Funny Sonnet Poems | Examples
These Funny Sonnet poems are examples of Sonnet poems about Funny. These are the best examples of Sonnet Funny poems written by international poets.
Three thousand chairs are crammed across the field,
A sea of cheap black gowns and melting ice.
We’re sitting trapped without a sunlit shield,
While sweat drips down my neck to mock me twice.
The principal yells names at breakneck pace,
A steady roar from "Aaron" down to "Zane."
I’m stuck somewhere around the middle space,
My rear is numb, my brain feels like pure pain.
By letter M, the afternoon turns harsh,
Lost in a sea of gowns forevermore.
Are we graduating or trapped in a marsh?
The kid beside me starts to nod and snore.
Three thousand names read off without a pause—
I only stayed because my mom said I had to!
Cyberspace, my blue astral projector
I'm not seeking new friends to entertain
I dwell in a big celestial sector
Cradled in great cool mists and northern rain.
Yet, from funny dark galaxies above
Comes bright celestial advice, kind and wise.
The Oak Grove beckons those whom nature loves
To stretch their wings where faery nature flies.
A faery soars through Cosmos, fierce and free.
No longer bound by bedridden routine.
I journeyed back through past pink memories
And glimpsed my magic future, wide and keen.
A verdant woman, celestial and high,
Candle visions that light the morning sky.
Every wonder where they come from?
I’m just glad that I still get some.
Sometimes they’re pleasant and seem good,
sometimes vague and misunderstood.
At times they’re funny or bizarre,
like riding on a shooting star.
Often it seems they’re teaching me,
past life lessons I didn’t see.
Sometimes one seems like dejavu,
in another time I was you.
Then there was one, I wasn’t a man,
my whole body was made of sand.
Dreams are intriguing, so much fun.
Recurring dreams are never done.
Cool waters casade over myriad
rocks. That serpentine creek which heads to sea
Voice lilts,, its charm draws me in period
Fears enters as I sit under the tree
Crescent moon rising gives off lunar light
There appears a phosphorous light green glow
Creatures who are naturally bright at night
Water ripples by, while soft breezes blow
Fear gives way to the beautiful set-up
By God's verdant earth, Lord of creation
Then creatures slither emptying my cup
A lizard, not a nebular station
The negative ions should be soothing
A night visit seems to offer musings
My bars the words, the prison guard my verse,
Rattling the staves of this poetic cell,
I struggle vainly, locked up in this jail.
Yea, thus is my predicament, my curse.
Oh, how jealously, you smirking blank verse,
I look upon what freedom guides your quill;
For formal phrasing does of me compel
Stubborn structures—the styles which I rehearse.
But, boldy bumbling, art is now arising!
Walls becoming my score, and tallies tones, ?Confined to meter, bound by rigid rhyme,
I yet find measures full of surprising
Motifs. The modern poet at sonnets groans,
But I, I do believe they’re quite sublime.
O, idle love that flows where meters clash,
Where sense and vigor do not well align;
For thou the bowl of sense do rudely smash,
For I, the quest for harmony divine.
Think not these matters well enough ignored,
That coursing love shall float us to the shore;
For current-crossing whirls one cannot ford,
The broken ship of love a thing of lore.
And still, there is the sunlight of thy strength,
That doth ignite the world with crooked rays;
So great thy power that knows too short a length,
I fear my sense is lost as I amaze.
And if but once thy rhyme was not the worst,
I know my heart with love should surely burst.
A sonnet and limerick once met
Romantically in tete-a-tete.
The sonnet had grace,
The limerick, no trace:
Make match of your muses, the net.
Where went my package, ordered long ago?
The app displays delivered, but no proof waits
At the door, nor at the store—no box, no crates,
Whereto my package? I simply don’t know…
Was it stolen, picked up by some joe schmo?
Or lost in transit, misplaced, dropped, as fate’s
Great comedy, with mischievous whim dictates?
Whereto my package? I really don’t know…
This stupid app is just no help, I swear,
The tracking code is gone, the “Contact us”
Is missing, or hiding in some strange place,
Tucked away from consumers unaware.
Oh! and to what end, all this tedious fuss?
Where is my package? There’s not a damn trace…
I was drawn to you, from the first instant
something about you aroused my senses
a message unspoken, and insistent
that could somehow bypass my defenses.
I couldn’t show it, you couldn’t know it,
so I sat quietly and ignored you.
When chasing dreams, love is unbefitting
this I’d been told, and so, it must be true.
When I met you again, you were funny,
not what I assumed, you were something new.
Hashtag, as a boyfriend, he’s been money,
such was the start of our kissing booth truth.
My soul was body-shaped still when I died.
I looked the same as I had that same day
though no one saw me when I slipped away!
I do recall my sisters as they cried.
I hung around them so their words I'd hear.
The veil becomes quite thin when one is dead!
I heard a lot of funny things they said.
They could not hear me laugh though I was near.
With some things said I did not quite agree!
Such things though do not matter any more.
I felt such charity inside me swell.
If they could truly know pain fled from me!
If I were visible, I’d take the floor
and say to them, “Grieve not, dear friends. All’s well.”
April 19, 2023
for the I Died Poetry Contest of Craig Cornish
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
He doesn’t like to socialize, nor does
he laugh at funny shows the way I do.
He suffers chronic pain and frets because
he’s worked so long and hard his whole life through.
We’ve had our ups and downs, and that’s for sure,
but I can overlook the bad. Our love
has grown through many years and will endure
because there’s one thing I am certain of.
My husband’s there for me! Though he may lack
a way with words, much tact or great finesse,
I know deep down – he’ll always have my back.
Each year as we grow greyer, he feels stress.
My birthday wish for him is that he’ll find
contentment and – at last – some peace of mind.
Sept. 5, 2021
For Funom Makama's A Poem To Your Spouse On His-Her Birthday Contest
love has drifted and shifted from old days,
from daisies, roses and chocolate trays,
we fall in love, not after meet and look,
love is often through twitter or facebook!
her eyes were so dreamy on her webpage,
her lips so rosy they lit in me rage,
I fondled, kissed the pillow next to me,
dreamt with her I had a family tree!
I messaged her twice and got no reply,
good girls of that age I knew would be shy,
googled and Yahood, finally tracked her down,
knew exactly where she lived in my town!
that evening when we met, my love went cold,
her photo on her webpage was 30 years old!
Written 27/06/2021
Contemporary Sonnet poetry contest
Charlotte Puddifoot sponsored
10 syllables each line
14 lines aabb rhyme sequence with final rhyming couplet.
Ponder the lengthy life of our planet
Here we are for only a bitty blink
Many creative creatures now span it
Each having hardly enough time to think
Seemingly senseless gnashing of the truth
Turning it all about and running round
Silently stopping, then there's just poof
Leaving little trifling traces to be found
Funny how flawed and frail we all are
Never knowing what will nudge us next
Mostly seeking some silly thrills thus far
Impacting human lives to small effect
We were wondering who will carry on
Without warning we poof, then we're gone
6/20/21
My silly man, you inspire me to walk.
I love the way you cuddle and talks,
Invading my mind daily through the night,
Always dreaming about my charming locks.
Let me compare you to an ideal tune?
You are more awesome and more sarcastic.
Black sun heats the funny peaches of June,
And summertime has the amino plastic.
How do I love you? Let me count the ways.
I love your debonair, fingers and style.
Thinking of your strong hand fills my days.
My love for you is the sunny hairstyle.
Now I must away with a surreal heart,
Remember these keen words whilst we're apart.
6/12/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2021©