Now that the new year has begun and the obligatory resolutions have been posted, I thought it would be nice to return to one of the mainstays of this blog, LIMERICKS! I have a large and varied collection but today I’ll be reaching way back to 1979 for some inspiration. I hope you enjoy them.
There are times that self-reflection can be a dangerous and disappointing endeavor. As you get older you will tend to spend a great deal of time reviewing your life. If you’re a truthful person (at least to yourself) you may discover a number of things that aren’t all that wonderful. I thought for most of my life that I was quite the romantic. I was never going to be a Don Juan, but I thought I was able to hold my own in that department. I’ve finally came to the realization that I may have been mistaken. After all my years of reading, writing, and talking with thousands of people, it finally became clear that I was somewhat lacking in that area. Today’s post is a short collection of poetry by some well-known people whose romantic writings put mine to shame.
By Franz Kafka, “From A Letter to Milena Jesenska”
I am just walking around here between
the line (of my letter), under the light
of your eyes, in the breath of your
mouth as in a beautiful happy day.
❤️❤️❤️
By Lorrie Moore, 1957
Need: Something to lift you from your boots
out into the sky, something to make you like
little things again, to whirl around the
curves of your ears and muss up your hair
and call you every day.
❤️❤️❤️
By Elizabeth Jennings, 1916, from “Absence”.
It was because the place was just the same
that made your absence seem a savage force.
For under all the gentleness there came
an earthquake tremor: fountains, birds
and grass were shaken by my thinking
of your name.
❤️❤️❤️
By Ralph Waldo Emerson, from “Thine Eyes Still Shined.”
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t really dislike Christmas, but I certainly dislike the never-ending and relentless commercialization of what is supposed to be a religious celebration. I have to credit Amazon for doubling down on the holidays like never before because they’ve made it entirely too easy for people to overspend which in turn requires me to discipline myself like never before. Just too many gadgets, too many commercials and an endless supply of scammers who may be the hardest workers of all during the holidays. For every email I get from friends and family members, I get 100 from scammers and spammers. I’ve slowly been turned into a paranoid person like never before. It feels good to have the holiday over so I can get back to what I call normal (and I use that term loosely).
The post today will be taking a sharp left turn from the holidays to celebrate three things I love: poetry, young children, and Winter. Here are a few samples of great poetry by a few up-and-coming young poets.
I’ve spent most of my day dealing with a belligerent computer program that refuses to do its job. I shouldn’t be too upset since it’s a program I purchased about 10 years ago. I suspect that it has finally gotten to the point where my new computer is more than it can handle. It was a program used to write what I spoke. Now I’ll be forced to step back a few years and begin typing everything myself. I suppose I’ve gotten a little lazy over the years relying on that software. That being said I’m posting a few limericks today that were originally written sometime prior to 1960. Enjoy them unedited.
Here are a few limericks concerning food. They aren’t that bawdy, but they should still be considered “food for the soul”. So, enjoy them all especially the one with those juicycantaloupes.
I thought today would be a good day to post some poetry by youngsters. I’ve read all of the most famous poets, but they don’t give me the same kind of rush that poetry by younger people gives me. These were obtained from various English-speaking countries around the world. I hope you enjoy them as much as I have.
✍🏻
THE GRASS by Warren Cardwell, age 8, United States
The grass seems to dance,
It seems to walk,
It seems to talk,
It seems to like to
Have you walk on it,
And play with it too,
It seems to be stronger than you or I.
✍🏻✍🏻
THE JELLYFISH by Glenn Davis, age 11, Canada
Dome-like top, speckled, comets converging.
Gold-green flesh, wave edges urging.
Jellylike globules, soft lattice arms,
Spiked fury, leather lash meting out harm.
Golden-smooth rods, waving whiplike with water,
Beauty and danger, the jellyfish slaughter.
✍🏻✍🏻✍🏻
DEW ON A SPIDER WEB by Michael Capstone, age 10, New Zealand
I thought I’d start the month of October with a bang. Over the years I’ve posted thousands of limericks, and I hope I live long enough to post 10,000 more. I tried to pick a topic today to make these limericks a little more interesting. So, the topic for our October limericks is MOTHERHOOD. I’m sure all of you mothers out there, both male and female, will appreciate them.
Now that Labor Day has come and gone, we can all kick back, relax, and wait for the Fall foliage, then snow, and of course the string of holidays: Halloween, Thanksgiving, Hanukah, Christmas, New Years Eve and finally New Years Day. I’m exhausted already from just listing them all. Maybe I’m overdue for a two-month vacation to any remote island filled with topless native girls, beach feasts, and lots of grog and margaritas. But since that’s not happening how about we kick off the Fall season with a few “G” rated limericks.
I’m trying desperately to remain cool here in my man-cave. Our house is not airconditioned so needless to say I’ve been spending most of my time in my cave which is so much cooler than the upper floors. I’ve located fans all around to help keep my computer system from overheating and it also helps to have a fridge nearby filled with cold beer, chilled wine, and icy cold water. I’ll remain here until the weather breaks or until hell freezes over, whichever comes first.
So, let me think. What could possibly make a hot and steamy day better? Hmm! Raunchy limericks immediately come to mind, and I intend to share a few with you.
Oscar Wilde passed away in Paris in 1900. He spent the last few years of his life penniless and eventually died of neglect. He was a master playwright, poet and intellectual who was well known for his thousands of epigrams. It seems to me he would have been much more successful if he’d been born in the 20th or 21st century. To experience his wit and knowledge on an open forum talk show would have been absolutely amazing. Today I’ll post a few of my all-time favorites of his epigrams. I hope you enjoy them as much as I have over the years.
No great artist ever sees things as they really are; if he did, he would cease to be an artist.
Never trust a woman who tells you her real age; a woman who tells you that will tell you anything.
The proper basis for a marriage is mutual misunderstanding.
Men marry because they are tired, women because they are curious; both are disappointed.
Education is a wonderful thing, provided you always remember that nothing worth knowing can ever be taught.
We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.
Consistency is the last refuge of the unimaginative.
A cynic is a man who knows the price of everything but the value of nothing.
The old believe everything, the middle-aged suspect everything, and the young know everything.
To regain my youth, I would do anything in the world, except take exercise, get up early, or become respectable.
*****
Here is one of my favorite quotes of his and it is partially responsible for the creation of this blog.
“It is a very sad thing that nowadays there is so little useless information around.”
