Humorous Poems
Canaries quaver, robins chirp
Swallows twitter, doves coo
Falcons chant, linnets chuckle
Rooks caw, cuckoos cuckoo
Swallows twitter, sparrows trill
Thrushes whistle, finches pink
Blue jays chatter, parrots talk
Cardinals and skylarks sing
But nothing mellifluous sweetens my ear
Like how you whisper my name, my dear!
Nothing irks you more as a tease
Than an unconsummated sneeze
If the tree could shed its leaves at Fall
And have them back in the wake of Spring
Or, if a bird could molt her plumage all
And have it grown on a feathery wing
Then why is it that a head of hair
Must lose it all and remain bare?
If baldness, as some say, is hereditary
‘Specially governed by the maternal side
And if man were a primate in his ancestry
As the evolutionists seem to provide
Then how is it that I'm yet to gape
At the shiny scalp of a bald ape?
If a face devoid of bristles is “clean”
As our society has come to claim it
Or, if the sky bereft of clouds is “clear”
As countless songs often proclaim it
Then why must a hairless head be called
Neither clean nor clear but simply bald?
If “hairy” implies a condition sticky
And “hair-raising” something very awing
Or, if “splitting hairs” means nitpicky
And “getting in one's hair” annoying
Then why not women in fond pursuit
Select hairless over hirsute?
If disheveled hair is uncivilized
And a matted chest abhorrent
Or, if pubic hair is ostracized
And a werewolf deemed aberrant
Then why is a balding head anemic
When it is so very hygienic?
Well, the prejudice has spread everywhere
So some wear a toupee, some others a wig
And some have surgically implanted hair
While others sport high hats or bonnets big
But the few who bare their heads so proud
Sure stand out and shine in a crowd!
Mustaches come in a variety of ways
Some date back to even prehistoric days
Just clinging to the lip or all over the chin
They adorn an otherwise ordinary grin
Next time at the mall or a barber shop
Take a minute or two to witness the crop
Of hairy caterpillars of every kind
Portraying the psychology of mankind
The Handlebar mustache with waxed tips
Serves to balance a pair of jumbo lips
And the Horseshoe shape is grown to draw
Attention away from a gigantic jaw
The Pencil-line mustache, you may perhaps loathe,
But the poor bloke hardly gets any growth
The Walrus mustache, on the other hand,
Is the result of a troublesome thyroid gland
And the droopy strands of the Fu Manchu
Must be for the practitioners of Kung Fu
And the square roots of the Chaplin era
Must be a comical outlet for the camera
Now to the colors, if I might add,
The real black ones aren't so bad
The red ones stand out, the browns are quiet
And the blonds must be put on a protein diet
As for the texture, each one is unique
The bristly ones need pruning once a week
The wiry must be twirled, waxing not needed
And the silky tend to mat if left unheeded
So there you have it, all said and done
Mustaches are certainly a lot of fun
I don't profess to be a mustache maven
After all, I'm just another clean-shaven
I had promised a puppy when my son turned five
In keeping with my word, I took him for a drive
My wife stayed home in a restless state of stupor
She imagined a big dog, her with the pooper scooper
We drove to many kennels, our journey bore no fruit
The season seemed too frigid for a doggedly pursuit
So all through the winter my missus had us reading
Magazines on Dachshunds and dogs of mini-breeding
Soon with the tulips and robins came Spring
Our puppy search was unleashed in one giant swing
The pet stores were teeming with pups of all sizes
The nomenclature of the breeds held a few surprises
Cock-a-Poo seemed simple—Spaniel and Poodle
Scottie X we reasoned as Terrier and oodle
Chow-a-Box was certainly no carry-out Chinese
Peek-a-Boo was probably Pit bull and Pekinese
Regardless of the choices not a single mutt came through
My son loathed the lickers, the wetters turned him blue
We left the shopping mall somewhat sullen in our plight
Now headed for a kennel club, we took a dogleg right
The kennel sure was littered with a hundred kindly cur
The variety was breathtaking in color, shape and fur
There were toy breeds and lapdogs of every pedigree
From Chihuahuas to Shih Tzus, all tugging at the knee
There amidst the colony of canines roamed my son
Probing through the pricey pack of puppies one by one
Meantime in my wanderings I chanced upon a browser
Miniature and black, a most magnificent Schnauzer
Flooding with the joy of having found the perfect critter
I hurried forth to show my child my pick of the litter
But thereupon I saw him with a growler, not a smiler
The creature he had chosen was an awesome Rottweiler
The picture of the quadruped was posted on the wall
The monster bore no likeness to a dog, first of all
The Germans had them bred for centuries on end
To be a soldier of war, not a man's best friend
I pleaded with my son, reproached him as a parent
No bribery would sway the mind of my heir apparent
The Schnauzer he agreed to but the Rott was his best
I bought them both to terminate the tiresome puppy quest
The home front was wrought with the fury of my spouse
She entertained no reasons for two mongrels in the house
Heart-rending appeals followed, she did finally concede
And then came the question of the dreaded dogs’ breed
The Schnauzer was no problem, the statistics were legal
The other pup I portrayed as part Basset and part Beagle
She quizzed me on the size of the cruel-looking bounder
My estimate when fully grown—a tiny twenty pounder
Weeks went on when not a care was furrowed on my brow
House-breaking kept us loitering the sidewalks anyhow
Sheera was the Schnauzer and she never had us bitchin'
Crockett was the carefree male who pottied in the kitchen
Soon the teething season came, the bones were not enough
The rascals they were gnawing on the furniture and stuff
We kept them barricaded, thought nothing of their groans
Until such time when Crockett found his erogenous zones
My better half then took the dogs for a hormone scrutiny
It marked the day when darker clouds eclipsed my destiny
The vet had shown the picture of a pedigree Rott to her
Instantly she rang me up, her words spewed fire and slur
I was hounded by guilt feelings, I felt harrier than hell
My throat was a little husky, my nerves a-pinscher as well
No logic nor repentance would shepherd me from her wrath
I had lied exponentially to the power of N in math
Past a brief spell of cold war, we reached a compromise
We'd find a home for Crockett, not sell him for a price
Meantime I should enlist him in a nearby canine school
And have him coached repeatedly on every doggy rule
The whelp he learned quickly and he mastered every drill
He progressed like a student of perfection, if you will
He sat, stayed, heeled and obeyed, a dog so well tutored
After eight weeks of training we also got him neutered
The word-of-mouth soon got around, we felt a few nibbles
But they were new to puppy dogs, new to Bits 'n Kibbles
Then one day like in a fairy tale my friend in Denver said
They'd love to have our rowdy Rott very gladly in their stead
Crockett now is in Colorado in a house with a six acre lot
Where he and their tawny horse take an occasional trot
He is happy and cared for, there is nothing more to tell
These are verses out of puppy love in a poetic doggerel
I tend to be picky, somewhat finicky
When it comes to food
I refuse to intake a venomous snake
To prove my manhood
I feel squeamish o’er a slice of raw fish
Sushi kills my saliva
I badly quiver upon a camel’s liver
I’d rather see it aliva
I lack the nerves for strange hors d’oeuvres
Caramelized ants, I dread
I am not a popper of honeyed grass hopper
I prefer starving instead
My faculties fog at the limbs of a frog
I don’t feel too yippee
It disturbs my gizzard to eat a lizard
Please skip the recipe
As for kippers and those with flippers
Anchovies cause me trauma
I decline to savor the taste or flavor
It conflicts with my Karma
And if I could harp on the subject of carp
The creature curls my toes
I am a party pooper when it comes to grouper
My veins turn varicose
I seldom go searchin’ for sautéed sea urchin
I don’t flex ‘em mussels
And heaven forbid, I should accost a squid
It’s hard on my corpuscles
As for scallops, my heartbeat gallops
The same with the octopus
I hold an embargo on shelled escargot
It chokes my esophagus
I am ill at ease to sample head cheese
Sweetbreads, no thank you
I badly shudder at a tongue or udder
That goes for brains, too
On fancier things like chitterlings
My taste buds do retreat
I procrastinate when served a plate
Of pickled pig’s feet
And I am no glutton of any wild mutton
Like moose or caribou
I refuse to combat a possum or wombat
Ditto for kangaroo
I need no smidgen of squab or pigeon
You may call me a snob
Let us not quibble, I’d rather nibble
On a corn on the cob
(This is a true story of my friend Tim’s successful courtship with Libby, delivered in a somewhat southern style, using every state in USA as a pun. See footnote for clarification.)
Well, it started in a party where
Tim i'd-a-ho lot at Lib and vice versa.
I thought it'd never-mon-tan'a thing
but one thing led to another,
it isn't D.C. to explain.
Joshin' with his swig of brew
miss-i-ssip-pi did and spilled
on Libby's brand new jersey.
She was cross coz the stain won't go
even as she tried washing tons of times.
Nevadaless she giggled at all his apologizin'
and eyed hi'm inne-sota way that was electric.
Tim and I go back ways so I new hamp-shire
to ease up on love's gas pedal, not flor-id'a.
I new m-exico'lly well to avoid any tennessee
to let Libby get his libido exploding.
But you can't always georg-ia book by its cover.
Well, he took her drivin' and left me out cold
to hitch a ride or ok'lahoma.
I thought he'd nebr-ask-a out but I was wrong.
Their romance was wyoming up to steamy heights.
Consequently neither the dime nor th'da kota would do
coz he'd col-or-odomatically day and night
and life without lib was such missouri.
What te'xas months of courtin' took 'em just days.
Either she had a screw louis-ian-a or e-gon crazy
but it wasn't a problem arkan-sas
so I figured I ken-tucky as long as his career
in healthcaro-lin' a feared didn't go R.I.
I said to Tim, “I don't know when-ew yor-kidding,
when you ain't so without puttin' virg-in-ia mouth
tell me, are u-tah serious?” and he glowed like neon.
Knowing Lib less, I thought al-ask-a the same but then
a girl from the south might f'ill-inois'd at an alien
askin' what's personal and mightn't think twice to
pull out a michi'gan and cal-i-forn'ia!
Every good romance kansas of candy hearts and valentines.
The mailman couldn't delaware enough cards back and forth
between Tim cooin': “Gal, I think so-hi-o you,” and Lib echoin':
“Hawa-ii, my maine man, i-ow-a lot to you!”
And all of this mania of pen and Pennsylvania
went on for weeks which none of wis-con-sincerely pooh pooh
coz unlike some romances, it wasn't al-a-bama.
And they were to m'ari-zona or later.
Then it all happened—Tim proposed and Lib accepted!
How conn-ecticut or good manners come in the way
of a passionate kiss? They indulged lipsmackin' rough in public.
Their folks met and concurred that it was democratic to let
the massa-chus-ett's own destiny, and blessed their united states.
As they entered the mary-land of matrimony,
I was tickled most coz it all worked out Indiana.
NOTE:
A few poetic licenses taken: not florida (not floor it); new mexicolly (knew him equally); oklahoma (walk home); lousiana oregon (lose in her or he gone); arkansa (I can solve); i kentucky (I can take it); R.I. (awry); f'illinois'd (feel annoyed); michigan (machine gun); california (kill a foreigner); none of wisconsincerely (none of us can sincerely); alabama (all a bummer); Indiana (in the end).
A poem for you so inkable
A thought for you so thinkable
Your beauty always unblinkable
You are, I dare say, very winkable
Your nose is cute and crinkable
Your smile makes the Titanic sinkable
Your laughter, a summer brook, drinkable
And you make my armor chinkable
To approach, I wish you were inchable
As a bet, I wish you were cinchable
Your cheeks so sweetly pinchable
I wish, alas, you were clinchable
Around you, my head is reelable
My vocal chords so squealable
Oh, the Cupid's dart is feelable
Is the wound ever healable?
The only you
Welldonely you
Such funly you
Soft bunly you
By jovely you
So lovely you
Wow wowly you
Coo dovely you
Such shapely
Sex drapely you
Sweet mapley you
Vine grapely you
Shy blushly you
Blood rushly you
Sweet thrushly you
Such lushly you
Cute bugly you
Love drugly you
So snugly you
Me hugly you
I fancy you
Romancy you
Hold handsy you
Go dancy you
So finely you
Cloud ninely you
Me pinely you
Be minely you?
That marine mammal, the manatee,
Has no fancy fins, no sign of vanity
And it sure bamboozles one’s sanity
How a manatee woos a womanatee