The best funny poems to share with friends
Our selection of the funniest poems guaranteed to put a smile on your face.
A witty poem can be just the thing to brighten our mood and put a smile on the face of everyone around us. Here, we share a selection of our favourite funny poems that are sure to make you laugh and which you'll love sharing with family and friends.
'Vanity' by Brian Patten
When I broke the mirror I bought a new one.
I didn’t like what I saw,
So I took it back to the shop and asked for one
Like the one I’d bought some years before.
'Mosquito at my Ear' by Kobayashi Issa, translated by Robert Hass
Mosquito at my ear—
does he think
I’m deaf?
Taken from A Poet for Every Day of the Year
'Celia Celia' by Adrian Mitchell
When I am sad and weary
When I think all hope has gone
When I walk along High Holborn
I think of you with nothing on
Taken from A Poet for Every Day of the Year
'Funeral Shoes (Stop all the Crocs)' by Brian Bilston
Stop all the Crocs, cut out these foam clogs,
Don’t let your footwear go to the dogs,
Silence the pavements from the Crocs’ fearsome slap,
Bring out the dustbin, put your Crocs into that.
Let the easyJets gather and circle in glee
To write on the sky the words CROC: R.I.P.
Organise parties and grand cavalcades,
Host dinners, bake cakes, throw victory parades.
He was her North, her South, her West and East,
Her Mini-Milk, her Fab, her Chocolate Feast.
But such thoughts were all packed away in a box,
From the moment she saw him wearing Crocs.
Crocs are passé now: discard all your pairs;
Lob them onto the waves, recite a prayer.
Watch them drift out to where sea and sky meet,
And beg for forgiveness from your poor feet.
'Thief' by Brian Bilston
You caught me stealing a glance at you.
Ordered me to empty out my pockets.
I shook my booty onto the table:
a swiped charge card,
a nose I’d pinched,
one poached egg,
a ruler (half-inched),
a gaze I’d shifted,
some spirits lifted,
and selected other stolen moments.
You told me to stop thieving
and start behaving.
Fat chance.
I’ve even nicked myself
Shaving.
Taken from Diary of a Somebody
'I would like to apologise for the delay' by Brian Bilston
I would like to apologise for the delay
in coming to work today.
This is due to a signalling failure
between my primary motor cortex and pyramidal motor pathway.
I shall remain here instead,
sidelined in this bed,
until further notice.
I would like to apologise for the delay
in going for a run today.
This is due to leaves on the tracksuit
I wore last week,
during my unsuccessful attempt to bury myself
in a coppiced wood.
I would be there still, if I could.
I would like to apologise for the delay
in joining your skiing holiday.
This is due to the wrong kind of snow,
which, as far as I’m concerned, is any kind of snow
that enables people
to hurtle down slopes, at speed,
on skis.
I would like to apologise for the delay
in taking part in life today.
This is due to delays.
Taken from Diary of a Somebody
'Mrs Icarus 'by Carol Ann Duffy
I’m not the first or the last
to stand on a hillock,
watching the man she married
prove to the world
he’s a total, utter, absolute, Grade A pillock.
'Walking My Seventy-Five-Year-Old Dog' by Billy Collins
She’s painfully slow,
so I often have to stop and wait
while she examines some roadside weeds
as if she were reading the biography of a famous dog.
And she’s not a pretty sight anymore,
dragging one of her hind legs,
her coat too matted to brush or comb,
and a snout white as a marshmallow.
We usually walk down a disused road
that runs along the edge of a lake,
whose surface trembles in a high wind
and is slow to ice over as the months grow cold.
We don’t walk very far before
she sits down on her worn haunches
and looks up at me with her rheumy eyes.
Then it’s time to carry her back to the car.
Just thinking about the honesty in her eyes,
I realize I should tell you
she’s not really seventy-five. She’s fourteen.
I guess I was trying to appeal to your sense
of the bizarre, the curiosities of the sideshow.
I mean who really cares about another person’s dog?
Everything else I’ve said is true,
except the part about her being fourteen.
I mean she’s old, but not that old,
and it’s not polite to divulge the true age of a lady.
'Banana School' by Billy Collins
The day I learned that monkeys
as well as chimps, baboons, and gorillas
all peel their bananas from the other end
and use the end we peel from as a handle,
I immediately made the switch.
I wasted no time in passing this wisdom on
to family, friends, and even strangers
as I am now passing it on to you—
a tip from the top, the banana scoop,
the inside primate lowdown.
I promise: once you try it
you will never go back except
to regret the long error of your ways.
And if you do not believe me,
swing by the local zoo some afternoon
with a banana in your pocket
and try peeling it in front of the cage
of an orangutan or capuchin monkey,
and as you begin, notice
how the monkeys stop what they’re doing,
if they are doing anything at all,
to nod their brotherly approval through the bars.
Better still, try it out on the big silverback gorilla.
See if you can get his dark eyes to brighten a bit
as the weight of him sits there in his cage
the same way Gertrude Stein is sitting
in that portrait of her she never liked by Picasso.
Taken from Whale Days
'Ten Rules for Aspiring Poets' by Brian Bilston
1. Poetry does not have to rhyme.
Well, at least not all the time always.
2. Metaphors can lend a poem power
(although mixing them isn’t good).
Should they start to fly in all directions,
nip them in the bud.
3. Focus and concentration
are important skills to hone.
Close the door. Turn off the wi-fi.
Don’t get distracted by your ph
4. Avoid clichés like the plague.
5. Don’t write stuff that’s a bit vague.
6. The use of unnecessarily long words
may result in reader alienation.
Curb your sesquipedalianism.
Obviate all obfuscation.
7. Always proof-read you’re work.
Accuracy can be it’s own reward!
And remember that the penis
mightier than the sword.
8. Check haiku closely
for lines which have too few
or too many syllables.
9. Never ever follow rules.
Remembrance of Things Pasta by Brian Bilston
She blew her fusilli,
my pretty penne,
when she found me watching
daytime tagliatelle.
Je ne spaghetti rien,
I responded in song,
but she did not linguini
for long,
just walked out
without further retort:
a hard lesson to be tortellini,
orzo I thought.
And so here I am,
all on my macaroni,
and now my days
feel cannelloni.
Taken from Alexa, What is there to know about love?
The Unrequited Love of an Olympic Pole Vaulter by Brian Bilston
I guess
it wasn’t
meant
to be
your bar
was set
too high
for me
it’s been
four years
since we
last met
and I
haven’t
got over
you yet
Taken from Alexa, What is there to know about love?