Short Funk Poems
Short Funk Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Funk by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Funk by length and keyword.
A girl who had just met the Trumps
Was feeling quite down in the dumps
A POTUS grope
Ended all hope
She'd ever get over the humps
you listen to the band
get on the stand
clap your hand
in the sand
stump your feet
to the music beat
hump and bump
to the
SUMMER BEACH FUNK
s
they play that hard stuff
make you dane ruff
only cost a buck
and thats for luck
you do the can can
swing hand to hand
by this
FUNK BAND
you feel it
its a part of a kit
you are the star
you play the guitar
near or far
the music makes you stump
your rump and bump
its funky
GUITAR FUNK
it music that make you move
you get into the grove
you stump
you hump
hips to hip
you dip wine you sip
you sweat you stunk
CAN'T STOP
THE FUNK
mane you or sore
down below
i won't dance
and prance
doing the best you can
you can with lord will
you can bunk and stump
and hoof
GET YOU THE
FUNK FOOT
got got it in there feet
itt digs deep
its a feeling
that kept them reeling
jump hump
and do he bump
do until some stunk
DANCE AND GETTO
AND BLACKS FUNK
it get your attention
this would to mention
as the guitar ring and sing
stings that funk in the guitar
and bring
the good and bad news
its
GUITAR
FUNK AND BLUES
wilting in the setting sun
dissolving deflating
undernourished underfed
neglected rejected
unknown
a mystery
if any degree of pampering
can bring me back to life
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
this is a new time
music is blind
its a feeling
gets you reeling
every one pop there finger
there mind just linger
music not a race its a taste
you can trace where they hump
and bump
EVERYONE LOVES FUNK
Get on floor dance Moore get the funk hump and bump booty to booty sweat get wet shaking that booty do it don,t. So came out have good time let music blow your mind go go do it slow do it fast FUNK SHAKING BOOTy
Must be quite strong and take winter in stride
Rugged Canadian winters are hard to describe
The lack of old sol
Main reason we fall
In a funk till the springtime and the robins arrive
© Jack Ellison 2016
this music is a hot beat
its underneat
i can't help my self
am doing it by myself
am danceing am praceing
all over this places
it got me hot it the face
i can't sit on this bunk
its a treat
DANCEING FEET DANCEING TO THE FUNK
Form:
Why is it so hard to be human now?
How the door close in?
The face turns flaxen
As you imitate
And your secret joke
Of wild monkeys
Rises like a hopping child
Boredom rests as wounded thoughts
Breathe the funk
And take mad the carpet!
The Id
went walking,
The Ego
was talking,
The Super-Ego
cried, "Stop!"
The Libado said,
"Ah, come on
when its done
scream halt."
The Id
went searching,
The Ego
was smiling,
the Super-Ego
cried "Halt!"
The Libado said,
"Ah, fug it!"
So
The Id
did.
Form:
Summer time blue funk
Can't stand all this humid stuff
I have had enough
Car's like an oven
Air-conditioner's working
But the heat is winning
Sweat just pours off me
Clothes and sand stick to bodies
Go to a nude beach
There it's no torture
To frolic in the water
And to "hang" out there...
NOTE: This limerick posted 10/31/2020 in
Alexis Y.’s PEE YEW Collaboration
Take a look at the collaboration on her page! It's hilarious!
I once was peed on by a stinky skunk
Stinky not quite the word – he stunk!
I tried each known cure
Retained his allure
I am still surrounded by funk
Oh the gray of day
The plump raindrop sheltered in the corner of the pane
Reflecting and magnifying the gray
Gray, gray, gray
Downward funk please leave
This raindrop has much to do
And the gray tarp is no shelter
How we need the full spectrum to create
Oh gray of day
Release one of your misty rainbows
So that I may look beyond
drowning
in fountains of learned ink
and lit keys
Lost and flailing...
Did it ever matter?
nobody would even notice
if sunlight goes black,
hidden behind sleeping will.ows
muffled by snores
and striped-barked trees
stifled pattern
viewed through stubborn lashes,
through discolored eyes
Soon,, the air
572017126a 126a156
I'm crying in my beer for good reason
Super Bowl's the last game of the season
No more tater chips and beer
What am I to do all year
Except watch reruns of Jackie Gleason
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Right Reserved
Entry for Royal Trevino's "Super Bowl Sunday" Contest
The Bird Water Whistle
Rendition # twenty one
------------------------------------
he don't think people like him
by; Ya'll and Them
__________________________________
She say slurp
I say slurp
we say slurp
then we sing slurp, slurp
slurp
slurp
slurp
slurp
slurp
slurp
slurp, slurp!
slurp!
Slurp!
Slurp!
Slurp
Slurp, slurp
Slurp!
(applaued, Bravo, Bravo!)
Keep running up those Credit Card Bill's
For Cheap Thrill's
Accumulating Interest
Until your Closet is Full
Of Discarded Clutter
You can hopefully Sell 1 late night on E-Bay
To the Countless Masses
Out there phishing just like you
For Space Fillers
To place on Mantle Pieces
Where Photographs used to Play
Before the Recession Funk had time to Set
I am in a funk and I can't get out.
I feel like a door is slowly closing in on me.
BAM!
It finally has closed on me.
I am stuck and scared that I will never get out.
My mind is telling me to quit, but my heart says keep going with every beat it takes.
I guess I need to make a decision.
Before this door is locked forever.
I choose to keep on going and find a way.
There are some people on the other side waiting for me.
My family.
Form:
It's so hard, sometimes
To remove this cerement
To muster a veritable smile
To schlepp out of the sediment
It will end, I know
When authentic smiles will replace
The disingenuous air
I bedaub to my face
The crazy part is, it seems
That the solution to my abasement
Though well within my clout
Looms just far of my embracement
Motivation! To do the work
For which I have the skill
Seems lacking in my repertoire
As does the supportive shill
Form: