed in the bath
This may seem lame.
Let’s make it a game.
I’ll give you a clue.
You try to guess who.
Proceeding my entrance by just a short while,
Is often the presence or hint of a smile.
Used sometimes by women, more often by men,
Often, I start as a quaint little grin.
I can also be hardy, and sometimes quite loud,
And often I’m present amongst a small crowd.
If it is me, you want to invoke,
Share with the group, a funny joke.
If you want to seem happy from now ever after,
Invite me in, I’m best known as laughter.
Old School Cool (c) 2025 by the Entangled Pair
She's hot, yes, but she's also cool
she is a gem, she is a jewel
I think she's great (and I'm no fool)
she beats those drums like she's old school
she pounds those skins, sometimes it's funny
she hits them like they owe her money
and one thing more I'll tell you honey
she's on that kit whether cloudy or sunny
She's been that way right from the start
plays from the the soul, plays from the heart
she always does more than her part
it's not just passion, it's her art
looking back I am that fool
dug in like a Missouri mule
and if this doesn't break some rule
she's not just cool - she's old school cool
word
DONUTS AND MILK
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I crave a treat, a sweet delight
one that brings a smile and makes my morning bright.
Donuts and milk, a perfect pair
my favorite breakfast, beyond compare.
The milk, a chalice, pure and white
a perfect complement to the donut's sugary delight.
Glazed, iced, cake, or filled with jelly
each bite a journey that goes straight to my belly.
Donuts and milk become one with me
a perfect harmony, a deliciously sweet symphony.
I poop every morning after a Pizzelle slathered in Nutella
it is nine am in Italy and not a good time to eat mortadella
I poop after lunch after eating pizza with spicy pepperoni
it is twelve o'clock and way too early to eat my macaroni
I poop in the evening after my pasta al forno with cheese
its much too early for my salami sandwich, " Jeez Louise!"
I poop before bed and I let out a great Ah Ah, Mama Mia
as the neighbors yell out the window keep it down " Maria! "
Of course I poop like a proper Italian and here's the squeeze,
when we use the Latrina we fan ourselves to get a tiny breeze!
I saw him posing on his perch
While exploring Blackpool merch.
"The Snack Thief" is how he's locally known
Wide eyed, plump and holding his own.
He loves chips, ice cream cones and bread...
So keep an eye out over head!
He'll hover, then suddenly down he'll swoop
To gather up a hearty scoop.
Or he'll seem to dawdle by your side
But snatch your snack when you watch the tide.
He's very intelligent and with it sneaky.
But he is endearing, cute and cheeky.
Its advisable for tourists to feast inside
Where naughty seagulls don't reside.
Steven Seagull now lives with me
So he can't cause chaos near the sea!
A Jaw biopsy was done to determine the issue,
The Doctors first response “looks like scar tissue”.
His next question was, “have you ever been hit on the Jaw”?
In an attempt to be funny my response brought no hurrah,
“Yes, I have on a few occasions, hit a fist with my face”,
when endeavoring to put another, in what I thought, was his place.
From the lab I waited three days, then came my answer.
The Doctor quickly said Tom “You have Parotid Gland cancer”.
So cancer became the match that would set my fields on fire,
I sought the face of Jesus and once more I could easily respire.
In faith I asked Jesus, i believed, and confessed my sin,
and at that moment I felt forgiven and became born again.
Now many years and speed bumps later I still grasp his hand,
Jesus is still my captain and I’m still under his command.
.
My teacher who thought sun-bathing made her well-red,
graded me average, she was mean to the power hundred.
She was once a banker, but after some time lost interest,
wanted to be a pilot, so her career could take off for the best.
She thought to be able to fly high, could be truly uplifting,
instead she bought a boat, for in the sea it was for sail drifting.
She was an optimist, her blood type was B-positive, they stated,
but the doctor said it was Type-O, the mistake was corrected.
Her memory was photographic, but she couldn’t fully develop it,
she needed to alter a brain part, changed her mind the last minute.
When she stole neighbor’s lamps, he couldn’t be more de-lighted,
a picturesque girl, she landed in jail, “I was framed”, she asserted.
‘Here come some more of them
Plenty of little kids too
Time to put on our funny faces
Entertain them for a while’
‘Chase each other round and round
Make lots of high-pitched sounds
Swing from vine to vine, almost falling
Miraculous recoveries our signature calling’ ...
Like clowns in a circus, they put on quite a show
Yet what’s in a monkey’s heart, no one really knows
‘Fetterman’s the Betterman’
~ says David Letterman
My Famous Favorite Poet,
One day, I'll write like you own it.
Your gorgeously written sonnet,
Mines are like bees in my bonnet.
Words hum dimly and don't brighten,
Yours float high, and they enlighten.
All my poems acquire honey,
They buzz about sounding funny.
Each of your sonnets shines like gold,
With words that glow, so all behold.
My poems hid inside a beehive,
While yours outside gets a high five.
I hope to write like your sonnet,
Honeyed butter like Bluebonnet.
Please rate 1-10
(1 Santa would be proud or
10 A coal in your stocking!)
A white Christmas in Chicagee don't make no sense
Bout time we skeedaddle, let good times commence
So where to go, my darlin' Maggie and me
As we swig down our egg nog and pack our tree?
The lil' miss and I'll be spendin' this Christmas
Way down yonder on the Panama Isthmus
There's a honky-tonk there on the ol' canal
Tequilla will be flowin' for me and my gal
When will I finally fill your shoes,
Reach maturity like you did?
You seemed to have all the answers
When I was just a kid.
I've been waiting a long time now
So maybe I missed my turn,
I'm well past the age you were,
By now I should have learned!
How did you do the adulting, so effortless,
Not overwhelmed or lost?
You juggled a job,a family, and never
Dropped any ball we tossed.
You seemed so fearless, standing tall,
A million arms to answer each call.
All I can think when life comes at me
Is I don't even have half your balls.
Pony-up, you owe the money
Your protests, not even funny
When you win, we pay up fast
The about-face ~ What a contrast