mc5 - Pea and Honey Recipes

The scansion in Glow Worms can be anything that is rhythmic and fits; it does not have to be de-dum de-dum de-dum

Caressed it makes a blissful moan [Kim, Lurker] Luck of the draw, old mates. See also Rosie.

But blown it squeals in pain

His love is deeper than the sea

Hard to fathom , coral tough

And when she walks by with a wave,

It nearly is enough eh?

Their love is something never said

They do but gasp and grunt

While intertwined in passion

Imagine a final line containing the phrase ...thrust through her... Or perhaps not.
With a Bank to Morden shunt.

My love is like a teddy bear

He's bald; one eye is missing

He's furry and he paws on me

And squeaks when we are kissing

I wrote a letter to my love [S, p, i, K - delightful.]

Expressing my intention

Her answer came wrapped round a brick

Declaring her abstention

My love encompasses all things

All creatures great and small

Except the pygmy marmoset

I don't like it at all.

My love is like a boil-ed sweet

It's sweet and hard and sticky

And when I suck it in my cheek

I give myself a hickey

Our love was never rash or wrong

But rauchy, wriggly, rapt

Er, raunchy.

Now I'm covered in a itchy rash

All poxy, syphed, and clapped.

My loves are lovely, dark and deep

Consisting, as they do

Of Amelle, Jade and Heidi

Hidden text

The Sugababes, fyi

Tweety Pie and Wicky Woo

My love is like a firework

That explodes, then fades to dark

My cherry bomb has long been popped

We did it in the park.

The wisest thing I ever heard

I now will tell to you:

When romantic'lly you've erred We await the wisdom - who's it going to be, who's it going to be?

Just hide the corpse from view.

My love is like a stifled sneeze

Which makes your ears go pop

It's better out than in, I say

So don't let your knickers drop My coat is the one at the left hand side ...

My love is like an urban fox

A-rifling in the trash or 'bin' if you're English. You choose.

She slinks along the midnight docks

Exchanging sin for cash or vice versa if you speak Brit English

My love is like a whooping crane

Slender, tall, aloof

She eats raw fish for breakfast

While standing on the roof

My love is like a tower crane

She stands so tall and strong

Lifting bricks to dizzy heights

As she does my dong. lovely girl

My love is quite the ding dong bell (belle?)

She says I sound her chimes

We make love in the steeple

Countless, sinless times

Comme haut arbre est mon amour

Ca me paraît sans fin

Et moi, j'n'suis que minuscule

J'ai une pine, hélas, pas un pin.

Mein Liebling ist eine heftige Frau

Who doesn't speak the lingo

But underneath her monobrow

She thinks of naught but bingo.

My chair is made of plasticine

It moulds to my own shape

But when my cat sits on it

It acts like sticky-tape

My other chair's a Chippendale

With strong and shapely arms

It stoutly holds my nether end

While I display my charms

I sit in this ejector seat

Thanking heavens my hair is all neat

have we slipped mode?

Well, just for one ode

Back to normal when this is complete

The normal service is resumed

And nights feels most ashamed

That deed must never be exhumed

And no-one will be blamed

I sit in this ejector seat

With my finger poised over 'Re-Tweet'

(pen) Whyjer do that?

Because I have flu and my brain isn't working properly... sorry. Try again...

I sit in this ejector seat

And press the big red button

Alas, I'm in a 'copter

Over Carshalton and Sutton

I wish I were a beer mat (Chalky) :-)

Soaking-up real ale

But sadly I'm a meerkat [Rosie] ;-)

Deserted, full of fail

I wish that on the internet

Diogenes Raak

I'd find just one true thing

Bat sadly there is Google

And, even worse, there's Bing

I wish I were the Christmas elf [Phil] the exact line I had envisaged ;o)

Who loads old Santa's sled

For after working all day long

I get ou' me 'ead.

I wish my Christmas stocking

Were twenty-four feet long

For holding my gift ladder

And the cast of 'Desert Song'

I wish I spoke Italian

Just like old Silvio

Coz the translation for 'stallion'

Is 'Sly Stallone' dontcha know Kapow.

I wish I were a snowflake

iracjh

All flaky, frigid, cold

But I would be so delicate

Pablo

I'd crumble, truth be told.

I wish I was a skater I've never seen the Dutch get so excited about anything so much as the prospect of canal skating at the weekend. Looking less likely now, though

In frilly lycra tights

Head down and arms a-flailing

On me you'd set your sights

I wish I were the evening star

Hesperus by name Hesperus by nature. Nudge, nudge.

Chuffing down to Swindon way

To take the wall of shame

- my paternal grandmother - god rest her soul - used the phrase 'wreck of the Hesperus' on a daily basis - not really sure why. She never mentioned evening stars or Swindon environs.

There's something 'bout a limerick

Don't know quite what it is (Chalky)

Hidden text

Softers and I occasionally exchange cryptic references to steam locos in these pages and elsewhere in the Morniverse. "Evening Star" was the name given rather sentimentally to the last steam locomotive built by British Railways, at Swindon in March 1960. Ugly great thing, more like the Wr of the H. My Mum's favourite phrase was "Patience on a monument."

P'raps it is the scansion [rosie] ;o)

Or just where the wit is

This is my resolution:

Projoy

Just ten square meals a day

One hundred miles of cycling

Then sell it on eBay

I wish I were a stick of rock

My avatar writ through

Or gothic-scribed with 'Blackpoo'[sic]

But Milton Keynes will do

I wish I were a Rolling Stone

Pref'rably Sir Michael

I'd proudly flaunt my rubb'ry lips

Which daily self-recycle

I wish I was a slow, sure thaw

That melts the ice and snow

I'd change the ice to sogginess

And make the rivers flow.

I wish I had a shopping list

To go with my fat wad

Because I'm so impulsive

At following a fad

It does not take me very long

In fact no time at all

To type into this little box

And see my words writ small

I wish I was a bulldog

Of true-bred British stock

Ugly, short and brutish ...shut up at the back...

And with a squash-ed clock

I've eaten too much fish and chips

To run the steeplechase

I'm wiser just to stay indoors

My tummy needs some space.

I wish I was a haggis

In the Highlands I would roam

Hunting down the savage neeps

For I'm no gastronome.

I wish I were a skier

A-hurtling fast downhill

A tree! I'd better veer

I wish I had the skill...

I wish I were a molecule

Bound covalently

With my neutrons and my protons

Yearning to be free

I wish I was Obama's dog

-ged Secretary of State

Then I'd have a dogged husband

With whom all shall mate.

I wish I were the King of Hearts

Ensconced 'tween Ace and Queen

I'd give you diamonds at the club

I think it has to be conceded that, sometimes, there simply is no last line capable of rounding off a stanza effectively.

I ask you to consider

[Kim] is that a first line? I was tempted to finish it myself, though poor form as I started it. I thought that:
Just don't ask where I've been
would have worked nicely.

What you'd do if I Assuming Kim's is a first line.

Was not the only bidder I looked at it a few times and ... gave up. But top notch, Softers. Why didn't you put it in?

For your loving eye.

I wish that global warming would

Come to this frozen waste

And make it just like Benidorm [pen] :o)

As tacky, lacking taste oblig

I wish I were a bar of soap

With a deodorant scent

I'd caress your every orifice

Until we're both quite spent

The Perry Bible Fellowship

Was born in Syracuse

Sometime's its just not funny giving a kick start

Depends upon your views.

I wish I were a bible

That stopped a 357 (a bullet calibre)

For then I would be holey

And finish up in Heaven oblig.

I wish I were a skating rink

Of ice - not just a roller

'Cos then I'd look up girlies' skirts

And pray for lack of solar Mercy killing

The problem with computers

Continually gets worse

We shouldn't all need tutors

Just ask the Morniverse

Were I the Easter Bunny

I'd bounce and skip and play

I'd dole out no coloured eggs

But only shades of grey.

Be careful what you wish for

Upon that far-off star

It could become black dwarf

Or go nova - worse by far

If ever you wish on a tsar

Make sure that you know C.P.R. limerick?

But something else will do

So let's plump for a clerihew

Eyjafjallajokull

Made all airlines look like a fool

But now it's relented (Chalky) And here's another one.

And the CAA's rep is dented. Heard on the radio this morning, someone saying that the policy had been zero tolerance for ash, and that the level deemed safe had now been raised by a factor of 10.

I wish I were a pilot

Recently on leave

For I wouldn't have to fly in ash

I'm really not naive - enough of this? I say yay.

I wish I were a shooting star

That others wish upon

But if I land in your back yard

You'll see that's just a con

I wish I were a tea-bag

Gently brewing in a pot

Unmindful of the scalding

Surroundings that I've got

If I could walk a silly walk

I'd join the Ministree

I'd hop and lurch and high-kick twice

And still not spill my tea

I'm glad I'm not a pollster

Like Gallop, YouGov, Mori

My prediction would be iffy

And punters would be sorry

I wish I was a baritone

Unlike say, Elton John

Then I'd seem more manly

When taking on the Don

I wish I were Mount Everest

Five miles high and more

My lofty heights are tempting

But your legs won't half be sore mercy killing

I wish I could show mercy

To all my enemies

But I like the feel of power

To see them begging on bent knees

I wish I were a blender Blender, I said.

Filled up with lentil soup

I'd whizz and whizz and whizz and whizz

Spinning leguminous goop

I'm getting very lazy

I put it down to age

I think much more before I do

Because my bird escaped its cage.

I drank a Bloody Mary

I won't do that again

It was full of tomato juice

Alas, it had no gin.

I wish it would stop raining

Assuming a missing line

penelope - I wish it would stop raining
Software - My hair is getting wet

That damp-dog odour follows me

I smell just like a pet!

I wish I were a business card

So slick like Fonzarelli

I'd hand myself out at the pub

Too bad they're watching telly

I wish I were a vuvuzela

Buzzing all day long

'Twould even kill Methuselah

Can so many be so wrong?

I wish I were on holiday

Amidst the snowy peaks

Alas I am in Basingstoke

Amidst the yobs and freaks

I like my pies with gravy

Deep fried with mushy peas

Gastronomic'lly I'm cheap

And not difficult to please

I wish I'd put yeast in my dough

My bread has gone all flat

Can water possibly make it grow?

Nah ... Let's stuff it with fat!

Running the line ...

Now tear along the dotted line

At sixty miles an hour

Veer not to either left or right

Just go straight full power.

I wish I were a football match

Shown on ITV

With ad breaks for consumer goods

The money'd go to me!

We play the vuvuzela with

With England on our mind

Just add a swannee whistle and

(Anyone for a swannee-vuvuzela performance?)

And you'll go deaf and blind Wait. "Swannee whistle" is a euphemism, right?

I wish I were a scarecrow

Standing in a sunny field

I'd buy all the suntan lotion

Until everybody peeled!

The poppy fields are my domain

They earn me quite a packet

So I'll defend them might and main

Against a Cosa Nostra racket

I wish I were a football

Just kicked around by all

Except, that is, the England team

Or that of nearby Gaul.

A football should be round and firm

Just like an apricot

Which should be sweet of taste in turn

– Reject it if it's not

I was sort of hoping for "Just like a football's not".

I wish you'd never shown me

How not to kick that ball

Then I'd not have played for England

And come home with f*ck all .. moving swiftly on ...

I wish I were a clothes peg

Clamped tightly on your knickers

A freshening breeze blows up your leg sorry sorry sorry

Quite startling passing vicars

American Football's what Charlie Brown would play

But the ball he would kick is shaped more like an egg

But Gordon Brown played rugby with an oval ball bit clunky, this

And Lord George-Brown would never budge from square leg. "Many modern poems are like bells of lead. They should tinkle melodiously, but usually they just klunk." (Dunsany) Can we tinkle a little more melodiously, please?

I wish melodious tinkles would

Less often splash the seat [irach] That's what you were angling for, isn't it?

But sitting isn't manly

When your trochees touch your feet

I wish I were a radio mic

Attached to Gordon Brown oblig.

Then I could let the whole world know

Why governments fall down mercy

I wish my suitcase would come back

From far-off Timbuktu

Alas, its British Airways - from bitter experience

So my bag's now in Peru

I wish I'd never mentioned

My girl-friend to my Mum

As now she wants to meet her

And then become her chum

I wish I were a conker (Softers) This has happened to me in the past. It is Not Good.

A hundreder at least

With n'eer a dent upon me

I'd slay the slimy beast!

I wish I were a croûton

Dunked in hot onion soup

From then I'd become soggy

And lost in all the gloop.

I wish I was in England just got off the ferry from Hull this morning and feeling very foreign here again - but managed to use my clumsy Dutch to ask for change to use the car wash - hurrah!

Drinking brown English ale

Watching cricket in the rain[pen] you found someone in the Netherlands that doesn't speak English! Spraken het Netherlands has corrupted your grammar, surely it is subjunctive when one wishes ;o)

And reading The Daily Mail who lives in the United States!

I wish I were made of purple taffeta

All shiny and crisp on the outside, lined with pink satin I'm not sure what metre this is...some sort of pentameter it seems, in a mixture of iambs and amphibrachs

I would look just like Liberace

With a flouncy bag to put my hat in And now, back to normal...

I wish it was steak pie tonight Sausages tonight. Steak pie on Thursday but I'm stewing it now and it smells delish... freezer full of imported English food, y'see

Instead it's bloody sausages A rhyming challenge, but it was forced, really.

But with onions and mash (CdM) Yeah, forced. Chips? I dunno.

I minimise my lossages.

I wish I were in Camelot

With Arthur and his pals

I'd ride a steed and lance a lot

Of the "purty" gals.

I wish I were a cola

Instead, I'm Panda pop

I'm not the drink, I'm the game!

And my scansion seems to drop

My fizz and sparkle all leached out

Upon these barren shores

So back to Ramsgate I must sail

And clean my facial pores!

I wish that flotsam didn't float

And jetsam would just sink

But water, it is just too dense

Though fish ne'er touch the brink!

I wish I were a hosepipe

But not while there's a drought

I like to spout, not dribble

And wear my knickers inside-out!

hemline

My water-butts are all quite full

Of slime and rotting leaves

So into it you thus must luzz

Wot a tangled ryme we weaves!

There isn't time to start the day

The sun is still asleep

And so am I

Deep

My snore, I'm told, is very loud

I could wake the dead.

And, alas, my other half

Takes someone else to bed sorrysorrysorry

I wish I were the Ace of Spades (pen) Yeah, me too. Farting.

For I so love to dig

I'd dig for diamonds and win hearts

And spend time in the brig.

I wish I were in Shangri-la

Or else in Xanadu

Fulham Road just ain't the same

When I am not with you.

Next month I'm getting married

To my cousin's mother's brother

I only really chose him

'Cos oldies, there's no other!

My uncle is the man I married

So therefore we're both gay

My step-kids are my cousins

And **** lots when they play! (I know...so wrong.)

These rhymes are getting pretty racy

We'd better tone it down.

It's time for straight-laced prudence

To shed her straight-lace gown

I wish I were a road hump

I'd slow you down for sure

I'd mess with your suspension

And shake you to the core There is a local road here where the bloody things are so high and narrow that they bottom on my gearbox - grrrrr!

Julian Clary

[Software] You can bottom on my gearbox any time

I wish I were a camel's hump

The dromedary kind

A hairy desert-crossing lump

Sierra Mike

A seat for your behind

I wish the game of Limericks

Would only need four lines

Then that would save on typing

and leave time for shoeshines.

I wish I were a wiener

And on the Danube be

So please don't wish my town goodnight

We waltz til half past three

I wish I were in Amsterdam

Relaxing with a spliff

I'd close my eyes and take a drag

And chase a hippogriff.

I wish a were Geordie (Kag S, Giert)

Hidden text

= From north-east England. Agreeable but incomprehensible speech, football-mad, often lacking both sobriety and appropriate clothing etc, etc.

With tons o' kegs 'o beer

I'd never share them with my friends

They're Southerners, thus queer!

Hidden text

[Rosie] Take that, old chum :-)

I Say, Porter!

I wish I were a Welshman

Brandishing a leek

I'd be "Leek King" of Casnewydd

And win races like a Greek.

I wish I played cassette tapes

With Dolby Stereo sound

But I have just my eight-track

And half a lousy pound.

I wish that pair would go away

You know just who I mean

I think that same thought every day

Whootz

It's not the king and queen.

I wish a were a candlestick

Hot wax poured down my body

Depilating furtively

I'd hate to be Bill Oddie oblig. What a load of rot. Can we please have some sense in limericks, if that's not an oxymoronic thing to ask?

I wish I was a ninja's sword

Most dangerous to wield

I'd snicker-snack 'til daybreak

While talking to the shield

The vole deserves a mention

For its green and frugal life

As also its fecundity

Who'd be the vole's poor wife?

Let's not forget the porcupine

He's sharp and to the point

But when it comes to making love

It takes much more than 'point and shove' point??? Also, *gets coat*

Now let us praise the noble eel

Anoint it with hot oil

Its slimy length slips down the throat

To in your tummy coil

eeeeuuuuwwwww
The river bed is home to chub

Chubby as chubs can be

A little maggot on a hook

Then supper - yes sirree

Now its time to talk of tench

But not of Angelfish

A tench is just a would-be carp

And makes a tasty dish.

Consider now the salmon

Which jumps upstream to spawn

It has no need for smutty books

Or any brains, just brawn

The cod, a northern waters type

Is tasty? No, that's just hype

But in its time its caused more wars

Than a baby's dirty dipe. Was struggling for a rhyme.

When the Northern Sea gets stormy

And the fishing boats are tossed

The humpback whales start singing

As the the cod find to their cost.

I wish I were a trawlerman Welcome back, Rosie

Battling the icy waves

But I am a much smaller man

A youth who rarely shaves

I wish these piranha lacked teeth

So they would not scan so badly

While swimming by the Barrier Reef

And masticating madly.

The way to treat a gentleman

To keep him on his toes

is to tap him on the shoulder

And recite some bawdy prose

A common chap, it must be said

Stands firm upon the ground

A baseball cap atop his head

His belly large and round.

A man with just a bit of class (or class, depends on where you're from as to how you say it)

Beats a man who just has none

He'll play down his credentials

But you'll know that you've been done

I wish I were an aardvark oblig.

Munching down on yummy ants

Instead I'm just a card shark

Five aces in my pants

I wish I were a kinkajou

It's such a cutesy word

The carcajou is just passé

A wolverine, I've heard.

Among the forest, lives something

Hidden text

It seems that sometimes when people try to rhyme the 1st and 3rd lines, the poems don't scan and they forget that the 2nd and 4th lines should rhyme.

With twenty thousand eyes

But the twenty thousand cataracts

Cause twenty thousand styes

The telly has a broken screen

The rain drips through the roof

There's dry rot in the window frames

And mildew on the pouffe

I wish I had a winning line

For my football pool do they still have those?

I'd keep my secret to myself

And count my cash, and drool.

I've bloody won the jackpot!

In my office sweep

I got the winning ticket

The prize? A blow-up sheep :-(

My di-ri-gi-ble ovine

Gives me a lot of fun

Confusing all the sheepdogs

Sensors (please excuse the pun)

Yesterday was my birthday

Whootz

The 27th one

Everybody ate lots of turkey

And learned how to write Glowworms

I wish I could knit sweaters

Or even crochet scarves

My bottom might not be so cold

Spang

I'll not do things by halves

penel

This trend for shortening player's names

Spang

Deserves a special mensh

Ra

It makes me an Egyptian god

Ros

But I am still a wench.

Phi

I feel like I'm a little Greek

pen

Mine suits my occupation

Soft

This looks much more malible

ImNot

But I'm just a negation

Cd

Run down and slightly suspect

Ph

And suffering with acid

FG

I'm not in my element

Sp

And not much good when flassid

SW

I wish I were in Lapland

FG

With Santa and his reindeer

Spa

I'd take a curing water bath SO looking forward to the rhyme match on the last line ...

Im

To get rid of this pain, dear

Tu

It seems quite elemental

Span

To measure stuff by hand

SW

But in case of more precision

Use a rubber band!

For a pet, I want a unicorn

A griffon or centaur

I shun such things as pussy cats

They leave me wanting more

I wish I were a shovel

In a brawny stoker's hand

Feeding hungry furnaces

Ah! Wouldn't life be grand!

I wish I were a Christmas pud too early?

Made by Blumenthal

Maybe I'd taste really good

If made in the fall!

It seems the snow has cleared at last

Or turnèd into slush

Both arms, one leg in plaster cast

Take heed: on ice don't rush!

The honeymoon is at an end

A split is on the cards

He caught her in the bellboy's arms

Drinking pints and yards Nice pub, the Bellboy's

It seems we never take a break

From standing on our feet

Except when we are lying down

Felled by the icy street

I wish I were an asteroid

Careering round in space

Waiting to be named after

One of the human race

I wish I were a reindeer

I'd rein in all the deer

I'd put vermilion on their snouts

And a tail-light on their rear.

I wish that I had Santa's sack

Full of Christmas goodies

I'd give those reindeer all a smack bah humbug

Like ASBO-worthy hoodies.

I'm flippin' sick of Christmas

How sick? That's so polite!

I've upchucked all my cookies

On Giertrud - out of spite

I wish I were a bottle

Of moonshine or poteen

I'd upchuck all my stomach contents

And turn dear Spangle green.

Hidden text

Revenge, sweet revenge.

It's now two-oh-eleven

You had said half-past-eight

On this stairway to heaven

I hate it when you're late.

I wish I were a blowlamp

Projoy

With a single fiery eye.

Whate'er I looked at would burn up

And in-stan-tally die.

I forgot to wear my underwear

Commando by default

Mercy killing I'm hopeless and I'm childish
A clueless simple dolt

I cannot make the meeting

I'm running rather late

Leaves on the line at Coulsden

Have really clogged the gate.

They say we must work harder

But won't pay a penny more

I've got an empty larder

And rats upon the floor
I only wish the bosses

Could live on crumbs and gruel

This may well cut their losses

Or just shareholders fool

I'd rather be in Timbucktu

Unearthing ancient books

Rather than be a sous chef

One of too many cooks

I say! This broth is spoiled

Waiter, can you catch this fly?

Don't worry, sir, it's boiled

Never mind, I'll take the pie

A Broadway play on tour

Performed by English men

Arrived in Pascagoula

Then quickly left again

This crossword is too cryptic

It would take a cipher whiz

Or that bloke that's down the pub

Who always wins the quiz

This rumpsteak is too chewy

It's made from kangaroo

It's served à la chop suey

Quickly, where's the loo? [Spangle] just what I had in mind

I wish I were a satnav Trad.

Signaled by GPS

I'd have you drive right through a lake

and make you a big mess.

I've ne're time to play this game

For that we're truly pleased

So this line isn't really here

It's just something I sneezed

laughs out loud

I wish I were a sewer rat

Just lolling in the muck

To live in filth is de rigeur

If fragrant you're a schmuck
mercy killing - ain't it curious how some of these little ditties just take off and others hang around like a smell on a landing ..

I wish I were a landing smell yeah... oblig.

Pervading everywhere

My sulphuretted compounds

Would announce Kilroy was there.

I wish I were a poultergeist

A ghost of chickens past

I'd just pull off my drumsticks

Then headlessly run fast

I wish I were a tuba

With a 'normous shiny bell

My basso tones will resonate

And make your life sheer hell. This has sat here for 9 days so I've finished it myself. I wouldn't say it was a particularly difficult one.

I wish I were an endgame Time, gentlemen?

A glow-worm's final thrust

The last bright glimmer in the dark

Arising from the dust

Why kill it? It moves faster than any other game in MC5.

I wish you'd all just go away

I know just what you mean

You're really getting up my nose

Like Elton John, great queen.

My phone ate the "whoops" button

didn't realize we were missing our dividing line
My phone ate the "whoops" button

It thought it was delicious (this is the 2nd line - the first is "my phone at the whoops button)

It tasted of old mutton

Which makes me feel suspicious

I wish to make a statement

That will edify the press:

"I've got loads of money -

Most people have got less."

I wish I were a paintbrush

Thrust deep in thick, thick paint

I'd spread it 'cross your canvas

But an oil painting? You ain't.

I need some inspiration

My mind has drawn a blank

Has anyone got any thoughts

I did have, but they stank.

(Rosie has cleverly made my move look like I forgot the question mark.)

[Knobbers] That's cut-throat competitve poetry for you. Well - doggerel dogfights, anyhoo.
It's funny how your brightest thoughts

Are had while in the bath

These musings land one in the courts (Knobbly) So you did. I've only just noticed.
(pen) Knobbers? Knobbers?? You're dir'y.

If played out before a hearth Broad "a" mode.

I wish I were a lawyer

Who travels place to place

Distributing fee notes

And winning every case

I'm glad I'm not a banker

For bonuses I hate

Those coins weigh down my pockets

And make me very late.

Beware the Jabberwock my son!

His eyes are all aflame

Be bold, and with your vorpal sword

Restore our family name.

This recipe for meatloaf

Needs garlic -- twenty cloves

This means that it can stop a train

And empty it, in droves Hmmm. Maybe someone else could have done it better.

I wish that I could write a verse [pen] good result given the circumstance

In praise of paradigms

But that would clearly be peverse

So just do one that rhymes.

I wish that I were far away

In fabled Samarkand

I'd grab a passing camel

And ride across the sand

I've learned why these are called glowworms

(Though I haven't quite mastered the form)

Though they're nothing like a limerick

Nobody really notices if I add an extra beat or two - hang on, where's me mate?

So why am I a glowworm? come and have a go if you think you're hard enough

Because, by night, you shine

Your arse emits a friendly light

That almost outshines mine

I wish I were a pot-hole (irach) Er, we'll be the judge of that. :-)

To lie in wait for bikes

I lure unwary pedallers [p, R, SM, i] marvellous. And not just because it's apparently in praise of me :o)

Then I leaps out and strikes

Today's the day the Aintree nags

Leap o'er Becher's Brook

And bookies take their money bags

To fill with takings took

I beat the bookies at their game

My stake went on a silly name
And when the first horse passed the post
I was the one who'd won the most so sorry, it ran away with me

I wish the odds were better

'Gainst life's slings and arrows (pen) I hope you behaved yourself.

But with the right protection

The winning margin narrows

I wish I were a policeman

Because I am power mad

My truncheon would be hard and thick

A lot like me and dad

I wish I were a spotted skunk

A weas'lly little stinker

And smell just like my grandpa stunk

'Tho I'm just a little pinker

This break in the proceedings

Could not have been timed better

I'll go and take some readings (mode = weather nut.)

And see if it got wetter awright, Rosie?

I wish I were a cloudburst (pen) Das Wetter ist sehr trocken.

I'd rain all over you

With splishy-sploshy raindrops

As big as drops of dew

The sun today is very hot

But the air is very cold

Sunburn, frostbite, all at once

nfras

But where? You shan't be told

I'm working very hard today

At writing deathless prose

I'm trying to clear my desk, you see

Of all that is verbose.

The midnight oil's all been burned

Adding to greenhouse gases

The textbook pages have been turned

By studious lads and lasses.

nfras

The time has come for all good men

To join in our just cause

And if we find agreement, then

We'll campaign to change the laws

nfras

Good women too, are needed here

They add that feminine touch

As long as they don't get ideas

And wear the trousers much *steams*

I wish I were a referee (pen) Not surprised. Get some water in the boiler - quick.

I rule with rod of steel

Don't hesitate to show the red

If the goalie's not genteel.

The linesman has an easy job

He types <hr> and lo!

A new fresh piece of webpage

Let creative juices flow!

The policeman's lot is happy

As kettling he doth go

He views the world as crappy

He's act'lly right, you know.

The marks are all submitted

The final grades are in

The students are all failing

Their careers are in the bin

If I were Occam's Razor

I'd only have one blade

The epiphytes of reason

Expediently flayed

If I were that much shorter

Then I wouldn't bump my head

But six foot four-and-a-quarter

I can't fit in my bed!

I wish a were a piece of gum

Stuck underneath a desk

I'm bioindestructible

And truly look grotesque

A blob of primal bubble gum

With plastic spider in

Oh dear, am I in trouble, mum?

For ruining your gin? mercy killing

I wish I were a tapeworm

As some have done before

I'd sink my suckers in your gut

And have a proper gnaw

I wish I hadn't started

To paint this flipping bridge

My arms are jolly tired

And all bitten by a midge

I wish I were a cheesecake

Covered in blueberries

Served with Cornish clotted cream

And on the top some cherries.

Or some fruit or other from Waitrose in Didcot which is even posher than Newbury's. What a complete pile of crap.

I used to have ambition

Me too; I now know better

Why bother when there's someone else

Who's more of a go-getter

I'll never give up trying

I'll always do my best

OK, OK, I'm lying

Glad I got that off my chest

I wish I were a penguin

I can't quite fathom why

I'd be waddling in the bitter cold

Under a shelterless sky.

I wish I knew the reason

My nose keeps falling off

Though it really only happens

When I stick it in the trough.

I wish I knew what I should do

But I am now in despair

If only I could find a clue

But I've looked everywhere.

Gary Linemaker

I'm glad I'm not a bidet

It's a rather thankless position

I sluice away the products

Of a person's bottom section

I love my little lobster

Jayne Mansfield is her name

She will not lie or rob, sir

And she's not a crabby dame

I used to count on fingers

But now we all use digits

With bits and bytes I get confused

And nybbles give me fidgets.

While seated at the organ [Rosie] Up went the lobsters, Boiinnng!

I played a Bach cantata (Kim) Those infernal crustaceans.

The coda it was foregone

Like sex in Lysistrata.

The Big Bad Wolf is at the door

I heard his Big Bad howl

I'm curled up on the Big Bad floor

With Big Bad Tessa Jowell. Tess y diawl ( = Tess the devil).

I wish I were a Murdoch Hack

Gath'ring lies and muck

I'd rake it in a heinous stack

And print it. What the f*ck.

I wish I were a grease gun Pe-NE-lopeh, really! Nice one, BTW.

To lube your balls of steel

A dollop just might ease one

But I'd have to check and feel the showerproof trench in lilac... thanks

I wish I were connected

Like the Internet at home

I'd have my own IP address

Like private-eye@gnome.

Hidden text

All right, it's an email address. Bugger off.:-)

I wish I had some glasses

To pour us all a drink

Then we'd start making passes

At penelope we'd wink you know you like it, really ;o)

Once, I winked at a poet

I bet it were Ian MacMillan

I wondered how you'd know it
As he's not exactly thrillin' sorrysorrysorry

I wish I were a drawing pin

Dropped point-up on the floor

I'll lurk there 'til your unshod feet

Learn what a pin is for.

The Purpose of the Noble Pin

[cfm] More good stuff! The pin and the Lysistrata ones are two of my recent favorites.

Is simple to explain:

It pricks, it pierces, burrows in

To produce instant pain

They tried to pin it on me

And I gave a girlish shriek

As my plasma went free

I started feeling weak.

I started Monday morning

With a song apon my lips

By Friday afternoon at 5

'Twas settled on my hips.

My bagpipe playing will improve

Whenever I quit smoking

I put a gasper down each drone (gasper n. cigarette)

The Scots, they think I'm joking.

[i, cfm, SM, R] Very satisfying, that last one - because of use of the word 'gasper', and also because of the cruelty to bagpipes.
It's all done, bar the shouting

And even that's diminished

So, when you're done with pouting

Puckoon

this rhyme, they say, is finished.

I'll raise a glass to one and all

A worthy toast it is

To this quite splendid cannonball

A long draught of Bucks Fizz

one-liner

My first appears in sun and rain - solve the word puzzle - can we make this work?

The next in ears and nose.

My third in fourth but not in fifth

My fourth in drawers not hose

The time to buy some posher plonk (crossing over from the limerick game here)

Is the time when you have money

Then with winish snobbery

Serve it mixed with honey (I don't like them dry wines)

'Twas on a bright September morn

When I met my true love

Projoy

But then the teacher caught us

As I began to shove Coat!

I wish I were the author

Of some fine erotic verse

I'd win you -- first with subtle rhymes

Then something more perverse

There's something big and hairy there.

Rebekah Brooks it is

She shares a hairdo with Shaun White

When it rains, it tends to frizz

I wish I had completed

What I set out to do

Alas, I was defeated

By black magic and voodoo

I wish I had a flower pot

To place upon my roof

Amongst the tiles and slates, it's bloom

Would brighten, fade, then...poof!

I wish the zombie at my door

Would kindly bugger off

He visited me once before

And all my brains did scoff

:^)

I have a small confession

'bout a weakness that I have

I have sworn off the repression

But deep down I'm just a chav.

I wish that I was ten feet tall That zombie one was excellent =)

I'd look down on the throng.

Then they would look up at me

And dangle from my thong

I called and left a message

That said please call me back

I guess you didn't hear it

Or you've given me the sack

I wish I were a sack of spuds

Wilja, Queens or Roosters

Producing enough biofuel

To launch two rocket boosters

I wish I was on top of things

I'd be a happenin' dude

My minions toiling down below

Would be completely screwed

I wish I had a bushy beard

I'd stroke it thoughtfully

And in it I'd collect stale food

For when there's naught for tea.

I wish I had a fine moustache

To hide my crooked lip

I wouldn't fake with chimney ash

In case my nose did drip

I wish I had big sideburns on we go...

Like 'Elvis mutton chops'

I'd wag them fiercely in your face

Until you called the cops.

The thin blue line

My blue suede shoes are rather tight

My sparkly pants are, too

My hips are arthritic now

But Hound Dog, I love you

Oh, to live with floppy ears

Like HRH the heir

Which makes no sense to most of us
So shall we leave it there?

Let's have no nonsense. Careful now.

Mother's watching, you see.

The scansion is just hard, there, and it seems to have stalled us. May I offer a slight rewrite?

penelope: Let's have no nonsense. Careful now.

cfm: Mother's watching us.

CdM: So take it easy, Mrs Peel

Get it done - no fuss

I need some information

That is hid in antient tomes

It's all about the height of dwarves

And religious views of gnomes.

:

If I was blessed with hindsight

I'd know my bum was clean

Alas, I'm no contortionist

And so it goes unseen

The trouble with solicitors

Hang on, where do I start?

My phone is ringing off the hook

It rings each time I fart.

I wish I were a carpenter

You'd see that I can saw

I'd take out my nice big tool

And drop you through the floor assuming it's a wooden floor

I wish I were a foolish maid Brains? What are they good for? They only get you into trouble and create more work.

A-milking foolish cows

Flirting with a scurvy knave

And more, as time allows.

I wish I were not at this desk

At this ungodly hour

This corp'rate life is too grotesque

Except for those with power

Brains are just a waste of space

And so are dirty socks

But well-coiffed whiskers on one's face

Can cover up one's pocks

It only takes a second to ... - usa

Say "thank you" now and then

Manners maketh man you know

But banging maketh MEN!

I wish I were a mermaid

My shimmery tail would swish

Enticing foolish sailors

Who yearn women that smell like fish

Calypso on her island

Conceals her true intent

Her penchant for fresh crabmeat

To mask that fishy scent

If I were a door knocker

I'd want a change of job

I'd be shiny, bold as brass

And be a polished knob.

Behold this knob of butter

Behold this cob of corn

The use for these is obvious

Now, let's go make some porn

I wish I were a porn star

Is the title of a book

I've seen the author's photo

It wasn't worth the look

I wish I were a smuggler

I'd deal in contraband

Forget parades and celebrations

My wares are much too grand.

I wish my nose were bulbous

Karl Maldenesque, indeed

I'd snore with improved resonance

My breath it would impede mercy killing...

Have mercy on the graceless

The faceless and the lost

For without eyes they cannot see

And mouthless, cannot floss.

I wish I was a haggis

But fried instead of simmered.

With my buddies neeps and tatties

On pure white plates that glimmered.

Let he who is without sin cast

A blessing on this place

For purity is rare indeed

And we could use some grace

I wish I had pink toe shoes

And a pink tutu as well

I'd prance across the try line

Oh how I wish I was a gel

It only takes a little snip

To right those years of wrong

To redirect each errant ship

And invert that manly dong Coat!

The thickest mist has envelopèd

My normally robust brain

And thus it has developèd

To drizzle, then light rain.

Hidden text

[Rosie] What ho, old chum!

I'm glad I'm not Italian [Where's you bin, Rosie?]

I'm not a fan of gnocchi

Focaccia brings me out in hives

Like Berlusconi's cock(y). (Softers, Phil(th)) Avoiding irritation and the consequent hypertensive stress and the casting of heavy objects at the screen. However, this place is addictive.

I wish I were a hedgehog

All cute, but rather prickly

Hidden text

[Rosie] thought so.

I'd take care while crossing roads

Or I'd meet my Maker quickly

I wish I were a filament

Or something just as tenuous

This constant need for intro lines

Is getting rather strenuous Oblig.

I wish that I could start anew

And be sixteen again

I wouldn't have a single clue

But sex would be the same

I wish I knew just what to do

In high-class situations

My knowledge of such etiquette

Is scant, and strains relations.

I wish I could convince you

That rats and voles and foxes

Lack pouches like a kangaroo's

So keep their young in boxes Poor form to post twice in the same verse, but it just seemed right.

I wish my next-door neighbour

Would leave her curtains open

My TV isn't working [CdM] Sometimes you just know what has to be done. We've all been there

So I'm sittin' here just mopin'

I wish the cold would go away

And visit Timbuctu

Cos then, I could just throw away

This useless cure for 'flu

I wish I were the antidote

To all things good and pure

Just read The Sun and take it in

Then don't read any more.

Detaching burrs from dog fur

Is a fine career for all!

It's advertised on craigslist

For it's best to start off small

To find a pleasant country home

One must search far and wide

While if you want a council flat

Let caution be your guide

I wish I were a rock star

Like Freddie M of Queen

I'd give myself a pseudonym

Like "Prince" or "Mr Bean"

I wish I were a comic

Ironic and profane

With fortune astronomic

And a demeanour insane

I wish I were a member

But I can't afford the dues

And also I was blackballed

For having muddy shoes

A friend of mine once told me

She was born on Ganymede

By Jove, she's Galilean

And rides a martian steed.

I wish that I were liquid

I'd then go with the flow

And if I had a quick wit

Be quicksilver on the go

My horse has lost his whinny

And worse than that, its neigh

It's gone mute, poor hinny

That's all there is to say

A cat has got my horse's tongue

And ate the whole thing down

And now her caterwaul sounds hoarse

Which makes the neigh-bores frown.

I wish I were a diction'ry (Chalky, last one) Gracefully terminated at long last.

My life would have such meaning!

I'd never be at a loss for words

They call it verbal preening ... which seems to be stalling the natural flow of this game [Ta Rosie]

I'd hate to be a pinko *ducks*

'Cos all my friends are Tories

And doubtless they would think, "Oh..."

"never mind those dodgy stories" mercy killing

I wish I were a carving knife

I'd slice the Christmas ham

My cuts would all be fancy

the best of them just glam!

I wish it was still Nineteen Ten only because it scans and might have a rhyme

When I was just a tot

My dear Mama was nineteen then

But me, I'd seen the lot.

I wish it were tomorrow

And not just half-past-eight

Because I will be given

Merlyn

A purple, wrought-iron gate

I wish today would never end

Tomorrow I get hung

[Raak] LOL

And well hung I hope you'll be (Raak) Did you mean hanged?.

When from the rope we're swung

I need a way to make this clean

And free from filthy canker

Lest I be charged with lechery

And told to leave Sri Lanka

I wish I were a drawing pin Last one v. good, esp. Chalky

Point-up upon a chair

To prick the pompous arses when ... Ta Rosie :)

I feel their derriere TVM. A gift.

I wish I were a guinea pig [Darren] Did you mean swanged?

Caged up in a lab [CdM] That's the sort of thing Google usually says to me.

Warm and cosy, drugs galore

Doesn't that sound fab?

I wish I had a horse and plough

And maybe one small field

I'd have a place to sow wild oats

Before my fate was sealed

I wish I had a quiet weekend [Chalky] "Sri Lanka" - excellent :-)

Sailing the Aegean sea

I'd sail inside a giant yacht

Just, I, myself, and me.

Some lovely glow-worms recently, goed gedaan
I wish the housework did itself

While I snoozed 'neath the covers

My Roomba, Scooba, REEM, and Nao

Cleaning up during their hovers

I wish I had another arm

I'd hug you even tighter

And when you were relaxed and calm

I'd box your ears, you blighter. Confused messages. Keep 'em on their toes

The answer to this anagram

Is "Awesome tartan thrashing"

I've solved it here's the answer:

Software - I've solved it! Here's the ~~answer~~ question:
CdM - O what's a reet rant mashing?

Footnote 1: @Darren Yes, I did see what you did there
Footnote 2: @Software Apologies for taking that liberty with your line
Footnote 3: "rant" (Scots dialect, stretching usage just a bit) = merry, wild

[CdM] Yeah, as soon as I posted it I realised I'd screwed up the poem. It would have been better to try for it on line 4. Still, onwards and upwards.

The answer to this anagram
O what's a reet rant mashing?...
What that means is anger or
Awesome tartan thrashing

Now there's class.

I wish I had a snooker cue

I'd pot a ball or two ... admirable work on last one, Darren and CdM :-)

For those watching in black and white

I'll pot the pink, then blue.

I wish my head was screwed on right

Alas, it's set askew

So please ignore my curious stance

On quitting the EU

I wish you'd stop your robbing banks

For making themselves rich

And why am I still firing blanks?

My snip still needs a stitch (A merciful seeing off, sorry Chalks)

Thanks pen - was wondering how to 'do the double' and get rid of the darned thing myself ..

I wish my current deadline

Was twenty weeks away

But sadly I am overdue

From the 21st last May

I wish I were just virtual

Instead of flesh and bone

I'd feed off Apple- Macintosh

And leave the cakes alone Funny how the line comes to you after five days or so...

I wish I mashed potatoes

The way my mother did

Some subtle twisting of the wrist

Then mix in puréed squid

I wish that I lived closer

to Kingston-upon-Hull

Right now I live near Worcester

Where life's just dross and dull

Oh how I wish this Valentine

That I were wed, not single

When I am 80 who will care

To share my final Pringle?

... Because, when all the chips are down [Darren} Nice.

You know who you can trust

Not gold, nor crown, nor any thing

But you can rely on lust.

I wish it weren't leap year

Have to work an extra day

To make it worse, it's New Year's Eve,

At least that's months away apologies for the double entry, couldn't pass it up

It takes a leap of faith

To cross the gorge of doubt

Or so the parson saith

To prove one is devout

I wish it weren't so quiet

I really, really do

For if I could hear a whisper

I may just talk to you

I wish to make a statement

That's short and bold and true

....: There will be an abatement

While I am on the loo sorrysorrysorry

While sitting in the smallest room

I think my largest thoughts

And sometimes I might fall asleep

Enthroned on chamberpots

The thing with toilet humour

Is it's easy to pooh-pooh

The top reasons- numbers one and two

You first must use the loo

There wasn't any questioning

Of the first suspect in queue

The second, third, and fourth went by

But now we'll question you

I wish I were in Dixie

In past subjunctive mood

Meetin' y'all and eatin' grits

And other Southern food

Sing Glory Hallelujah!

And praise the Lord as well!

Then buckle on your Bible belt

This ark's rocking like hell.

And take the road to Hell

Drat simulpost, ah well ...

I'm reeling from the budget

I don't know how I'll pay

I guess I'll have to fudge it

And clear my debts some day.

This most delightful weather Can you really tell that I'm English?

Surely cannot last [pen] how about me, then?

The only question's whether

The storm comes slow or fast

In Spring, a young man's fancies

Are the same as Summmer's and Fall's

The Susies and Jennies and Nancies

Will just kick him in the balls ... coat! ..

At weekends I like lazing

With tea and chocolate biccs

Just sitting in my armchair

In a bra and lacy knicks Least said, soonest mended

... mended. [Made me chuckle, mind]

Chalky - I'd love to take a holiday

To Margate I shall go

With thermal vest and woolly socks

And bucketloads of dough ... sorry - greedy greedy me taking another line

Returning to the office,

He found his desk had gone

"The second time this week!" he thought

"Just what is going on?"

He went to see the Bureau Chief

Demanding explanation

Insisting that he catch the thief

Or tend his resignation.

The Bureau Chief was unimpressed

And quickly sent him packing

The office cleaner then confessed

She'd sent the desk for stacking

The cleaner hadn't realised

That desks were custom-built

Stacking, it could be surmised

Produced an ominous tilt

The Chief sought out this listing stack

And made a bold decision

Even though he knew his staff

Would meet it with derision

"We'll make a matching stack of chairs

Just there, beside the door

And when the workforce grows in size

They'll sit upon the floor."

*is almost afraid to add to the 6 stanzas above which appear to have auto[Raak]-completed with stark yet exquisite simplicity*
And as no-one else has waded in - shall we leave it as it is?

They'll all join hands and sing a song

Of how, in days gone by,

The desks were stacked, quite out of reach

And we'll all wonder why....

But suddenly the bottom desk

Slipped right out of line

The bureau chief was heard to shout,

"Stand back - that one is mine!"

And then, with a tremendous crash

(Preceded by a rumbling)

The pile of office fur-nit-ure

On his head came a-tumbling. - oops

The moral of our sorry tale

Will soon become quite clear

For stacking wobbly desks is fraught

With risk to one's career.

Thank God! The chief was only bruised

And bounced back with panache

He said "I'll sack the silly fool"

And sneered 'neath his moustache.

So what would be the cleaner's fate?

Would she just lose her rag?

No, this char is far too cool

And sneaks out for a fag.

But when she steps outside the door

The nasty boss is waiting

"How dare you stack those desks", he booms

With tone harsh and berating

The tangled heap of fallen desks

Lies just inside the door

The cleaner is defiant

She won't take it any more

"You can stick your desks," the cleaner cries

"Somewhere the sun don't shine"

"Like in the basement storage room"

"Where I must work from mine!" echoes of 'Office Space' here. I expect the next verse will be about TPS reports. Mmm-yeh.

The moral of our sorry tale

Is: sometimes rhymes persist

#stackgate was an #epicfail

I fear it won't be missed

I wish I had a cucumber

And fine sliced white bread too

I'd make the blandest sandwich

Then flush it down the loo.

I'm glad I'm using wholemeal bread

The white stuff's bland and sickly

This boring glow worm needs an end
Please someone do it QUICKLY!
Sorry RoseWare - 1 out of 10 on the interesting scale :)

Portmanteau words are all the rage

Where would brands be without them!

They're everywhere this day and age He started it, miss.

'Cos advertisers shout 'em

I must see my accountant!

The numbers make no sense!

They all appear to be in red

But for this fifty pence.

I wish I were a molecule

Something nice like AYTCH TOO OH

>b>Instead, I'm an electron

And my life is filled with woe.

The wily Questing Beast's afoot

So hide behind the sofa

And if it nears, just raise your boot

But not if it's a loafer.

God particles are hard to find

Without acceleration

But scientists of true heart and mind

Might use exaggeration

I wish I was a Boson-Higgs

E'er since I were a lass

I've always wanted much more weight

To look like like Mama Cass.

[J, P. S, R] I laughed out loud.
I'm glad I'm not a molecule

With too much dipole moment

I'm methane, constituent of farts Glad I'm not the only chemical anorak here.

That's the odorous component

I wish I were a microwave

From space at 3°

I'd get inside your woolly socks

And mutilate your knees

The gamma Higgs neutrinalo

Is mighty hard to find

It makes quick rounds, like a gigalo

And leaves no trace behind

I wish that I spoke physicist

I'm sure it's quite a lark

With acronyms and symbols

Based on the lighter quark*

*Forced ("Flavourful mesons are mesons made of pair of quark and antiquarks of different flavours. The rules are simpler in this case: the main symbol depends on the heavier quark, the superscript depends on the charge, and the subscript (if any) depends on the lighter quark.")

I've got bells that jingle jangle

On my one-horse sleigh Are we in the run-up to Christmas already?

They really get upon my tits

And think of the poor dray.

I wish that I was sozzled

Completely out my tree

Because I cannot bear to face

Enforced sobriety

I wish I weren't so flatulent

I'd have a lot more friends

'Cos my windy smelly ways

Some clearly are not even worth a mercy killing

I wish I could run really fast

Just like that West Indian sprinter

I'd always be first, not last

But my wooden leg would splinter

I wish I could swim really well

Through Heinz Tomato Soup

An Olympian vision of Hell

Backstrokes through crimson goop

Well, now the games are over

And life resumes its course

Get ready for the football

And prepare for a divorce.

I'm sleeping less than well [S,R,K,R] Very nice! Reminds me to be thankful Mrs Tuj and I share a sports addiction

I toss and turn all night Shut up at the back.

I need no waking bell

But then I'm less than bright

If I screw up my eyes and dangling preposition alert

Put on some glasses

This looks like a haiku. Sorry, but I just can't get the previous lines to scan as anything.

Created by asses.

[cfm] Superb last-minute addition. Have a crisp! In fact, have several.

The road outside is melting

To a treacly noisy goo

And now the rain is pelting [cdm] Well saved!

Right, God, I'm going to sue

The weather's not improving

It's staying much the same

There's not much else to talk about

Let's get back to the game.

I wish I were the Lord your God

And not have horns or tail

I'd give you all a healthy prod

To make you weep and wail.

I'm more inclined to devilment

Than angels on my shoulder

Hell's perfect for a barbeque

You'll be there when you're older.

I wonder if the ketchup's hot?

And if the chili's cold [SciR] Excellent.

And are the dogs room temperature

And free of worms and mould.

I wish I were a pearly king

And you a pearly queen

The world would be our oyster then

We're dressed in Crimplene

I wish I had a ticket

To Cleopatra's wedding

The guest list is to die for

The bride, though, is for bedding.

I wish someone had told me

To add some baking powder

My tater-cakes are flat and wet
I'm left with onion chowder sorry sorry sorry - but it's culinarily feasible.

I dropped my iPhone in the pond

It's crossed to cell phone Valhalla beyond

This sounds like a limerick
But we really should stick
To the Haiku of which we're all fond

let's restart:
I dropped my iPhone in the pond

To test the maker's claim

I urge you to do likewise

But I won't take any blame

I wish I had asked Siri

How to marinate pig's feet

To feed to my dear mother

And get her back in heat

The last three lines of this poem

(No, make that the last two)

Extoll both xylem and phloem

(In fact, one line will do)
Apologies for the double post

That last rhyme can't be beaten Oh... *swoons with being so impressed at the last one*

For such exotic flair

It's Heston to my Mrs Beeton

Such verbal skill is rare.

I wish I were a lady

Feminine and coy

Hidden text

having an identity crisis, Phil?

Cuz lovely, lacy underthings

I can't wear as a boy. Hmm...

Be bold, tear up convention!

Ride roughshod thru' the rules

just throw caution to the wind

And bomb all public schools.

I wish I could be sexy

Without cosmetic ops

The fakes are never quite as good

Beneath those see-through tops

I wear my teddy with aplomb

Other fruits just will not do.

Not greengage, damson, mume or plum

Oh! Too many plums tha' noo!

i wish my apricots were prunes

All wrinkly, black and blue

They get things moving, so they say

Excuse me, where's the loo?

I Wish it weren't so windy

Around my nether parts

A kilt's a rather draughty thing

And helps disperse my farts. oblig.

The Feast of St. Narcissus [Rosie] I set 'em up...

Is a very sombre time

Staring into mirrors

Believing you're divine

My god, but I am awesome

In every single way

But most of all, I'm humble

Whatever people say.

I went to see the doctor

About my indigestion

He said I really oughter

Ask the cook that question.

I went to see the dentist

My gums were red and sore

So he extracted all my teeth

It cost a grand and more.

According to my therapist

I have to face my fears

To banish all my demons

I must kill Wackford Squeers.

I went for acupuncture

Got stung for fifty pounds

The puncturist was quite a prick

And stabbed me out of bounds

I wish my back was better

At lifting kegs of beer

My whistle would be wetter

We'd all have more to cheer. A sad tale

I wish I were an urban fox

Tattered, torn and haggard

Running free through dales and fells

Is not my scene you've gathered

I wish I were redundant

(At least from my employment) We need you. :-)

And with my mighty severance pay We hope

Whole seconds of enjoyment

I so wish it weren't Christmas

Well, it ain't. Not yet.

Ignore it; it'll go away

And you'll stay out of debt

I wish that I were wealthy

I'd chuck the job and go

And shag the arse off Polly Toynbee

Because I love her so

I've just forked out for winter tyres

For soon I will be going

To places where the snow is deep

And the Glühwein will be flowing :o)

New week, new rhyme - or so they say

Whoever they may be

Calliope and all the rest

Are good at poetree

I wish it weren't so frosty

Hidden text

I don't really, I love it

My nose has fallen off

And as for other organs

I'm trying not to cough

I wonder if the Mayans

Had ever really thought

About those 'Best Before' dates

And ~~bollocks~~ nonsense of that sort.

The Mayans have predicted tempting fate

The world's about to end

And on the twentysecond

We'll all just spend, spend, spend. Well, why not?

It must be time for beer by now

Or mulled wine at the least

I've waited nearly half an hour

I am a thirsty beast.

Hurrah! The hols are almost here

And I've skived off already (I wish)

I've finished working for the year

And I'm reading Ferlinghetti

I wish I had spent Christmas Day

Working overtime for treble pay

Then with the money I'd defray

(Oops, I mistook this for a limerick.)

The cost of booze in Whitley Bay.

I have a wish for the coming year

It's really rather silly

That I should give up drinking beer

I'd rather lose my willy

I wish I were a Hobbit

With huge and hairy feet

Or p'raps Lorena Bobbit I've considered not playing that line, but I don't think that I should

With a penchant for sliced meat - Let's move swiftly on, while I cross my legs gingerly

I wish I were a cat's eye

penelopipad

I watch upon the road

For the erring motorist

Lest he by Death be mowed.

I wish I were a carrier bag

A proper one, not plastic

I'd bring home the bacon

Now isn't that fantastic?

I wish that Juliette Binoche

Was not mentioned in this ditty

Perhaps a nice recette brioche

Would make this verse more pretty?

The human epiglottis

(Like other epiglotts)

Tucked away behind the scene

To tie your voice in knots

I wish I were a haggis

That runs around the glen

I'd wait till Easter Monday

I'd be safe by then

I'd love to be a rocket

Leaving trails of sparks

Inside my lover's pocket

Lest the spouse do find the marks

I'd love to start a glow-worm

With these brand new jump leads

I'd write of things electric

And whate'er the rhyme scheme needs.

I wish I were a pussycat

With whiskers I would tickle

And flit around from home to home

My love being always fickle.

If I hadn't sent that letter

I would now be Mayor of Chard

If you want to do better

Don't let 'em mark your card

I wish my poems rhymed

Blank verse is so 'de trop*

And lyrics that I've mimed

Don't always scan I know

I wish I were a Brummie

Don't laugh. I really do.

My vowels aren't posh or plummy

But I'd do Shakespeare better'n you

[R, CdM, K, cfm] Splendid.
The windows all need cleaning

The kitchen floor's a mess

But such work's so demeaning

Go get your Mom, I guess

I love procrastinastion

I'll do some more tomorrow

But I'm gripped by vacillation

Have you time to borrow?

If I were an alarm clock

No doubt I'd be resented

But only by vague arty types
With lives unregimented .. had to be done

If I were a carpenter

I'd bang and thump and hammer

And sometimes acshly hit the nail

In the accepted manner

Pheer mai awsom3 h4cking skillz

Defy a wall; it crumbles

I'm not sure where this going

NOBODY expects the—

Oh, bugger.

I wish I were an organ pipe

A 32 foot beast

I'd tremble with the voice of God

My volume much increased

I wish I were a snowman

That's newly sprung in Spring

A pointy root veg for a nose

Another for my thing I believe it is customary to issue a request for an outer garment at this juncture.

I wish I were a mousetrap

With Edam I'd be primed [CdM]

Hidden text

Exactly the four words I decided not to post, as there's too much Philth in this world already ;-)

A little mouse of Amsterdam

His hunger so mistimed.

Hidden text

(Phil) No there isn't.

I'm glad I'm not a milkman

Out in't snow and dark Boreal usage scansion imperative claim.

Slipping on an icy path

Sod that for a lark

[K, R, S, C] Excellent!

Another job I wouldn't do

Is much involved with lobsters

I'd rather take a blood oath

And join a gang of mobsters.

The worst job that I ever had [Rosie?]

Turned both my elbows green

Collecting cat poo was my lot (Kim) I seem to have jumped the gun.

While dressed up like a queen

While working for Jayne Mansfield

I lost a lot of weight

Yanking all those lobsters oblig.

Out of her 'tailgate' What Rosie said

*chuckles*

I wish I were a golf club

Gripped firmly with a glove

I'd swing and swing the wrong way

And hit heads from above.

I'm glad I'm not an Easter Egg

With spring-like obsolescence

Consumed with avaricious haste

oenelope

I reek now of its essence. ie I'm covered in chocolate

enelope

I took a pee while I was doing that. Sorry.

NotJohn

An 'oenelope' is someone who runs off with the wine.

Us isobars are all quite close

We're cooking up a storm

We'll squeeze the air along at speed (Chalky) We pedants are horrified, m'dear.

But will not keep you warm.

I will tell a knock-knock joke

That's sure to split your sides

Knock! Knock! Who's there? Archie

Andrews. And laughter, it subsides.

Three blokes pop in their public house

Quendalon

(A rabbi, a priest and a Scot) That is how the joke goes, isn't it? No?

A fart by one makes t'next one sneeze

And the third shouts out "twot" moving swiftly on ...

Some people really try too hard .. last one was crap in every respect.

NotJohn

Ahem
- Some people really try too hard
- To show they are a wit

They dream up lines of poetry

That somehow don't quite fit

I think the last one needed to conclude in frenzied anticlimax, viz;

Three blokes pop in their public house
(A rabbi, priest and Scot)
Something funny happens then
But I've forgotten what.

[SM] Bravo!

A young man's fancy turns to love

Every seventh minute [Simons Mith] splendidly deft!

And in between he thinks of sex [SM] *applauds* [Rosie] I was thinking of young Archie Mides.

Cuz that's the best part, isn't it?

I wish I were a plectrum (cfm) You're too like edjumacated, innit. (CdM) I can never read your mind, you know.

I'd strum your heart-strings well

Until you fell in love with me

Or taught me how to spell

I'm glad I'm not a rocking horse

They're prone to constipation

But should they strain to make the grade

Then cyclic defaecation. (pen) How do you know?

[Rosie] I've heard that rocking horse shit is very rare. Ergo... they don't go.

I'm glad I'm not a Barbie doll

Inside a plastic box

Though I'd be free from creepy Ken (pen) Sorry, crap logic. Boo-boom.

Who pleasures into socks grabs coat and scarpers

If I were a Lego man Staying with the toy theme

Made up of block and bricks

I'd emigrate to Minecraft world

With crafting box and picks [Rosie] I didn't actually expect anyone to think of Archie Mides; I just thought it wasn't fair to post a knock-knock without some follow-up in mind.

Ben 10 seems quite a cunning chap

With magic watch on wrist
It helps him change his shape at will
But sometimes things get missed. .. no takers for a week. Time to bale.

Have to admit I don't know a lot about Ben 10, apart from the fact that he was on my small nephew's pyjamas a couple of years ago.
Our planning seems in uproar

You can't put that thing there!

It's really not in keeping [Ben 10 - 'an anime character called Ben' was the limit of my knowledge about 'im]

And is messing up my hair. [pen, SM] No problem .. I had to google 'creepy Ken' ^^^ up there.

My mother is a weirdo

My father watches birds

My brother's got a little box

In which he keeps turds Coat!

That's not the Box of Delights!

Sorry, I limericked. Unless someone can find a way to fix it up. The Whoops button would let me change it, but not remove it, so I'm a bit stuck now.

Just start a new one.

I wish that button turned back time

And held the moving finger back (metre variation alert)

I might think of a better rhyme

Or go off on a different tack

I wish I were a mummy

Encased in tiles of jade

On legs and head and tummy

Golden Palace Casino

Our sponsorship displayed

I wish it would stop raining

It will, but not just yet

I've mastered aquaplaning

Bifurcating with But wetsuits make me sweat/But sweatsuits make me wet

I wish I had a potting shed

Where I could grow my pot

With grow-lights shining all day long

I'd be stoned as like as not

I wish I had a clematis Chelsea week, innit?

Perhaps a Russian vine

Both of them get out of hand

And bring your dashed fence "dine." Literally true in my case. (pen) No, it was last week we won the Europa Cup:-)

I've overdosed on Hollyhocks

My nose runs like a tap

I have what look like chicken pox

I hope it's not the clap. No way to not do that.

The larkspur is a wondrous sight

The perfume quite sublime

I've doused it all with gasoline

So I can end this rhyme.

I grew a little pear tree

Its fruit was firm and plump

I swapped it for a milk cow

And made a callithump Callithump. n. a noisy boisterous parade.

I wish I were a corkscrew

But with a left-hand twist

I'd bugger up your fingers

And stop you getting pissed oblig.

[pen] I had "And dislocate your wrist" in mind, but prefer yours.

I wish I were left-handed

For then all would be right

Unles you are a little gauche

But gaucher, that's a blight. No it isn't - Je suis left-handed.

If I were ambidextrous

With hammer, saw and chisel

I'd do my work in half the time

Then tell the boss to swivel

I wish I were a swizzle stick

Warm and cozy in some joe

This is really nonsense

So to the bin must go.

I wish I were a drummer

But not like Ringo Starr

More like those chaps from "Kodo"

They're betterer by far.

Nonsense? Why?
http://www.pier1.com/Scroll-Swizzle-Sticks/2691834,default,pd.html?utm_source=Google&utm_medium=PLA&utm_campaign=google_pla&utm_content=2691834&s_cid=pla0000001&kpid=2691834

http://www.snopes.com/language/eponyms/cupofjoe.asp

I wish I had some second sight

Such wisdom I'd display

I'd not need glasses all my life

.. stepping in before game loses all momentum ..
And double my cachet.

When I was but a little lad

And thought that girls were soppy

I'd go and do those boisterous things

While being rather stroppy.

But after I had adolesced

I took things much more seriously

I opened books and aced the tests

And chased the girls ingeniously.

Advancing age has done me well

My knees are holding up

I've still got hair, but time will tell

That my heart needs a tuneup.

I wish I had a bus pass

I'd travel all day long

'Tho I'd have nowhere to go

I'd sing this happy song:

< mode=song >
The sun shines on the dickie birds

The sun shines on the ants

The sun shines on my privates

'Cos I'm not wearing any pants.

[Raak]

Hidden text

I had a horrible feeling someone might miss the opportunity. Phew!

*laughs out loud - like, really LOUD*

I wish it were tomorrow night [Phil] If you were worried, how do you think I felt? I chose my line with that fourth line in mind, but I wasn't holding my breath.

Today seems just so dull [CdM] Well done, sir!

But then, I may not make it

Through one more day in Hull. [CdM,Phil] Your humble servant.

I've always liked the circus

Where threadbare lions roar [Raak] And another excellent last line. Would it be tempting fate to say you're on a roll?

From reverie they jerk us (Shuddup at the back over there in the US).

As through our limbs they gnaw

I wish I were upon the beach

Atop a sandy dune

A glass of beer within my reach

And you, my dear, to spoon

If I had a lot of time [S, C, R, p] Aww.

This coyness, lady, were no crime
But hark! Time's chariot hurries near
So let's get on with it, my dear. Sorry, couldn't resist.

If all the seas were suncream

The fish would squirm and splutter

And if the Alps were made of toast

I'd spread them with snow butter

If you and I were ponies

We'd have a trick or two

We'd dance like Darcey Bussell

With fetlocks en tendu

If 2 and 2 made twenty-two

Two twos would make it too

And two ones too, when timesed by two

I don't give a sod, do you?

[SW] Actually I do. Spoilsport. And after your elegant finale to the last one ... :(

If I woke up with great big wings

I'd take a look at higher things it still fits with the rhyme scheme, AABB,

From somewhere in the stratosphere

For I am bold. What matters fear?

I wish I had an ice cold beer [Chalks] sorry, sorry, sorry

To slake my sun-baked thirst

A lovely glass of Budweiser [Now you're upsetting the real ale nuts. :-) Ice cold is how you serve American horse piss, because at 0° you can't taste how horrible it is.]

With CO₂ I'll burst. BURP! (SM) Why on earth do people do it?

If you served that ice-cold muck

I'd assume it was a joke

With such stuff I'll have no truck

I'll stick to rum and coke

Happy hour will soon be here

I'll therefore order double

So whiskey whiskey beer beer

And tons of Dubble Bubble

oops

Hidden text

oops forgot this

I'm glad I'm not a snowflake

For if I was I'd melt

For all of my uniqueness

Could no longer be felt.

I'd rather be inside than out

And up instead of down

The Burj Khalifa's just the place

To enjoy a meaningless poem that doesn't scan, rhyme, or make any sense.

ahem ..
I'd rather be inside than out
And up instead of down
The Burf Khalifa's just the place
A jewel in Dubai's crown

[Chalky] Well done!

My birthday is over quite soon

Hidden text

2 minutes, I believe

And I am still quite sober

I'm in the center of the room

Hidden text

What was the deal with that last line, Botherer? Chalkly completed that poem quite well! Are you bitter?

Alone until October
Now this one really IS a hotchpotch of dodgy scansion, rhyme & sense :) [Raak & Kagome] Ta

Hidden text

KS my apologies, I misread the scansion of your first line as a limerick! It does work as one, if you try hard enough... and I'm often told I'm very trying!

If Botherer had half a brain

The other half being mine

With Chalky's looks, and Néa's books

We'd have a real good time

The child of such a union

Stands very little chance

Of Anglican Communion

Or learning how to dance.

I wish I were a tube train

In tunnels I'd find joy

I lost her there a week ago

Amongst the hoi polloi.

Hidden text

"the hoi polloi" is one of those constructions I normally try to avoid, like "PIN Number" and "ATM machine", as "hoi" means "the", but I'll claim poetic licence on this occasion

(Phil) What about "foot pedal" and "safe haven"? :-)

[Rosie] "foot pedal" is ghastly, "safe haven" I don't have such a problem with, as the "refuge" sense appears to be only 800 years old, much younger than the original meaning of "harbour". Distantly related to the Welsh "Aber-", I wonder, even though we both know that means "estuary"?

I'm glad I'm not an omnibus

A-stopping and a-starting (Phil) "Aber" also means "confluence", of which there are many examples. Confirmed by Y Geiriadur Mawr, "The Big Dictionary".

Cruising in polluted fug

With exhaust fumes a-farting.

Were I an oxymoron [Softers, Rosie] I'm wondering whether there is a game to be had out of your discussion.

I'd be so bittersweet [Kim] are you mixing me up with Softers?

With logical emotion

I'd be blatantly discreet. (Phil) I reckon so. (Kim) I don't think it would run very long but could be worth a try.

I'd love to mix a metaphor

In my electric blender

A sumptuous verbal cocktail that

Is the Colemanballs agenda.

C, R, K, R - very splendid. Rhyming, scanning and funning.
A cocktail of artistic styles Don't panic - this can scan & rhyme A, A, B, B

Cubist, batik and tiles If you say so, Miss. *quakes*

Will create illusion

And confusion. Um.

I'm stealing all the openings

And me the scond lines (Softers, Raak) That's quite clerihewish. Shall we have a Clerihew game?

I'll half-inch one 'e' in five

And I'll just issue fines.

I've knocked pen off her perch

And now await her wrath

I'll meet it by yon silver birch - [Rosie] Clearly you're asking the wrong people - I say yes let's!

In ashes and sackcloth

I wish I spoke Hungarian

Bolivian or Urdu

Instead of Rastafarian

Here in Eglwyswrw

Can you confirm it's Thursday?

I've suddenly lost faith

I'll let you know tomorrow

If it comes back as a wraith .. somewhat limited opportunities for a noteworthy Line 4. Sorry.

My thister wath a lithper

They thay that I wath too

Tho I thpeak in a whithper (Chalky) Ahem, thithter.

My thithter thouts through her thoe

Oh FFTh! Thcanthion ruined again :(

*sigh*
Let's try again ..

I find it hard to woll my r's

- My hips are much too stiff

So maybe my new implants

Will make me sound like Cliff Wichard

[Pen] "Move", surely?

With lips as big as Jagger's

And hips like Elvis P

The hands of Paganini

What a sexy freak I'd be!

Autumn leaves are turning brown

Bikini prices coming down

Winter woollies trending up

Then the sodding FA Cup.

I hope I'll rhyme ABAB

Like 'glow-worms' mostly do

I'm not a freakish rhyme, you see

My name's penelope.

A house divided cannot stand

If walls are made of paper

And living in a house of glass

Is not my kind of caper. I seem to have cocked up the last one rather gormlessly.

I'm glad that I'm not Rosie Indeed - I'm amazed you got away with it, frankly :-)

For he's got a girly name [Rosie, Phil] Assumed it was an example of postmodernistic irony ..

His real one? Don't be nosey

That'd spoil his claim to fame

I wish the House of Tudor

Were not so full of beams

Its workmanship is cruder

It comes loose at the seams.

Thus fell the House of Usher

With all-pervading gloom

'Twas worse than Soviet Russia

But filmed - as was 'Khartoum' - which also fell.

[Chalky] I always thought they should make an animated version.

I'm glad I'm not Vince Cable

I really really am

It's sad that he's not able