Funny Personification Poems | Examples
These Funny Personification poems are examples of Personification poems about Funny. These are the best examples of Personification Funny poems written by international poets.
"Time... Always here but never here." By Poet
Time is a funny thing since time does not always seem real,
yet I have been here since the beginning of time.
Time cannot be seen or touched,
but I am everywhere.
Many find me to be very rich,
when they call me quality of time.
Could I be used as currency?
Would I need to show myself to you?
I am already currency for many,
putting smiles on faces for volunteering.
My currency as grandparent's time,
having loving grandkids by their side.
Guess who my best friend is?
It is barter.
Barter and I go hand in hand,
making many lives richer.
Time is used daily as a currency,
when you need help the most.
Someone will help you out,
out with their precious time.
"Have me with tea and honey.
My upside is always sunny."
That would be the boast
of a breakfast I think funny.
"Though I'm a little runny,
I'm the best bet for your money",
said the egg on toast.
There was a tiger named Tony
his passion was for tasty macaroni ~
For some obscure reason, the powers that be
decided bowls of frosted flakes it would be
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Connor Constrictor
crept through the carpet.
Marianne Marmot
marched through the market
singing, “Hi hey hi hey hi hey ho!”
Boys and girls join in singing,
“Hi hey hi hey hi hey ho!”
Tutu Toucan
turned to and fro
while Wally Walrus
watched in slow mo.
Singing, “Hi hey hi hey hi hey ho!”
Boys and girls join in singing,
“Hi hey hi hey hi hey ho!”
Kami Chameleon
chewed a crumpet
and Tommy Tortoise
tuned up his trumpet
playing, “Hi hey hi hey hi hey ho!”
Boys and girls join in singing,
“Hi hey hi hey hi hey ho!”
All the animals
clamored for more,
more of the funny
musical score
singing, “Hi hey hi hey hi hey ho!”
Boys and girls join in singing,
“Hi hey hi hey hi hey ho!”
The smell of cantaloupe is enticing
Yearning to feel it’s smoothly texture
It beckons me to it with an unworldly call
The slippery flesh is on my earthly skin
As I hold the fruit it embraces me,
How sweet! How kind it is!
I sympathize and crave it!
A plant that is living and purring
Communicates to us with undecipherable
Decibels that can be heard from beyond our senses
But, I’m hungry; so hungry!
Tearing apart it’s flesh
It’s now a part of me; broken down to a
Molecular level.
Up here Inside there at the Center
My Voices quickly Come slap again
They Point it out and Run it down harsh
It Smarts
Voices Voices I got it I Hear you
Voices Voices I know it I’m Listening
Over another Off to the Left
My Voices funny Voices clever Chatting
They Smile at me and Nod yeah yeah
It's Good
Voices Voices I got it I Hear you
Voices Voices I know it I’m Listening
Backwards Sideways Rolling along
My Voices Remember Odd defiant now
They Mix it up and Flesh it out nice
It Kicks
Voices Voices I got it I Hear you
Voices Voices I know it I’m Listening
Front toward Right under All the way
My Voices harden Voices strong Pushing
They Grab on and Hold tight Straight up
It’s Solid
Voices Voices I got it I Hear you
Voices Voices I know it I’m Listening
She lingers waiting for me to make a mistake.
I feel her, sneering at me, ready to pounce.
Unsure how she originated, but I keep her masked.
Cover her up with a brilliant smile,
Being Robin William funny, so no one knows
Except me….
She goads me with pokes and prods
Trying to get me morose and sad.
I am aware of her power
I dare not give in to her.
She can take me down harder than a Mack Truck
I don’t remember you ever saying counters were off limits ~
AP: Honorable Mention 2021
I have held my last pot of hot soup
I've come to the end of my threads
Befraggled and muffed
Bedraggled and fruffed
A raddled cloth corpse that's dead
Frayed so soft and shabby
As the cotton boll that bore me
Worn to a frazzle
I have lost all my dazzle
Faded and haggard and tatty
So tattered in my casing
My splayed stuffing is facing
The dog who has chewed
What was left!
May 11, 2020
The Potholder Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Craig Cornish
Well, my left sided hand just isn’t my fave,
I don’t let it do anything,
If there’s ever a contest of “Who is the best?”,
My right is the one that will win,
It can’t button, can’t write, can’t hold a cold beer,
Can’t handle a racquet or ball,
It can’t do little tasks in day to day life,
No matter how big or how small,
But my right hand it can, it holds a place in my heart,
My right is right by my side,
My right hand has always helped me along,
Ever since I was the littlest child,
As a matter of fact, I’ve a wonderful plan,
A plan I might start later today,
I’ll go on a holiday, just my right hand and me,
To a beautiful place far away.
A MYNAH BIRD CONFESSES
“Bonjour”
“Hello”
“Aloha”
I speak in many tongues,
this intelligent passerine.
“Shh, don’t let on
but I’ve seen the neighborhood burglar.
He’s confessed to me.”
He says, “I’ll tear at your wings.”
and I repeat, “I’ll tear at your wings.”
I think he takes me seriously as he makes a run for it.
Poor chap. His bag of goods flew. I caught them midair
as I echoed the siren.
“Shoo little birdie. I have the jewelry. Don’t tell anyone.”
The boys in blue appear amused as I land on a shoulder. They took me in for evidence. Funny to see a grown man cry inside a cage, as I look on -
a freebird.
7/7/2019
C’mon ladies,
it is me you love and you know it,
from the bottom of your golden feathers;
Now, now, cut the chitchat.
I am not rat,
I am a rooster
who can whip any cat.
You bet your sweet cackles
I’ll whip their hackles!
I can peel their paws and
bite off their claws ‘cause
I’m a rooster,
before they know it those felines
will be in a dead-stupor.
I promise ladies,
you’ll get no twaddle
from my wattle.
C’mon my lovely hens,
it’s time fun began.
7-1-19
"Pick A Title, Vol 6 - Personification - Poetry Contest"
Edward Ibeh
Geez, that’s not fair!
Stop growling so viciously you monster; whoa!
I’ve got to get out of here…it’s got Mom’s arm!
I jump and run for dear life and shout,
“Go pick on somebody else’s cat!”
It growled, ate part of the carpet
and died instantly.
Mom calls it a, “Cheap vacuum”,
as she pulls her hand from its’ mouth.
I’m terrified and relieved;
it didn’t chew her hand off but,
it obviously tried to swallow her whole…
it got what it deserved!
The barnyard was a twitter.
“She is walking pigeon-toed!”
“You should see it.”
“She thinks she is all that!”
I am dragged out to see.
After listening to them cackle like only hens can do.
There are sixty-six hundred chickens out here
Clucking around.
They are all walking around pigeon-toed.
Haughty with their snobby beaks in the air.
I catch the rooster’s eye.
“They all have fat butts too!” I say.
Expecting him to beak-laugh with me.
He gives them my message in beak-talk.
They surround me quickly
Pecking me to death
As per
instructions
and as per
chickens’ way
I decide never to
do that again.
As I fall into their
smelly chicken scratches.
No other cats are blue.
Why me?
She is a weirdy-cat herself, this artist woman.
Her cartoon witches are laughable, and I am blue?
Uh-oh. Here she comes again.
Yesterday she added hot pink to my ears.
I thought I was done!
I am irritated now. What is she about?
Glitter!
Glitter is a girl’s color!
Don’t approach me with that horrible glitzy silver….
Ugh!
Now I have it in my mouth.
I hate artists,
Her, in particular.
No telling what she will do to me tomorrow.
Hey! No tail!
What cartoon cat has no tail?
Crap. The brown cat does not have a tail either.
And she calls herself an artist. Scoff.