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Sunny2's avatar

Care to share poetry that makes you smile because it's fun?

Asked by Sunny2 (18758points) March 22nd, 2012

I so enjoyed @Hawaii_Jake’s question about meaningful poetry that I started to think of other poems I like and the first one is kind of silly, but pleases me. From Alice’s Adventures through the Looking Glass: One oyster met one oyster and they were oysters two. Two oysters met two oysters, and they were oysters too. Four oysters met a bottle of milk, and they were oyster stew.

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28 Answers

Sunny2's avatar

I think I was inspired by the fact that I had oysters for supper.

Jeruba's avatar

Here’s one I’ve loved since I first read it when I was about twenty-two. I don’t wear lavender silk yet, but I can tell you one thing for sure: people do not grow more innocent with age.

The Little Old Lady in Lavender Silk

I was seventy-seven, come August,
I shall shortly be losing my bloom;
I’ve experienced zephyr and raw gust
And (symbolical) flood and simoom.

When you come to this time of abatement,
To this passing from Summer to Fall,
It is manners to issue a statement
As to what you got out of it all.

So I’ll say, though reflection unnerves me
And pronouncements I dodge as I can,
That I think (if my memory serves me)
There was nothing more fun than a man!

In my youth, when the crescent was too wan
To embarrass with beams from above,
By the aid of some local Don Juan
I fell into the habit of love.

And I learned how to kiss and be merry- an
Education left better unsung.
My neglect of the waters Pierian
Was a scandal, when Grandma was young.

Though the shabby unbalanced the splendid,
And the bitter outmeasured the sweet,
I should certainly do as I then did,
Were I given the chance to repeat.

For contrition is hollow and wraithful,
And regret is no part of my plan,
And I think (if my memory’s faithful)
There was nothing more fun than a man!

—Dorothy Parker

Sunny2's avatar

@Jeruba Ah, dear Dorothy P. What a wonderful wit. I would love to have been able to listen in to her table of friends at the Algonquin.

Coloma's avatar

I love writing poetry. Here’s a little humor.

The Bad Haircut

Thinning hairs upon my head
some cling to life and some are dead

She cut my fragile fronds so wrong
some too short and some too long

She set the blades to shear too short
and lopped the tower off my fort

A mule and plow
might be preferred
to trample ‘cross my wispy herd

What evil scissors did she wield
to kill my sparsely planted field

Silky stalks and tender shoots
torn from my scalp with dying roots
A seasons growth without a trace
harvested above my face

@Jeruba I love Dorothy Parker…” Leave it to me to put all of my eggs in one bastard.—lol

Jeruba's avatar

@Sunny2, the last time I was in NYC, I stayed at the Algonquin just to fraternize with the ghosts.

linguaphile's avatar

Amelia mixed the mustard,
She mixed it good and thick;
She put it in the custard
And made her Mother sick,
And showing satisfaction
By many a loud huzza
‘Observe’ said she ‘the action
Of mustard on Mamma.’

By A.E. Housman sometimes misattributed to Evaline Ness

linguaphile's avatar

What a wonderful bird the frog are—
When he sit, he stand almost.
When he hop, he fly almost.
He ain’t got no sense hardly.
He ain’t got no tail hardly either.
When he sit, he sit on what he ain’t got—almost.

by unknown author

more froggy poems

AshLeigh's avatar

In second grade they made us memorize this silly poem:

“Think” said the Robbin,
“Think” said the Jay,
sitting in the garden talking one day.
“Think about people.
The way they grow.
They don’t have feathers,
at all, you know?
They don’t eat beetles,
they don’t grow wings,
they don’t like sitting on wires and things.”
“Think” said the Robbin.
“Think” said the Jay.
“Aren’t people funny to be that way?”

It still makes me smile. :)

rooeytoo's avatar

I just know a couple of little ditties that always make me smile

What a wonderful bird is the pelly-can
His beak can hold more than his belly can!

(Sung to the melody of green sleeves)
I met her in a grocery store
Behind the green vegtables
I fell in love with her ruby red lips
But all I got was asparagus tips.

But this is my favorite. It doesn’t make me smile because it’s funny ha ha but because it is true and I like the symbolism. The message of the inherent but often unacknowledged (even by themselves) strength of women in general is so true. Also I have a couple of weathered old baskets that were my moms and her moms and they are holding their age and beauty very well.

Finding Her Here

Submitted by: ProfessorZed
Author: Jayne Relaford Brown

I am becoming the woman I’ve wanted,
grey at the temples,
soft body, delighted,
cracked up by life
with a laugh that’s known bitter
but, past it, got better,
knows she’s a survivor-
that whatever comes,
she can outlast it.
I am becoming a deep
weathered basket.

I am becoming the woman I’ve longed for,
the motherly lover
with arms strong and tender,
the growing daughter
who blushes surprises.
I am becoming full moons
and sunrises.

I find her becoming,
this woman I’ve wanted,
who knows she’ll encompass,
who knows she’s sufficient,
knows where she’s going
and travels with passion.
Who remembers she’s precious,
but knows she’s not scarce-
who knows she is plenty,
plenty to share.

harple's avatar

@rooeytoo Love that!

This is part of a poem by John Fuller (too long to post in full), that always makes me smile:

The things about you I appreciate may seem indelicate:
I’d like to find you in the shower
And chase the soap for half an hour.
I’d like to have you in my power and see you eyes dilate.
I’d like to have your back to scour
And other parts to lubricate.
Sometimes I feel it is my fate
To chase you screaming up a tower or make you cower
By asking you to differentiate Nietzsche from Schopenhauer.
I’d like to successfully guess your weight and win you at a fete.
I’d like to offer you a flower.

rooeytoo's avatar

@harple – good one!

marinelife's avatar

anyone lived in a little how town e e cummings

anyone lived in a pretty how town
(with up so floating many bells down)
spring summer autumn winter
he sang his didn’t he danced his did

Women and men(both little and small)
cared for anyone not at all
they sowed their isn’t they reaped their same
sun moon stars rain

children guessed(but only a few
and down they forgot as up they grew
autumn winter spring summer)
that noone loved him more by more

when by now and tree by leaf
she laughed his joy she cried his grief
bird by snow and stir by still
anyone’s any was all to her

someones married their everyones
laughed their cryings and did their dance
(sleep wake hope and then)they
said their nevers they slept their dream

stars rain sun moon
(and only the snow can begin to explain
how children are apt to forget to remember
with up so floating many bells down)

one day anyone died i guess
(and noone stooped to kiss his face)
busy folk buried them side by side
little by little and was by was

all by all and deep by deep
and more by more they dream their sleep
noone and anyone earth by april
wish by spirit and if by yes.

Women and men(both dong and ding)
summer autumn winter spring
reaped their sowing and went their came
sun moon stars rain

GracieT's avatar

@AshLeigh, now that’ll be in my head all day. Thanks for the smile!

john65pennington's avatar

I met a girl name Susie
Her kiss was intoxicating
And made we woosie

After three kisses from Susie
I knew in my heart
She was a doosie.

I’m in love with Susie
Even though they call her a floosie.


Sunny2's avatar

Hey, these are great! Thank you everybody.

gailcalled's avatar

Hard to choose just one.

Picked at random from Judith Viorst’s writings.

If I Were In Charge of the World

If I were in charge of the world
I’d cancel oatmeal,
Monday mornings,
Allergy shots, and also Sara Steinberg.

If I were in charge of the world
There’d be brighter nights lights,
Healthier hamsters, and
Basketball baskets forty eight inches lower.

If I were in charge of the world
You wouldn’t have lonely.
You wouldn’t have clean.
You wouldn’t have bedtimes.
Or “Don’t punch your sister.”
You wouldn’t even have sisters.

If I were in charge of the world
A chocolate sundae with whipped cream and nuts would be a vegetable
All 007 movies would be G,
And a person who sometimes forgot to brush,
And sometimes forgot to flush,
Would still be allowed to be
In charge of the world.

Judith Viorst

Coloma's avatar

Haha…love it everyone! Here’s another little humorous ditty from my archives. Oh, and, the Bad Haircut sharing was written about my ex husband, I have great hair, his was failing. lol
Here’s another inspired by the same muse. lol

Lazy Boy

A man in a recliner
sends shivers down my spine
“God No!” I scream, a’ trembling
“That lazy boy’s not mine!”

A donut box rests on his crotch,
he lets his belt out one more notch
His eyes are glazed, his jaw is slack
while reposing on his back

His skin tone casts a grayish hue
his body language says “code blue”
Even sitting upright, feigning some alert
It’s but a feeble life force
that beats beneath his shirt

No earthly fright can seize my soul
or give me such a scare
as to gaze upon an inert man
in his easy chair

A scant and flimsy presence
like a bedsheet on the line
Again, I shriek ” God No! Please NO!”
That lazy boy’s not mine

Skaggfacemutt's avatar

I love the poem “Albert and the Lion” by Marriott Edgar. You have to understand British humor to appreciate it, and it is too long to put here.

Esedess's avatar

Bowties are red
The Tardis is blue
The Doctor is awesome
And so are you!

lifeflame's avatar

Apple Tragedy

So on the seventh day
The serpent rested,
God came up to him.
“I’ve invented a new game,” he said.

The serpent stared in surprise
At this interloper.
But God said: “You see this apple?”
I squeeze it and look-cider.”

The serpent had a good drink
And curled up into a question mark.
Adam drank and said: “Be my god.”
Eve drank and opened her legs

And called to the cockeyed serpent
And gave him a wild time.
God ran and told Adam
Who in drunken rage tried to hang himself in the orchard.

The serpent tried to explain, crying “Stop”
But drink was splitting his syllable.
And Eve started screeching: “Rape! Rape!”
And stamping on his head.

Now whenever the snake appears she screeches
“Here it comes again! Help! O Help!”
Then Adam smashes a chair on his head,
And God says: “I am well pleased”

And everything goes to hell.

-Ted Hughes

Stinley's avatar

Warning – When I Am an Old Woman I Shall Wear Purple By Jenny Joseph When I am an old woman, I shall wear purple with a red hat that doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves and satin candles, and say we’ve no money for butter. I shall sit down on the pavement when I am tired and gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells and run my stick along the public railings and make up for the sobriety of my youth. I shall go out in my slippers in the rain and pick the flowers in other people’s gardens and learn to spit. You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat and eat three pounds of sausages at a go or only bread and pickles for a week and hoard pens and pencils and beer nuts and things in boxes. But now we must have clothes that keep us dry and pay our rent and not swear in the street and set a good example for the children We must have friends to dinner and read the papers. But maybe I ought to practice a little now? So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.

flutherother's avatar

by Roald Dahl

The most important thing we’ve learned,
So far as children are concerned,
Is never, NEVER, NEVER let
Them near your television set—
Or better still, just don’t install
The idiotic thing at all.
In almost every house we’ve been,
We’ve watched them gaping at the screen.
They loll and slop and lounge about,
And stare until their eyes pop out.
(Last week in someone’s place we saw
A dozen eyeballs on the floor.)
They sit and stare and stare and sit
Until they’re hypnotised by it,
Until they’re absolutely drunk
With all that shocking ghastly junk.
Oh yes, we know it keeps them still,
They don’t climb out the window sill,
They never fight or kick or punch,
They leave you free to cook the lunch
And wash the dishes in the sink—
But did you ever stop to think,
To wonder just exactly what
This does to your beloved tot?
‘All right!’ you’ll cry. ‘All right!’ you’ll say,
‘But if we take the set away,
What shall we do to entertain
Our darling children? Please explain!’
We’ll answer this by asking you,
‘What used the darling ones to do?
‘How used they keep themselves contented
Before this monster was invented?’
Have you forgotten? Don’t you know?
We’ll say it very loud and slow:
AND READ and READ, and then proceed
To READ some more. Great Scott! Gadzooks!
One half their lives was reading books!
The nursery shelves held books galore!
Books cluttered up the nursery floor!
And in the bedroom, by the bed,
More books were waiting to be read!
Such wondrous, fine, fantastic tales
Of dragons, gypsies, queens, and whales
And treasure isles, and distant shores
Where smugglers rowed with muffled oars,
And pirates wearing purple pants,
And sailing ships and elephants,
And cannibals crouching ‘round the pot,
Stirring away at something hot.
(It smells so good, what can it be?
Good gracious, it’s Penelope.)
The younger ones had Beatrix Potter
With Mr. Tod, the dirty rotter,
And Squirrel Nutkin, Pigling Bland,
And Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle and-
Just How The Camel Got His Hump,
And How the Monkey Lost His Rump,
And Mr. Toad, and bless my soul,
There’s Mr. Rat and Mr. Mole-
Oh, books, what books they used to know,
Those children living long ago!
So please, oh please, we beg, we pray,
Go throw your TV set away,
And in its place you can install
A lovely bookshelf on the wall.
Then fill the shelves with lots of books,
Ignoring all the dirty looks,
The screams and yells, the bites and kicks,
And children hitting you with sticks-
Fear not, because we promise you
That, in about a week or two
Of having nothing else to do,
They’ll now begin to feel the need
Of having something to read.
And once they start—oh boy, oh boy!
You watch the slowly growing joy
That fills their hearts. They’ll grow so keen
They’ll wonder what they’d ever seen
In that ridiculous machine,
That nauseating, foul, unclean,
Repulsive television screen!
And later, each and every kid
Will love you more for what you did.

Berserker's avatar

Well it’s a song and not a poem, but it’s the most closely related thing I could use as an answer. I mean it works as a poem anyways, The Hearse Song.

Do you ever think as a hearse goes by,

that you may be the next to die?

They wrap you up in a big white sheet

From your head down to your feet.

They put you in a big black box,

And cover you up with dirt and rocks.

All goes well for about a week,

Then your coffin begins to leak.

The worms crawl in, the worms crawl out,

The worms play pinochle on your snout.

They eat your eyes, they eat your nose,

They eat the jelly between your toes.

A big green worm with rolling eyes,

Crawls in your stomach and out your eyes.

Your stomach turns a slimy green,

And pus pours out like whipping cream.

You spread it on a slice of bread,

And that’s what you eat when you are dead.

Always got a kick out of this.

8Convulsions's avatar

@Symbeline Good call!
In third grade we had to pick poems to memorize and perform in front of the class. At the time, I was obsessed with the book, Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark, so of course, I picked The Hearse Song. I don’t think my teacher was very pleased. Haha.

Plucky's avatar

This one always makes me giggle.


I cannot see

I cannot pee

I cannot chew

I cannot screw

My memory shrinks

My hearing stinks

No sense of smell

I look like hell

My body’s drooping

Have trouble pooping

The Golden Years have come at last

The Golden Years can kiss my ass

Coloma's avatar

@Plucky Haha I love Dr. Seuss

Esedess's avatar

The human heart can go to the lengths of God.
Cold and dark we may be, but this is no winter now.
The frozen misery of centuries cracks, breaks, begins to move.
The thunder is the thunder of the flows,
The thaw, the flood, the upstart spring.
Thank God, our time is now, when wrong comes up to meet us everywhere,
Never to leave us till we take the longest stride of soul folk ever took.
Affairs are now soul sized.
The enterprise is exploration into god.
What are you making for?
It takes, so many thousand years to wake.
But will you wake, for pity’s sake.

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