Humor poems
/ page 8 of 12 /
October 1973
© John Betjeman
Last night I dreamed I ran through the streets of New York
Looking for help for you, Nicanor.
The Woman Who Laughed on Calvary
© Heather McHugh
I emulated there, in that
Godawful place. What kind
of face
Captain Von Muller
© Jessie Pope
A Skipper of mark was Von Muller,
The humorous naval leg-puller.
With ubiquitous ease
He raided the seas
And his bag became fuller and fuller.
Coquette And Her Lover
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
O, foolish querist! what if I,
Beholding your enamored face
And every well-attested trace
Of verdant, young idolatry,
Should, after my own fashion, choose
To play the subtly-amorous muse,
The Parrot
© William Cowper
In painted plumes superbly dress'd,
A native of the gorgeous east,
By many a billow toss'd;
Poll gains at length the British shore,
Part of the captain's precious store,
A present to his toast.
The Painter Dreaming in the Scholar’s House
© Howard Nemerov
The painter’s eye follows relation out.
His work is not to paint the visible,
He says, it is to render visible.
Full Flight
© Richard Jones
I'm in a plane that will not be flown into a building.
It's a SAAB 340, seats 40, has two engines with propellers
The Played-Out Humorist
© William Schwenck Gilbert
Oh happy was that humorist - the first that made a pun at all -
Who when a joke occurred to him, however poor and mean,
Was absolutely certain that it never had been done at all -
How popular at dinners must that humorist have been!
Fabrication of Ancestors
© Alan Dugan
For old Billy Dugan, shot in the ass in the Civil war, my father said.
The old wound in my ass
A Liz Town Humorist
© James Whitcomb Riley
Settin' round the stove, last night,
Down at Wess's store, was me
Ode To The Austrian Socialists
© Stephen Vincent Benet
Let us remember Karl Marx Hof, Goethe Hof,
The one called Matteoti and all the rest.
They were little cities built by people for people.
They were shelled by six-inch guns.
It is strange to go
Full Fathom Five
© Sylvia Plath
Old man, you surface seldom.
Then you come in with the tide's coming
When seas wash cold, foam-
Dirge For A Joker
© Sylvia Plath
Always in the middle of a kiss
Came the profane stimulus to cough;
Always from teh pulpit during service
Leaned the devil prompting you to laugh.
The Spagnoletto. Act II
© Emma Lazarus
Ball in the Palace of DON JOHN. Dance. DON JOHN and MARIA
together. DON TOMMASO, ANNICCA. LORDS and LADIES, dancing or
promenading.
The Countess
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Over the wooded northern ridge,
Between its houses brown,
To the dark tunnel of the bridge
The street comes straggling down.
Dancing
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
DANCING! I love it, night or day:
There's nought on earth so jolly,
Whether you straightly glide with May,
Or madly whirl with Molly,
A Sore Point
© Jessie Pope
It was clear that poor Richard was out of the running,
His mortification he could not disguise.
She flirted with Edward, the company shunning,
Soul leaping to soul through their eloquent eyes.
Devotion of years had he lavished in vain,
But the luck took a turn when Ted trod on her train.
Marmion: Introduction to Canto IV.
© Sir Walter Scott
An ancient minstrel sagely said,
"Where is the life which late we led?"
