Funny Poems About Italian Sonnet or Italian Sonnet Funny Poems

Humorous and funny Italian Sonnet poems and/or funny poems about Italian Sonnet. Read, share, and enjoy these hilarious Italian Sonnet funny poems! Also, try our sister website's powerful search engine for poems or see our other Italian Sonnet Poems.

Poem Details | by Jan Oskar Hansen |
Categories: humor,


 The king sits on a wooden throne on a turf of
dry land, his country has been swallowed up
by the sea, turns to his premier and says; why 
didn´t you ask the Dutch for help, their flat 
country has been beneath sea levels for many
years... and as a result they have grown to be
the tallest people in the world, this so they 
look over dikes and keep an eye on the ocean.

The king takes off his green wellies and asks 
for dry socks, a flunky puts them on, but sees 
the king has webbed feet and wonders why.
The monarch knew his country would sink, 
and was prepared, his kingdom will be big and

Poem Details | by Tracy Decker |
Categories: art, funny, on writing and words,

Shakespeare's Nightmare

Poor William turns and moans within his grave:
Within a phrase, one simple turn can bind
the most creative stirrings of the mind
and poet to cliché becomes a slave.
Exist but in uniqueness and repent
for rhyming verse you penned with “love” and “dove”
and last week’s sonnet found “push comes to shove” - 
the future of our language I lament…

But surely, there must be another choice
than bland insertions placed but for the rhyme
which, with their frequency, are meaningless.
‘Tis poet death to speak with borrowed voice – 
transcend the obvious to reach sublime,
allow poor William his most peaceful rest.

Poem Details | by Dakarai Cobb |
Categories: funny

A Sidekick For the Sonnet Man

The Sonnet Man really needs a side kick,
But not a side kick that wants to fight crime.
I need one to come in at the right time,
And shatter things like a very wide brick.
Just like a witch, who knows how to ride sticks,
I need a chick who knows how to write slime,
Not expecting to get paid a bright dime,
Like someone who wants to be my pride pick.
I need a side kick who can kick some butt,
Or at least can kick up a little ink.
One who is not afraid, no matter what,
Of what anyone could possibly think.
One with words that will hit you in the gut,
Before you are even able to blink.

Poem Details | by Thomas Shibbish |
Categories: caregiving, death, funny, wife,

He Needs Depends

Attention, attention! Paging Dr. Death
Your appointments here may I send them in
Go on you will see the sign it reads “fin”
Please, all the way down the last door on the left
The doctor will help you complete your quest
Welcome my dear, relax remove your pin
Take off your clothing place it in the bin
Now lay down shut your eyes take a deep breath
Euthanasia come on down bring a friend
Comatose no worries if are you his wife
Yes I am he’s had a wonderful life
I’m sure he feels it’s a means to an end
No longer will I have to deal with the strife
Or the underwear he wears he needs depends

Poem Details | by Jan Hansen |
Categories: adventure, blessing, color, humor,

The Long Walk

The long walk (Serra de Estrella)

Crossing from France to Portugal, my car got stuck
in the snow, on the mountain of Sierra de Estrella 
It was the year when much snow fell, but I walked on
coming down, I felt like Moses and his tablets.
It was getting warmer; the first to go was my coat 
and tie, later my trousers jacket
Over Alentejo, it was hot; I traded my trousers with
a tramp who gave me his shorts and sandals.
When I arrived in Vilamoura, I was stopped by the police
and asked who I was. “English, I Said.” “No, you are not.”
“Yes, I’m” “No, you are not a proper English man 
who will always wear socks with his sandals.”

Poem Details | by Jan Hansen |
Categories: absence, dream, funny love,

A Port In Italy

A port in Italy

Livorno was a dark town with sparse light that appeared Russian
at an open place with many trucks and many women milling about
I paid one she bent over the bonnet of a car
did this to relieve the boredom and the onset of depression.
When the deed was done, I walked to a restaurant and bought
a bottle of wine, it was surprisingly good, probably Russian 
I do not care for Italian wine.
The woman followed me, wanted wine also, said I was gentle.
After two bottles, she said she loved me.
When she went into the loo. I jumped into a taxi and drove
back to the ship feeling annoyed.
What has love got to do with this?