Love me tender love me true
Show me how you feel
Buy a ring and bend the knee
Then take me for a meal
Give me wine
Act like you’re mine
And woo me with your charm
Then kiss me quickly
Before I’m sickly
And hanging on your arm

(Anonymous)

"Snowball"

I made myself a snowball
As perfect as could be.
I thought I’d keep it as a pet
And let it sleep with me.

I made it some pajamas
And a pillow for its head.
Then last night it ran away,
But first, it wet the bed.

– Shel Silverstein

Everyone is jealous of us
We make an awesome couple
Life with you seems perfect
Forever, I want to be in this bubble
Today I want to preach
Just one simply philosophy
That a handsome guy like you
Deserves a pretty girl like me
Happy birthday!

There is a Young Lady whose nose
Continually prospers and grows;
When it grew out of sight,
she exclaimed in a fright,
"Oh! Farewell to the end of my nose!"

There once was a man stuck in a stall,
He tried to get out but would fall.
One day a man flushed,
The fat man just blushed,
And quickly ran out of the mall.

There was an Old Man of Whitehaven,
Who danced a quadrille with a raven;
But they said, 'It's absurd
To encourage this bird!'
So they smashed that Old Man of Whitehaven.

I love you I love you
I do
I’ll play the kazoo
I may not be good
It may be too loud
I love you I love you
I’ll dance a jig
I may miss a step
or fall on my pig
I love you I love you
I do
even if this poem isn’t cool

There was a Young Lady of Norway,
Who casually sat on a doorway;
When the door squeezed her flat,
She exclaimed, 'What of that?'
This courageous Young Lady of Norway.

There was a very cautious man
Who never laughed or played
He never risked, he never tried,
He never sang or prayed.
And when he one day passed away,
His insurance was denied,
For since he never really lived,
They claimed he never really died.

Roses are red
Violets are blue
Brown is the color
Of elephant poo.

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
I have a gun,
Get in the van.

"Don’t Be Silly"

Are there bugs that live on the moon?
Can July come before June?
Can the sun ever feel cold?
“Don’t be silly” I’m often told.

Why can’t we live under the sea?
The creatures there seem so happy.
Why does cheese look like gold?
“Don’t be silly” I’m often told.

So why are things the way they are?
Has it always been, right from the start?
Will Mickey Mouse ever get old?
“Don’t be silly” I’m often told.

So in good time I know I’ll grow,
And I will learn, this I know.
I’ll ask my questions and be bold,
“And that’s not silly” I’ll be told.

– Dave Moran

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
White wine costs less,
Than dinner for two.

When I go out to dinner,
I do not want to share.
I don’t care what is on your plate;
I don’t want to compare.

I scan the menu up and down
And then make my selection.
When it arrives, it’s meant for me
And not for your inspection.

“You want to taste my fish?” I’m asked.
Some people never learn;
For then the expectation is
To taste mine in return.

And so the answer’s always No!
Yet comments never cease.
“Your fries look really good!” They are,
So let me eat in peace!

Each morsel on my dish is mine
And I intend to finish.
Perhaps my attitude will make
Your thoughts of me diminish.

I’m sorry if that is the case –
Dessert I’ll split just fine;
But when the meal’s delivered –
You eat yours and I’ll eat mine!

(Ilene Bauer)

Roses are red,
Violets are yellow,
I’m hoping this poem,
Will get me a fellow

"Mosquito At My Ear"

Mosquito at my ear—
does he think
I’m deaf?

– Kobayashi Issa

I see you driving
Round town with the girl I love
and I’m like Haiku.

That’s not my age; it’s just not true.
My heart is young; the time just flew.
I’m staring at this strange old face,
And someone else is in my place!

The perfect way to avoid overeating this Thanksgiving is to put super glue on your lips.
If you're not able to eat your Thanksgiving dinner, it can't go straight to your hips.
That's the perfect way to avoid overeating this Thanksgiving.
But if you can't get your lips unstuck, one week later you'll no longer be living.

- Randy Johnson

For you, nothing in this world
I would ever trade
You are more precious to me
Than a dazzling Jade
From every troubles of life
You have given me bail
Today I promise that for you
My love will never fail

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
A face like yours,
Belongs in a zoo.

There once was a man named Brice,
Who had a nasty head full lice.
He said, If I eat them,
Then I'll have beat them!
And besides they taste very nice.

God grant me the senility
to forget the people I never liked anyway,
the good fortune to run into the ones I do,
and the eyesight to tell the difference.

There was a Young Lady of Tyre,
Who swept the loud chords of a lyre;
At the sound of each sweep
She enraptured the deep,
And enchanted the city of Tyre.

The ocean is big,
And also it is pretty,
Pretty freakin' wet.

"Night Noises"

My parents' bedroom is far from mine, so I have to wonder
What the noise is every night that sounds a lot like thunder.
We don't live near the seashore, but almost every morn
I'm wakened by a noise that sounds like a fog horn.

It's louder than the sound of barking dogs at night
Or a fireworks explosion that lights the sky real bright.
A chainsaw cutting logs doesn't make as much din,
Nor did the wall coming down way over in Berlin.

A jet plane at takeoff will get your attention quick,
As will a jackhammer engaged in busting up some brick.
But neither equals the clamor from Mom and Dad's bedroom,
Worse than a stack of dynamite at the moment of KABOOM!

At last, I figured out the source of all the raucous roaring.
It was only good old Dad engaging in some snoring
Mom says: "I don't mind; it's really a Godsend
That all that wind isn't coming out the other end."

– Alan Balter

There is a young schoolboy named Mason,
Whose mom cuts his hair with a basin.
When he stands in one place,
With a scarf round his face,
It's a mystery which way he’s facing.

It’s here again
That day we all dread
When once more
We fear the rise of the dead

But fear not
Our salvation is at hand
We shall be saved
By an unlikely Band

So be assured
When the time is near
Ghosts and ghouls
Will all quake in fear

When night falls
All the undead will cower
Trembling in awe
Come the witching hour

As armed with sacks
Our great costumed army
Will roam the streets
To drive the evil spirits barmy

So to protect yourselves
Keep a proper payment handy
When the costumed army
Come knocking for some candy

- Paul Curtis

There was an Old Man with a poker,
Who painted his face with red oker
When they said, 'You're a Guy!'
He made no reply,
But knocked them all down with his poker.

Friend you’re one year older
Time waits for none, I think.
Since weather’s getting colder
Let me buy you a drink.
I’ll make sure it’s really hot
And quite the tasty brew.
Now let’s drink up to the thought
I’m not as old as you!

How many light bulbs
Does it take to screw a shrink?
Oh, got it backwards.

"Have You Ever Seen"

Have you ever seen a sheet on a river bed?
Or a single hair from a hammer’s head?
Has the foot of a mountain any toes?
And is there a pair of garden hose?

Does the needle ever wink its eye?
Why doesn’t the wing of a building fly?
Can you tickle the ribs of a parasol?
Or open the trunk of a tree at all?

Are the teeth of a rake ever going to bite?
Have the hands of a clock any left or right?
Can the garden plot be deep and dark?
And what is the sound of the birch’s bark?

“I cannot go to school today,"
Said little Peggy Ann McKay.
“I have the measles and the mumps,
A gash, a rash and purple bumps.
My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,
I’m going blind in my right eye.
My tonsils are as big as rocks,
I’ve counted sixteen chicken pox
And there’s one more--that’s seventeen,
And don’t you think my face looks green?
My leg is cut--my eyes are blue--
It might be instamatic flu.
I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,
I’m sure that my left leg is broke--
My hip hurts when I move my chin,
My belly button’s caving in,
My back is wrenched, my ankle’s sprained,
My ‘pendix pains each time it rains.
My nose is cold, my toes are numb.
I have a sliver in my thumb.
My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,
I hardly whisper when I speak.
My tongue is filling up my mouth,
I think my hair is falling out.
My elbow’s bent, my spine ain’t straight,
My temperature is one-o-eight.
My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,
There is a hole inside my ear.
I have a hangn

I'm really determined and keen,
To start giving this house a spring clean.
I will do it I say,
Yes, I'll do it today,
Well, I'll do it tomorrow, I mean.

There’s been a murder, a woman was killed,
found in a bathtub, partially filled.
A pair of policemen went into the house
and questioned the poor woman’s spouse.
He’d just come home from working all night
and found her like that, a terrible sight.
The younger policeman looked on with dismay.
He’d never forget that terrible day.
He saw the young woman from behind the door
and empty milk cartons all over the floor,
Scattered strawberries, slices of fruit,
and spoonfuls of sugar and honey to boot.
”Who could have done this terrible thing?”
His voice had a horrified, pitiful ring.
”Just look at the clues,” replied Sargeant Miller.
”It looks like the work of a cereal killer.” (Albert Van Hoogmoed)

Roses are red, violets are blue.
I have Alzheimer’s Disease, Cheese on toast.

You're old enough to know, my son,
It's really awfully rude
If someone speaks when both his cheeks
Are jammed and crammed with food.
Your mother asked you how you liked
the onions in the stew.
You stuffed your mouth with raisin bread
And mumbled, "Vewee goo."

Then when she asked you what you said,
You took a drink of milk,
And all that we could understand
Was, "Uggle gluggle skwilk."

And now you're asking me if you
Can have more lemon Jell-O.
Please listen carefully, "Yes, ifoo
Arstilla ungwy fello."

(Martin Gardner)

A wise man will know
finding a worm in a pear…
better than half worm

(Jan Allison)

Girl sat on a swing.
Trying to sing a song for god.
Missing him, not me.

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
Birthdays suck,
If they're not for you.

Happy birthday!

(Kevin Nishmas)

A newspaper man named Fling,
Could make "copy" from any old thing.
But the copy he wrote,
Of a five dollar note,
Was so good he is now wears so much bling.

Roses are green,
Violets are blue,
I’m colorblind.

You must be a birthday, because each time you come near,
I get so very excited, and so very full of cheer!
You must be the new year, because each time you come round,
All I do is want to celebrate, and make a joyous sound!

Roses aren’t red,
Violets are gray,
Ever since I looked at the sun,
It's been a bad day.

This is the story of Casper Levenes,
A boy quite addicted to Heinz Spicy Beanz,
They boiled in his gut, fermented in his tum,
Then as a foul vapour they exited his bum.

His brothers said, Casper, that stench is quite vile,
Then they clubbed him with chair legs and said with great bile,
You're the smelliest human who's walked on this earth,
And really you should have been put down at birth.

As he fell to the ground he let out his last fart,
I'll never forget, in my death, your great part,
And when the church clock strikes midnight each night,
The brothers do quiver and shiver with fright.

For a stench that's quite eerie and reeks of the pit,
Pervades all their bedrooms and lounges and shit,
And they say to each other, that stink is the most,
It's our dead brother Casper, the flatulent ghost.

- Max Scratchman

Oh my beloved belly button.
The squidgy ring in my midriff mutton.
Your mystery is such tricky stuff:
Why are you so full of fluff?
(Richard Leavesley)

I need a front door for my hall,
The replacement I bought was too tall.
So I hacked it and chopped it,
And carefully lopped it,
And now the dumb thing is too small.

There was an Old Man with a flute,
A sarpint ran into his boot;
But he played daay and night,
Till the sarpint took flight,
And avoided that man with a flute.

You never feed me.
Perhaps I'll sleep on your face.
That will sure show you.

"Unsatisfied Yearning"

Down in the silent hallway
Scampers the dog about,
And whines, and barks, and scratches,

In order to get out.

Once in the glittering starlight.

He straightway doth begin.
To set up a doleful howling.

In order to get in.

– R.K. Munkittrick