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Pea and Honey Recipes
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I Eat My Peas With Honey
And tales of derring-do.
Four lines, they can be rhyming
(That's Glow Worms to me and you).
Ending line is as usual.
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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
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 textIt 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
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
I'll not do things by halves
This trend for shortening player's names
Deserves a special mensh
It makes me an Egyptian god
But I am still a wench.
I feel like I'm a little Greek
Mine suits my occupation
This looks much more malible
But I'm just a negation
Run down and slightly suspect
And suffering with acid
I'm not in my element
And not much good when flassid
I wish I were in Lapland
With Santa and his reindeer
I'd take a curing water bath SO looking forward to the rhyme match on the last line ...
To get rid of this pain, dear
It seems quite elemental
To measure stuff by hand
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 textRevenge, 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
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
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.
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
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.
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 textAll 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
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
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
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.
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
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 texthaving 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 textI 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
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 textExactly 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
I reek now of its essence. ie I'm covered in chocolate
I took a pee while I was doing that. Sorry.
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
(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.
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
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 textI 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
Hidden textoops 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 text2 minutes, I believe
And I am still quite sober
I'm in the center of the room
Hidden textWhat 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 textKS 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
To plug the cashflow dam
I wish I had an air balloon
I'd fly above your house
Sing love songs like a right buffoon
Until you are my spouse
I hate the thought of housework
It makes me quake with fear
Thank goodness for my Dyson®
And my maid from South Korea. Guffawed at the balloon one - cheers Pen/Phil
I have a pip stuck in my teeth I giggled at the housework one. I'm 50% there.
(That's too much information)
I think it's time for flossing
And a quick expectoration
I wish I were a garden rake Shut up at the back.
A snag-toothed tidier-upper
I'd lie hidden in the grass
A slapstick tripper-upper.
I wish I had a pint of beer
Just like Nigel Farage
I'd drink it down most publicly
There's nowt to disparage Can we stop trying to rhyme things with 'Farage'? It limits the potential of t'rhymes. Ta v much.
When motorists are naughty
I give them one quick toot
And shout "You're doing forty" (pen) I wasn't. First appearance of Mr UKIP in this game.
On the motorway to boot
I wish I were on holiday
Boating on the Kennett
Just sitting back and reading prose
Or scripts from Alan Bennett
If only I were twenty [Rosie] Pen may have been thinking of Mr. Farage's recent appearance in one of the limerick games.
And callow in my ways
I'd dream of lands of plenty
And my many different lays coat!
If I were only forty
I'd be half what I am now
Though not in age, let it be said
I'm just fat - and how!
If I should stumble over
And need help getting up
To hire a crane is rather rude
But sorry - needs must - yup! ... notably few rhymes for 'up'
My waistline is expanding
Oh, what a brave admission
My feet are slow shrinking
With every inch addition
The time has come for action
A fitness plan perhaps
Holds less of an attraction
Than deep-fried bacon baps
I have no time for deadlines
I've better things to do
Like read a book or solve some crimes
Or pop off to the loo
[SM] I genuinely spent over five minutes manfully resisting "loo" and "poo". Congratulations on giving in to your inner schoolboy :-)
I wish I were a toilet roll (Phil) Same here, largely because I thought I'd give you a go. Imagine my disappointment, though SM has valiantly maintained the tradition.
The hard kind, not the soft Oh-er, memories of school
Sitting unused is the goal
So stash it in the loft.
The phoenix' cry is rarely heard Let's try and raise the tone a bit.
A song so cold and bleak
For it is an ornery bird
And someone glued its beak. There's classy ...
I took a class in classic art
I now know Bosch from Dürer
But the paintings in my pantry
Are somewhat more obscurer
Pre-Raphaelite is more my thing
It's simply more expressive
Dante and his art-for-art
And ladies part-undressive
The cubists' art is thus defined:
Abstract with no perspective
Which makes it look less like the real
And more like the subjective.
All art is tosh, I would opine
Except for this piece by Divine
.. are we venturing into limerickese?
[Chalky] My line can swing either way
Raphael, portraying Madonna
With very few garments upon 'er. Sorry, I don't usually double-post, but it seemed right. Also, if you substitute "I'd" for "I would" in the first line, it scans quite nicely.
I wish I were a grease gun
Hidden textBang, bang; you're slippery.
To you nipple I'd be put
I'd keep your bearings running free
With mayhem underfoot
The joy of lubrication
Is lost on all my friends
They much prefer fixation
Of all their bits and ends.
The benefits of friction
Should not be understated
Since rubbing up the wrong way
Can make me quite elated
He recommended traction [Phil] hehe
And an orthopaedic brace [R, p, P] I was thinking about "The use of prophylactics/ being highly over-rated", but didn't want to triple-post.
I had the satisfaction
Next week they hear my case
I came across this thoughtful item and decided to share it with you. It's a lyric from a song by Dory Previn.>
We never stop to wonder
Until a person's gone
We never yearn to know him
Until he's travelled on
[Software] Splendid 4th line. I was expecting something like "Of pummelling his face", but yours was much better :-)
The art of writing lyrics
When all is said and done
Depends upon the music
And the 'Dum-de-dum-de-dum' I think I've got the metre right, even if it's not a perfect rhyme...
[pen] Do you know the Monty Python sketch about Denis Moore? It's apposite.
I'm very fond of lupins
And shrubberies are nice
But best of all are cacti
Distilled and served with ice
My brother is a tailor he's actually a programmer. worked on the 'Halo' game franchise.
He sewed my new blue jeans 'Sun-up Alterations, Zips Mended While-U-Wait'>
My father was a gambling man
Way down in Whitmore Reans
My papa was a preacher man
And so was Billy Ray's
When he stole kisses from me
I was young - it was a phase.
I close my eyes and count
To ten - that was the plan
Alas I fell asleep at six
Finish for me if you can
I wish I were an aardvark
First in the alphabet
Alas I am a zebra
But ahead of the zzxjoanw yet.
Qaanaaq is in Greenland
Its night life must be seen
This requires a microscope
So you must be very keen
I wish I were a chimney sweep
I'd sing 'Chim-chim-chereeee!'
I'd talk in mangled Cockney
And shout "'ello Mary!"
I wish I could be thinner
Say, butyl acetate
Or maybe min'ral spirits
Your shine off I would take
Merry Christmas Everybody!
Good cheer to one and all!
While there's still some hot toddy
Let's drink it 'til we fall!
It's Boxing Day in Canada
They're fighting in the streets
And if a hockey match breaks out
The day will be complete(s)!
I had a little nut tree
I often used to beat it
But it never bore a single nut
I think that I've been cheated.
I wish I were a rain-gauge
Overflowing in a storm
So full I can't contain myself
As I'm not cribriform
I have a little puppy
It loves to play with me
It's scoffed my little guppy
And quaffed my Earl Grey tea.
The Yanks are playing "Super Bowls"
They sometimes touch the ball
They've so much armor (sic) plating
They don't feel pain at all
I wish I were a scaffolder
That leapt from pole to pole
Shunning 'elf'n'safety
But never on the dole.
I wish I were a glazier
'Cos I like playing with putty
Hidden textI'd also buy a football club, if you can call 'em that.
I'd build a pyramid out of glass
Hidden textRosie, they're called *teams.* I do at least know that much about hand egg, er I mean American Football.
Then stop for tea and butty
I wish I were a pot-hole
I'd bugger your suspension
As you splash every passer-by
Increasing local tension
They wish we had more tea cakes
They wish we had more tea
They wish we had facilities
So they could have a wee I bet there's a Japanese word for 'being disappointed with a cafe'`
They wish we opened later
To satisfy their needs
Alas, we cannot cater
To their incessant greeds. Sorry, cafe's closed for lunch.
I wish I were a bookie
I'd gather all your cash
And pay for lots of nookie
Rum, sodomy and lash
I wish I were a seaman
'Cos I can go "Ha - harrrr!"
A salt-encrusted demon
Emerging from the haar
I wish I were an athlete
I'd run or jump or throw
Unless I was in Sotchi
With two toilets in a row
I wish, when I was younger,
I'd done as I was told
Avoided all the sex and drugs
N'eer straying from the fold
I wish that I had listened
To my teachers when they said
The name with which you're christened
You'll be called when you're dead.
Which reminds me of the rhyme:
They told me, Heraclitus, they told me you were dead
I never knew your proper name was Heraclitus, Fred.
When I am gone and changed my name [P, K, R, R and R - marvellous. More please.]
I hope I'll be remembered
For all the thing's I haven't done
Not the bodies I've dismembered apols
While I'm alive and kicking
And working as a plumber (pen) Can't stop giggling.
With call-out rates extortionate
And clients ever-dumber
I'll quote three times the going rate
I'll drink my weight in tea
I'll say your loo is dodgy, mate
I'll flash my arse for free.
Today we need to dig a hole
Then fill it in again
At least it keeps us off the dole
And considered working men.
I wish I were a bobsleigh
Taking bends at speed
Tipping out my passengers
I'm spiteful, yes indeed
Thank you for your custom
It says here on the bill
We'd like to know of problems
And hope you won't be ill.
I wish I were a writer
I'd write all sorts of things
Some of which are shiter I axshully am a writer for money
Than Tolkein's lordly rings.
I wish I were a zombie
Arising from the grave
In a dust-strewn woollen Crombie
I nicked from Chas and Dave.
I wish I were an angler
Slowly drowning worms
With my stick and dangler
My patience this affirms. (pen, Chalky, penpenult. Splendid.)
I wish I were a stevedore
Working on the docks
"Accidentally" damaging
Containers' “thief-proof” locks.
If I were not a petty thief Sorry - that's the third one in a row now.
A politician I would be
"Blame immigrants" my leitmotif
Who should be kicked back o'er the sea.
If I could be who e'er I chose  Four now ☺
I'd be the King of Wales
And wear tights all colored rose
While guzzling Trappist Ales.
I wish I were a criminal
That heaved a bag marked "SWAG"
Eschewing texts subliminal
And shackled with a tag
I wish I were a hobbit
With hairy size-12 feet
Instead I'm like John Bobbitt
An earthling incomplete
I'm glad I am a Briton
For a Brit it's best to be
But only a few can fit on
A pin head comf'tably
I crave a piece of chocolate cake
Filled with gooey cream
For wholesome fats and carbs I ache
I'm rather broad of beam oblig.
My waistline is expanding
It surely can't be age
That makes the act of standing
Lead to impotent rage
I wish I were a tea-cup
The finest Wedgwood kind
From which the gentry might sup
A potion most refined. Not Co-op teags, then.
A biscuit fit for dipping I avoided using 'dunking'. You can thank me later
Is flavourful and firm
But cover it with dripping
See hardened dunkers squirm *later* Thank you pen :)
If I were a cartoonist
With loaded, painty brush
I'd paint a young balloonist
In youth's initial flush
And if I'd been born Rembrandt
I'd not be posting here
No self-respecting self-portraitist
would expose himself I fear swiftly moving on ...
This talk of Old Dutch Masters
Has bored me quite to tears
But Romanesque pilasters was trying to make a line about Amsterdam S&M bars, but couldn't quite get the rhyme to work
Stunned even Wackford Squeers
If you refer to Dickens
Which I'm sure you often do
Then please, don't cite “Darles Chickens”
Lest Spooner, he might sue.
Bravo!
If I were made of rubber
I'd drink like fat Bibendum
And yet still ask for more
Oh, would that I were smart
Enough to pass a Mensa test
I'd need not work at labouring
I'd be smarter than the rest.
There's nothing in my pension pot
Apart from dreams and dust
My salary ?   I spent the lot !
Now I'm homeless, old and bust
When you've got money, spend it all!
For saving's just for fools
So live your life, and have a ball
Hidden text[p. me, N, S] I liked the last one a lot.
Be flagrant with the rules! [Phil] me too.
Poor I was born, and poor I'll die
But in the years between
My riches, they will hit the sky
-- Until my kid's a teen.
A rainy Thursday morning
Dull and wet and cool
Is ideal for a bike ride
By a lycra-bedecked fool.
So what's the point of planning
When the weather lets you down
I planned to lie there tanning
But I'm soaking wet, not brown.
A frabjous day is dawning
So sing "Callooh! Callay!"
And heed no empty warning
Too sunny for making hay.
I'm seeking new employment
I don't care what I do
My main aim is enjoyment
And a fag-break in the loo.
Bank Holidays are all too few
And all too soon are over
I waste it lazing - oh, don't you?
Or rolling in the clover
I wish I were a saucepan trad.
With a tightly-fitting lid
My contents all a-boiling
Though from view it's hid
I wish I had a pony tail
'Cos frankly I'm an ugly sod
Hidden text(Phil) Oi! But for half the width of a road I'm in Croydon.
Who loves a good updo
The stain is there for all to see
Its cause not hard to guess
I've scrubbed until my hands are raw
With a cold compress.
[KS] You were a syllabubble short, m'dear. No matter.
'Get out, damn spot! Get out!' I cry
So much for dry cleaning (pen) The line can be stretched, just about, and it doesn't offend me. If it doesn't offende me it won't offend anybody, will it?
I'll soak it in ammonia
Then stand there, pants down, queening.
With copper, mangle, Reckitt's Blue
Wash day is a breeze
Hang them out, come rain or shine
'Tho it crucifies my knees
Blacking grates and mangling sheets
The joys below the stairs
The parquet's scarred by hobnail cleats
But no-one down here cares. Insurrection from the staff...
Rise e'er the dawn, to clean the hearths
That's Cinderella's fate
Then light the fires, and run the baths
And don't stay out too late.
The clocks are chiming midnight
But the sun shines overhead
The birds are sleeping in their trees
For now's the day we wed!
I wish I were a Jabberwock
A flame-eyed whiffling thing
But I am just a jubjub bird
And so, on that, I'll sing.
But if I were a bandersnatch
To spot me you'd be quick
For much like Mr Cumberbatch
I'm really rather slick
It fails to pass this simple test
It's neither flesh nor fowl
So now we feel it's prob'ly best
To euthanise your owl
I wish I were a dodgy spiv
With fag from mouth a-dangling
I wouldn't have a damn to give
My coat with coins a-jangling.
The teams are gathering in Brazil
To kick a ball around
Will our team really have the will?
I might just bet a pound.
I root against the English team
Their chances I don't fancy much
I think they may run out of steam
And so I'll bet upon the Dutch.
[S,p,Ro,Ra] Very nice. It was only on the 3rd reading that I realised you were probably referring to football, as I was thinking about cricket. It still works though.
So far Brazil has all the goals
Said some deluded fool
Defensively they're full of holes
Like bras in Samba Schools - e.g. this (NVSFW)
I wish I were the scoresheet
I'd tally up your points
You're very fine statistically
Top marks for double joints
I wish I had my mother's eyes
I'd keep them in this jar (had to go that way really...)
Their glassy stare reminding me
How she'd beat up poor pa-pa
I wish I had my brother's knees
For mine are old and dodgy
His look really good in tights
While I wear trews quite stodgy.
I used to have my uncle's teeth
Displayed upon the wall
I little plaque sat underneath
Which said, in letters small ... (to be continued)
"These teeth were once the pride and joy
Of my dear old Uncle Rolf
Alas, he doesn't need them now
He lost them playing golf."
That reminds me of a favourite Knock-Knock joke:
"knock knock"
Who's there?
"Adolf"
Adolf who?
"Adolf ball mhitmph me in mthme mmouthm"
I wish I were a hacksaw I'd like to hear you say that, pen.
To cut these prison bars
I'd really be a dashing blade
Just like those scimitars

I eat my peas with Hollandaise
Even when the dish is pork
I've done so all my lifelong days
It keeps them on the fork.

[Declaring a "peas" cascade]
I eat my peas with mustard
Washed down with lemonade Declaring an 'Unusual Eating Implements Parallel Cascade' too.
I tried them once with custard
They still fell off the spade. Will that do, pen?
[Rosie] What a slendid birthday present. You delivered in spades, ta v much!
I eat my peas with Marmite
Which Ma might say is messy
But oh :  the umami's so right
But still I look a jessie
I eat my peas with relish
It's fluorescent yellow
The egg-spoon that I eat them with
I stole from some poor fellow.
I like my peas reet mushy
For I'm a northern lad
To those wha claim it's grim oop here (apologies for clunky accent)
Ah'll tell 'ee, tha's bin had!
They're holding pea stalks as we speak
We're hoping there won't be a leek
Of a limerick style
Because in a while
Someone will give us a tweak
I wish I had the muscle
To lift this pile of bricks
But sadly I'm a wimpy man
With arms and legs like sticks
I wish I were a spaceman
I'd float around all day
Until my tank of oxygen
Had leaked my air away.
I wish I were eighteen again
But knew all I now know
I'd find it hard to fall in love
Then marriage wouldn't flow
I wish I were a Jabberwock
With eyes aflame and such
I'd wish you all a frabjous day
And other double Dutch
If I could find a beaten sword
Then I would be a winner;
A plowshare would be my reward
And I could sow me dinner
I wish I were in marketing
In charge of famous brands
I'd trash their corporate image
With my small, dirty hands!
I wish I were a maestro
A crappy Rover car
Though I might get called a tin can
I wouldn't take you far mercy killing.
I wish my legs were stronger
Than those of Usain Bolt
His speed makes him much wonga
I'm poor - my short legs' fault.
Now, Scottish independence *stands back*
Wis thocht up doon the pub
W'all agreed tha' snooty Dave
Should nae be in oor club.
I wish I spoke Italian
I'd chat up all the birds
I'd be a right rapscallion
'Cos ladies don't like nerds
I wish I spoke Swahili
It sounds so unlike Dutch
Yet Swahili's word for "penguin"
Don't change very much
My shoes are nice and shiny
Just like my nose, alas
My hair sticks up quite spiny Curious that shoe polish shines shoes, but dulls noses.
And the sun shines out my as...
...pidistra in the parlour
Victoriana chic
'Tis worthy of La Scala
I know whereof I speak
Software - I wish I'd been I K Brunel
Beneath my stovepipe hat
'Midst belching chimneys I would dwell
But in a mansion, not a flat.
I wish I were an oak tree
Upon the village green
Bolts of lightning do their worst
To this bucolic scene.
I wish I played the mandolin
Just like Captain Corelli
And kept a tame-ish pangolin
As seen on the telly
The poetry of Robbie Burns
Was newly sprung in June
It shone and stank a bit, in turns
Just like the changing moon.
The plays of William Shakespeare
Go on for far too long
But for luvvies in the green room
More time to play ping-pong!
If I could play the tenor sax
The girls would coo and swoon
But I am just a drummer
And so they boo and moon!
If I were in a pantomime
I'd be a panto horse
The head and front legs would be fine
The rear's more fun, of course.
If I were not upon the stage Was it just our local panto that had a big song and dance about this?
A prompter I would be
But only for a living wage
I'll not shout lines for free!
If I lived in the desert
I'd change my name to 'Sandy'
My visage may seem weathered
But I make the camels randy!
To welcome in the Noo Year
I have not said a word
I've been in here for 5 days now
And nothing has occurred...
If I were just a dicky-bird (Phil) Fie to your orthography, sir!
You wouldn't get a peep
I'd tuck my head beneath my wing
And feign to be asleep
I glide above on silent wings
And spy my prey below
Juicy little worms and things
But I'd prefer merlot
So did you keep the cellar locked?
The Thing's escaped again!
The residents are very shocked
They're all saying you're insane.
My clothes are mostly second-hand
But not my knickers and bra
I crocheted them myself from string
D'you think I've gone too far?
I wish I were a ball-cock
A regulating system
Preventing too much water
Do I have to? I thought I had made it easy. An imperfect rhyme, I know, but close enough...
From gettng in your cistern.
The best thing about choc'late
Apart from everything else
Is that it's made of chocolate
And melts at 40 Cels. Bit of a hard rhyme there. Welsh? Bells? Pulse?
The best that we can hope for
This Thursday afternoon
Is that by Thursday fortnight
We again escape our doom.
I wish I were a referee
To lay down right and wrong
To be abused from every side
But at Wembley get a gong
I wish for springtime sooner
Begone, frigiditee! No,not you, m'dear.
The days are getting longer
There'll be honey soon for tea.
I eat my peas with honey
It makes them taste quite odd
I like it hot and runny
When I spread it on my bod.
I wish I'd bought an iPad
When iPad's were the rage
But now they're quite old-fashioned
And only seem to age!
I wish I'd bought a bullet train
To speed me to and fro
Through the land of rising sun
Express to Tokyo
It is quite grand to contemplate
And think of what might be
Had I'd been born a royal
And used the royal 'we'.
I often use the O.E.D.
To check a definition
But the words I seek are never there
To my consternomition.
The Shorter Oxford Dictionary
Designed for use by dwarves
They play short games of Pictionary
Whilst hiding in their borves
Hidden textThanks for 'dwarves', Software :)
I wish I were a wharfman
For loading in stiletto heels
Clearly off her rocker ... mercy killing - now play nicely please
I've got some nitroglycerine
It makes a loud ka-boom
I keep it in my pantry
And await the Day of Doom
Ensure your cake will always rise
Use lots of baking powder
For taste it may not win the prize
But your farting will be louder Coat!
For best results a pizza stone
Should be heated well
And lightly sprayed with acetone
Before you run like hell
The oven-cleaning fairies
Appear to be on strike
The grease and crud that's there is
Something to dislike
I wish I were an apple core
My pips quite tight within
Growing ripe in Appledore
Before going in the bin
I wish I were a hacker
I'd clear away the wall
And chuck the lot into the skip
Let another take the ball - mercy killing
A mercy killer I would be
So if you're ill, watch out
I'd creep up with my pillow
And cure you of the gout
I wish I were a bookmark
Tucked in a paperback
I'd keep your place like a pro
If memory you lack. Bit awk. Play on chaps.
I wish that it was raining Not, obvs.
There's nowt like getting soaked
But it'll make the grass grow too
And test my mow'r (four-stroked).
It's pen's fault that it's pouring
She did a rain dance in her clogs
But sunshine gets so boring
And she's lovely rainproof togs.
[K, S, me and T] Lovely.
I tweet at lots of TV chefs *I have just had a tweet convo with Valentine Warner. Swoon.*
And they tweet back to me!!!!
They say "At last a gourmet"
let's have a cup of tea
I wish I were a s'lebrity
My face in every rag
Whoring my integrity
It's for money - that's my bag
I wish to see the manager
These shoes are far too tight
He said "Now look 'ere, Bigfoot"
"The cust'mers never right!"
I wish I had my money back
I've been taken for a ride
I've landed up at Fenny Compton
And a part of me just died
I wish I had a picture hook
Upon my picture rail
I'd hang a picture of my mum
... Ah, hell, I'll use a nail
This painted pair of portrait eyes
Watch you around the room
And crinkle up with mirth when you
Go tripping in the gloom Mersea. Next!
I'm glad I'm not a guinea-pig
Testing things bizarre
I don't much want a thingummyjig
Stuck up my chocolate star
Sorry, sorry, sorry!
I'm glad I'm not a plagiarist ...
Of someone else's verses
My own sweat, blood, toil, tears, and grist
Eliminates such curses
I'm glad I'm not a plagiarist ...
My work is all my own
It is not copying, but "homage"
The best stuff but on loan
I wish I were a lady
Then get out those hormone pills
Your new name could be Sadie
And you too could wear frills
I wish I were a gentleman
I'd tip my hat to ladies
I'd wink at all the suffragettes
Who'd curse me back to Hades
I wish I were transgender covering all bases
And could sit down to pee
But that takes balls and mine have gone
Irrevocabably
I've covered all the bases
Potash, lime, ammonia
My scientific nature
Has made my kidneys stonier
It's not the grotty weather
That makes me think of home
For I'm from sunny Timbuktu
And live in a glass dome!
I wish I had a hammer
And nails and four-by-two
A glue-pot, mitre box, and saw
I'd make a box for you
Now get inside this coffin
And I'll nail down the lid
And once you're six feet under
You'll remember what you did!
If I'd been landed gentry
You'd have to bow and scrape
And offer up your daughters
For legally sanctioned and I really don't feel like completing that line.
I deliberately didn't open that door. Moving on...
I've often wondered if it's true
That drinking caustic soda Once a chemist, . . . .
Quite odd consequences has
On one's body odour
I wish I were a postman
Misdirecting all your mail
Bending all your photographs
When letter boxes fail
I wish I were in orbit
Around the planet Saturn
I'd rearrange its many moons
PS Apols for the distasteful "landed gentry" 3rd line on 26/11. I thought someone would come up with a witty dodge of the obvious rhyme, but now it transpires that I can't think of one either!
Into a pleasing pattern. Will that do?
It will indeed, pen, but this new gravity thing everybody's on about will destroy your artwork in an astronomically short time, i.e. less than ten million years.
Hidden textIt is I, Rosie.
I wish I weren't so sleepy
So flatulent, so dull
I think it's down to Brussels sprouts
And long post-Christmas lull
I wish my resolution
Was not so hard to keep
An easier solution
Just give this year a Leap
I'm glad I'm not a dustbin (Chalky) V neat.
Filled with people's trash
The detritus of daily life
Is hard to swop for cash
I'm glad I'm not a hairbrush
Nor, indeed, a comb
'Cos half a ton of dandruff
Calls your head a home eeeuuuuwwww.
Oh take me to the Mardi Gras!
And watch me dance all night
I'll go without my ma and pa
I'd give 'em such a fright.
I used some CSS code
To execute a coup
But my HTMLability
Has put me in the soup
I used to be a sous-chef
That toiled in sweat and steam
Until I poisoned several guests
With scombroid-riddled bream
I wish I were a battery
Imagine all my uses! [Phil] Phwoar, that's a line
Like powering vibrators coat!
That stimulate the juices hat!
So as your paint is drying
You might just make a movie
With music by George Ezra
Appropriately groovy.
I wish I'd been a Beatle
Back in '64
Starring in A Hard Day's Night
As one of the Fab Four
I wish I were a Beetle
With engine at the back
Air cooled engine phut, phut, phut
A hazard on the racetrack.
I wish I were a beetle
A-rolling turds and dung
But rarely are my praises
In church or chapel sung.
I wish I were a pitchfork
With prongs that prod and probe
And perforate and penetrate
Your wellies and your robe I wish I hadn't had to do that
I once slipped on some bladderwrack
While skipping 'cross the rocks
I guess that that will teach me not
To go out crabbing without my socks
I'm glad I'm not a toothypeg
A-lurking in your gob
With a filling having mercury
And a radioactive throb.
I'm pleased I'm not the only one Maybe I am... is anyone else playing?
That roams these ghostly halls
'Cause if I were my lonely song
Would just bounce of the walls.
If I'd been born as Donald Trump
With bucket-loads of cash
I'd get my hair cut properly
So no-one thinks I'm trash
A cuddly little puppy
Is the master of disguise
He first enslaves the populace
With his cute puppy eyes

(to be continued)
His teeny tiny turdies
He drops so dainti-lee
'Till global domination
As he lifts his leg to pee
So - micro pig or microwave?
For sure, the bacon's tiny
But this cuisine's top mystery
Is why the chef's so whiny
I wish I were a spatula
Scraping out your bowl
Trying not to be too flatula
(it's a stretch, sorry)
And Not to be too foul.
I don't want a referendum
'cause I have to make a choice
Should we stay or should we go?
But don't vote for the loudest voice mercy killing
I've mixed up all my tea-bags!
Is this Sencha or Char Sue?
I'll have to take pot luck, it seems hur hur
With my next warming brue
My aerosol is full of foam!
So I took it to a party
I set it off, it was such fun!
Until the host got arsey
The back door to my wardrobe
Leads to somewhere pleasant
But none but me shall know just what
'S my secret way to the Crescent. Was that a hint that the time draws near?
I'm glad I'm not a snooker ball
A-cannon'd 'cross the baize
In a crumbling, shabby snooker hall
Long past the snooker craze.
I'd like to be a simple slug
That lives on lettuce leaves
And not an intellectual one
Cos I'm as thick as thieves
I wish I were an artist
In hip-hop, rap or grime
Like Snoop or Dizzee Rascal
On telly I would mime
I wish I had a stronger voice
Than Andrea Boceli
I wouldn't need a microphone
I'd just give it some welly.
I wish I were a brewer
I'd brew by intuition
And through my kilt - a bonny filter -
Make fuel for self-ignition
I wish I were a poet's muse
To help him from confusion
Inspiring people like Ted Hughes
Who couldn't rhyme for toffee
Mmmm....toffee.....
I wish that I'd known Sylvia Plath
And what it was that depressed her
So lead her down my primrose path
So maybe she would have felt much better
I wish I was a messenger
Telegram in hand
To warn of your investiture
As fairest in the land. [pen] Well rhymed.
I wish I were a lightning bolt [Raak] Ta. I had to 'do research'.
That lights the thunderhead
I'd strike you where it hurts the most
When in your marriage-bed!
One really should be careful
When taunting grizzly bears
Not to mention woodland
Where it leaves its wares
I'm glad I'm not a toothpick
A-poking tushypegs
Getting chewed and rather slimy
A-poking round for dregs That'll do.
I wish I were a lumberjack Shut up at the back.
That leapt from tree to tree
I'd hold my chopper in my hand Steady on ...
And wield it lustily
A lumberjack, or lumberjill
Which would I rather be?
I'm lucky to have got the choice
Fluid gender - that is me
I'm going on my holiday
I'd better tell my boss
The whole team's coming with me
'Cos they don't give a toss
I wish I were in Switzerland
Where I've stashed my loot
Instead I'm stuck in Lichtenstein
A tax haven too to boot
I'm just a gnome in Zurich
Amassing piles of gold
Hiding it most secretly
Until this rhyme gets old More than a week without a last line, folks. Time for it to go.
It'll all be held in secret
Grey suits in smoke-filled rooms
The guns are on the table
While they're eating magic 'shrooms Mercy killing, innit.
I wish I were an actor
A star of the West End
I'd call myself 'Evadne'
Who's paid for 'Let's pretend'.
What is it about recent third lines that caused a promising start to peter out?
My recipe for Christmas cake
Is mostly stout and gin
The Christmas pudding that I'll make
'll have none of the above in. hic!
Some doggerel for Friday
Is what we chiefly need
To help forget the current mess
Let good times be decreed! .
A frog is in my pocket
And out it wants to leap
I'm tempted just to lock it
Up tightly in The Keep
Neat
What I really want for Christmas
Would tell you quite a lot
About the piss-poor State of Things
That pertain in Camelot!
I wish I'd reached enlightenment
Before I bought that drink
Such clarity of thought has gone
That Nirvana's on the blink.
I wish I'd bought some fishing line
Because now I cannot cast
To catch these drones that spy on me
(I wish I hadn't asked.)
If I'd been born a reindeer
I'd fear all polar bears and covalent ones
But since I am a penguin
I know them bears ain't there
Dawn came up like thunder
Noon brought raging sun
The sky was rent asunder
By an angry Kim Jong Un.
I wish that I liked Christmas
But I'm a grouchy sod
Who waits til it's all over
Proclaiming "Oh, thank God"
I wish than I liked whisky *hypothetically obvs*
'Cos I've got twenty litres
I'm told it makes one frisky
But I like margaritas
I have no favourite cocktail
I'll drink just anything
Pass the paraffin, say I
To me it tastes like gin
Now Hogmanay is ending
The Haggis will get stale
So Burns' Night was invented
To use up cakes and ale
I wish I were a porcupine
Tho' I'd still be just as spiky
Cos unable to recline supine
Would lose you sleep, by crikey! You do it next time then!
The boy stood on the burning deck time for an old traditional
There was panic all around
The hairs were signed around his neck this one might run for a few verses
But still he stood his ground.
He shouted to the Captain,
My smartphone's up the spout
But the Captain didn't give a toss
He'd already gotten out.
I don't need much for dinner
A loaf of bread will do
And just a little caviar
You know, that fishy goo.
I wish I'd been a buccaneer
Sacking galleons and cities
An enterprising privateer
Saying "Ha-harrr" and whistling ditties.
The Budget sets our spending
Unless we're rolling in it innit?
It is sure to increase lending
By 14p a minute.
If I were riding on a train
That called at Clapham Junction
Onto the tracks below I'd drain
My bowels, without compunction. pretty much oblig.
[Knobbly] I suspect that you, me and Rosie were probably ad idem on that one. Not sure about pen.
I let out such a holler
That it woke th'Antipodes
I'd lost my final dollar
To arbitration fees
I wish I had a hobby horse
That I could ride around on;
One I had purchased second-hand
But it was bro-kon<
Hidden textYes, I know, a ridiculous stretch there
The Ancient Mariner went by
Waitrose on his way
To pick up twenty artichokes
And twenty bales of hay.
My ancient Marina still goes
Like an elephant in its last throes
If those aren't the first two lines of a limerick I'm a baobab tree
Oops.
Which is what happened and where it happened way back in 1973.
Rosie, you don't half set some tricky scansion.
(Bismarck) Well, it's clerihew, isn't it?
I wish I were a mariner
So I could stop a wedding guest
Hidden textIf that last one was simultaneously a limerick, a clerihew and a bad quatrain, we have reached unforeseen heights. Or depths.
From smashing up the porringer
And spilling gravy down his chest
I wish I were a gavy boat
*gravy
And not a gravy train
Then scruffy kids would sniff me
And not use me for gain.
I think I see the reason
Why I'm such a slob
Cos whate'er be the season
I never get a job
I'd love to be a Vandal
Smashing things for fun
Hidden text(Raak) Did you mean "I'd love to have been a Vandal"?
Hidden text[Rosie] Good Scansion gives +1 to Poetic License.
But I was born Attila
Just the day job for a Hun.
The movies that I have not seen
I also have not heard
And subtitles have never been
The last and final word
V. nice...!
I wish I were a photon
Going at the speed of light
My local time would never change
But relatives' just might
This rhyming lark is really great!
It's better than a parrot
Which is dead in any case
From overdose of claret Thanks for the parrot rhyme challenge, Simons, I was determined not to carrot it.
O for the wings of a dove!
To escape the malevolent hawk
So somebody give me a shove
And look away while I squawk.
pen, I can think of ferret, garret, and merit right off . . .
I should have picked the mynah bird :-)
But watch out for that beak!
Its repertoire is quite absurd [KS] I'll give you ferret/merit and parrot/garret (almost) but there are no other relations by rhymeration at all in that bundle o' words.
That's why it is not cheep!
Yes, "beak" and "cheep" are perfect rhymes. In a sense. Which I have just made up.
(pen, penult) I know you don't live in a garrett but have you driven any of these monsters?
My boyfriend drives a Monster Truck
A redneck through and through Perhaps generalising unfairly, but this is poetry, not real-life
He votes for Trump and says "Yee-haw!" ditto
And is fluent in Urdu.
A Monday morning task for me
Is started in the afternoon;
This may seem paradoxical
But Mondays come around too soon. Mercy
I think somebody's pulling the wool
Now then, Mr Software, how many feet does a glow-worm have? de-Dum de-Dum de-Dum Dum, remember? I wish I were a glow worm. So...

I think somebody's pulling

The wool over our eyes
'Cos we know what they're up to
Despite the lizards' lies.
(UN-altered REPRODUCTION and DISSEMINATION of this IMPORTANT Information is ENCOURAGED, ESPECIALLY to COMPUTER BULLETIN BOARDS.)
Un-altered reproduction
No mutations, please
Hidden textEven in Welsh
Important information
Online, not on trees.
I wish I were a bouncer
Like my friend Zebedee
I'd round them up for bedtime
"Brush teeth and have a pee!"
In Glasgow there was a cow
Ee-aye-ee-aye-oh
Sadly, it isn't there now
so I just won't go
I wish I could do scansion
Just like a real poet
But do you know what?
I tend to write whatever rhymes and just add a line below it.
I wish I were a lemur
With a stripy, fluffy tail
I'd hang around the jungle
And drink a pint of ale.
I've never been to Glasgow
Nor said "Och aye the noo"
Because I live in Edinburgh
And have a broader view.
I wish I were a Scotsman
I'd eat haggis every day
And many a deoch an doruis
Would send me on my way.
I wish I were a Geordie
Just like Ant or Dec
I'd pretend to be all cheery
While miserable as feck. soz
I wish I weren't a Yankee       I prefer the demonym "Yinzer" these days
Well, mate, try being Welsh (drqu) According to Wikipaedia that refers to Pittsburgh only, whereas Yankee.....
Or festering or manky This one seems to have taken a terrible turn. Sorry about that
Just like Sir Toby Belsh. tch...
(Kim) What are my initials doing sitting there after your posting? Would you like my phone number?
(Tch) No, but you can have mine if you can suggest a word that rhymes with "Welsh".
Now Lloyd George knew my father
Father knew him back See what I did there?
But Lloyd George would rather
Scratch at his itchy sack! (sorry not sorry...)
Losing pluck on a slack afternoon I want to go home to tea and the sofa
The arms of Morpheus beckoned (Kim) Um, er .... Not one of my better ones. (Giertud) My mother met LLoyd George.
The metre's slightly wonky
I was tireder than I'd reckoned
I wish I were a fairy But knowing my luck I'd be like Mavis in Willo the Wisp.
With Edna as my foe [pen] What a great programme.
[Superman] L G actually did know my great-grandfather.
I'd dance upon the flowers
Then stamp upon your toe
I wish I were an ombudsman
At bureaucrats I'd glower
And rap their knuckles till they bled
Because I'd have that power!
I wish I had a sailboat
To sail the Seven Seas
But hang on, I get seasick
In the slightest breeze.
I wish I lived in Yorkshire.
On Ilkley Moor I'd roam
Neglecting hypothermia
Baht 'at I'd ne'er come home.
I wish I were a busker
Showing all my artistic skill
By plucking my guitar strings
On top of Blueberry Hill.
I wish I were a busker's cap
Filling up with money
I'd please my strumming partner
'Cos 'e needs the ackers, du'n 'e?
I wish I had three wishes
And three wishes for each wish
And so on ad infinitum
Very genie-ish.
I wish that I'd been Guy Fawkes
With gunpowder, treason and plot
'Cos I would have succeeded
'Cos it turned out, he did not.
The natives all get restive
About this time of year
They're unready to be festive
And won't even drink beer.
I do enjoy an autumn gale The Xmas-tree-in-a-pot fell over this morning
That blows the leaves clear off the trees Here it carried the fumes from the burning waffle factory over the South of the city.
The birds don't need a winter home.
So let them freeze their knees
I wish I felt like working
But sadly I do not
I've spent the whole day shirking
And haven't done a jot.
I wish I were a Christmas elf
A slave in Santa's grotto
Keeping dark thoughts to myself
And working 'cos I've got to.
I wish I had a sinecure
I'd like to do f*ck all
I'd be just like a Tory
As in the House I sprawl.
A good cure for stomach ache
Is hair of t'dog that bit you
I don't mean too much Christmas cake
Or else your clothes won't fit you.
My New Year's resolution
Is not the usual thing
It's to find a solution
To all this Brexiting. [ Oblig., and with apologies for posting out of turn.]
I'm going to be a hermit
'Cos I'm an ugly sod
Unless it needs a permit Phew - only took me threre days to trhink of something that wasn't 'Kermit'
To sit upon yer tod.
I wish I were a traffic light
In Balham's High Road, yon
I'd stop all the birds in flight
But would then be sh*t upon
I'm not a first line hogger
The second's fine for me
Then again I am a blogger
Of abysmal poetry
I wrote some poems lately
I think they're rather good
The metre goes sedately
Like semolina pud.
I wish I were a trochee
Such a wild ambition!
But my metre would be far too short
And never reach fruition
The night was dark and stormy
Inside, the fire was bright
A glass of fine Old Tawny
Helped set the world aright.
The day was fresh and breezy
The trees danced in the wind
Spring's just around the corner
Let gloves and hats be binned.
The temperature dropped slowly
Defying hopes of Spring
So back out with the woollies
Not my idea of bling.
I treat my fleas with honey
I loan them to my wife
It costs her lots of money
She says "Oi Vey! My Life!"
When supping with The Devil
I use my longest spoon
The one that is quite runcible
To offer him a prune.
When taking tea with Mater
I always add some milk.
So let me call the waiter
Or someone of that ilk.
I need a new T.V. set
To watch new TV shows
My eyes will need a reset
I stared so much they froze
I want to be with people
Intent on revolution
Not lie down with the sheeple
And hope for absolution.
I wish to make a statement
Of my own theorEE
That laws on noise abatement
Should be sung pp.
My piano is a monster
That lives beneath my bed
My mother says it haunts her
It plays inside her head.
I cannot wear this headscarf
As I have misplaced my head
And so, because I'm headless
I think I must be dead.
I wish I were a drawing pin
Holding up a drawing
'Cos I love it when you push me in
And change my cool to 'thawing' Have I denied someone else a go at rhyming this? Soz...
I wish I could procrastinate
I'll practise it some day
But when I get around to it [Kim - nice :)]
I wish I had a parakeet
I'd chat to it all day
It wouldn't get a word in, and
I have a lot to say
I wish I had a wind turbine
To place atop this hill
To generate some leccy and
Sell it to Brazil.
Brazilian electricity
Just sambas through the wires
Its elegant lubricity
Shines as bright as fires.
Definitely crispworthy, that one.

Is your fire dull and lethargic?

[If that's not glow-wormy enough, feel free to kick it to the kerb.]
If so, it needs more draught I could do with a good draught
Anoint it with some spagyric
(The fan of alchemistic craft) Owwwww.
Hmm, let's try to get back to some good meter and rhyme here . . . hopefully.

If I had an ardvark
I'd set a leopard on it being basically a nasty sod
But as it's armour plated
[Software] As what is armour plated?
(Kim) Shurely the aardvark.
The leopard might not wannit.
I quite liked that one.
Yes, you can bring a leopard to an aardvark, but...
If I had a leopard
And took it for a walk
I then would be in jeopard'
And passers-by would squawk.
[Rosie, Software] But there is no aardvark. The aardvark is merely conjectural. A merely conjectural aardvark cannot be armour-plated.
(Kim) Logically, a conjectural aardvark may take any form whatever within the confines of overall aardvarkiness. It is my contention that such limits do not exclude armour plating or, indeed, a chastity belt.
[Rosie] Agreed, but then ipso facto the armour would also be conjectural.
[Kim]. Nooo, if it wasn't for the chastity belt, then the amour is conjugal.
I don't regret my snarkiness
In fact, it makes me proud
With just one pithy put-down, I [Pen: agreed, but for successful conjugation you have to be in the right mood.]
I stand above the crowd
I wish I were a chainsaw
Zig-zagging through a pine Dutch for 'saw' (n.) is zaag innit.
Instead I'm just a plain saw
Cutting through a vine
I wish I were a genie [pen] I love these linguistic things... Thanks for your "zaagacity"
To grant your every wish
As long as it was weenie
Cos I am skint. Well, -ish.
I rubbed the lamp with vigour
Its magic to arouse
Its puff of smoke grew bigger
As modesty allows.
An apparition formed
Then coughed amidst the smoke
"What the hell's this all about?"
"Is this some kind of joke?
"Here, try this can of Brasso"
"You'll find it's just the thing"
One drop in your espresso
Will start you vomiting
Hidden textSeriously, folks, don't drink Brasso - er, don't - https://jerrychicken.wordpress.com/2008/02/04/brasso-and-its-intoxicating-qualities/
Well, that's not what I wanted
I wonder what went wrong?
I wanted twenty Bensons
Not George and his love song
I'm glad I'm not a buffalo
I'd rather bison be
But either way I'm horny
So, I think I'll hump this tree.
An aardvark is a silly pet
I'd rather have a pig;
They're brainy; I would talk to it (KagomeShuko) Ace filth. Ardderchog yn wir
And find a whirligig
I'm glad I'm not a Tory
As I read in the "Mail"
The Brexit backstop story
Is now the Holy Grail Er, whatever that means
I love to take cold showers
A masochist, that's me
I feel like Austin Powers
But look like Mr T
I wish that I were clever
Like Carol Vorderman
But sadly I am dosy
So I do just what I can Mercy killing
The season is upon us
To spend a load of dosh
I've bought 47 presents
From Harrods 'cos I'm posh
If you need a reason
Why I'm standing here like this
The cubicles are taken up
And I'm bursting for a p*ss Well, someone had to
Inspired by an encounter with a few uncommon words...

If you chance to feel fatigue
All you need's a little feague
Leave egrote and all uhtceare
There's nothing quite like being heare.

feague: to thrust a live eel up a horse's fundament; generally, to excite or jolly along.
egrote: to feign sickness as an excuse for not working.
uhtceare: pre-dawn anxiety regarding the forthcoming day.

I have a cheap thesaurus
An inexpensive low-priced book
It's economical to use
Just open it, and look
All my hair's now orange
Dichromate Dierdre, that's me
I'm bang on trend says Twitter
Like Trump, I'm perfect, see
I wish I were a journalist
Writing porky pies Like Boris Johnson
And very conscientiously
Crossing T's and dotting I's.
I have no need for artifice
My beauty's clear to all
Untainted e'en by dentifrice
I await the curtain call
I wish I were a washing-line
Instead I'm just strung out
Perhaps a glass of summer wine
Would help cure me of gout.
I think I'll take a holiday
In Bali or Majorca
Just somewhere warm and sunny
And some distance from my stalker
I went to see the rodeo
To watch the broncos bucking careful ...
And after that excitement
I was knackered, so no fucking. (Juxt) Great care taken
I wish I were an MEP
Poking fun at Farage
And in the Strasbourg cafes
I'd swerve the milkshake barrage
I wish I were an astronaut
'Cos I'd love astronauting
Wow, that zero gravity
Can be really quite exhausting
I wish I were B. Johnson
And lived in No. 10
Then I'd really f*ck the country up
'Cos I'm a pathogen
Phew, here comes a heatwave
It really isn't fair
The gents perspire, the ladies glow
The nannies merely glare.
I wish I had the confidence
To tell you what I think
Instead, I have the diffidence
To say, "Let's have a drink!"
Let's raise a glass to pen today
A glass a-brim with cheer
Normality is back - hooray!
Unless I have to pay
My garden is a wilderness
And carefully neglected
I'm lacking in green fingeredness
Since I became elected.
They'll never overthrow me
'Cause I weigh 200 lbs
They could bring in the heavies, though
That is out of bounds. mercy killing
I tried to bowl a googly
The batsman was not fooled
He whacked it straight back to me
But 'no ball' was what was ruled.
I'm glad I'm not a bus stop
On a lonely country road
As transport hub I've reached the top
An "important transport node" Hooray!
I'm glad I'm not in parliament
It seems more like a zoo
There's an eagle and a johnber cow oh dear oh dear sorry sorry
That's often heard to moo.
It's time to fetch an adult
The kids do run amok
You'd think at least the House of Lords
Would give a flying fuck pretty much forced, I think
The days are drawing in now
Soon winter will be here
Hibernation is an option
I'll see you all next year.
Switch on the Bluetooth speaker
THEN TURN THE VOLume down
Or else your ears will hiss all night
Because your eardrums' blown
I feed my fish on plastic
They like it lightly fried
They eat and eat and eat and eat
They were fine, until they died.
If something seems a bit awry
Just go back to bed
It'll be alright in the morning
Or if not, I'll be dead.
I found this Roman candle
Burning very bright
But when it gave a sudden phut
I dropped the thing in fright
I wish I had the aptitude
To fix a leaking tap
But my handiness with spanners
Is, alas, just crap I have taken the liberty of putting this one out of its misery.
I wish I had a castle
With a moat both wide and deep
I'd stock it up with crocodiles
Don't stand too close - they leap.
If I controlled the weather
I'd have the sun shine every day;
And moonshine every evening till
My liver wouldn't play.
I think I'll leave the country
For a better one by far
One that welcomes foreigners
I'm thinking... Myanmar?
If I had a catapult
I'd gather all the rocks
I'd launch them with a gleeful twang
While standing in my socks
I think I'll buy a mangonel
They're cheap these days, I'm told
I'd mount it on a carousel
And paint the whole thing gold.
When I become emperor Mwa ha ha
Things will change, you'll see
I'll begin to live ex tempora [Rosie] Good enough?
To reach immortality.
(Pablo) Witty but misspelt. (tempore) Sorree!
I wish I were a porn star risque mode
Impressively equipped
My everything quite monsta
Though certain bits are snipped.
I wish I were a traffic jam
Layered gooseberry, orange, and plum
Tasty, sticky immobility
Hmmmnunumnummmuhrrmnum.
If I had an elephant
I'd place him in a room
I'd take care not to mention it
In case it bringeth doom
A honey badger in the loft
Says he doesn't care [oblig]
About the ever-rising floods
Because he isn't there
Koalas ask for drinks from bikers
I think we're all stumped. The rhythm's not right. How about...
When the Drop Bear needs a drink
It asks the nearest biker
Who answers thus in dulcet tone:
Sorry, there's none. mercy killing
I wish I were a virus oblig.
To medicine immune
I'd make your atoms into mine
And your DNA subsume.
I cough and sneeze and splutter
And spray my bugs on you
Which makes you think, "What utter
plain ignorance.' It's true.
I contemplate the garden
I do it from my chair
I look at all the rampant weeds
And frankly, I don't care
I've just been down to Waitrose
Where the shelves are bare
But lemongrass and bamboo shoots
Are non-essential fare
I just couldn't live without kale
Sorry, the 'without' puts it into limerick metre. I'll have another go.
I've got to have my kale leaves
Ground into bright green soup
Then seasoned lightly, not too much,
Sounds disgusting gloop
There Was a Cat

I'd like to claim I'd illustrated it myself but that won't fool anyone.
Priceless. But it's not signed "By Simons Mith, aged 7 1/4"?
Nah, my handwriting's not that neat now. It does belatedly occur to me that to protect against future 404s I should have put the poem in as alt text.
I wish I were a drawing
Sketched out with a 6B
My fine sfumato showing
My outline, fuzzily.
[pen] Lovely ending. Doffs hat and bows.

A muse that's soft and furry

But lightning fast of paw
Always ends up blurry
Crunched by a feline's jaw.
I wish I were a Spring day
However unpredictable
In the sunshine, I would play.
Till rain uncontradictable.
I wish I were a foggy morn
Silent, cold and still
Dead bodies strewn o'er meadow's dawn
It's just the birds that kill.
I test my eyes by driving
In thickest fog at night;
I haven't had a pile-up yet
Hop in! Do you think I might?
I thought I saw a pterosaur
A-flapping up to me Tune: Diadem
But it's just a seagull
As you can plainly see. oblig.
I've spotted spots before my eyes
Like aerated turds they're floaters
Am I looking at a leopard?
Or a group of stoner voters?
I wish I were a meteor
A-streaking down from space
I'd spread fire over all the Earth
And wipe t'smile off your face.
I wish a were a fountan pen
My nickname being "Her Nibs"
I'd leave blobs of ink o'er the place
To show that I'd first dibs.
I wish I were a fountain, pen
Spraying like a dirty tom
I'd dirty all your clothing, then
Put my cap back on
I'm glad I'm not a rabbit
'Cos I'd hate my floppy ears
To dangle in the gravy
and be brown for years
My soup has got a hare in
Call the waiter, please!
It squawks like Orla Guerin
And has a bunch of fleas!
I wish I were a gremlin
Just like Maxwell's Demon
I'd lurk within the Kremlin
And party with lost seamen.
I wish I were a demon
At Dominoes or Bridge
Then I'd have a reason
To expect privilege
If all my dreams and wishes
Were to come true on this day
I think I'd wish for something
That would make me feel gay.
Oh, to be in England
Where the sun shines on the Thames
The pedalos go stately by I was by the Thames yesterday, with a good friend. It was a perfect afternoon. And you can now hire pedalos in Kingston.
While thunderstorms portend English summer - two hot days ....
If I were a poltergeist
I'd hang around the stairs
Manipulating all the paintings
To take you unawares.
If you should meet a banshee
Upon a misty night
You are prob'ly Irish
And very likely tight
The Pouring of the Liquids
On this Momentous Day I have NO idea what this is about.
Unites the whole of Dollis Hill
On this Momentous Day Not sure if this is finished yet.
CdM - On this Momentous Day Not sure if this is finished yet.

On the first railway.
O'er the silvery Tay. More McGonagall than limerick, I think.
I ply in my old dingy
Bit of a cock-up there:

try again:

Software - I wish I could sail my dingy
Old schooner better than now;
My rigging looks like knitting [Softers - did you mean dinghy? We're running with 'dingy' now anyway!]
A dustbin makes up the prow Going with the flow
I wish I could see unicorns
Then Brexit may be real
My bum would not look big in this
It is though - just feel. Sorry, pen
When planning expeditions *sigh* Not much of that going on right now
There's nothing left to chance
My pack includes the kitchen sink
To wash my hands in France
I am the Surrey puma
A folklore cat or fable [p, R, S, n - handwashing one is very pleasing]
I roam the streets of Londontown
And prey as I am able.
I never was a boy scout
The practice makes me boggle
I never learned to tie a knot
Or how to fix my woggle oblig.
I was a useless Brownie
For each badge I failed
Not one was sewn upon my sash
Instead, they all were nailed.
please hospital no more Jevity!}
[hi Giertrud - good to see you & assuming you're startig a lim here...(and googling 'jevity')]
I'm failing to eat it with levity!
oh poop. I made a line for a lim and it should have been a Glow. Maybe someone has the skillz to rescue it.
Some Bailey's instead (Nah, it shows promise; let's stick with it)
[Giertrud] we've been thinking of you]
And I'm out if this bed If, in any way, the people who branded Jevity were thinking of "long" Jevity, then they need to be duffed up in the corner there
And ending my stay with brevity
OK, after that sonsensual and experiential digression into limerickhood, now back to glow-worms
When boredom comes a-calling
I beat it from my door
Just by going down the pub
And drinking pints and more
I wish I were a monstrous weed shaddap at the back.
That constantly was spreading
Through broadcast of its monstrous seed
And foliage a-shedding
I want to go to Londontown
And wear my Londonshoes
I'd saunter round the Londonstreets
And read the Londonnews.
And then I'd sing the Londonblues
Hidden textI like that last one enough to try another verse. Which will probably end up ruining it, of course.
Of life in Londontown
The streets, the sights, the Londonlights
Which are the Londoncrown.
But I'm stuck here in Merseyside
(Lord have mercy on my soul)
I'm grooving at the Cavern Club
Before I get my dole
CdM I'd say the second glowworm worked, too.
I think I'll go to Anfield
Should be nice and quiet
I'll either hand out toffees
Hidden texttop of the league...
But that's Everton, don't try it!
My mind has gone to mushy bits
(Potatoes but not peas) Now I'm getting hungry too
To find a rhyme for 'mushy' it's
Difficult to please
When I am straddle-ing the fence
The barbed wire can be painful
And, what's more, there's no defence
This stance is never gainful.
What will be of Halloween?
In 2021?
Will we be extinct by then?
Or have lots of fun?
I have a brand-new T-shirt
With holes slashed here and there
It's the brand new style
And they call it "evening wear".
Whilst visiting old stamping grounds
They all said "Who is this?"
"He's never paid for any rounds"
"He always takes the piss"
What I want for Christmas
Cannot be bought online
The cost of postage on its own
My PayPal would decline
The reindeer is a puzzling beast
With such a red, red, nose
And its nocturnal flights may be
With Santa, I suppose
A monkey with a blue, blue arse
Has one thing on its mind
Lifting lions to the sky
Is not it, you will find
I think this form may have potential.

A tapir with a long, long nose

Sniffs the mountain air
While Delphic oracles propose
He smells a grizzly bear.
The narwhal with its long long tooth
Does the dentist fear
For if it should be taken out
Its narwhal friends may jeer not great, but play seemed to have stalled
The rhino with its mighty horn Shuddup at the back
Stands out among the crowd
And those that would the rhino scorn
– Viagra does them proud
We haven't seen a bird all year
Nor wildcat, pig or mole
The ’pocalypse is surely here
Each horseman played his role
I'm glad I'm not a binbag (Chalky) V good - bit of class.
Stuffed in a smelly bin
I'd rather be a pin tag (Rosie) thank you!
Despite the state I'm in.
I wish I were in Georgia
It's always on my mind
Buddy, can you find a vote?
I'll pay you back in kind.
My people do not like me
My servants even less
My family have disowned me
Hi, I'm Andrew. Did you guess?
I've only thirteen minifridges
To keep my lipstick in True, apparently
And as for cold cream just don't ask
Just warn your next-of-kin
The shortage of new jamjars
Stops me from making jam
And that is not the only thing
I do as little as I can
My colleagues do not like me An intermittent theme, although fictitious
I wonder why that is?
Maybe they are envious
That what is mine is his
My colleagues all adore me! I'm sure this must be true
I'm the apple of their eye
But when I go bananas
I know that it's a lie
My teachers say I'm awesome
But little do they know
I’m really just as boresome
As Barry Manilow
They said her name was Lola Going darn the Copa Cobana innit
The hottest in Havana
Wears corsets and a bowler
In a scintillating manner
My Quiz Group do not like me
I am the Question Master
My questions are impossible
Why don't they give up faster?
I know all the answers
The Examiner, that's me
With every paper I find fault
Which indeed fills me with glee
I wish I was a robot
Made of brass and cogs and wheels
You're made of atoms I could use
Depending how I feels
I roll across the battlefield
For I am a big cheese
The bruised and bloodied cattle yield
As I go where I please.
Hidden textNot sure if there was a subtle reference in your line, Chalky, but it was excellent.
I wish I were a Roquefort
That stank of foul corruption
I'd spread my self upon your bread
And cause gaseous eruption.
If all the world was brave and new
And you were by my side
I think I'd might run away
Or think of suicide Invoking dark mode
Why shouldn't we reincarnate?
Recycling's all the rage!
But do not re-invent the wheel
We're not on the same page
I wish I was a satellite
And round the world I'd go
I might be known to go astray
Isaac Newton'd know.
Just one banana toastie
Then I'll have my lunch
A sausage with a roastie
Deep fried to make it crunch.
I should have done some gardening
My roses are all brown
My runner beans are hardening
And the weevils are in town
For just a million dollars
My car is up for sale
It wears a clerical collar
And runs on home-brewed ale
I closed my eyes and saw the light
And knew that death was near
He carried thirty-seven scythes
But I'm old, and have no fear.
I've eaten chicken nuggets
Hidden textThat car sounds fun, but would home brewed ale be cheaper than gasoline . . er petrol . . .
I hope they don't react
But I'll just take some precautions
I'll purge after the fact. euuuwww. Sorry.
I sing a song of sixpence
I don't have much to spend
But my birdie pie's a whopper
Some money, could you lend?
Simple Simon met a pie man Continuing the theme
Coming through the rye
Simon said "Give me your pies now"
And all he said was "Why?"
If I were Jack and you were Jill
And we were all alone
We'd not waste time with hills and pails
We'd be each on our smartphone .
A tuffet-seated missy
Was tickled by a spider
She pilled her why upon the ground
But it should have gone inside her.
Hidden text(KS) Did you mean whey?
A little laddie dressed in blue
Slept under a pile of hay
Hidden text[Rosie] Yes, whey and also spilled. My laptop likes to make my cursor jump all over - can hardly wait to get my new one.
While livestock ran alas amok
That night 'twas hell to pay.
The Duke of York was very grand
Ten grand in his charge
He marched them to the summit, and
Down then, by and large
A dragon went into his cave
To lay on piles of gold
All that glister, what a rave (Softers) Brilliantly prosaic
But soon its bum turned cold
An egg is such a curious thing
Bash it and it cracks
But keep it warm for many days
And you might see it hatch.
The owl said to the pussy cat
Why is your tail so long?
This pick-up line was met with a
Sling your hook - begone!
A man who came from Timbuktu
Arrived in Samarkand
And asked to use the nearest loo
When things got out of hand
I wish I were a painter (Chalky) Disgraceful
Then your house I'd decorate
I'd paint it all in tangerine
And display it at the Tate.
I've got a huge desire
For a gender change
In order to inspire
A greater thespian range.
Now look what you've done Last one v good esp pen. Ardderchog. Pum seren etc etc
There's no jelly in the jar
You've eaten all my homemade jam
And left the fridge ajar.
You ate the peanut butter
With sardines spread on toast
You're just a greedy nutter
And you've failed as a host.
It's June, and light abounds Sorry, Dujon
Tbe fireflies have come.
Hark! What are those sounds!
The firefly's burning bum
The sedge has withered from the lake
And no bird comes to make his song
And no bird comes to sing
Hidden textbetter fits the glow-worm metre
That beauteous woman was a fake!
(Knight's daze is misleading.)
With bluer skies and lengthening days
It's time to set the heath ablaze
A roaring fire is just the thing
To make the roasting pigeons sing - AABB silliness
I long to be a glow worm
A glow worm's never bored
A butt that shines is all they need
To get themselves adored.
I yearn to be a clerihew
But cannot break the mould
Boris Johnson is my name.
Same old, same old, same old.
Soon it'll be midsummer
The pollen count sky-high
'Cos allergy's a bummer (KagS) So it's you, is it
I often question why
I wish I were an epic
But I never learned to ep
So I'll stay among the shadows
And do so step-by-step
I wish I had a genie
In a lamp of molten brass
With a gently glowing yellow light pls pls pls...
That shines out of his arse. What you had in mind, pen?
[Raak] Yes, and thank you - but it wasn't just me. You could see the other contributors were all building up to it...
I wish that it were pay day It is actually, but that just means I can afford the poetic license to imagine that it's not
Then for a while I will feel flush
I'll have a splendid gay day
And top up my fund labelled "slush".
The ration is one verse per week
Or that's what it would seem
Such stinginess deserves a tweak
If we aspire to meme
Rationing poems ought to be a crime
As woeful scansion is
Equally, a clunky rhyme
Isn't quite the biz
Such clunkiness in public prose
Is common as a loaf of bread
So let us roundly condemn those
Whose rhymes have no street cred
Dogs are funny creatures
Although they're none too bright
Their sweet appealing features
Yes, but they smell and bark all night
I hope to take a holiday
In far-off Timbuktoo
I hope they've got an airport
And a ladies' loo
I've booked a short vacation
To somewhere where it's dry
Because my medication
Tends to make me high
Obligatory rhyming
Is really not so hard
But sometimes it just takes a lot
... All right, Software—you're barred!
Hidden textNot really. :)
I try to make it simple easy
'Cos we're all pretty dim
Our IQ rating is the pits
At least it's more than HIM.
I wish I were a laser beam
At least I'd have some focus
My photons in a single team
Marking out my locus.
Hidden text And don’t complain about the pronunciation.
I'm glad I'm not anonymous
For then no one would know
That no one really knows me
So won't mourn me when I go
Now I'm really famous
My TikTok's taken off
I'm known worldwide as Seamus
The new Rachmaninoff
Oh! To be in Trebizond
In 1461
I'd say I was Agent Bond Looks like Q's latest gadget is a bit temperamental...
Hello, everyone!
I need a Covid passport
To see my Chinese gran
The funeral's in Wuhan
Where bats freely disport. [Chalky] Patience, patience
And now I've lost my glasses
I'm drinking from the bottle
Much like the swigging masses
I can barely waddle.
Today is not so boring
My camel's come for tea
Good job I've been storing
Its favorite raspberree.
Whilst brushing up my repartee
Of devastating wit
I found that I was shouted down
By one entitled tit.
Just because I'm sexy
Don't take my “no” as “yes”
My signals are complex, see?
My beard, moustache, and dress.
Don't just stand there smirking
We need some answers fast
This strategy's not working
We’re living in the past tbc
We must address the elephant
And use this GPS
Or nothing will get better
And we'll still be in this mess.
Delivering an elephant
The midwife's sternest test?
Stand well clear - they're heavy
Well, now! Who'd've guessed?
Autumn nights are drawing in
To tinge the skies with gold
And Mr Frosty's fingers
Will have you in their hold.
Summertime is coming
At least in parts more austral
But up here it's dark at four
When shadows haunt the claustral
Christmas time is looming
There will be fun for all
Boris has commanded it
At the Covid-19 ball Mercy killing. Onwards.
Beware the claws of Omnicron!
Hidden textsic
Which Borish vows to fight
But any vow that Boris makes
Is just a pile of shite
I wish I were a teabag (Chalky) Couldn't've put it better meself.
Floating in a mug
Waiting to be pulled out
And go dripping on the rug.
I wish I were a teaspoon
For I'm a nat'ral stirrer
I'd swish about inside your mug
mugs off
Whilst rebooting some Glow Worms
For amusiement I need Sorry, I'm a bit pissed. It's the brandy, y'know. Dreadful stuff.
To get some improved scansion
Indeed!
To again reboot this glow-worm
I write a witty line
A quick fix for the short term - [invoking ABAB]
The closing punch is mine!
The glow-worm's running smoother
and I, for one, am glad
We've found our feet and who the
hell could claim that that's all bad?
I wish I were a plectrum trad.
A little plucking thing
And play a tuneful spectrum dodged that one by the skin of our glow-worm teeth
Of stuff you'd like to sing
O to be in finland
Now that winter's here
The coasts's not bad but inland
It's f**king freezing there They run out of the sauna and roll in the snow, I hear.
When thoughts turn to the winter [Software] Don't knock it 'til you've tried it - bracing!
I snuggle up in bed
Waiting for the springtime [nights] I've been in Finnish saunas but not the snow bit.
Like splinters in my head [S'ware] no rhyme? ABAB not compulsory but way more fun.
I wish I had a wrecking ball
I'd ride it into you
'Cos I'm a bit aggressive
And it's a smashing thing to do [Chalky] variety is the spice of life, or so thay do say :)
I'm all dressed up and fancy
But I've nowhere to go
I'm told that necromancy
Is popular below.
I wish I were a hacksaw
With strong serrated blade
I'd cut right through the bullshit
That's how Glow Worms get made - slo-mo in here
I wish I were a magpie's nest
That's full of stolen treasure
I'd pick over the hidden treats
To do so gives me pleasure
I wish I weren't inclined to think
When late at night in bed
That I'm not going to sleep a wink
For fear I'll wake up dead
As I was walking out I found
A silver coin upon the ground   AABB declared
I'm rich, I thought, until I saw
Someone who clearly needed it more.
Quite neat, I think, although a touch of the shoehorn is needed in one place.
Hidden textSomeone who needed it much more.
As I was walking out I heard
A mournful plaintive cry
Next-door's cat had caught a bird
And ate it by and by
I wish I had a mocking bird
To mock you all day long
Because you are a shocking turd
And more than often, wrong.
:^D
There's something very pleasing about collectively written gentle rhyming insults.
I wish I had a leaky boat
To row on my canal
Shall I add a cheeky note
Or one that's just banal?
I once noticed that a very unremarkable picture of mine on Flickr was getting a lot of clicks. Then I realised that the caption included the word "canal", but I'd left off the first letter.
I want my privets widely viewed
For my topiary is fine
Some might say they're mildly rude
Like privates, by design.
You know how badly these things go
When scansion is awry
As weaker poets' failings show
No matter how they try
I'm glad I'm not a tuning fork
With but a single note
For I have a complex waveform
And a terrible sore throat
I wish I had more sex appeal
But wallflower, that is me
I hang about in corners
And I'd rather watch TV.
I wish I were on holiday
In some exotic place
Dreaming I was far away
From all the human race.
I think I've had enough of work Ain't that the truth
It takes up too much time
It dulls the soul but pays the bills
Oh, buddy, spare a dime?
[RTG] Nice
They say that work, and lack of play,
Will make you rather boring
But I have always found a way
To live it up while choring.
Well, that's the Jubilee done
These flags are now redundant
Until the next coronashun
When once more they'll be abundant
I wish I had a magic wand
Such havoc I would wreak
As master of the demi-monde
I'm half-price all this week.Moving swiftly on...
I'm glad I'm not a hosepipe
Because I'd soon be banned
From pissing in the garden
In a manner underhand
I wish I were in Essex
'Cos I'm a dreadful chav
I'd down ten pints of Stella
Then puke up in the lav. oblig.
Great stereotyping there, is there more?
I wish I were in Bristol
In my Vauxhall Astral car
Scoffing some bananals
Down 'arbourside Oo Ar
Ah wush ah were in Glasgy
Tae swag doon Sauchiehall
And Gie m'sel a swally
Is't me ye're lookin' at, Jimmy? traditional
Hmmm... I wish I were Mancunian
Let's 'ave it. Proper sound
But you all think I'm in Corrie
'Cos Boddingtons you've downed.
I'm glad I'm not a scouser
With inimitable speech
It's way more posh in Southport
And great on Formby beach. Hooray!
If I sound like a Brummie
As Noddy Holder does
You'd imagine I was scummy
As Noddy Holder was
Hidden textIt most certainly _duz_ rhyme
It's my turn for Prime Minister
I'll soon have this mess fixed
I won't do owt that's sinister oblig.
'Though feelings may be mixed
I've got loads of fireworks
They don' arf make a racket
We'll blow up all those dire berks
Tho' they cost a packet
I glad I'm not in Qatar
But I'll watch it on the box
Where punditry and chat are
Making unimportance into shocks.
The 12-day countdown starts today
so let's go down the pub
And sing a jolly roundelay
Then get some beer and grub.
We want some figgy pudding
But Tesco is sold out
So I'll make do with some parkin
And a jug of curried trout.
Surprising what Tesco stocks nowadays!
Forgot that auld acquaintance
And never brought to mind
Eschew that cup of kindness
That's not the way, you'll find.
Twelfth Night is upon us
Whichever night that is
Hidden textI've never been quite sure how to count it.
We marked the date with honours
At our local's Annual Quiz
Burns Night us upon us
I'll get the bandages
Let haggis take the honours
I don't care what he sez
The trouble with marmalade
Lies deep within my psyche
It's a pithy problem
Trauma for breakfast - oh crikey.
I wish I'd heard the news that
The sun's going supernova
Best get on a Vogon ship
To wait safely till it's over.
I'd like to thank the one-eyed toad
Who plays for Tottenham Hotspur
She's often seen at White Hart Lane
Hoping for a transfer
Outside it's wet and windy
Inside, it's quite warmer
Really, I can't wait for spring
Oh! Is that the first Keir Starmer?
Mercy killing
Let's try and get this back on track
Just like a railway train
So you go lift it from the back
The train will take the strain
I wish I was an artichoke
Classier than a cabbage
I'd look down on asparagus
And all the other baggage.
Now if I were a penguin
An emperor I'd be!
I'd lord it over all my realm
In this bloody freezing sea
I'm going to dine al fresco
In Skegness's bracing air
My ready meal's from Tesco
I'll eat it with amazing flair
I'm going to take a holiday
South Georgia here we come
Among the sheep and penguins
I'm bound to feel at home.
<
I want to take a few days off
Just to spite my boss
I'll pretend I've got a nasty cough
If he sacks me—that's his loss!
It's finally the end of term
See you in September
I now have time to wiggle and squirm
Which I'll do, as a Morniverse member.
I wish I had a crystal ball
Just like Mystic Meg's
I'd swing it hard against the wall
And smash it just like eggs oblig.
I wish I were a solar flare
Bursting into space
Making havoc with the upper air
Whilst leaving not a trace
I wish I had a giant cake
To satisfy my greed
But oh my friends, make no mistake
A wish is not a need.
To start my little Hallmark rhyme [KS, R, C, R] That last one - too perfect! Cake all round!
I'm scribing with a pen
Though I'd rather be a mime
It's nice just now and then
Seasons come and seasons go
But love is aye forever
I only wish that that were so
For some divorce will sever
I think that ev'ryone complains
About the town of Bracknell
And all because that rower, James
Did change his name to Cracknell
When I join the House of Lords
And give my maiden speech
I'll summon all my Zords
To take Black Rod to the beach.
I wish I lived upon the moon
To see earth rise each morn
From dusk right through to dawn
I wish I lived in outer space
Far from the madding crowd
With Bathsheba Everdene
Or with Girls Aloud
I'm glad I'm not a doctor
'Cos I'd be underpaid
Not like a college proctor
Where fortunes can be made
I wish I had an antelope
For they are very tasty
When butchered fit for Masterchef
To make a Kenyan pasty.
I wish I hadn't started this
It leads I know not where (Raak) That's not what they call them in Cornwall
So please be mindful when I kiss
You don’t know what’s “down there”.
I wish that were Santa
For then I would see
When you last had your chimney swept
And who's atop your tree
I wish I had a Christmas tree
With a fairy on the top
Against which my small dog could pee
He will; he cannot stop
If I were a Santa's elf
I'd hammer all the toys
And into one or two I'd slip
Some poisonous alloys
They said that this dog was for life
But life is short for some (Bis) That's rather limericky
[Rosie] Oops...
So I've made him my next of kin
In case people think that I'm dumb.
I wish I spoke Swahili
Then I could reconnect
Perhaps more touchy-feely
No, I'm more select
If I were a snowman
With a carrot for a nose
Angular and Roman
You'd see how much it glows.
If I knew then what I know now
I'd choose a different course
No longer would I need to bow
To Romans, Jutes, and Norse (lament of the Iceni)
I wish I knew the secret
Of trying to sing in tune
But I have a voice just like a frog
So I'll serenade the moon.
I don't forgive the roundheads
For actions cavalier
Old Olie was a tyrant
And he took away our beer
I wish I weren’t innumerate
So mathematically numb
I can't work out the interest rate
Being Chancellor was dumb
I'm glad I'm not Jeremy Hunt
For taxing is his role
And I feel taxed just standing up
But rhyming slang's his goal.
I hold it, hold it, hold it more
My effort is in vain
For now it’s down there on the floor
Next time I'll use a crane.
I wish I were an elephant
In the corner of the room
All would see but none would tell
That I'm the voice of doom.
I wish I were a punk rocker
With piercings in my face
For this would be more likely than
The plan that is in place
I wish I were a nightingale
I'd charm the world with song
Which flighty chorus might entail
And sing all night long.
I'm glad I'm not a princess
'Cos I'd be so fussy.
Sign up to OnlyFans dear chap
Become a shameless hussy!
I'm glad I'm not Marcel Marceau
Or I’d have this to say:
"                                         "
But that was yesterday
I'm glad I'm not a busted flush
For that's an awful fate
But I am just a failure
At getting my first date.
I'm glad I'm not a man of war
A hydrozoan beast
I'm more inclined to think of peace
In Portugal at least
I wonder what's on the box
The one containing tricks
Oh. Nothing. I'll go out instead.
And find nothing at the flicks.
If I smell the roses
I might just prick my nose
And those who prick their noses
Stub their knees and pick their toes.
I long for obsolescence
Swift turnaround's my thing
I'll transmigrate my essence
For to nothing I do cling
These boots were made for something
And something's what they'll do
Observe as they do one thing
That's walk all over you
The quality of mercy
Depends on who you know
Luckily, my friends agree
You ordered flesh to go.
I wish I were in Amsterdam
To see the parakeets
While sipping on my Advocaat
And moistening the seats.
I know a bank where wild thyme blows
That's sweetly sprung in June
And like my love the musk-red rose
I’ll feel a right ass soon.
To be or not to be, that is
The pencil salesman’s lot
But personae more dramatis
Sketch a much darker plot
Is this a dagger or a sponge
Or duck-billed platypus?
Neither, it is virtual
It's next-door's tatty puss. Softers, old bean, this is not a f****** limo
If music be the food of love
Then jazz it up I say
But if you like your love life bland
It's Musak all the way
Alas poor Yorick who I knew
Quite well, but that was then
Just thinking on him makes me blue
In cat lives he's on ten. (Softers) Sorry - inappropriate comment a couple of goes back.
Today I've got a toothache True. [Rosie] No sweat.
I'd like to pull it out
But with breath to make a dentist quake
I'll close my lips and pout
I wish I had a dentist's drill
Hidden textIs it safe?
; A bag of shiny gems
A glass of that pink water
From which all comfort stems.
I wish my drill could crack a safe
I wish this safe would crack
Maybe I'll use TNT
Which lacks a rhyming knack
.. is ABAB rhyming pattern obligatory? Have often wondered ..
ABAB has symmetry,
ABCB surprises.
ABAB? ABCB?
Both fine rhythmic devices.
Hidden textIMO, anyway.
I wish my Worms had rhythm
Instead, I have the blues
Hidden text[Chalky] The instructions to the game suggest ABCB is acceptable but I think we should aspire to the more pleasing ABAB form. It is not like we are in the realm of difficult poetry here. :)
Because I'm stuck at Witham
Until my train segues
This verse will be my opus
And magnum let it be (Raak) I am sure (i.e. not absolutely sure) it's "Wittum". (Pj) I chortle.
A work of such wide scope, as
Transcends mere you and me. [Rosie} I find now that I cannot remember how I've heard it when "this train will terminate at Witham, from where a rail replacement bus etc.". OTH, "rittum" ...
[Witham] If it's the one in Essex, I used to work there and it was "Wittum" at that time.
[Rhymes] the original glowworm was abcb, and we did do an aabb not long ago. It's doggerel, it probably doesn't matter much.
The A12 up from Chelmsford
I've travelled many times.
(Being from that part of the world, it is indeed Witt'm. I assumed Raak knew this and so decided to push the "misunderstanding the pronunciation from the spelling" joke a centimetre further.)
I'd leave my desk in Elmsford
For another town that rhymes.
I wish I were an orange
Unrhymably aloof
But sharply dressed and full of zest
In brandy, 80 proof

I wish I were an orange
Unrhymably aloof
And on sale for two shillings, j-
-ust to show that that's the troof
It only takes an integer
You tried to type a fraction
A practice much more vintage-r
But still requires redaction. (Pj) I jess lurve your grammar
A voice, ethereal silver
Calls me in the night
In spring-green rhyme, until ver-
-dant, green and bright
I wish that silver turned to green
December turned to May
However, life is not pristine
(Which made you drop your K)
I wish I'd listened closely
To what my Mum told me
'Cause what she said was mostly
'Bout my value if she sold me. bit brutal
A league, a half, and onward rode
Six hundred men at arms
They simply could not have knowed Poetic licence. Just renewed it.
The extent of Alfred's charms
The cake, I've gone and burnt it
There's nowt else left for tea
That were a reet fuckup, weren’t it?
He curs'd, historic'lly
On second thought, rhetoric'lly.
I wish I were a piano key
Caressed by your fair hands
But I'd likely be the bottom B
And that wish no longer stands
I wish that I could stand atop
A peak in Darien
With widened eyes and wild surmise
I'd go down again
A shiny, wet-nosed doggerel
Came lolloping up to me
And the choppy waves in Dogger'll
Engulf me doggedly
I wish I were a mechanic
And handy with my spanner
And if I built the Titanic
Divided hulls would span ‘er and 1514 individuals would not have perished
The role of Roman consuls
Cannot be overstated
But in the case of old Ford Consuls
They are now equally dated.
Time and tide are loath to wait
Not even for Canute
Will they e'er their course abate
Nasty, short and brute.
Buttered eggs are much the same
Boiled, poached or flambé
555
555
555
555
Serve them with slow roasted game
On cloths of golden chambray
I wish I had a few more days
To perfect this little verse
But others, with their clumsy ways
Barge in and make it worse.
I wish that I’d just spoken up
But now it’s far too late
Instead I'll just go and hide
These sprouts left on my plate.I love sprouts akshully
I love fresh peas with minted sauce
And new potatoes too
Surrounding roast Sumatran rat
Topped with beetle poo.
Next year, or else the year beyond
I'll go to Burning Man
And when I leave, I will abscond
At least, that is my plan
The food you get in Czechia
Sustains the locals well
But in Civitaveccia
It has a nasty smell
555
Is quite a boring number
Though it once represented a cigarette
Still bored. Time for slumber
I wish I didn't have a job
And could laze upon my yacht
But I'd have no yacht if I'd no job
A conundrum, is it nacht?
Olympic fun in Paris town
And everyone's in Seine
E'en those in academic gown
But not those faire du plein
I know I must, I think I might
But perhaps I'd better not
I'm not quite sure that I'm quite right
So far left's all I've got.
Some think that a riot is fun
All that broken glass!
Until, that is, they all get done
Except the upper class
I've got an old typewriter
I can’t get ribbons for it
I'm trying to write a poem
I'll scribe it on a post-it
If I no longer had my arms
I'd join the Paralympics
But if instead I lost my charms
I'd photoshop my gym pix
If your skin is always yellow
Check your liver function
If it's fine then just be mellow
And apply a little unction.
When my toes just touch the water
They go completely numb
But if I run and leap right in
I'm bound to freeze my bum.
Walking in the rain is nice
Says Cherrapunji girl
The monsoon has not arrived
So she executes a twirl
Careful with that axe, Eugene!
The blade is razor-sharp
You'll slice my leg and my blue jean
's And the gut strings of my harp.
I wish I were no longer here
’Cause there is so appealing
The grass of home is not as green
As that big roundabout in Ealing
If I had an eel today
I'd make eel pie and mash
A good old east end staple
Which fails to cut a dash (vomit emoji)
The tumbrils roll along, along
The executions never end
But I face it with a merry song
Ascend, ascend, ascend, ascend.
You'll meet with Madam Guillotine
In mcios
So smear your hair with brillantine
You'll still be one head less. all right, fewer
[Rosie] During the French Revolution, the Parisian supermarkets had to put in "one head or fewer" aisles, I understand.
How about a reverse glow worm?

Until I can't no more
Pressed his point
                              most forcefully
The man there smoking a joint
What was that?
I mean...
The man there smoking a joint
Most forcefully
Pressed his point
Until I can't no more
Have we invented the modern poetry version of a glow-worm?
Probably the least competent reverse engineering I've seen in a verse game (although I think CdM was trying to append his bit to the end of Chalky's foreshortened line). I think we should have another go.
And still it makes no sense.
I've read it inside-out and back
Nor who, nor why, nor whence
I don't know how it went off-track
[Projoy] Yes, that was my intention. I was imagining something like

I pled my case remorsefully
He still had points to score
Pressed his point most forcefully
Until I can't no more

which is at least vaguely coherent. :)
I wish I were a versewright's mate
With my quill in hand
I'd scribe the words he doth dictate
And adjust fix them so they scanned
I wish I'd been more skeptical CdM neat
'Bout what I see online
Now I don't know which step to call
forget that, try this: My brain's now the receptacle
For sinker, hook, and line.
I wish had some Chapstick
For my little chap-struck knees
I'd smear it very carefully
And put myself at ease.
I wish I could go back again
To glorious Timbuktu
The Athens of old Mali
And pre-Brexit too
If I were a dinosaur
Which I am, but that's a joke
I'd surely be the cynosure
As fun at me they poke
of mice and men and rats and sots
i weave this ’structive tale
A bunch of gin has sure gots
More alcohol than ale.
I wonder why there are not more
Friv'lous twats like me
I think it's 'cos you're getting old
At almost thirty three
To sleep, to die, to fade away
Is not how I shall go
I'll rant and rage and lead astray
And put up a real good show
I wish I had some stollen
And a glass of hot gluhwein
A dash of fresh bee pollen
Will ease its path just fein
I'm looking for some Christmas soul
But only found this wine
There's also an old sausage roll
Which I must decline.
Try saying no to deep-fried snacks
They surely will obey
Crisps and chips and other things
Are out — make do with hay.
Chocolate seem more appetizing
Chocolate seems more fun
Chocolate makes you feel quite good
When all is said and done.
I wish I were a 5 year old
For whom he world is new
All day I'd have adventures
Pretend I'm in a zoo
But Now We Are A Six Year Old
And almost all growed up
I'll read the works of Kierkegaard
Around my Tommee-Tippee cup
I wish the (UK) Online Safety Act (2023)
Had withered on the vine instead of ending all our poetry (Iambic octameter, AABB?)
Still, maybe we could try and make it scan
arrow_circle_down
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