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HUMOR POEMS
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The Pobble Who Has No Toes


The Pobble who has no toes
Had once as many as we;
When they said, "Some day you may lose them all";--
He replied,--"Fish fiddle de-dee!"
And his Aunt Jobiska made him drink,
Lavender water tinged with pink,
For she said, "The World in general knows
There's nothing so good for a Pobble's toes!"
The Pobble who has no toes,
Swam across the Bristol Channel;
But before he set out he wrapped his nose
In a piece of scarlet flannel.
For his Aunt Jobiska said, "No harm
Can come to his toes if his nose is warm;
And it's perfectly known that a Pobble's toes
Are safe,--provided he minds his nose."
The Pobble swam fast and well
And when boats or ships came near him
He tinkledy-binkledy-winkled a bell
So that all the world could hear him
And all the Sailors and Admirals cried,
When they saw him nearing the further side,--
"He has gone to fish, for his Aunt Jobiska's
Runcible Cat with crimson whiskers!"
But before he touched the shore,
The shore of Bristol Channel,
A sea-green Porpoise carried away
His wrapper of scarlet flannel.
And when he came to observe his feet
Formerly garnished with toes so neat
His face at once became forlorn
On perceiving that all his toes were gone!
And nobody ever knew
From that dark day to the present,
Whoso had taken the Pobble's toes,
In a manner so far from pleasant.
Whether the shrimps or crawfish gray,
Or crafty Mermaids stole them away--
Nobody knew; and nobody knows
How the Pobble was robbed of his twice five toes!
The Pobble who has no toes,
Was placed in a friendly Bark,
And they rowed him back, and carried him up,
To his Aunt Jobiska's Park.
And she made him a feast at his earnest wish
Of eggs and buttercups fried with fish;--
And she said,--"It's a fact the whole world knows,
That Pobbles are happier without their toes."


There Was a Young Lady Called Bright

Anonymous

There was a young lady called Bright
Who would travel faster than light.
She started one day
In the relative way
And returned on the previous night
The Pobble Who Has No Toes


Sitting Pretty


Margaret Fishback
How nice to be a local swan
With quarters in the Park upon
That pond close to the Plaza where,
Despite the lack of rural air,
And sun, there's such a lovely view
It gives a bird plenty to do
Just lolling back and looking . . .
That's
A program for aristocrats!


The Complacent Cliff-Dweller


Margaret Fishback
I have a little home amidst the city's din
With kitchenette and shower bath and tub thrown in,
With fresh milk and vegetables and taxis close at hand--
The country can't beat that though Nature is grand.
The garbage is collected and I am not concerned
With where the men take it to be drowned or burned.
There are lots of different places that I can go for lunch
And autumn leaves are selling at fifty cents a bunch.


Horse Sense

Anonymous
A horse can't pull while kicking.
This fact I merely mention.
And he can't kick while pulling,
Which is my chief contention.
Let's imitate the good old horse
And lead a life that's fitting;
Just pull an honest load, and then
There'll be no time for kicking


There Was a Young Lady of Wilts

Cosmo Monkhouse
There was a young lady of Wilts,
Who walked up to Scotland on stilts;
When they said it was shocking
To show so much stocking
She answered: "Then what about kilts?"


There Was an Old Man of Tarentum


Cosmo Monkhouse
There was an old man of Tarentum,
Who gnashed his false teeth till he bent 'em:
And when asked for the cost
Of what he had lost,
Said, "I really can't tell, for I rent 'em!"

How Doth the Little Crocodile

Lewis Carroll
How doth the little crocodile
Improve his shining tail;
And pour the waters of the Nile
On every golden scale!
How cheerfully he seems to grin,
How neatly spreads his claws,
And welcomes little fishes in,
With gently smiling jaws!


Get Up, Get Up

Anonymous
Get up, get up, you lazy-head,
Get up you lazy sinner,
We need those sheets for tablecloths,
It's nearly time for dinner.


Too Great a Sacrifice
Anonymous
The maid, as by the papers doth appear,
Whom fifty thousand dollars made so dear,
To test Lothario's passion, simply said,
"Forego the weed before we go to wed.
For smoke, take flame; I'll be that flame's bright fanner.
To have your Anna, give up your Havana."
But he, when thus she brought him to the scratch,
Lit his cigar, and threw away his match.
For I Will Consider My Cat Jeoffrey
Christopher Smart


For I will consider my Cat Jeoffrey.
. . .
For having done duty and received blessing he begins to consider himself.
For first he looks upon his fore-paws to see if they are clean.
For secondly he kicks up behind to clear away there.
For thirdly he works it upon stretch with the fore-paws extended.
For fourthly he sharpens his paws by wood.
For fifthly he washes himself.
For sixthly he rolls upon wash.
For Seventhly he fleas himself, that he may not be interrupted upon the beat.
For Eighthly he rubs himself against a post.
For Ninthly he looks up for his instructions.
For Tenthly he goes in quest of food. . . .
For if he meets another cat he will kiss her in kindness.
For when he takes his prey he plays with it to give it a chance.
For one mouse in seven escapes by his dallying.
For when his day’s work is done his business more properly begins.
For he keeps the Lord’s watch in the night against the adversary.
For he counteracts the powers of darkness by his electrical skin & glaring eyes. . . .
For in his morning orisons he loves the sun and the sun loves him.
For he is of the tribe of Tiger. . . .


Horse

Anonymous
I know two things about the horse,
And one of them is rather coarse.


The Owl and the Pussy-Cat
Edward Lear

The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea
In a beautiful pea-green boat,
They took some honey, and plenty of money
Wrapped up in a five-pound note.
The Owl looked up to the stars above,
And sang to a small guitar,
"O lovely Pussy! O Pussy, my love,
What a beautiful Pussy you are,
You are,
You are!
What a beautiful Pussy you are!

Pussy said to the Owl, "You elegant fowl!
How charmingly sweet you sing!
O let us be married! Too long we have tarried;
But what shall we do for a ring?"
They sailed away, for a year and a day,
To the land where the Bong-tree grows
And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood
With a ring at the end of his nose,
His nose,
His nose,
With a ring at the end of his nose.

"Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling
Your ring?" Said the Piggy, "I will."
So they took it away, and were married next day
By the Turkey who lives on the hill.
They dined on mince, and slices of quince,
Which they ate with a runcible spoon;
And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,
They danced by the light of the moon,
The moon,
The moon,
They danced by the light of the moon.


So That's Who I Remind Me Of
Ogden Nash

When I consider men of golden talents,
I'm delighted, in my introverted way,
To discover, as I'm drawing up the balance,
How much we have in common, I and they.

Like Burns, I have a weakness for the bottle,
Like Shakespeare, little Latin and less Greek;
I bite my fingernails like Aristotle;
Like Thackeray, I have a snobbish streak.

I'm afflicted with the vanity of Byron,
I've inherited the spitefulness of Pope;
Like Petrarch, I'm a sucker for a siren,
Like Milton, I've a tendency to mope.

My spelling is suggestive of a Chaucer;
Like Johnson, well, I do not wish to die
(I also drink my coffee from the saucer);
And if Goldsmith was a parrot, so am I.

Like Villon, I have debits by the carload,
Like Swinburne, I'm afraid I need a nurse;
By my dicing is Christopher out-Marlowed,
And I dream as much as Coleridge, only worse.

In comparison with men of golden talents,
I am all a man of talent ought to be;
I resemble every genius in his vice, however heinous-
Yet I write so much like me.


Judged by the Company One Keeps

Anonymous

One night in late October,
When I was far from sober,
Returning with my load with manly pride,
My feet began to stutter,
So I lay down in the gutter,
And a pig came near and lay down by my side;
A lady passing by was heard to say:
"You can tell a man who boozes,
By the company he chooses,"
And the pig got up and slowly walked away.


Three Young Rats With Black Felt Hats
Anonymous

Three young rats with black felt hats,
Three young ducks with white straw flats,
Three young dogs with curling tails,
Thee young cats with demi-veils
Went out to walk with two young pigs
In satin vests and sorrel wings,
But suddenly it chanced to rain
And so they all went home again.


The Moron

Anonymous

See the happy moron,
He doesn't give a damn!
I wish I were a moron-
My God! Perhaps I am!
There Was an Old Man of Toulouse
Anonymous
There was an old man of Toulouse
Who purchased a new pair of shoes;
When they asked, "Are they pleasant?"
He said, "Not at present!"
That turbid old man of Toulouse.


I Am Not A Poet

I am not a poet.
my teacher didn't know it.


The Fifth Day of Dieting . . .

The fifth day of dieting...
"I'm doing quite well."
"Carrots taste great,
cottage cheese- swell."

"Not one thing caloric
has passed through my lips.
I don't yearn for Big Macs,
nor crave nacho chips."

"My mood's sweet and sunny,
I'm not edgy at all.
I breeze through aerobics,
and jog at the mall."

"I've lost weight already,
my dress size is ten.
I hate everything chocolate...
It's a cinch to get thin!"

Oh ... one little detail
I guess you'll surmise :
whenever I diet,
I start telling LIES!


Fast Food for Thought

The moment I leave a fast food den
doggerel verse drips from my pen.
I suffer from triteness and hackneyed style.
my meter and iambs are off by a mile!

Just moments after I've dined 'a-la-Wendy'
my rhyme-schemes tangle, my topics get trendy.
Whenever a cheeseburger fattens my bones,
all I can write is little 'Mc Poems."


There Once Was A Man Who Drank Wine

There once was a man who drank wine
He thought it was good and divine
He was told to stop
Or dead he would drop
Ignoring he ran out of time


A Mom and Pop Poem

No such thing as 'Father Nature'.
We don't wait for 'Mother Time'.
Saying 'old lady' Winter
would be an awful crime!

There's no 'Mother'of our country,
no 'father' earth to save.
if so, my poor 'foremothers'
would roll over in their graves.

I guess we should go back to school
to take some English lessons.
They'd help us to correctly use
those parent(thetical) expressions!


The Cravin'

Once upon a midnight boring, while her husband lay there snoring
Quite fatigued from rugged work-a-day, as many husbands are;
While he lay there nice and cozy, chubby cheeks all warm and rosy,
In the middle of his doze, he was awakened by her jar...
And a smack upon his forehead did accompany that jar,
As she told him, "Chocolate bar."

Ah, distinctly I recall, it was October and the fall, it
Was ridiculous to stall it, but the store was pretty far...
So he told her, "Wait till morning."--with a smile these words adorning,
Then she shot a look of warning, saying, "You don't want to spar.
With a woman who needs chocolate, you are NOT prepared to spar."
She repeated, "Chocolate bar."

And the silken sheets he lay on and his jammies made of rayon
Made him think, "Well, I'll just play on what her great desires are."
So he said, "Forget the candy. I can make you feel just dandy."
...But a flower vase was handy. She said, "This may leave a scar.
If I break this on your head, I think it just may leave a scar.
Now, my husband, chocolate bar."

And with this, he clearly fretted. She said, "You men just don't get it!
Chocolate's better! There. I said it. For that matter, so's ER!
Chocolate ecstasy lasts longer! The effect is somewhat stronger.
Think you beat that? Well, you're wrong, or you've been dreaming. Get the car.
I may let you have your fun when you get back. Now, get the car.
I must have my chocolate bar."

"But there's ice cream in the kitchen! We've got cookies! Stop your pitchin'
Fits! I know your tummy's itchin', but I don't feel up to par!
I'll bring chocolate home tomorrow." Then she bowed her head in sorrow,
Said, "I guess the store's too far. Okay. I guess the store's too far.
Like your love for me is just too weak...I guess the store's too far.
You don't love me. Chocolate bar."

Then he knew the talk had ended. He thought, "This thing won't be mended
Till I get this fool her splendid chocolate. Women!! They're bizarre!!
All the week I'm workin', slavin', takin' trash out and behavin'--
Then she gets this stupid cravin'--and I lose my R&R!
For some stupid piece of chocolate I must lose my R&R!
She just murmured, "Chocolate bar."

So her husband learned his lesson. Now he knows you don't be messin'
With a woman who's obsessin'--if you want to be her star.
Skip the poetry and flowers. Don't waste precious days and hours
Using all your meager powers writing lyrics for guitar...
No, she doesn't want your body or sweet songs from your guitar.
Just give woman chocolate bar.


Categorically Speaking

A.THINGS THAT MAKE ME HIT THE ROOF:

a)Bottle caps marked childproof;
b)Deodorants that don't go 'poof';
c)Fillings falling from a tooth;
d) A sacreligious movie spoof;
e) and gurus who are into "truth."

B.THINGS THAT CAUSE MY HEART TO SING:

a)Fragrant crocuses in spring;
b)Feathers on a duckling's wing,
c)The softness of a baby's skin;
d)Laughter that all children bring-
e)and knowing God is listening!


I Used To Be

I used to be,
A toddler,
Waiting to be fed.
Now I am older,
And have to work,
To buy my own bread.


The Meath


David Silver
If you ever come upon a meath
Beware of its humongous teeth,
Because if it gets a hold of you, you'll be in his stomach far beneath.

Beware of the meath's speed,
For when it starts chasing you, you'll need a very large lead,
If a meath gets a hold of you, just plainly concede.

Beware of the meath's eyesight,
For even if you're in the dark he can see you nice and bright,
Believe me, I'm always right.

Beware of the meath's weight-a ton!
If you ever meet a meath and you're the only one
Chances are you won't be around much longer, but if you want to be I suggest-RUN!!!!


High Fidelity


"My Precious Darling, I'll love you forever."
"Uh-huh," was her answer...
(Not very clever)

"My Sweetheart, I'll give you the moon and the sky."
She stared straight ahead,
a glazed look in her eye.

"The love in my heart eternally lingers,"
She nodded her head
and just snapped her fingers.

"He's never romantic," she complained to a friend
and turned the sound up
on her head-set again.

The Purple Cow's Answer

I've always been a purple cow
It's not so hard to take.
Purple's better anyhow
'Cause brown cows turn to steak!


A Housewife's Report Card

If God had a grading system
for performances on earth,
here's how a report card
would rate a housewife's worth:

"Her clothes aren't Paris fashions,
she knows not how to dress...
On 'general appearances'
she'd rate a six, I guess.

When she works for charities
for results she'll always strive---
so in 'money earning'power
she'd only get a five.

Her housekeeping is lacking,
toys scattered on the floor,
diapers hanging on the line -
in 'neatness' give her four.

She does not make a living;
just bolsters up her mate.
If she does so, uncomplaining
she deserves, at least, an eight."

That housewife - in God's notebook
has outscored the best of them
because - my friends and neighbors-
as a MOTHER she gets TEN!


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