Funny Poetry

[Judy Harder]

A WOMAN'S POEM:

Before I lay me down to sleep,
I pray for a man, who's not a creep,
One who's handsome, smart and strong.
One who loves to listen long,
One who thinks before he speaks,
One who'll call, not wait for weeks.
I pray he's gainfully employed,
When I spend his cash, won't be annoyed.
Pulls out my chair and opens my door.
Massages my back and begs to do more.
Oh! Send me a man who'll make love to my mind,
Knows what to answer to "how big is my behind?"
I pray that this man will love me to no end,
And always be my very best friend.


A MAN'S POEM:

I pray for a deaf-mute gymnast nymphomaniac with
huge boobs who owns a bar on a golf course,
and loves to send me fishing and drinking. This
doesn't rhyme and I don't give a shit.

[Teresa]

I'm Fine, Thank YOU

There is nothing the matter with me.
I'm as healthy as I can be.
I have arthritis in both my knees
And when I talk, I talk with a wheeze.

My pulse is weak, and my blood is thin
But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in.
Arch supports I have for my feet
Or I wouldn't be able to be on the street.

Sleep is denied me night after night,
But every morning I find I'm all right.
My memory is failing, my head's in a spin
But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in.

The moral is this, as my tale I unfold,
That for you and me who are growing old,
It's better to say "I'm fine" with a grin
Than to let folks know the shape we are in.

How do I know that my youth is all spent?
Well, my "get up and go" just got up and went.
But I really don't mind when I think with a grin
Of all the grand places my "get up" has been.

Old age is golden, I've heard it said;
But sometimes I wonder as I get into bed
With my ears in the drawer my teeth in a cup,
My eyes on the table until I wake up.

Ere sleep overtakes me, I say to myself,
"Is there anything else I could lay on the shelf?"
When I was young my slippers were red,
I could kick my heels over my head

When I was older my slippers were blue,
But I still could dance the whole night through.
Now I am old, my slippers are black,
I walk to the store and puff my way back.

I get up each morning and dust off my wits
And pick up the paper and read the obits.
If my name is still missing, I know I'm not dead
So I fix me some breakfast and go back to bed.

[Teresa]

The Flatulence Tax

A flatulance tax on cattle and sheep,
Another rip-off to make us all weep.
Preserving the ozone at any expense,
It's all propaganda that doesn't make sense.

Abandon the flock and abolish the herd,
When it comes to survival, then nothing's absurd.
But what will we eat for daily protein?
The answer is simple, the mighty baked bean.

So plough in the forrage and pastures too
Put paid to the curse of the cattle poo.
Then plant all the land with navy beans,
Belching out gasses from smokey machines.

The resulting erosion will wipe any smiles,
Make the Greenies appear they're suffering piles.
With options so few when it comes to a meal,
And the after affects still part of the deal.

With the whole population gobbling baked beans,
The potential was there for some horrid scenes.
The worst of our fears were about to come true,
The Follies were gobbling their baked beans too.

And adding more fuel to their natural reserve,
The electorate was poised to get its deserve.
Their innards vibrated their faces contorted,
The speaker collapsed and debate was aborted.

Then rising as one from babes to old Granny,
With timing so perfect was almost uncanny.
The whole population let off a great fart,
With a bloody big bang blew the ozone apart.

Copyright; John O'Neill

[Jo McDonald]

SPECIAL POEM
A row of bottles on my shelf
Caused me to analyze myself.
One yellow pill I have to pop
Goes to my heart so it won't stop.
A little white one that I take
Goes to my hands so they won't shake.
The blue ones that I use a lot
Tell me I'm happy when I'm not.
The purple pill goes to my brain
And tells me that I have no pain.
The capsules tell me not to wheeze
Or cough or choke or even sneeze
The red ones, smallest of them all
Go to my blood so I won't fall.
The orange ones, very big and bright
Prevent my leg cramps in the night.
Such an array of brilliant pills
Helping to cure all kinds of ills.
But what I'd really like to know...........
Is what tells each one where to go!
----------------------------------------------------- ---------
There's always a lot to be thankful for if
you take time to look for it. For example
I am sitting here thinking how nice it is
that wrinkles don't hurt...

[Teresa]

I Can't Remember!

Just a line to say I'm living,
that I'm not among the dead,
though I'm getting more forgetful
and mixed up in the head.

I got used to my arthritis,
to my dentures I'm resigned,
I can manage my bifocals
but God I miss my mind,

For sometimes I can't remember,
when I stand at the foot of the stairs,
if I must go up for something,
or have just come down from there.

And before the fridge so often,
my poor mind is filled with doubt,
have I just put food away,
or have I come to take some out?

And there's the time when it is dark
with my nightcap on my head,
I don't know if I'm retiring,
or just getting out of bed.

So if it's my turn to write to you,
there's no need for getting sore,
I may think that I have written
and don't want to be a bore.

So, remember that I love you
and wish that you were near
but now it's nearly mail time
so I must say good-bye dear,

There I stand beside the mailbox
with a face so very red,
instead of mailing you my letter,
I opened it instead!