Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Category

07/02/2024 “NUSERY RHYMES”   Leave a comment

How is your memory? Can you remember all of the nursery rhymes from your childhood? Most of them were kind of lame and luckily after a long period of time they’re lost from memory. Today I’ll supply you with three 21st century versions of some of the old rhymes that you can carry around in your memory banks for a decade or two. I actually enjoy these rhymes way more than all of those old and tired ones from my childhood.

Georgie Porgie Pudding and Pie

Kissed the girls and made them cry.

When the boys came out to play,

He kissed them too – he was funny that way.

😜😜😜

Jack and Jill went up the hill

For just an itty bitty.

But Jill’s two months overdue

And Jack has fled the city.

😁😁😁

πŸ€ͺπŸ€ͺπŸ€ͺ

Mary had a little lamb,

She tied it to a pylon.

10,000 volts went up its ass

And turned its wool to nylon.

πŸ˜•πŸ˜•πŸ˜•

I NEVER REALLY LIKED MOTHER GOOSE

06/27/2024 πŸ’₯πŸ’₯Retro LimericksπŸ’₯πŸ’₯   Leave a comment

πŸ†πŸ©πŸ†πŸ©πŸ†πŸ©

I’ve always thought of myself as quite the romantic but unfortunately there weren’t many women who agreed. All you really can do is accept your failings and keep on trying. I admit that after hearing ‘you’re not very romantic” a dozen or more times I finally got the message. Unfortunately, I never seemed to get it right and after discussions with other men I discovered it was quite possible that I wasn’t the entire problem. I continued to stumble along like a kid in a candy store with no pennies in his pocket. These limericks are for all of those ladies (and I use the term loosely) that didn’t appreciate my hundreds of romantic moves. These beautiful poems are a little dated, but they all have important information concerning men and women involved in “Little Romances”.

I wooed a stewed nude in Bermuda,

I was lewd, but my God! She was lewder.

She said it was crude

To be wooed in the nude

So, I pursued her, subdued her, and screwed her!

πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–

There 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.”

πŸ’žπŸ’žπŸ’ž

There was a young lady named Flynn

Who thought fornication a sin,

But when she was tight

It seemed quite all right,

So, everyone filled her with gin.

πŸ’πŸ’πŸ’

There was a young man from Purdue

Who was only just learning to screw,

But he hadn’t the knack,

And he got too far back

In the right church, but the wrong pew.

πŸ’˜πŸ’˜πŸ’˜

NEVER GIVE UP

06/18/2024 “LOVING THE 1960’S”   Leave a comment

It’s time for some limerick history. As you may be aware I collect limericks from all sorts of sources. Recently I purchased a few small used books from an online thrift bookstore. Buying books in bulk is always a risk but sometimes it pays off with pleasant surprises. Today’s limericks were published in a small inconsequential book of just sixty pages in 1960. It’s been 64 years since then and many of the limericks in the book were collected from even older sources. They are officially titled “Laundered Limericks” meaning many were cleaned of obscenities to get them printed but still contain some vulgarities. I’d probably rate some of these as PG but that’s for you readers to decide.

An old maid in the land of Aloha

Got wrapped in the coils of a boa.

And as the snake squeezed

The maid, not displeased,

Cried, “Darling! I love it! Samoa!”

πŸ™ƒπŸ™ƒπŸ™ƒ

There was a young lady named Gloria

Who was screwed by Sir Oswald Du Maurier,

And then by six men,

Sir Oswald again,

And the band at the Waldorf-Astoria.

😎😎😎

There once was a man of high station

Who was found by a pious relation,

Making love on the floor,

To – I won’t say a whore,

But a lady of poor reputation.

πŸ˜‰πŸ˜‰πŸ˜‰

A remarkable race are the Persians,

They have such peculiar diversions.

They make love all day

In the regular way

And all night they practice perversions.

πŸ€ͺπŸ€ͺπŸ€ͺ

GOTTA LUV THEM 60’S

06/06/2024 πŸ’₯πŸ’₯Limerick AlertπŸ’₯πŸ’₯   1 comment

I’m feeling somewhat indifferent today. I got up early, had a cup of really godawful coffee which is not a good way to start any day. My lack of interest was exacerbated by the few things I had to accomplish. For those of you that don’t know I drive a 2008 Smart car. It’s a small vehicle on a good day but it’s the only delivery vehicle I have. Here in Maine, we recycle bottles and cans and today was the day for me to cash in all those nickels. I checked my garage and to my surprise I had 7 large bags containing 420 bottles and cans. I then loaded up my Smart car with all seven bags. Every window in the car except for the windshield was partially blocked. I managed to fit everything into the car leaving just enough room for my oversized ass. I had to travel approximately ten miles to the redemption center, and I looked ridiculous. It’s hard to look inconspicuous when you’re driving what appears to be a giant garbage bag with headlights and a windshield. Apparently, the police officer who then stopped me thought it was hysterically funny as well. There were no citations issued but we both had a few laughs about the situation. I hadn’t broken any laws, had all of the required mirrors, and he sent me on my way by standing on the berm and laughing his ass off. Just so you know I cashed in the bottles and cans and then walked next door to the liquor store. I’ll be opening that bottle of gin later because this day has got to get better. Only limericks can raise my spirits and get my day back on track. Here’s two . . .

There was a young lady of Maine

Who declared she’d a man on the brain.

But you knew from the view

Of the way her waist grew,

It was not on her brain that he’d lain.

πŸ’₯πŸ’₯πŸ’₯

There was a young lady names Sue

Who preferred a stiff drink to a screw.

But one leads to the other,

And now she’s a mother –

Let this be a lesson to you.

πŸ’₯πŸ’₯πŸ’₯

SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL POLICE

(And Recycle)

05/23/2024 πŸ’₯πŸ’₯Limerick AlertπŸ’₯πŸ’₯   Leave a comment

It’s sunny outside. I’m not quite sure how it happened but it’s an effing miracle. I’m sitting here basking in the sun as I read through some of the thousands of limericks I have on file. Today’s limericks are not for the youngsters or those overly sensitive and chaste virgins. They were apparently written in the early 1980’s when an off-color sense of human was more acceptable. For a change these are a little bawdy but in a cute and funny way and I hope you enjoy them.

πŸ’₯πŸ’₯πŸ’₯

An obese old broker named Kip

Took a very fat girl on a trip.

He was talking of stock

When he put in his cock.

At the end she said: “Thanks for the tip.”

πŸ€ͺπŸ€ͺπŸ€ͺ

There was a young lady from Ghent,

Who said she knew what it meant,

When a man asked her to dine,

Fed her whiskey and wine.

She knew what it meant – but she went.

😎😎😎

There was a young lecher named Lapp,

Who thought condoms were just so much crap.

Said he: “All of us he-men

Like to scatter our semen.”

Three weeks later he still had the clap.

πŸ™ƒπŸ™ƒπŸ™ƒ

A virgin emerged from her bath

In a state of righteous wrath,

For she’d been deflowered

When she bent over as she showered,

And the handle was right in the path.

πŸ’₯πŸ’₯πŸ’₯

RATED PG

(Thanks Ray Allen Billington)

05/14/2024 “Poetry + Kids = πŸ’”   Leave a comment

I think today the title tells you everything you need to know. Here’s a selection of poetry written by children from English-speaking countries around the world. It always makes for a really good read and often motivates me to write poetry of my own. Enjoy. . .

THE SEA

By Susan Shoenblum, Age 11, United States

The untamed sea is human

Its emotions erupt in waves,

The sea sends her message of anger

As the waves roll over my head

πŸ’ŒπŸ’ŒπŸ’Œ

THE SPIDER

By J. Jenkins, age 10, New Zealand

With black, wicked eyes, hairy and legs and creepy crawling movements

Black shoe polish coat shining dully,

Hairy black thin legs.

Beautiful, silky and soft web

Dew hangs like miniature diamonds on lazy fingers.

A quick movement and this monster disappears.

πŸ’ŒπŸ’ŒπŸ’Œ

SHADOW

By Pramila Parmar, Age 11, Kenya

My shadow is very bad and foolish

Wherever I go it follows,

I lash it, I whip it,

still, it follows me.

One day I will kick it and it will never follow me.

πŸ˜•πŸ˜•πŸ˜•

By me . . .

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

I feel like a poet

And so can you!

πŸ€ͺ

05/09/2024 πŸ’₯πŸ’₯Limerick AlertπŸ’₯πŸ’₯   Leave a comment

Here we go again with another rainy and gray day. Spring really wants to make an appearance but for some reason she’s having difficulties. The sun shines brightly for 2 hours a day broken up into 15-minute segments. The problem then becomes when you have a “freezing your ass off” moment every time a cloud goes by. Truthfully Mother Nature is really starting to piss me off.

Now let me get back to the subject. A few months ago, I purchased a pile of old used books which appear to have once been library books. I have books from libraries all over the country. One in particular is a book of limericks (mostly clean) written by some well-known authors and celebrities. See what you think.

By: Lewis Carroll

His sister named Lucy O’Finner,

Grew constantly thinner and thinner,

The reason was plain,

She slipped out in the rain,

And was never allowed any dinner.

πŸ’₯πŸ’₯

By: Ogden Nash

It was an old man of Calcutta,

Who coated his tonsils with butta,

Thus, converting his snore

From a thunderous roar

To a soft, oleaginous mutta.

By: Oliver Wendell Holmes

The Reverend Henry Ward Beecher

Called a hen a most elegant creature.

The Hen, pleased with that,

Laid an egg in his hat,

And thus did the hen reward Beecher.

πŸ’₯πŸ’₯

By: Rudyard Kipling

There was once a small boy in QuΓ©bec

Stood buried in snow to his neck.

When asked: “Are you friz?”

He said: “Yes, I is,

“But we don’t call this cold in QuΓ©bec.”

πŸ’₯πŸ’₯πŸ’₯

As you can imagine I read hundreds of limericks a month but even I was taken by surprise when I read these four. Just goes to show you that even celebrated writers and authors have a real bitch of a time writing limericks. I’m sure that if of you took a few minutes, you could write better stuff than this. Only one of these four showed me something interesting and that was the one by Oliver Wendall Holmes. Read it carefully and see if you spot his clever efforts.

LIMERICK WRITERS RULE!

05/04/2024 “Morbid Yet Funny”   1 comment

Bath Abby, England

Here lies Ann Mann.

She lived an old maid and

She died an Old Mann

πŸͺ¦πŸͺ¦πŸͺ¦

Bayfield, Mississippi

Here lies my wife in earthly mold,

Who when she lived did nothing but scold.

Please wake her not, for now she’s still,

I’m alone, but now I have my will.

Boston Granary Cemetery

Here lie I bereft of breath

Because a cough carried me off.

Then a coffin they carried me off in.

πŸͺ¦πŸͺ¦πŸͺ¦

Skaneateles, New York

Underneath this pile of stones

Lies all that’s left of Sally Jones.

Her name was Briggs, it was not Jones,

But Jones was used to rhyme with stones.

The last words of Pablo Picasso (1881-1973)

“Drink to me.”

AMEN BROTHER!!

04/11/2024 πŸ’₯πŸ’₯Kid LimericksπŸ’₯πŸ’₯   1 comment

I’m feeling the need for some limericks today. I recently came across a book that I picked up at an on-line thrift bookstore and it was a former Boise Public Library book with a date of 2015. It’s a book of limericks written by children for children and some of them are priceless. With that in mind here are four that I particularly liked. I hope you will too.

A teacher of English, Ms. White,

Whose students got everything right,

Would put on her shades

As she wrote down her grades

Because all of her kids were so bright.

πŸ˜‰πŸ˜‰πŸ˜‰

“Ahoy!” Said a pirate named Marrrrty,

Who was fun loving, healthy, and hearrrrty.

“I believe it’s my duty

To go shake my booty,

Cause nothing is more fun than a parrrrty!”

πŸ€ͺπŸ€ͺπŸ€ͺ

Said little first grader Pam Plunkett,

“The past tense of ‘shrink it’ is ‘shrunk it.”

Told, “Yes, that is true!

“Just who taught that to you?”

She said, “Not really sure, I just thunk it.”

πŸ€—πŸ€—πŸ€—

A French chef we all call Miss Margo

Cooks lunch at our school here in Fargo.

But we wouldn’t eat

Any yucky frog meat,

So she makes something’ she calls “S cargo.”

*****

SPECIAL THANKS TO BRIAN CLEARY

03/14/2024 “Young Poetry”   Leave a comment

I’m a fan of some poetry. That being said I prefer short poetry like haikus or limericks. What I like even more is poetry written by younger children because it seems they write what they’re feeling and that makes it special. In the past I’ve posted poems from younger children collected from English-speaking countries around the world and today I offer four more excellent examples of their work. Their poetry is alarmingly good for their young ages and today’s topic will be Feelings. Enjoy!

By Paul Wollner – Age 7 – United States

I love you, Big World.

I wish I could call you

And tell you a secret:

That I love you, World.

*****

By Mary Flett – Age 9 – New Zealand

A loving arm

Shelters me

From any harm.

That shelteredness

Of kindness

Flows around me.

*****

By Ngaire Noffke – Age 12 – New Zealand

I shook his hand.

I touched him.

How proud I felt.

He said “Hello” softly.

I lost my voice,

But in my mind

I said everything.

*****

by Karen Crawford – Age 9 – United States

Have you ever felt like nobody?

Just a tiny speck of air.

When everyone’s around you,

And you are just not there.

*****

THANKS ONCE AGAIN TO RICHARD LEWIS