Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Category
Well, it’s June! What better way to start a new month than with a Limerick Alert. I understand that many of the readers of this blog wait patiently for me to post limericks that are a bit more interesting and suggestive, but once again I’ll post this selection of limericks that are cute and funny and written primarily for and by children. For those of you who like your limericks with a bit more spice, I’m compiling a collection more to your liking that will be posted in a few weeks. These six will have to carry you through until then, so let’s get started. I also hope you’ll appreciate this first limerick because it’s the only limerick ever to use the word Nantucket without offending anyone.
π₯π₯π₯
There was an old man of Nantucket
Who kept all his cash in a bucket.
But his daughter, named Nan,
Ran away with a man,
And as for the bucket, Nantucket.
π₯π₯π₯
There was a young lady of Crete,
Who was so exceedingly neat,
When she got out of bed,
She stood on her head
To make sure of not soiling her feet.
π₯π₯π₯
There once were two cats of Kilkenny;
Each thought there was one cat too many.
So, they fought paw to paw
And they scratched claw to claw,
Till instead of two cats there weren’t any.
π₯π₯π₯
There was a young woman from Niger.
Who smiled and rode out on a tiger.
They returned from the ride
With the lady inside
And a smile on the face of the tiger.
π₯π₯π₯
HAVE A GREAT SUMMER
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I thought today I would take a different approach to limericks. I like posting them in categories like children’s limericks, medical limericks and of course the more interesting, body part limericks. So, I want to step away from all of those categories today and share a few called Limericks about Limericks. Here we go.
πππ
A limerick tells of a scene
Which often is crude or obscene.
But, if smut’s what you’re after
To bring about laughter,
Then tough, because this one is clean!
πππ
A limerick writer named Fred
Composed much of his work in his bed.
His poor wife declared
That she wouldn’t have cared,
But he tapped out the beat on her head!
π€©π€©π€©
No matter how grouchy you’re feeling,
You’ll find that a limerick’s quite healing.
It grows in a wreath
All around the front teeth,
Thus, preserving the face from congealing.
π«π«π«
There was an anthologist who
Has decided that nought is taboo.
Her words are so rude,
And her versus so lewd,
I’m sure they’d be appealing to you.
π΅βπ«π΅βπ«π΅βπ«
THE WEEKEND IS IN SIGHT
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For months I’ve been posting a collection of rather tame limericks written by and for children and young adults. While I certainly enjoy them, I still miss the naughtier limericks that I find absolutely hilarious. It’s true than many limericks are really crude and nasty but be sure those will never see the light of day on this blog. For today these limericks are:
RATED PG
Parental Guidance is Recommended
*****
In the Garden of Eden lay Adam,
Complacently stroking his madam.
And loud was his mirth
For on all of the earth
There were only two balls and he had’em.
πππ
There was a young fellow from Leeds
Who swallowed a package of seeds.
Great tufts of long grass
Sprouted out of his ass
And his balls were all covered with weeds.
πππ
There once was an old man from Maine
Whose prick was as strong as a cane.
It was almost as long,
So he strolled with his dong
Extended in in sunshine and rain.
πππ
There’s a charming young girl in Tobruk
Who refers to her quiff as a nook.
It’s deep and it’s wide,
You could curl up inside
With a nice easy chair and a book.
π₯
LET’S GET APRIL STARTED PROPERLY
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Any day is a good day for limericks whether they be bawdy, funny, or cute. Anything to make us smile a little is certainly worth the effort. Since we’ve all loved our years of school and our family pets, here are four related limericks and they’re relatively child friendly as well.
ππ
A small boy when asked to spell “yacht,”
Most saucily said, “I will nacht.”
So his teacher in wrath,
Took a section of lath,
And warmed him up well on the spacht.
π π π
A teacher whose spelling’s unique
Thus, wrote down the “Days of the Wique”:
The first he spelt “Sonday,”
The second day, “Munday”
And now a new teacher they sigue.
πππ
A cat in despondency sighed,
And resolved to commit suicide.
He got under the wheels
of nine automobiles,
And after the last one he died.
π£π£π£
There was a young man from the city,
Who met what he thought was a kitty.
He gave it a pat,
And said, “Nice little cat!”
And they buried his clothes out of pity.
ππ
Enjoy Spring
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I’ve been trying for days to post something but these damn storms are screwing up almost everything. Our power and internet returned today after 24 hours of silence and I wanted to post before the next catastrophe arrives.
*****
It feels good to be back to some semblance of normalcy. My first post-op inspection revealed my poor fractured ankle is on the mend. The doctor assures me that only five more weeks of a walker and wheelchair and I should be good to go. That news eases the pressure a little and makes getting back to this blog a little easier. I’ll be happy to provide a few limericks today to make you smile as little.
β€
A lisping young lady named JoBeth
Was saved from a fate worse than death.
Seven times in a row,
Which unsettled her so
That she quit saying “No” and said “Yeth.”
πππ
Therre was a young fellow named Goody
Who claimed that he wouldn’t, but would he?
If he found himself nude
With a gal in the mood,
The questions not woody, but could he?
πππ
There once was a young lady of Arden,
The tool of whose swain wouldn’t harden.
Said she with a frown,
“I’ve been sadly let down,
By the tool of a fool in a garden.”
πππ
A flatulent nun of Hawaii
One Easter eve supped on papaya,
Then honored the Passover
By turning her ass over
And obliging with Handel’s Messiah.
π€©π€©π€©
LIMERICKS HAVE RETURNED
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Born:Β December 10, 1830, Died:Β May 15, 1886 (aged 55)
*****
I’m something of a fan of serious poetry and an even bigger fan of those bawdy limericks I post so often. I guess I’m simply a fan of creative people who aren’t afraid to bare their souls to us. I’ve noticed over the years that creative types are a breed all their own. Many are looked upon as being a little strange or weird which has always seemed unfair. Being strange or weird for me is a badge of honor. Let me share the following with you.
Emily Dickinson, whose poetry thrills millions today, fantasized about the earth and sky and heaven itself, but left her home state, Massachusetts, exactly once, and that was to visit her father in Washington DC. She became such a recluse that she would not stay in the same room with her guests but would speak to them from an adjoining room.
Only seven of her poems were published in her lifetime. After her death in 1886, over 1,000 poems were discovered in a bureau. They were subsequently published, but often after word and punctuation changes were made by overzealous editors. A definitive edition of her works did not appear until the 1950’s.
As with all artists and other creative types, you never seem to get the recognition and fame you deserve until you’re dead.
R.I.P.
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It’s time for me to try and convince you non-limerick lovers that they can be something other than lewd and bawdy. They’re fun to create and even more fun to read when written by members of the younger generations. Here are a few written by and for children. Enjoy!
There once was a young chap from Eugene.
Who grew so abnormally lean,
And flat and compressed
That his back met his chest,
And, viewed sideways, he couldn’t be seen!
πππ
A sea serpent saw a big tanker.
Bit a hole in its side and then sank her.
He swallowed the crew
In a minute or two,
And then picked his teeth with the anchor.
πππ
There was a young bather from Bewes,
Who reclined on the banks of the Ouse.
His radio blared,
And passers-by stared,
For all he had on was the news!
πππ
There are men in the village of Erith
Whom nobody seeth or heareth.
They spend hours afloat
In a flat-bottomed boat,
Which nobody roweth or steereth.
π€©π€©π€©
And here’s one final extra limerick for a nurse I once knew.
Believe me, this limerick is understating her illness. LOL
β€οΈ
Jo Beth went to the doctor last night,
Rather hoping he’d help with her plight.
What she said, whilst bent double.
“It’s farting that’s the trouble.”
And what did he give her? A kite!
*****
DON’T WORRY, THE WEEKEND IS IN SIGHT
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This morning has started off strangely. Fifteen seconds after I sat down at the computer the power went out. I’ve lost all power in the house except for a few limited outlets hooked into the generator. It maintains all of the most important functions of the house like heat and water and thankfully this computer. I’ll be writing this in the dark with no way to upload the content until sometime later today (I hope). Maine has been having a rash of storms in recent weeks and the power grid has been damaged in many areas. I have to admit, this shit is getting really old and all of my bitching and complaining won’t help. Let’s move on to something a little more interesting.
I post a lot of limericks of all types. Some of you like them cute and funny, some like the children’s limericks and some others prefer the more bawdy and suggestive ones. Truthfully, I enjoy them all when the circumstances permit. Today I’ll pass along a few of the milder and sillier ones that won’t scare the children or any adults with delicate sensibilities.
πππ
A mouse in her room woke Miss Dowd.
She was frightened and screamed very loud.
Then a happy thought hit her
To scare off the critter,
She sat up in bed and meowed.
πππ
A young man dining out in Peru
Found a rather large mouse in his stew.
Said the waiter, “Don’t shout
And wave it about
Or the rest will be wanting one too!”
πππ
There were three little birds in the wood
Who sang hymns anytime that they could.
What the words were about
They could never make out,
But they felt it was doing them good.
πππ
A glutton who lived on the Rhine
When asked at what time he would dine,
He replied, “At eleven,
Four, six, three and seven,
And eight and a quarter to nine.”
πππ
Well finally some good news. The power has been turned on (for how long I couldn’t guess) and I’ll get this posted as quickly as possible.
BROWNCOATS RULE!!
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I thought I’d introduce you to something new today. I’ve posted hundreds of limericks over the years, and they were all basically the five-line standard. Another style of limerick is the extended limerick which are a bit longer than you normally see and more challenging to write. Here are two samples:
By Anonymous
There once were two cats of Kilkenny.
Each thought there was one too many,
So, they quarreled and fit,
They scratched and they bit,
Till, excepting their nails
And the tips of their tails,
Instead of two cats, there weren’t any!
πππ
By Anonymous
There was a strange student from Yale.
Who put himself outside the pale.
Said the judge:” Please refrain,
When passing through Maine,
From exposing yourself in in the train,
Or you’ll just have to do it in jail!”
πππ
In my opinion they aren’t as exciting as a normal limerick, but many people disagree. Now let’s take a look at what’s called a prose limerick. It’s a totally different style but I enjoy these very much because of the narrative way they are written.
By Anonymous
When cars are left here for repair, our charges are modest and fair. And
owners may rest quite content that we test all work that is done with great care.
πππ
In the shed at the end of the mews there’s a bucket of old bolts and screws, and
right at the back you will see a large stack of old junk that perhaps you can use.
π€©π€©π€©
The train that was due to depart at 8:10 is not likely to start. We’re
working to rule, you’d best get a mule or a bike or a horse and a cart.
***
TRY WRITING A FEW OF YOUR OWN
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In my younger days I spent a great deal of time wandering through the graveyards of Southern Massachusetts. I’ve always liked cemeteries and some of the oldest graves in the country can be found in and around the Plymouth area. Say what you want about the Pilgrims, but they brought their love of catchy epithets from the old country, and they are some of the best. I spent many hours sketching cemeteries and painting a number of interesting oil paintings which allowed me to sit for hours in a quiet and serene place. Here is a small collection of epithets from this country and others.
From Church Stretton, Shropshire, England
On Thursday she was born,
On a Thursday she made a bride,
On a Thursday put to bed,
On a Thursday broke her leg, and
On a Thursday died.
πππ
From a churchyard in Oxfordshire, England
Here lies the body of John Eldred,
At least, he will be when he’s dead.
But now at this time he is alive,
The 14th of August, Sixty-five.
πππ
From Middlefield, Massachusetts
Old Thomas Mulvaney lies here.
His mouth ran from ear to ear.
Reader, tread lightly on this wonder,
For if he yawns, you’re gone to thunder.
πππ
From Keeseville, New York
Here lies a man of good repute.
Who wore a No. 16 boot.
Tis not recorded how he died,
But sure, it is, that open wide,
The gates of heaven must have been,
To let such monstrous feet within.
πππ
From Chelmsford, Essex, England
Here lies the man Richard,
And Mary his wife.
Their surname was Pritchard,
They lived without strife.
And the reason was plain,
They abounded in riches,
They had no care or pain,
And his wife wore the breeches.
πππ
Here’s a favorite from a grave in Winslow, Maine and proves that short and sweet is always the best.
Here lies the body of John Mound
Lost at sea and never found.
*****
NOW, SIT DOWN AND WRITE YOUR OWN
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