After receiving a few interesting emails and poems on my recent “Feet” posting I decided to offer up some of my own Bad Poetry for your entertainment. In my opinion poetry is best when humorous.
It’s time for a few limericks written primarily for kids and young adults. It’s nice for a change to post limericks that aren’t totally crude and for adults only. I like to offer an interesting selection and here we go . . .
I decided that it was time to post a few limericks collected from a small and damaged book I discovered some months ago. It was published in 1980 and contains over 150 of the lewdest limericks I’ve ever seen. The great majority are so nasty I wouldn’t dare post them here, but I’ve found four of the more acceptable ones to give you an idea what I’m dealing with. Tell the kids to leave the room. Rated at least an “R”.
Here are the final limericks in Mr. McCord’s limerick construction primer. I thoroughly enjoy reading the work created by such an intelligent man who enjoys his love of poems and limericks as I do. His non-limerick poetry is also outstanding as you will see.
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It’s been a bad year for the moles
Who live just in stockings with holes;
And bad for the mice
Who prefer their boiled rice
Seved in shoes that don’t have any soles.
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There once was a man in the Moon,
But he got there a little too soon.
Some others came later
And fell down a crater,
When was it? Next August? Last June?
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I don’t much exactly quite care
For those cats with short ears and long hair.
But if anything’s worse
It’s the very reverse:
Just you ask any mouse anywhere.
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So, by chance it may be you’ve not heard
Of a small sort of queer silent bird.
Not a song, trill, or note
Ever comes from his throat.
If it does, I take back every word.
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And last but not least.
Write a limerick now. Say there was
An old man of some place, what he does,
Or perhaps what he doesn’t,
Or isn’t or wasn’t.
Want help with it? Give me a buzz.
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I heard my first limerick when I was about 7 years old when I was eavesdropping on my father and one of his friends. I heard my dad recite this little gem. My love of limericks was born!
As promised, here is the second installment of David McCord’s limerick writing primer. He not only shows how to write a limerick but gives excellent examples of the various types you can create.
I’m going to introduce you today to a man who was famous for writing limericks, Mr. David McCord. He was also a philanthropist, writer, and poet who held honorary degrees from 22 universities. He was famous for his work in teaching children to write poetry. This first limerick is a short instruction on who to structure a limerick.
David McCord
The limerick’s lively to write:
Five lines to it – all nice and tight.
Two long ones, two trick
Little short ones, then quick
As a flash here’s the last one in sight.
There are 13 limericks published over fifty years ago and were Mr. McCord’s attempt to explain and teach how to write a limerick. Here are the first four. I’ll post a few each day until the entire collection is in your hands. Maybe they will encourage you to write a few of your own.
There once was a scarecrow named Joel
Who couldn’t scare crows, save his soul.
But the crows put the scare
Into Joel. He’s not there
Anymore. That’s his hat on the pole.
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“There was an old man” of wherever
You like, thus the limerick never
Accounts for the young:
You will find him unsung
Whether stupid, wise, foolish, or clever.
A Rare Non-Dirty Nantucket Limerick
There was a young man let me say,
Of West Pumpkinville, Maine, USA.
You tell me there’s not
Such a place? Thanks a lot.
I forget what he did anyway.
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Take the curious case of Tom Pettigrew
And Hetty, his sister. When Hettigrew
As tall as a tree
She came just to Tom’s knee.
And did Tom keep on growing? You bettigrew.
That’s lesson number one for today. If you read them carefully, he gives excellent rhyming tips and how exactly to structure the limerick. More to follow tomorrow.
I know I’ve been promising a post of really extreme limericks. I’ve hesitated because of the kids who might read this blog when their parents aren’t paying attention. Some limericks are written just for kids, funny ones for everyone, suggestive ones for others, and then comes the dirty, naughty, extra naughty, and last but not least the downright filthy. I’ve been taking this process slowly until I can find a way to post the really filthy ones but until then I’ll give you a few naughty ones to wet your limerick whistles.
As always, I offer up more questionable poetry. Some people like this style and some do not. To me that makes for what I call “bad poetry”. If everyone loves and understands it, then it’s “good poetry”.
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I rush down the highway of my life. Hoping that things I need and desire, will follow. To feel, see and experience, the love, hate and strife. Hear words that mean something and nothing, hollow.
The need to experience and taste it remains key. The search for the reverse of me continues, can never cease. Passing years and people have changed how I am able to see. My mysterious other self demands fairness, the ultimate release.
A quantity known but not known comes to me after flirting. Near hopes end a miracle occurs and love blossoms, smell the flowers. Feel intense love, caring and gentleness, no more hurting. That for which we all search is now mine and hers, ours.
The years of love and caring release me from my chains. My life quest finally realized, my soul with its mate. Melting together, love and tenderness growing my heart can’t explain. My lover has taught me, what counts is love, not hate.
YOU’VE JUST RECEIVED YOUR DAILY DOSE OF BLAHHHHHHHH!
I’m still contemplating whether to post those extremely lewd limericks I’ve been talking about for weeks. At some point I’ll be forced into a decision but not just yet. How about a few that aren’t quite as disturbing. Here are a few prizewinners about virgins.
There was a young virgin named Alice
Who thought of her puss as a chalice.
One night, sleeping nude,
She awoke feeling lewd,
And found in her chalice a phallus.
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A lisping young lady named Beth
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”.
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There was a young fellow named Biddle
Whose girl had to teach him to fiddle.
She grabbed hold of his bow
And said, “If you want to know,
You can try parting my hair in the middle.”
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A girl named Alice, in Dallas,
Had never felt of the phallus.
She remained virgo intacto,
Because, ipso facto,
No phallus in Dallas fit Alice.
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That should keep you limerick lovers calm for a while until I make my final decision. I’ll probably have to come up with some kind of a warning paragraph with flashing lights to ensure no children read the wrong limericks. I’m still working on that and trying to keep my better-half from kicking my ass. She’s a bit of a prude.
everyuselessthing.com 