Poetry is an enigma to me. I wouldn’t know good poetry if my life depended on it and even the bad poetry that I sometimes see doesn’t sound so bad. Anything that confuses me like that makes it impossible for me to take it too seriously. After a recent Bad Poetry Post, I received a few e-mails with samples from some of my readers. I assume they sent them because they thought they were bad, I don’t really know, so you figure it out. I think the first one was sent to me because I’m from Maine and someone thought I might be interested in Moose poetry. Good luck with that one. Here it is . . .
A moose is like a bull on stilts With a silly kind of head. And if one of them sat on you You’d probably be dead.
Do you really think that’s bad poetry? It seems okay to me but nothing special. It’s a little bit of truth with a little bit of silliness. Here’s the next one which I really don’t understand about a Toad. It’s a little weird but kind of funny. It seems more like a limerick than poetry but when you get right down to it there isn’t much of a difference.
The story that is told By a severely flattened toad, Is of evidential failure In attempts to cross the road.
This next poem hits home for me primarily due to my advanced age and secondly because it brings back memories of my favorite grandmother who passed away a very long time ago. See what you think.
💖
Of love and marriage who can say, which way these things can go. A loving wife, a shrieking hag, no one will ever know.
The years of youth have come and gone, with memories good and bad. The happiness of family, the love of mom and dad.
The years should teach you something, or so we’re always told. Remain yourself no matter what, and mellow when your old.
Your life is filled with happiness, and sorrows big and small, But not until your old and gray, will you understand it all.
It is a shame that through the years, this knowledge lies unused. Erring and blundering again and again, with help and advice refused.
So, think about the elder ones, grandmothers, grandfathers and such, Who’ve experienced life’s many problems, and could help you oh so much.
Their days are few in number, and once their gone it’s sad. Accept their help and listen close, to the experiences that they’ve had.
And when they’ve gone, you’ll think of them the way they used to be. The memories are all you have, but that’s enough you see.
No matter what day of the week or month of the year, there’s always time for some of Mr. Asimov’s finely crafted limericks. These will tend to be a bit more off-color than the ones I usually post so keep your kids and prudish spouses clear. This is a really good way to kick off your week. Here we go . . .
I was watching Peacock Network last night and made the mistake of tuning in a show where Snoop Dog and three moron friends reviewed videos of stupid people, both criminal and criminally stupid. Between all of the F-Bombs and gratuitous crap about weed, I was bored to tears. So today I’ll give you my written version of that and nary an F-Bomb will be heard. Stream this Doggy boy!
DONT ASK R.C. Gaitlin, 21, walked up to two patrol officers who were showing their squad car computer equipment to children in a Detroit neighborhood. When he asked how the system worked, the officers asked him for a piece of identification. Gaitlin gave them his driver’s license, they entered it into the computer, and moments later they arrested Gaitlin because information on the screen showed that Gaitlin was wanted for a two-year-old armed robbery in St. Louis, Missouri.
THIS WOULD BE ME The judge called the case of People vs. Steven Lewon Crook. The bailiff opened the door to the holding cell and called, “Crook, come forward.” Five of the prisoners entered the courtroom.
WRONG ALIBI In Springfield, Mo. Vernon Wayne Richmond, 18, stood up in court to give the details of his crime as part of a plea bargain to cocaine possession. Richmond said he found cocaine, put it in his pocket, and then was arrested by police after a Wal-Mart guard detained him. Unfortunately, Richmond had misunderstood which of his cases the plea was for. Actually, the district attorney was prosecuting him for an earlier arrest for having cocaine in his car and was unaware of the Wal-Mart arrest.
LAY THAT PISTOL DOWN, BABE In Annapolis, Md., during a celebration of Gregory Johnson’s 32nd birthday, his cousin Darwin Derwood Coates, 21, tucked a .22-caliber handgun into the waistband of his trousers and accidentally shot himself in the groin. As guests tried to assist Coates, Johnson relieved him of the gun and stuck it in the most convenient place he could find, which was the waistband of his own trousers. The gun fired again, striking Johnson in the buttocks. Both men were hospitalized.
Most of you readers enjoy the limericks I post but even more seem to enjoy the limericks created by kids. Here are a few more selections for your amusement.
I’ve been associated with Law Enforcement both as a police officer and also as a private citizen. I’ve seen a lot of things that were more than a little strange and some more than a little scary. So, when I stumbled upon this list that I’m about to post I wasn’t all that surprised. In the past I’ve posted about some strange laws still on the books in this country, but this list takes the cake. This is about weird sex laws gathered from a number of states and to say they’re a little bizarre is an understatement. Here we go . . .
In Harrisburg, PA, there’s a law against having sex with a truck driver in a toll booth.
In Newcastle, WY, there’s a law against having sex in a butcher shop freezer.
In Clinton, OK, it’s illegal to masturbate while watching two people having sex in a car.
In Tremonton, UT, you aren’t permitted to have sex in an ambulance.
In Alexandria, MN, it’s illegal for a man to have sex with his wife if he has the smell of onions, sardines, or garlic on his breath.
In Willowdale, OR a husband cannot talk dirty in his wife’s ear during sex.
In Ames, IA, there’s a law against a man drinking more than three slugs of beer while lying in bed with a woman.
In Ventura, CA, there’s a law against cats and dogs having sex without a permit.
In Kingsville, TX there’s a law against two pigs having sex on Kingsville Airport property.
WELCOME TO THE LAND OF THE FREE AND THE HOME OF THE WEIRD
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.
Over the years I’ve consistently stated that I was not a fan of organized religions. You can disagree or agree, that’s your privilege. I also don’t participate in religious holiday celebrations either. That being said, I know many of you do. Here is my contribution this year to add to your holiday cheer. We always need a little humor thrown into the mix.
Robert just graduated with a degree in Clinical Psychology and opened his first office. After some successful advertising he was astounded to have nearly 200 people wanting to be in group therapy. Robert decided to rent a large hall and invite the entire group. To break the ice, and to get the therapy started, he decided to ask for a show of hands how often the attendees had sex. He first asked for a show of hands of all the people who had sex almost every night. A modest number of hands were raised. He then asked, how many had sex once a week. This time a larger number of hands were raised. Robert then asked how many had sex once or twice a month. Again a few hands were raised. After he polled his group several more times, he noticed John sitting off to the side with this huge beaming grin on his face. He also noticed that John had never raised his hand, so he asked him how often he had sex. John stated proudly, “Once a year!” Robert then responded, “Why are you so happy getting sex only once a year??” John smiling from ear-to-ear responded, “Tonight’s the night!”
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!
everyuselessthing.com 