Oaf Poems | Examples

Does he have a name

Bohunk climbed down the beanstalk today
Looked like an oaf said my young brother Jay
A bohunk is an oaf, I quickly told him
He was followed by his friend, ogre Jim

Jay asked me, does the bohunk have a name?
Talking to oafs and ogres is not my game.
Creatures from the sky are scary to me.
Especially if they are not a fantasy.

meeting the new guy

Ed is a beast, a bruiser, a big baboon
We expected a lumbering oaf, a goon
Her description had much jocundity
He was quite lovely, as we would soon see
Why did you set us up thinking he was a clown?
I knew when you met him, there’d be no letdown.

Moss

Moss

On Sundays I make myself familiar with 
the moss on 
the oaf of 
rocks adjacent to 
the driveway on 
the west side of 
the house. 
They’re always keen to know if 
I prefer the last letters or 
do I prefer the 
first or
the middle that form a 
word or 
a 
proverb. 
Too they’re keen to 
know how many lines do I 
write each time I’m at 
my dark oak desk (my desk is named 
Something Done) writing with my 
HB pencil in my 
snot green-spiral notebook my 
horror short stories live in. I give them a 
different answer for 
both questions each time.

Refurbished Nursery Rhymes: In the Case of Tommy Tucker

Why did little Tommy Tucker
Have to sing for his supper?
Did he stammer and stutter
To merit just bread and butter?
And what miscreant oaf
Would then give him a loaf
But nary a knife to cut through it?
Didn't Tom have enough strife
In his life with no wife,
Or did fat spread on starch
Help him chew it?

Monster

DO NOT PROD THE SLEEPING BEHEMOTH

For in his wake, all donned in hope
Torn enraged to tattered shreds of cloth
Matters not to the blood lusting oaf
Crimson tinted visions
Through obstreperous milky orbs
View a costly vital decision
One any could ill afford
Be urged to tiptoe in silence
Round the pent up snoring goon
For he's dreamt for moons of wreaking violence
Drooling over your doom
I beg you leave slumbering demons in peace
If he could he would beg you the same
For all who've succumbed to his clenching of teeth
Have lived not to surmount the shame

Silence

Silence among enemies,
Means more jobs for spies,
To see how the land lies.

Silence among friends,
Means it is time to build bridges,
Down through the ages.

Silence among Lovers,
Means less need for daily showers,
And hairdryers.

Silence in the Forest,
Means it is time for the inhabitants to find another place to stay,
As logging trucks are on their way.

Silence at work,
Means a bank holiday,
Is needed right away.

Silence in the classroom,
Means the head teacher is in today,
And lesson are the order of the day.

Silence in the kitchen,
Means Mum is out,
And Dad is incapable of helping out.

Silence in the lounge,
Means the internet is down,
And everybody is wearing a frown.

Silence in the car, 
Means cell phones are on,
And any opportunity for a family sing song is gone.
 
Silence in the office,
Means the boss is back from playing golf,
With the village Oaf.

Silence on the court,
Means the money is not enough,
And they have all gone off in a huff.

Silence at the keyboard,
Means I can't think of  another word,
So, silence will now be all that can be heard.

Tell It Like It Is

It lacks every rhyme or reason
To bake a cake and not serve it
It takes away the season
And leaves a bad taste to sit

Here's a baker opening shop
Who's a few slices short of a loaf
Abruptly brings his sweets to a stop
To the abandonment, me, the oaf

I had looked forward to his cake
Is Connie not allowed a sugar rush
Yet no reason given to the break
Only an indelible slight and hush

What I'm driving at is not that sweet
But a contest here at Poetry Soup
Where the sponsor got happy feet
And skipped out on the group

His slight, "no winners chosen" ... gang
As every criterion followed to a tee
Yet his answer leaves mouth's to hang
And a body of work to drop to a knee

10/27/22

Tell It Like It Is Poetry Contest

Sponsor-Mystic Rose Rose

N/A

That's all she wrote.

Who Left the Toilet Seat Up

Who left the toilet seat up? The clan began to screech.
It couldn’t have been Baby James, he can barely reach.
Was it that oaf Jim or Uncle Bob the one who sneezes?
I have no idea, someone said, but he does do what he pleases.

Well, Grandma has fallen in and she’s madder than a hen.
We have to call the fire department, and someone has to let them in.
Can’t we pull her out? Asked Uncle seat-leaver-upper with small brain.
Doubtful as part of her is stuck way down somewhere in the drain.

Gumshoe Is Glued

This poem will make the most sense if
you’ve watched the old time television series
“Get Smart.”

GUMSHOE IS GLUED

Silence -
timeless...

The cone
is prone

to make
mistakes.

Boss shares.
Max stares.

“Eh? What?”
“What? What?”

Chief groans.
Lifts cone.

Chaos -
cash loss.

Its cure -
murder.

Control -
its mole.

Oaf spy.
Boob tries.

His shoe
is glued.

Can’t call
in brawl.

His wife
saves life.

Nine-nine
is fine.

They win
Have twins.

Chaos
is boss.

5/7/2021

Farmer Fred the Raconteur

Farmer Fred the raconteur
I’ve often said is full of manure
When spinning yarns of yesteryear
His tales grow taller beer by beer
He orates on about three little pigs
Elucidating eloquently on their building of digs
In Fred’s varied version there is not a wolf
The malefactor being a malcontented oaf

Chili Braggart

I love my own chili,
I know it sounds silly,
heat in pot
nice and hot
it is truly a dilly.

I love my own meatloaf.
I throw on a sugar top.
Other people would
not do it, 
or know how to stop.
I do, you big oaf.
After all, this sugary 
brown sugar ketchup combination
is what makes it my meatloaf.

I love my own cooking.
Restaurants are rarely okay.
My most favorite me-cooked-meal
Navy beans and ham, in a gravy
over cornbread, 
Good thing my husband likes
it too, or things would be coming
to a head.

Sisters Story

Sylvia - She was born a cute little cherubic babe
She reminds me of ringing bells her mother thought
I will name her Sylvia… which sounds like silver bells
She was born in August a true Leo
While the four of us were water bearers
She was so very different from us 
It always appeared that we were ganging up against her
While she always stood to her ground like a true lion 
Master player at board games that is what she was 
Always winning against me.
Yet her nature always soft, gentle, forgiving and generous
She is now married with a brood of seven children
I wonder how she manages it all
Mother says, that oaf has made her a holy cow. 

Hyacinth- Caustic Soda that’s what I could say
Always ready for a battle of words
Sometimes I wonder why we marry at all
It changes us, batters us, I wish we could be the same.
But I think in the end it was for the better.
No matter what she has got a natural flavour.


Sharon- Endearing all with your magnetic personality 
Tall, well groomed and detached 
Like something that someone wants but can never get
Yes you are eternally young and beautiful
No wonder they all chase you like moths.
Oh how I love them all…Sisters….

Different Strokes

5/16/17 

Another foe 
Pulling low blows 
Trying to put me six feet below 
But no 
That wasn't the way I will let it go 
So 
They got took out by the undertow 
In a strong water flow 

Then the reaper in a dark robe 
Took another body and soul across the globe 

They kept wanting to gloat 
About being the goat 
And were left to sink or float 
Within a moat 
Didn't always have to use a boat 

Those that kept trying to boast 
Got a rope 
Around the throat 
Then choked 
And croaked 

Different strokes, for different folks 
Still life is not a joke 
Especially when you're broke 

From coast to coast 
Any that attempted to provoke 
Or attack through dagger and cloak 
Were toast 
And buried among oaks 
On hills with or without slopes 

Whether popular or remote 
Any who poached 
Were given no hope 
And looked at like an oaf 
Quickly gone with the wind like smoke 

By: Dalton Ogletree

Lil Dog

Perky, pesky, pretty-petite;
yippy, yappy, always-in-need-of-a-treat.
Loving, lazy, little-lump;
Cutie, cuddly, see-how-high-I-can-jump?
Spoiled, sneaky, snacky snoot,
Munching on old chips, teething on mum's leather boot,
overly-sweet, oogling oaf,
maybe-just-a-bite-or-perhaps-the-whole-loaf.

It's Burns Nicht 25th January

Jean, Jean wis young an' alive till Ah gied her tatties and neeps;
Noo she's bein' seek as a dug, it fairly gies me the creeps.

Bonnie Mary O' Argyle took a trip tae the Brig O' Doon,
She took a dook oaf the parapet, ended up nearly bein' drooned!

Wee sleakit, cooerin', timorous beastie, ye must think it a sin!
Aw the lassies a' ever kent, wanted tae stab me wi' a pin.

Blythe Hae a' Been on Yon Hill, where a Tippling Ballad ah Wrote;
Gude Ale Keeps the Heart Aboon, when ye drink an awfy lote.

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