Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Category
As someone who’s crazy for limericks of all kinds, I thought I’d introduce a new contributor to this blog. The name is John Ciardi, and he was a close friend of Isaac Azimov, my favorite limerick author. They partnered up back in the 70’s and wrote a book of their limericks. It was a limerick war between the two as part of their competitive friendship. I’ve blogged many of Azimov’s limericks and I think it’s only fair to give Mr. Ciardi equal time. Here are a few of his gems.
😂😂😂
There once was a girl who intended
To keep herself morally splendid
And ascend into Glory,
Which is not a bad story,
Except that that’s not how it ended.
😫😫😫
One semester a young prof named Innis
Taught two hundred coeds’ what sin is.
Not, bad, I acknowledge,
For a small country college,
But not worth recording in Guinness.
🤪🤪🤪
A businesslike lady once baited
The door of her flat with X-rated
Interior views,
And, in neon, FREE BOOZE.
Then stretched out on a bearskin and waited.
😎😎😎
A word spout named Howard Cosell
Set his sights on the language Nobel
By over inflating
His confabulating,
But to blow hard is not to blow well.
THANK YOU MR. CIARDI
First, a retro bumper sticker from the 1970’s:
SORRY, I DON’T DATE OUTSIDE MY SPECIES
Secondly, an off-the-wall NY Yankee headline:
A-Rod Goes Deep, Wang Hurt.
Thirdly, a quote all Americans should read and remember:
“My definition of a free society is a society where it is safe to be unpopular.”
Adlai Stevenson
And last but not least a memorable limerick about limericks:
The limerick’s an art form complex,
Whose contents run chiefly to sex.
It’s famous for virgins
And masculine urgings,
And vulgar, erotic effects.
Today is the start of a better day than yesterday. Today I’m assured of at least another year before the cancer might return. A good doctor’s report makes for better days ahead. I can stop obsessing over this whole cancer deal until October when I’m due to be scanned again. So, what better way to pass the time than throwing some bad poetry your way. I wrote this many years ago during what I used to call the I-don’t-give-a-shit days. And believe me, I had plenty of them.
❤❤ It’s near in the mist. ❤❤
It watches and waits,
as its urges flicker to life.
A stroke of the hand,
a kiss in the dark,
and a seed is spilled
near your wife.
Some call it desire,
others haven’t a clue,
I see it near you!
As everyone is probably aware, I absolutely love limericks. I will present a few today but for those of you of German heritage and anyone who can speak German, this first one is for you. I have to admit that Germany is not known for its limericks but here is one in German with a translation. I think if the translation is accurate (and I’m not sure it is), it’s one of the worst limericks ever written. If anyone out there can translate it properly, please do, and sent me the corrected version by email to everyuselessthing2@yahoo.com.
Ein dicklicher mann in Peru
Der traumte mal von einer kuh;
Und alse r erwacht
Da ha ter gelacht:
Seine frau stand am bett und macht
😷😷😷
A plumpish chap in Peru
Was dreaming about a cow.
When he awoke,
He couldn’t help laughing,
His wife was standing at the bedside saying “Moo!”
😷😷😷
Now that that silliness is over let’s get on with a couple of limericks written by children. After previous posting of kids’ limericks, I received a number of requests for more. Here are a couple.
By Raymond Coleman (Age 11)
There was a young lad called Davy
Who hated the food in the Navy.
He couldn’t have beef
In case his false teeth
Would drop out and fall in the gravy.
😷😷😷
By Amanda Chew (Age 13)
There was a math teacher named Rundle
Who tied up his books in a bundle.
It’s too heavy he feels,
So put it on wheels,
Now Rundle can trundle his bundle!
😷😷😷
MORE ADULT LIMERICKS ARE ON THE WAY SOON
As you may have guessed, I’ve been around a while and my memories go back many years. I survived the 60’s and 70’s with only minor damage and tried desperately to forget everything about the 80’s and 90’s. The new millennium was a big letdown, and it still remains just that. This little ditty was written in 1978 or there abouts. I was smoking a lot of Weed in those days so I’m not entirely sure about the exact date. Take a trip back with me.
❤THE GENERATION GAP❤
Your Dis’n me, I’m Dis’n you,
It’s all just Greek to me.
It’s wicked hot, she’s wicked cool,
I’m wicked confused you see.
I thought our slang from years ago
was a cool and groovy thing.
We’d rap all night about far-out stuff
and what the future might bring.
Peace Man! Protest marches,
and on into the night.
We’d smoke some weed and drink some beer,
it’s what made everything alright.
Stop the war! Kent State Revenge, was
what we thought was cool.
Pass the beer, we can crash over here,
so, we’re a little late for school.
To mix and match the old and new
really must be done.
To help prepare for whatever new
and the nonsense that’s sure to come.
❤❤❤
And for our millions of millennials:
LIKE WHATEVER!!!!!
Today’s been a slow day here in Maine and after two days of sunshine we’re back to our normal gray, cold, and miserable days. When trying to decide what to post today, I went back into my e-mails and discovered quite a few requests for more children’s limericks. I enjoy them myself but in truth, I love the bawdy ones just as much. Here are a few from the kids. I hope you enjoy them.
And undisciplined child named McLundy
Always got to school late, until one day
He was early for once,
But the ignorant dunce
Had forgotten that it was a Sunday!
😃😃😃
A greedy young schoolboy called Mark
Stuffed bananas all week, for a lark.
And when he was done,
Gobbled nuts by the ton,
Now he swings through the trees in the park.
😄😄😄
A robber named Brian McGrew
Decided to burgle a zoo.
But he foolishly stole a
Huge boa constrictor
Which ate him without more ado!
😁😁😁
A naughty young schoolboy from Datchet
Sneak off with his grandfather’s hatchet.
Then was heard to cry: “Oh!
I’ve chopped off my toe!
Won’t somebody please re-attach it?”
As my contribution to the current culture, I feel a real responsibility to donate something to the cause. Since I’m not a poet, I have the right to have some fun with poetry in general. I’ve never really had an appreciation of poetry and all of the flowery and descriptive emotions that are thrown around so freely. Since I’ve never heard most of those pretty phrases used in normal conversation, they don’t feel real and meaningful to me. I like my poetry to be more down to earth without all the BS. Here’s another beauty for you . . .
❤OLDIES❤
Be Bop A Lula, She’s my baby, I’ve loved those lyrics for years.
In the backseat, we hummed right along in between all of the beers.
I stroked and stroked her beautiful hair as the Coasters sang “Charlie Brown”.
Off with our clothes and tickled her toes as we turned our frowns upside down.
Those oldies had a wonderful rhythm that made our hips get the beat.
A kiss on the neck, a breast in my hand, and a cop with a flashlight….
Shit! It’s the heat.
It’s certainly no Robert Frost piece of work but that’s okay by me. He wouldn’t like my work almost as much as I don’t like his. I wrote this little ditty when I was in the ninth grade and Sue didn’t appreciate it either.
Roses are Red
Violets are Blue
Poetry Blows
And so, does Sue.
❤NIGHT PARTNER’S❤
Gurgle! Gurgle! Sputter! and Pop!
Those strange night noises
that just won’t stop.
Bad dreams of dragons and
monsters continue,
What I really need now is a
cork to put in you.
😫😫😫
One of these days when we
both least expect it,
a terrible thing will occur.
Instead of gurgle, sputter and
pop, you’ll be gone, nothing left,
but a large brown wet spot.
ISN’T POETRY MAGICAL?
everyuselessthing.com 