mc5 - The Obligatory Limericks Game Reincarnated

Have a secret and unwritten code [Rosie] I wondered what you'd make of that!

"Monday morning at eight-"

"Number 10, by the gate"

Bring biscuits and plenty of woad

My friend the guitarist told me

That every time he plays barred G (taking the stress to be on the middle syllable of guitarist, though there is another way of reading the line that also works)

He gets cramp in his wrist

And curses Franz Liszt

Which seems a bit pointless, to me.

I've realised something profound [Rosie, Raak] There was a limerick on one of these sites long ago where I rhymed Llanelli with "pallor most "delli". 'Course, in that case, the rhyme was perfect, but was only an approximation to the pronunciation of the English word -- a subtle difference from Raak's case. I'm half Welsh, so I can pronounce Llanelli half decently.

Which, I believe, will astound

A single red rose

And a line writ in prose

Will get her to bed in a bound

[C,S,J,M,i] Jolly good - I like a bit of optimism

The problem with getting new teeth

Is the old ones are hard to bequeath

But plant them outside

And treat them with pride

And spread loads of enamel beneath...

To grow a whole garden of molars

One must pot them in inverted bowlers

So all of you misers

And dull early risers

Get digging and make some violas. (Herr B) Sorry, couldn't resist it.

I've been 'round for 28 years

But dieting's one of my fears

So now I'm obese

All blubber and crease

So pass me twelve more lovely beers.

There's possibly nothing as bad

As Gaga's new meaty dress fad

It grows germs and maggots

(Which can make tasty faggots)

Plus I've heard that the cows used were mad

As I set off to tour round the world

I make sure that my beard is well curled Ho, ho, ho.

My red and white cloak

(Colors courtesy of Coke)

Is my aerofoil when unfurled.

Be merciful with your poor boss

Someday you will report a net loss

Of some zillions of pounds

A sum that astounds

But he still blame the workers of course

"Take care as you go up that ladder",

And more HSA yadda-yadda Health & Safety Authority

"At all times beware" (Raak) Isn't it the HSE (Executive)?

" 'cause our lousy health care"

[Rosie] So it seems. If I had looked at my Google results more closely, I would have seen that the HSA is the Irish version.

"Won't clean up the blood that you spatter."

A boy scout once knocked on my door

But I soon had him pinned to the floor

Saying "Show me your woggle"

Hidden text

(Phil) Hoping for Bob a Gob Job?

"and I'll help you boondoggle"

It's now no wonder I'm sore coat!

While scoffing my night-time banana (Softers) You clearly weren't Prepared.

I gazed out at the Kenyan savannah

When along came a monkey

No, a gibbon most funky

Who winked and said, "See you mañana!"

I plan only one resolution:

nfras

An end to methane pollution

Eliminate cattle!

And you'll see that that'll

Minimize gas distribution

If the Euro does go down the pan

If the Euro does go down the pan

Whoops - got the 2-for-1 offer by mistake

I shall unveil my dastardly plan

(bifurcation) I'll buy every cabbage I can

And restore threepenny bits Route 1

To resort to barter Route 2

Which clearly is smarter Route 2

Try stop staring at tits Route 1

Than selling French nukes to Iran Route 2

Mercy Killer

Marc (previous one)

And write better lines if I can... End of route 1

There once was an impatient killer

Who was known to resemble Camilla

Her frightful coiffure

Which was less than demure

Made her look like a bad Phyllis Diller

Let us all now praise the spider

And resist the strong urge to deride her

For her wondrous web

From April to Feb.

Accounts for the insects inside her

Now it's less than a week until Christmas

I'll retire to my own private isthmus

Feast on egg nog and manta

Festooned with diamante

[cfm] Come on, that doesn't rhyme and hardly scans - how about
And, as a present from Santa,

[INJ] A touch of the shoehorn there?

Some glasses to cure my strabismus. Following INJ.

When your scansion is called into question

Be open to any suggestion

Do not post crappy lines

Or you'll have to pay fines

For causing grammatic indigestion

Dear Santa I've been a good boy

So what if I'm Jewish, not goy

I've said my baruchs

And kept off all hooches

A day of good kosher joy

If you want we could meet at the pub

For a pint and a nice syllabub (Slight failure of rhymage in line 4 of previous. Mind you, what English word rhymes with 'baruchs'?

[Knobbly] "loud heuchs"?

Hopefully there's trivia (as for rhying with baruchs - Tuques, kooks, Luke's, nukes, souks . . .)

About Oman or Bolivia

And something resembling fair grub.

I put some crushed ice in my shaker

And added a loaf from the baker

Three jiggers of rye

Two ounces of lye

I'm preparing to now meet my Maker

"NOW THE ENDING IS NEAR - PLEASE BEWARE!"

Said the pilot, when flying RyanAir

Then turbulence hit

And the purser said "Shit!"

And the queue for the loo, c'est la guerre.

There once was a cute little maiden

Whose talent was lovely hair braidin'

Her fingers flew faster

Than light - then disasteru

She saw that the colour was fadin'

Merlyn

A fella with long flowing locks

, a beret and some blue argyle socks

Approached me and said

"I would not be seen dead!

In anything but fancy frocks"

My tailor and I are in tune/b>

Since we danced by the light of the moon

He has measured me up

For the Tailor Dance Cup

Which takes place promptly at noon!

She liked her hair long and skirts short

And to drink: a small lime and port

But question 'her' gender ... interesting that the last ten limericks bar one have been started by the same two contributors ...

Is "she" really a bender?

I'd check but I'd end up in court

As we journey through life, we should try Excellent finish Darren

To have ready a good alibi

And to question the fitness

Of each expert witness

Because folks, given chance, often lie.

The passage from thought into words

Proves tricky for most geeks and nerds ...[cfm,CdM,R,pen] classy teamwork :)

To help their expression

Or fervid confession

They should sing it with flat minor thirds. Bluesy . . . .

Using mice and a furlong of string

I fashioned some low-budget bling

That I'd tie to my cat

In the way of a hat

Which made it quite easy to fling

Spare a thought for the down-trodden vole

Who is often confused with the mole

But the piles that they leave

If you look, won't deceive

'Cos it all comes out of a hole.

Tonight I will go to the pub

For the craic, a pint, and some grub

Perhaps a quick song

Then, if nothing goes wrong

I'll be throwing some shapes at a club

And if I'm in luck, then I'll pull

A fancy trick on a bull

It won't buck me off

If I don't start to cough

And my evening would then count as full.

When I do take the bull by the horns

The damn thing stands on my corns

But after some bellows

My misery mellows

'til I take 'nother Gin spiked with thorns...

My carpenter hammered and screwed

He was quite the industrious dude

He made me a closet

In which I deposit

Young Marc when he tries to be lewd :)

My mother is ninety today

So I'll sing her a song, if I may

"Knees up Mother Brown"

And she'll then go to town

For her regular 'roll in the hay'...

On the telly I saw Doctor Phil

Who said I should take this blue pill

But I took the red

My love life is dead

And the willy now lacks all its will

The firm Williams, Johnson & Dick This crowd is a v bad influence

Has taken a great deal of stick

But these upstanding men

Will, no doubt, come again

And give all your egos a prick. MOVING ON

A day in the country is nice

A breath of fresh air for my lice

And my worms like the view

As I visit the loo

And dispose of my dodgy fried rice.

I'm learning to trust my optician

But I still have a nagging suspicion

He's paid just to flatter

Which shouldn't much matter

As I already have perfect vision

With one of my ears on the floor

And the other one nailed to the door

I'm over-extended

Much more than intended

But my ears do not ring anymore

I think that my tongue's swelling up!

I find my pint I cannot sup

But if I had a straw

Or two, three, or more

I'd sip from this large china cup

One day we will run out of air

You'll inhale--and it just won't be there

And no-one will hear

Your screaming with fear

And there will be noone to care

I hope when I breathe my last breath

Of the fumes from that sweet crystal meth

That I'll be in the arms

Of the great Chelsea Charms

And that she is not clearly brain death.

I hope when I drop from this coil This theme is a bit deadly, isn't it?

And I'm under six feet of soil

That someone will say

"He was great in his day"

"But now he is starting to spoil"

I'll be pushing up daisies one day

Until then I'll be happy and gay

I'll dance right through life

With one not my wife [irach] LOL--great line.

Never caring what others might say

I'm hoping when I kick the bucket

It will make the front page in Pawtucket

My corpse they'll cremate
In a neighbouring state
And scatter the ash in Nantucket
Apols for 3 lines - I've never done that before AFAIR, but I had an uncontrollable urge.

There once was a doddy old fool

Who fancied a swim in the pool

He made a high dive

Then - heavens alive -

Trunks slipped, revealed fam'ly jewel

I am stuck in this game what 'bout you?

They should lock all of us in a zoo

They could then charge admission

And give no remission

Till at least twenty minutes past two

I haven't a clue what to say

My mind's in complete disarray

I feel so confused

By words I have choosed

I think I'll just go away

Four minutes and thirty-three seconds

It took to peel 43 almonds (tricky rhyming there, good luck to line 5)

Lemonds?

Now her marzipan beckons

So her pastry chef reckons

Pate d'amande sera bien charmante
Desperate attempt to escape the cage with the unconventional ABA*A*B* limerick rhyming scheme.

I've broken my grandma's sledgehammer

While breaking up rocks in the slammer

She was here years ago

Her offense? I don't know

Except she was a wife of Osama

The thing about being best friends

Should be that the fun never ends

How much fun it would be

If we went out to sea

And you dove and came up with the bends

Come on, you've got nothing to lose

From walking in A. Nother's shoes

When you've walked for one mile

You can pause for a while

And sing a song -- A. Nother's Blues

There once was a song 'bout a girl

Who had a wild fling with an earl

Though not born to the manner or manor, if you prefer

She checked in her planner

To find he was down as a churl
Amazing how few rhymes there are for "girl", as I found when writing a song who's hook line ends with it. Pain in the arse for lyricists...

burl, curl, earl, hurl, kerl, merl, merle, nerl, pearl, searl, searle, shirl, sperl, sperle, swirl, twirl, whirl

and my favorite, unfurl

There once was a song 'bout a boy

Who played every day with his toy

He'd first make it stand

With a flick of his hand

In a way that would give him much joy

Then after, he'd fold it away
[Mom] Perhaps I should have said useful rhymes :-)

His mom would scold him, and say

"You're just so self-centered!"

"Come on, get re-entered!"

I do not care to know how this one ends, thanks.

"And finish our last Wordfeud play!" [cfm]Have you got a pervert mind?

The flowers that bloom in the spring, don't you see? Moving swiftly on - I agree with cfm, the last couple were satisfying only one or two *ahem* 'players'. And neither of them were me.

[pen] Agreed. But that line needs shortening. Hope you don't mind if I go:
The flowers that bloom in the spring
Are saluting the birds on the wing

While the bees and the bears

Are putting on airs

and dancing the mambo to swing.

When needing three hots and a cot

I recommend my favorite spot

On Dartmoor it's found

Right behind that black hound

and it's ten quid up front for the lot!

An inscrutable girl from Japan

Went the distance with old Jackie Chan

But the man from Hong Kong

(Still wearing his thong)

Took one look at her mother and ran

I fancy a third cup of tea

But the caffeine does not fancy me

It gives me the jitters

My heart patters and pitters

And worst of all, I'll have to pee

I've three hundred papers to mark

Before I go hunting the Snark

So I'll tick here and there

(Which is all I can bear)

And the rest's just a shot in the dark

On Friday, my mind starts to wander

To racing my gold-plated Honda

Or a ride on my Harley ?

Singin' "Work" by Bob Marley

And dressing a bit like Jane Fonda.

Cross-dressing at weekends for fun

Was a priest's habit, dressed as a nun

To add to the thrill

One more layer of frill

Transmogrification is done

We all seem to relish cross-dressing

It's the sauce for much delicatessing

Once you've chucked on a frock

You're no longer a jock

Which you'll soon come to learn is a blessing

Many good poems lately, in many locations :)

My uncle has just lost his wig

Exclaiming, "I don't give a frig!"

He's now on his knees [Have to divulge that I'd rather hoped that Condiments may have driven the last limerick [given that cross-dressing has been done to death on these sites]. Having been gifted 'relish' and 'dressing' - 'sauce' was an obvious choice, as was 'delicatessing'. Vinaigrette, mayonnaise, aioli, mustard, chutney and ketchup, salt and pepper, etc. could have all played a part. Clearly - I was *overthinking* it. UK - you're fired :-)]

Begging, "Dear Chalky, please"

Miss Piggy

"Bend over and grunt like a pig..."

[MP] Coward. Name yourself.
So Easter was just wet and cold

[pen] Astonishingly, 'twas not I
My chocolate's all covered in mould

And the poor Easter Bunny

Has a nose red and runny

He's really a sight to behold!

There once was a maiden so chaste

She thought cous-cous had too strong a taste

And as for harissa

Her tongue and her kisser

Fell off, so she had them replaced

I'm wondering what I should wear

Three-piece suit, Highland kilt, or stark bare?

Birthday suits are not fancy

But, according to Nancy,

There's no need to iron or pair

It's been left on the side for a week

And quite frankly, it's starting to reek

It's time to progress

And clean up this mess

So let's finish and go take a leak...

It's Monday and morning star rise

What a bright day - now take my advise:

Take a lungful of air

Jug a two week's dead hare

And don ye a pirate disguise

The forecast for Sunday is wet

That won't stop me -- it never has yet!

I'll be down on the beach

Attempting to teach

The old dog some tricks for a bet

The problem with thinking too much

Is that it give one an ache in the crotch

Cos my organ for thought

Have mind which is fraught ... what a heap of twaddle #channelingRosie

But it's positive thinking, as such...

I have never been able to dance

Do you think you could teach me, perchance?

With both my left feet

I'm willing to cheat

And show how they do it in France

According to French legislation

Islam is an alien nation

But in banning the veil

They'll let every male

Get horny on seeing an Asian.

My legs are all twitchy today

They simply will swivel and sway

I've gone weak at the knees

Ye Olde Gong Farmer

I don't think it's the fleas

If you don't mind I'll fold them away

[UK, R, P, S, R] Applause

I'm truly beginning to rot

Oh golly, I've been such a clot

Trench foot has set in

Reverend William Archibald Spooner

I act like a cretin

although I will vow that I'm not.

Reverend William Archibald Spooner

I'm known for mixing my words

You may sample sweet coffee or turds

So stor a fart

Go tick up a part

And fly like those bautical nerds

A candle-lit dinner for two

Is a popular thing to do

So on Valentine's Day

I will ask if I may

Puckoon

"Is it washing or drying you'll do?"

A trip to the beach might be nice

The sun, sea and sand do entice

With bucket and spade

And a brolly for shade

Topped off with a nice strawb'ry ice

The brain ghosts I see are all green

And they all want to cut out my spleen

Which I have been venting

With zeal unrelenting

Though rarely can it be seen

A phantom is haunting my lung

And now and then spooking my tongue

It wafts through my larynx

Via my nasopharynx

My ability to speak has gone bung

If you see a spectre abroad

It's likely to be Our Sweet Lord

But if the spectre has horns

Then, as the day dawns,

You'll see it's Nick Clegg - best ignored.

[Rosie] neat ending :)

Behold this condensed apparition

A product of dark superstition

Alive or undead

Or all in your head

Like a thumping nocturnal emission. (Chalky) Tu es très gentille.

Applause please - the wraith has ignited

My interest in Scunthorpe United

A team which just lacks

Defence and attacks

HM Chief Inspector of Lines

Thank goodness my love's unrequited.

*

audience applauds Tuj's finale*

*points out sins of omission*

And now, on the thirteenth of June

I wonder if it is too soon

To start Christmas shopping

Or New Year bed hopping

Or flying my hot air balloon

The Eurozone's future is dodgy (Chalky) Deliciously disgraceful.

As My Big Fat Greek Wedding, so podgy

The drachma and lira

May soon reappear, a

Sure sign the economy's stodgy

I have some pesetas indoors

Which Angela Merkel deplores Last one v. good esp. CdM & Softers.

"Ein Volk, Reich, und Geld!"

She recently yelled

And on cue - Georgios Samaras scores - ... they still lost 2 - 4 though :(

Last night as I shaved my left armpit

The razor was causing me harm - shit! ... rising to the challenge

As it scraped of the hairs

And with them my cares

I took a large nick from my tit! coat!

Softers - would've been even better as 'darn tit'

[Chalks] You can't get a man to curse a boob - they love them too much.
It's green eggs and ham every day

Or it would be - if Seuss had his way!

nights

His prandial obsession

Drives one to depression

And it ain't even kosher, oy, vey!

Sliced thin, on rye, with brown mustard

Or served with fish fingers and custard

Whenever it's served

It's still quite absurd

Not to savour a plump baby bustard.

Thai chicken and lemongrass soup

A melon - a nice cantaloupe

No, give me baked beans

(And you know what that means!)

We're back in the flatulence loop

I'll settle for boeuf a la croute

Served up in a black leather boot

Cooked rare, by a wench

That I'd like to clench

Resplendent in her birthday suit.

Kofta curry and pork vindaloo

Are the height of cuisine – in my view

But then, I am fond

Of a good Sussex Pond

And the minds of Essex girls too

[Raak] Ooooh, I haven't cooked one in ages. Time for a revival I think :)

We eat and we drink - pee and shit

Then we do it again -- is that it?

SImons Mith

Well, also, there's work

And the ultimate perk

Reproduction - that helps a bit.

While sipping my coffee-to-go

I got stuck in ten feet of pure snow

But, when cometh the spring

Caffeine gave me a zing

And already I've started to glow

I’ll switch to the gill- and the fin-mode

Justine

'cause we've water all over our main road

The Met Office says

It's raining for days

So my hair-drier's hit "overload"

My strimmer has broken - alas!

Please borrow my strummer, it's world class!

It does make a racket

'Tho' it cost me a packet

And the one thing it baulks at is grass.

I'm struggling to find any meaning

With offering Free Window Cleaning

To some it's quite clear

It's because you can peer

up the nethers of anyone leaning.

There once was an elderly goat

Who'd spawned several offspring of note

The Grand Druid of Wales

Often ran off the rails

James Jones

Then got stoned and sowed out his wild oat...

There once were five spicy girls singing

But now they sound flat and look minging

If Take That re-formed

Then let us be warned

Alarm bells should be set ringing

There once was a Samurai hero

Whose score in swordfighting was zero

Though lacking in skill

He managed to kill

Both Lulu and Helen Shapiro. Bastard!

There once was a girl that could sing

(or so she once thought) anything

But once on the "X"

She lowered her kecks

And sang "Desert Song" a la Sting

The thing about artisan bread

Is its guaranteed freedom from lead

Instead you will find

That it makes you go blind

So I'll eat Hovis® instead

A vacation that is what we need

To drink beer, and cider, and mead

Relax by the pool

Eating gooseberry fool

Did anyone bring any weed?

I woke today with a sore throat

So I chewed on a piece of fried stoat

And to my surprise

I've a three octave rise

In a ditty I sing with my goat

This soup, with its noodles and chicken

Is good for the ill and flu-stricken

And even, some say

Keeps the lurgi at bay

In need though of Rum to un-thicken

When treating a bronchial infection

You'd better obey this direction

To draw out the phlegm

Just shout out "A-hem!"

And prepare for social rejection.

When drawing your last living breath

Here's what you can do to cheat death

Grab the Grim Reaper's scythe

With a gesture most blithe

Shouting, "Is this a knife?", like Macbeth

If you can't tell a knife from a spoon

You'll get classified as a loon

So just use a fork

When screwing a cork

And, yes, you are a buffoon

I uncorked a cru Beaujolais

With a vigneron from Régnié

But in getting my glass

I fell on my arse

Hidden text

( M Logiciel) I am disappointed, as they say, that you have not pointed out that the first two lines don't rhyme.

So I guess I won't drink it today.

Down at the pub when I ordered my beer [M Rosé] c'est un petit point contesté, peut être.

[Software] By no stretch of poetic license does that scan into a limerick. I suggest:

Software - Down the pub when I ordered my beer

The barman said, "Be of good cheer!"

You're mighty good lookin'

Hidden text

[Rosie] It's a subtlety that I think even French poets would get away with. Similar to 'glass' and 'arse', which don't rhyme terribly well for the majority of English speakers (even in England). It all worked out to be a good Limerick though, IMHO :-)

You do really good cookin'

So just maybe you should work here!

Who in their right mind would say

That duckin' an' divin' don't pay

For evading the law

(as a thug, thief or whore)

(not to mention the great CIA...)

I've invented a new kind of chair

It seats both you and your confrere

Your discreet tête-a-tête

Might make you be late

Scansion Police

Hello, hello, hello. What's goin'on 'ere, then?

Because you can't go anywhere.

[Scansion Police] I read cfm's line as " it suits both you and your confrere." Sort of fits.

My village is threatened with Lidl

Let's hope the development bid'll

Fall foul of the planners

Or else protest banners

Will foil the town councillors' fiddle

Next week on the old village green

Is the festival of the obscene

We'll all go sheep-tupping

Unless we're one-upping

Then we'll shout: Hello Wean - you're so mean!"

Hello Wean, I have heard you've been here,"

Hidden text

Rosie, Software, Raak and Gil: I like the Lidl one :-)

Is the phrase that we don't want to hear

Because of the hype

James

And our pumpkins are ripe

Wean

Understood, then it's time to disappear.

We end up being eaten by worms

(It's in the conditions and terms)

If the deal's terminated

With the worms left unsated

We're reborn as a bunch of mean germs.

I can't help but think that that my wife

Is going to cause me more more strife :o)

Her insatiable needs

For thick Harris Tweeds

Have virtually killed our sex life

Tomorrow I vow that I will

Tell Starbucks their product is swill

And then let's all partay

With mugs of real lahtay

And stick Howard Schultz with the bill

For those really hard to reach places

And other quite difficult cases

Try this handy new cleaner

Her name is Georgina

Employed on a no clean, no shag basis.

If out to eliminate bacteria

You need to eschew all hysteria

Calmly use bleach

On every and each
And then your milieu will be clearier sorry sorry sorry

[pen] fair enough :-)

In London it's raining today

Elsewhere it's flooding they say

But I haven't seen yet

A great spouting jet Surprised the word "posterior" didn't come up in that last one ;-)

Like the one at Trafalgar Square Bay...

I eat a durian each day

And I get them for free, do not pay

And while they are stinky

Like my wee willie-winky

They increase your libido, so-say

Some lines are real close to perfection

I've written one for your inspection

And if you look here

To get a good steer

There's a clue to their mode of erection

In a market in old Timbuctu

An old friend I by chance bumped into

And since we were two

We knocked up a stew

Of camel and goat and mantu

In a hotel in snowy Siberia

Where the rooms and the beds are inferior

To those in Bulgaria

Where the toilets are airier oblig.

Your breakfast is free from bacteria... (...they've frozen to death...)

In a tuk tuk in wet Kalimpong

You can go right -- or you can go wrong

Sometimes up - sometimes down

And in some parts of town

Get whatever you like for a song

Now soon a new year will arrive

It divides by three but not five

Sum up its digits - that's six

Then put them into the mix

What pleasure from sums we derive!

Hidden text

[irach & software] I didn't want to start the new year off on a pedantic note, but If you delete "up" and "Then" from your lines, respectively, they scan much more nicely

With unbroken sunshine today After two weeks of time off work - and rain every day

I'm going to come out and play

Work can wait till next week

Meanwhile let us seek

Many reasons to laugh and be gay ...in honour of Softers' coming out.

I sing 'cos I'm glad to be gay playing along

And a friend of the late Ronnie Kray

Through the songs that I sing

Haven't brought me much bling

I did meet Sinatra one day!

Next week I'll be joining a band

Of barbarians, roaming the land

'Cos I've signed for Port Vale

(I'm told they serve ale)

But their football is a bit bland

Next year is the Year of the Snake

I'll hit the dammed thing with my rake

Before I'll let it crawl

Up my lavat'ry wall (Softers) Were you thinking of

Hidden text

My friend Billy's got a ten-foot willy/And he showed it to the girl next door/She thought it was a snake/So she hit it with a rake/And now it's only six foot four.

?

Eve

And admit that it was my mistake....

In Eden the apples are ripe

And of aphrodisiac type

So I baked a nice pie

For my hubby to try

But the proof of the pudding is hype

'Hail fellow! Well met!' said the pastor

(Of true bonhomie he's the master)

With a wink and a grin

He absolved me of sin

Confession just got somewhat faster!

On the first day of Februar-ee

Thirty eight things my love gave to me: [C,R,S,p,P] Nice.

One was a jewel

And one was a tool

Which he inserted delicat-lee.

American football's confusing

Or possibly downright bemusing

Most don't touch the ball

Though players are tall

Superb owls are much more amusing

She is wise as an owl I've been told

Her knowledge is quite manifold

On the subject of voles

She impresses the proles

Though that's hardly one of her goals.

When Richard the third called for 'horse' something topical for a change

'Twas past time to bargain, of course

You can't use a nation

For experimentation

Though many do so, and by force.

I'd like to replace "experimentation" with "negotiation" in that last limerick. :-)

They're preparing for this year's Grand Prix

We'll be fighting on land and at sea

From Le Mans to Dubai

Yeongam and Shanghai

And what's left of the old Aral Sea.

Oscar, my dear, your red rug

Is home to many a bug

Tho' to you it is cosy

It's hellish for Rosie

Who itches and cannot get snug.

The slanderous comments above

And the full implications thereof

Are herewith rescinded

In manner long-winded

Devoted to brother and sisterly love...!

The Conclave's elected Pope Mary,

Who plans to be Jesus's fairy

A pontiff with wings

Who can do magic things

But the giveaway is - she's so hairy

Bugger - insert quotation marks around "she's" if you would

The puff of white smoke tells us all

That the popemobile's just hit the wall

But look out, now it's black! (...the smoke of course...)

Is Benedict back?

Or a reincarnated John-Paul?

:

When tales are retold you will know

That the heroes of long, long ago

Committed great deeds

While riding their steeds

Yelling "Woe-Hi-Di-Hi-Hi-Di-Hoe!"

In the Alps they are yod'ling a lot,

While their cheese gently boils in the pot

Such stereotyping

And Franco-Swiss griping

Is likely to get someone shot

Italians, in gen'ral, are charming

Their generals, though, are alarming

Their finances are scary

Signoras faces so hairy

Which is why generals find them disarming

But the Greeks are, truth to tell,

Descendants of heaven and hell .. a tad short on footage Pablo but think we can make it work ...

Just now it's the latter (Chalks) 'E fough' itza peon-unny recipe, dinny?

Though only a matter

That Cyprus will go down as well

A Monegasque makes a fine friend

With big pots of money to lend

He dresses in green

And bows to the queen

So you'll see where it's all going to end!

Are you ready to start your new life?

As side-kick to old Mack the Knife

But as opera's go

This threepenny show

Is more suited for somebody's wife.

Sorry, for got the line break!

I chanced upon Lady Godiva

Who said; "If you'll give me a fiver,

I'll cut off my hair

But I hope you're aware

on a horse, I'm not such a good driver.

At luncheon with old Friar Tuck

We dined on a stew of braised duck

We saved the skimmed fat

To give to the cat

And using the catflap, she stuck!

Thenceforth to Maid Marian's for tea [last line .. worth the wait. Nice one SM]

A generous hostess is she

A Battenburg cake

(The marzipan's fake!)

Goes well with a glass of Chablis

In the pub with my friend Little John

I thought 'What the hell's going on?'

For he'd got out his staff

And then just for a laugh

He poked it up my sit-upon.

Lovely!

Will Scarlett's a rum sort of fellow [PPNcR] Heehehehehehe

"Come chase me!", he's oft-heard to bellow.

Then he shins up a tree

And cries, "Come, follow me!"

But sadly they're all far too yellow

At the wedding of Alan-a-Dale

The couple wore matching chain mail

Her chastity belt
Could hardly be felt
And his, back-to-front, had a tail.I can hardly believe I wrote that. Inexcusable

[pen] I can. Excusable. Funny

The green-fingered Sherriff of Nottingham

Grew cannabis plants, and was potting 'em [pen] Digusting! I hardly know where to put myself. Somewhat like Alan-a-Dale, it seems!

When in burst the cops

And said "Are these hops?"

He said "Yes, well done for spotting 'em." (Ladies) Can't have too much femfilth.

Sir Guy of Gisbourne gets quite cross

When you stand in the way of his hoss

"Begone, varlet!" he'll shout

"Lest I give thee a clout"

"And into my dungeons you toss."

Now Robin, that man with the hood

Claimed his motives were thoroughly good

Steal from rich, give to poor

(Unlike Osborne and more)

Then make merry with maids in the wood.

And as for that wicked King John

Who thought that the battle he'd won

Would earn him respect

Instead, he got decked

So the limerick game could go on

In trying to unscramble an egg

I soon spent an arm and a leg [Quen] Liked that - good finish!

My marbles got lost

My salad got tossed

And I noticed you'd emptied my keg ...

Though she knew he was called Jack the Ripper

And she'd heard what he did to young Pippa

She couldn't resist

A hazardous tryst

So thank God he got stuck in his zipper

[M, C, S and P] Nicely done, if I say so myself. Let's crack open some pre-war ginger beer!

This bottle of old ginger beer why not?

Was brewed on the banks of the Wear

In nineteen-oh-two

In a stevedore's shoe
No wonder it tastes rather queer *flees*

The worst thing to say to a Swede

Is to ask him: "Just how do you breed?"

His reply, you will see

Just between you and me

Involves ABBA and herrings. And mead!

The sunburn that glows on my neck

Will keep my libido in check

And apart from the spots

That I've got by the lots

There's the fact I'm a banking exec.

But really, the public should thank us

We are, after all, quite high rankers

And we haven't, quite yet

learned the alphabet

but we're primo at being bankers!

This first line should set us alight

Make us shiver, if we've done it right

And further additions

or even omissions

Well made, yield the greatest delight.

Rise up, all you left-handed folks!

And publish your best rated jokes

But say nothing sinister

Or I'll call your minister

And believe me, that threat is no hoax.

A monk and a rabbi ate dinner

of kerosene and of paint thinner

This combustible fare

Consumed on a dare

Made one nor the other a winner.

Nice finish, Kagje.
A day full of procrastination

May contain brief bouts of fascination

F'rinstance with clips

Of wiggly hips

Or else some discombobulation wipes brow

A chihuahua and terrier cross

Decided that he was the boss

So the dachshund got fired

The golden retired

And the rest ... ? Not one gives a toss.

There once was a cat from Andorra

Whose whiskers grew morer and morer

Till this Pyrenees mog

(Real name Quentin Hogg)

Belted her one - she got sorer

When Mitzi took umbrage, she aimed .. u s a perhaps? ..

Through her sights at the one man she blamed

His scathing reviews

Was not ment to amuse

But some other fellow got framed.

Never admit you're from Chatham

In New Hampshire, the same goes for Stratham

But if you're from Bath

Yer good for a larf

When it started to rain in Bath

Ummm, shall we finish the previous Limerick first?
Never admit you're from Chatham
In New Hampshire, the same goes for Stratham
But if you're from Bath
Yer good for a larf
Unlike Strasbourg (once Argentoratum)

When it started to rain in Bath

I outgrabe like a mome rath

But my feeling of whimsy

Was fleeting and flimsy forcing attempt denied

As I fled from the borogove path

I once lunched in Stow-on-the-Wold

My starter was greasy and cold

The main course inedible

The bill was incredible

And the walls were all covered in mold. Sorry about that not finishing last time. I guess one should not play when one is extremely tired, even if for odd reasons, one cannot sleep.

nights

I once gave a farmer a lift [Phil] I am insulted! The Strasbourgeois are lots of fun!

He just had some garlic, and whiffed

I deployed my ejector

To a vertical vector [nights] I'm sure they are, given the quantity of beer brewed there. I was simply struggling for a rhyme :-)

Then launched into orbit quite swift…

Tomorrow the Moon will return

From its weekend out with Saturn

nights

While the moon was away Excuses, excuses... :)

The earth did decay

So perhaps it is best to adjourn?

There's nothing as fast as a cheetah

So says my feline speed-o-meter

But if you want slow

(So slow it don't show) internal rhyme alert...

Watch lichen — a sloth record-beater.

Today, I am dyeing. It's black... (re-dying faded black clothes black)

As a glass of black mild Nutty Slack

Its minute albedo

Is just right for sado- ...that was a tricky one, Rosie.

-lin, Matching my nice Chapeau Claque.

(gil) Yeah, a bit clever-clever, but there's speedo, libido, paedo, lido, credo, Toledo.

All my clothes have been eating by moths

And my shoes have been slothing by sloths Making a feature out of the quirk of KS's line

And as for my hats

They're all nested by bats

So they think I've been haunting by Goths

We are what we eat we have heard

So I'm mostly tomatoes and curd

And I'm a nice curry

I eat in a hurry

And for me, olives are the last word

The practice of oenomancy

Is one that the Romans did fancy

By sharing a cask

An enquirer could ask

Which actions were safe and which chancy

A strapping young fellow named Clancy

When working the clubs was called Nancy

He strapped while she stripped

And flopped while he flipped

For the clients who all took his fancy

That all-soft'ning o'erpowering knell

Means you're on a journey to Hell Not you, m'dear.

Slip into the mire

To a fate that is dire

And our trip down the hill ´s going swell.

There's a gap in my force-field of love

Through which demons and succubi shove

It's a worm-hole of lust

And romance turns to dust

Which flies to the clouds up above.

This journey could go on forever

And is surely not worth the endeavor

For when we arrive

From a very long drive

There's been a change in the weather

There's a feeling - or is it just me? -

That this verse will stop dead at line three

I'm not one to doubt.

If I reincarnate as a puffin

I'll mulishly call myself Muffin

On the island of Lundy

My partner and me

Will nest-build from navels with fluff in.

We have heard that the winner takes all [T, R, R, S, B]Excellent, free drinks tonight!

But don't fret should the wealth start to gall

Cash can't bring you joy

Unless you're called Roy

But it's better than bugg*r all

[Softers] If I may be so bold - you are significantly short-syllabled and arrhythmic in both your last entries .. thought you'd sussed this game by now ;-)

Inner lining

Marc - The Scansion-class this Fall semester

Will be taken by the head jester [Chalks] I disagree, it does work.

The Rhymer's a clown

The jester will frown

At the way that these matters obsessed her.

Hidden text

It's a jestess.

Jestess

All our efforts to set the bar higher [Softers] Hope we can agree to disagree. ;-)

have us jumping from skillet to fire

Where we are consumed (Funny Girl) You're right. I'll have a word with him next time he's over.

All pedants presumed [Chalks] Naturally :o)

Class dismissed and now also ceasefire.

Debate is a most healthy thing

At the Darby and Joan Club in Tring

It helps them stay young

And grease up their tongue

So with their friends they can swing

In Somerset, Dorset and Devon

They're always in bed by eleven

But the people of Hants

Are just putting on pants

And they won't be back home until seven

In the flat agricultural east

All cult'ral activity has ceased

The turnips are ready

So tasty but thready

Fit neither for man nor for beast

So The Ashes will grind to an end

With rain being England's best friend

And Broady and Swann

Turn their sprinklers on

As they've more than a penny to spend No takers all week? Ah well.

While spending an evening in Kettering (Chalky) We can lose with grace, but not win.

Perfecting my copperplate lettering

I blotted my book

(As the locals say,"fook!")

Putting paid to my hopes for its bettering.

My computer has not crashed today

Unusual for Windows®, they say

And although I'm pleased

I know if I sneezed

My screen would collapse and turn grey...

Good morning all poets it's time

To celebrate autumn in rhyme

Write of 'mellow' and 'fruit'

And rabbits to shoot

With apples to pick in their prime

But what do you say of the rain?

Well, it's wet and it goes down the drain

It hangs out in pools I thought 'puddles' would be too hard to rhyme. You're welcome

And obeys fluid rules

Before long it will come back again.

The rain in Spain, so they say

Mainly falls on the plain every day

But the Sierra Nevada Some very dubious climatology here.

(the one in Granada)

Is fine all year round, so "Olé!"

While enjoying a Café au Lait

I was asked, "Are you well?". I said "Très!"

Mais le cuillère est bent

Et la tasse 'as une dent - just googled le cuillère to check my schoolgirl french. Ooh la kama sutra la!

Mais le goût, je vous dis, est OK.

*applauds*

*Applauds the limerick; winces at the Franglais*

[Phil] Then I reckon we need more practice...
Aujourd 'hui, le naming de parts

comme les fruits pour le making of tarts

Will commence avec plum

Bien sur, mon ol' chum

Mais ils font tous nos dents plutôt schwartz Aha! See what I did there.

Heddlu'r llinell

Demain machen wir ein gateau

Mor drwm â'r Tibetan Plateau (Welsh) "as heavy as the".

Ik heb een gros pain

Horror vacui my brain

Und el pastel est dans my zapato

Enough now let's get back to work

Said the dull-witted jobsworth from Chirk

Then off went th'alarm My Dad's from near Chirk.

At 5 on the farm

So he got himself up with a jerk

The jerk I got up with today

Is not worth the money I pay

He costs seventeen pence

I must have no sense

I hope he'll just go away

The mocking the trainspotter suffers

In anorak stood by the buffers

The trains passing by

See the young 'spotter cry

"What's 'Get a life!' mean, you duffers?"

Young Pablo just timed to perfection

His disdain for social rejection

He avoided a snub

But this is the rub

And we offer him full time protection.

Today I think I will shuffle

My coats - both trench and duffle [Chalky] young???

- graze the floor as I walk

And muffle my talk

And fill my big mouth with fine truffle.

Glanting rain and sprale winds are forecàst

In Zeroia the land of my past

Where spallion fields grow

Fine cronx in the snow

And my abras are blooming at last.

Her knickers were bloomy and pink

I smiled, she laughed with a wink.

And as she bent down

A fart rent her gown

And that's what's done drove me to drink

Campari, Pernod, Gin and Whisky

All in a pint glass rather risky

Add a few whites of eggs

To stiffen the dregs

Scoff it down, and feel rather frisky

Your challenge this Tuesday is thus:

Take a flock of wild geese on the bus.

When you reach Euston Square

Disembark with a pair

As the others quack "What about us?" bugger me, talking geese.

The students in British Lit

Should study the format a bit! K-S - you're a syllable short, m'dear!!

The syntax and grammar

Cause newbies to stammer

Plus most think that Shakespeare is shit.

There once was a Viking called Jeff

Who chiselled the first letter F

When faced with the second

Distraction soon beckoned

And instead of Jeff, he was Jef.

Hidden text

Hey, Edward Lear always used the same ending word for the first and last lines of his limericks.

An orthodox rabbi called Skuld

Discovered his cocoa had cooled

He said to Verðandi

Your blowtorch comes handy

But it's strange that it is bejeweled.

Your challenge this Tuesday is this:

To be pleasant to your little sis

But as for your brother

Your father and mother,

Just carry on taking the piss.

There once was a man from the States

Named Billy - but he had No Mates

Except for Tim Nice

And Leontyne Price

Which kind of restricted his dates

A tale of forbidden papayas It was the idea of a restricted date that got me thinking on these lines

And lovers in heat on the playas

Gave way to the sun

Which ruined the fun

This UV is just sent to try us.

Your challenge this Tuesday is risky

To make it to lunch without whisky

And restrain your desires

To start small office fires

And entice the young temps to be frisky.

On Wednesday the sun will go nova

We'll be done to a crisp; it's Game Over

So let's party all week

Give our fun cells a tweak

And spend the final few moments in clover

My teeth are all falling apart They are.

They're going to hell in a cart

So chewing's a chore

And biting's a bore

It sucks being such an old fart

Elizabeth

Being a New-comer, I am always seeking online for articles that could assist me. Many thanks! %KW% Elizabeth http://adw7.ru/user/izlxybtidbt/

Inner lining

Marc - There once was a most thankful Russian

Whose life was once saved by a Prussian

But along came a Spaniard

In a style most maññered

And Olé! El Ruso was blushin'.

Sir Cornelis Maartenszoon Tromp

Was the first to cross Zuiderzee Swamp

But his dugout canoe

Sprang a leak, maybe two

But he got there and arrived in some pomp. well, with a name like that....

I've discovered a whizzo new game

I just need to think up a name

There's only one rule:

You must play like a fool,

And never make two moves the same.

I suggest that we start with this line,

"There was an old man of Loch Fyne"

And then for the second,

A rhyme which is reckoned

Would be absolutely divine!

Allow me

The Doctor's re-written the past

And Who else but he could recast

But the Great Originator

Or the grim terminator

(We're desperate to make this series last)

There once was a cool desperado

Who claimed t'have written The Mikado

On the opening night [Rosie] I'd have put the "'t" next to Mikado

Ann

He just started to fight

With a G & S afficionado

(Kim) I had no particular reason to imply boreality. Isn't this sound really just a glottal stop attached t'' previous word? You can't really alter title o'' work. There ought to be a symbol for it.

Christmas is upon us

'Oh no it's not!' we shout Oh no it's not.

oh poop. I've glow-wormed rather than limericked. Ignore my post.

"'Tis! 'tis!" responds the chorus It was glow-wormed from the start

Moniker

Software - Now Christmas is soon upon us
Penelope - 'Oh no it is not!' what's the fuss
Raak - "'Tis! 'tis!" all in chorus
Santa - My brains may be porous
Moniker - I refuse these five lines to discuss.

Or:
Christmas is upon us
"Oh no it's not!" we shout
"'Tis! 'tis!" responds the chorus
So that all came to nowt

There once was a Limerick class,

For the bad rhyme and rhythm dumbass

When it came to the test

They duly confessed

'Twas unlikely their scansion would pass

Inspired by the moon, as I am

To snort and to rut like a ram

On this cloudy night

I gave Boris a fright

And stole his tart filled with yam.

Hidden text

Not a great line but...

Today is the day when it's done

I've dared be tattooed with a pun

This indelible mark

Is a jolly good lark

And a tribute to my only sun

Jacob the Third from Dunlevy

Drove round the block in his Chevvy

His miles-per-gallon

Hidden text

Broke this small poem

Hidden text

And now it just won't rhyme at all 8o)

Impressed Jimmy Fallon

Body dangling from self-hoisted petard, the spare lanyard from which goes to make up a horizontal rule

But the rhymes that he chose were not clevvy Dunlevy? Chevy? Purlease!!! *repeats rant about poor rhyming and scansion from MCiOS*

[pen] It's enough to make one go out on a bevvy.

(Raak) I need little persuasion.

There's a man outside with a beard

And a cap with three bobbles so weird

He says he's from Spain

And arrived on the train

And he'll stay till the weather has cleared.

[pen]

Hidden text

"But were poor 'cos the car was so heavy" was ringing in my ears when I wrote the American talk-show host into the rhyme.

My brother is sporting a hat

In which he just looks a twat (Phil) I'm sure he's not.

Hidden text

He's not, but he does look one in the hat. I saw a photo on facebook this morning, and that was precisely the 2nd line I had in mind

With his knob-ended cane

And arched eyebrow so vain

He looks smart but is still the same brat.

My cuckoo clock seem to be hatching

A plot for a plague that's so catching

The mould in its thatch

Is almost a match

For the lepidote nose you've been scratching.

[Chalky] Thank you for the new word I have learned today.

The lexicographical treasures

Onomatopoetical pleasures

Neological joys

Of semantical toys

To be found in thrasonical measures.

Let us dabble and stolch in the wood

And not do the things that we should

Let us shout, run and laugh

With the riff and the raff

Robin Hood

Rob the poor - let's get rich, understood...?

I wonder who's kissing her now?

Probably death - poor cow.

All

And also who's teaching her how

To make our rhyme scheme more lowbrow

Scansion police

There once was a withered old rose
Whose weak mind was set writing prose
And the non-scanning lines
Gave no points only fines
And the reason for this no one knows…

I still wonder but will never know

Just where did my other sock go?

It's gone - it's a myst'ry

That stocking is hist'ry oblig.

I'll wear odd'uns - d'yer think it'll show?

Random Line Generator

There's just enough time left I think

'Fore the cosmic heat-death, for a drink

A cocktail perhaps?

Or a sherry? Or schnapps?

Or maybe champagne that is pink?

"I am not one of those" - said miss Lola

"Who drinks all that much Coca-Cola"

"I much prefer Sprite"

she said, "though I might

give a miss to that batch marked 'Ebola'"

Hidden text

Clapclapclapclapclapclapclapclapclapclapclapclapclapclap

(Projoy) Too late; it's gone viral.

What Stevie said. I spent half an hour last night trying to thing of a 5th line. Perfect!

I really must try having sex

With a new miss - I don't miss my ex

Mrs. X

Come and take me tonight?

While my bloke's out of sight?

Sorry, I'm rat-arsed on Becks.

The inmate in cell number six

Has some rather strange facial tics

His lack of straight face

Ensures him a place

With many famed physical comics.

Really?
I play bass guitar in a band

And I'm using both left and right hand

Which one does what

Is not easy to spot

I'm the fastest jazzman in the land!

[Phil] I also play bass in a band.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RvkZSm68JLE&feature=youtu.be
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eOLmX3PBHS0

[Kim] I don't. I don't even play bass, but I do have a valid poetic licence :-)

One day I was drunk and I sang

But the words got mixed up with slang

I cursed and I swore

And I said, "Ruddigore!"

And what is much worse, cried "Fertang!!!!!"

Three dogs, a goat, and a bird

In a curry; we are not inured

Let's all dine elsewhere

On a hamster eclair

That's preferably shaven - not furred.

If we are what we eat I'm an ox

That has lived in a small cardboard box

Been steeped well in beer

And thus of good cheer

While I am a bagel and lox

I'm sorry, I can't hold your coat

I'm trying to de-worm the goat

If you hold it for me

Making sure it won't pee

I can shove the pill right down its throat "I'll see what I can do, Mr 'erriot"

Today there is wind, rain and flood

And tomorrow brings storm, hail and mud

The day after, thick snow

With a strong Arctic blow It ain't gonna happen, folks.

The year (well, thus far) is a dud

It pains me to point out the truth

But you're getting quite long in the tooth

If I might be so bold

You're quite startlingly old

But no longer the once-uncouth youth. forsooth

I won't tell you a secret I know

Instead, watch this pantomime show

The clue's in the name

Of the bellowing dame

But the answer lies deep down below

A logician, a priest, and a Scot

Was the Reverend Hamish McStott

A writer and thinker

And moderate drinker

Yet best known for his huge you-know-what

Now what is this thing that's so big?

Because bragging is so infra dig

An item of dress?

Or a way to impress?

No, an enormous big flying pig

I exist on a diet of fruit

Which I store in a Wellington boot

The sludge in the toe

I gobble like a sow

Whilst grunting chacun à son goût

I'm really enjoying this pie

Though it has left me wondering why

The ingredients list

Was so widely dissed

What's wrong with dried tadpoles and larvae of flesh fly? (a big and nourishing pie it was...)

When apples and cherries we mix

Something we do just for kicks

We make lemonade

To sip in the shade

And whittle ourselves cocktail sticks A bit lacklustre. Eyes'n'teeth next time, guys'n'gals, eyes'n'teeth!

It's an actor's poor life that I lead

I can barely afford smoking weed

While learning the Bard

Is not all that hard

It would help if I first learnt to read

I've told you a number of times

That I'll never be caught for my crimes

I'm so cunning and smart

That they call me a tart

Pooh

Moi? I'm the Macavity of Mimes For when a crime's discovered then Macavity's not there!

My mother is losing her mind

Because of a contract she signed

In which she agreed (Pooh) Does that include your own crimes of scansion?

To always wear tweed

And a necklace of smoked bacon rind

We shall soon start the season of Lent

When the rules of abstention are bent

To make us believe

It is now time to heave

BMI by some fifty percent... http://www.seriouseats.com/2011/01/culinary-ambassadors-swedish-semla-fastlagsbulle-pastry-bun-lent-shrove-tuesday.html

Still my Body Mass Index is low

My ribcage is always on show

My skinny white arms

Are the least of my charms

Whilst the best may be felt down below

The means by which pussycats purr

Are shrouded in mys'try and fur

Have they motors inside?

Or a resonant hide?

Do they blend a buzz with a whirr?

I've a large pot of organic glue

That's made from the hooves of zebras and gnu

‘Endangered’, you say ?

I've seen herds in Calais

Where there's lions and elephants too

I've a question for someone who knows

About pobbles and their lack of toes:

Are they toeless all day?

Does it hinder their play?

At darts, do they get extra goes?

[P,P,N,R] delightful stuff :)

It's true what they say about poker

That they play with a pack with no Joker

That your face must be blank

Like a true mountebank

Lose a mill? Oh, that's just mediocre.

If you play at pontoon or roulette

Make sure that you use your lorgnette

To distinguish between

The black, red and green

And to ensure that you place the right bet

The Ides of March did for Caesar

As noted by some Stratford geezer

It turned out his mate

Finished forth his sad fate (et tu, Brute?)

With a staged and dramatic crowd-pleaser

While oop in the north, sat Macbeth

Ignoring the portents of death

When Birnam Wood came

He was right in the frame

In the long run though gave up his breath...

It is springtime - or so I was told,

So why is my sun lounge so cold ?

The air from Siberia

Makes the temp so inferior

Now fetch me a servant to scold!

My lawn's taken over by moss

But really, I don't give a toss

Roll on the next drought

When the sun is about

'cause tonight we will play the lacrosse...

There are the rules how to pick up a girl

Typo

There are rules how to pick up a girl

Keep back straight, bend at knees, never curl

When she's hoisted on board

Don't lean backward or for'ard

And present with Les Pêcheurs De Perles

But beware if you pick up a man

In a dress, thigh-high boots, and a tan

For that thong will conceal

That his balls made of steel

Are prosthetic and his real name is Anne.

Transvestism is such a drag

That seldom of it do folk brag

They prefer to disguise

Then show up with surprise

When you push them down off of a crag!

Once again we are fooled by the spring

And the thought of the joys it will bring

Ooh, I dunno

Saint John

It's a fact I don't know
'cause they've stepped on my toe
And I think a lament I will sing.

I think we have heard it before

And we'll hear it again, I am sure

It is on the "tee-vee"

In the tabloids, I see

And followed on You Tube what's more

It's April the First, take great care

For Lurkers and snipers beware

And old men in coats

Selling tuppenny groats

Who, furthermore, really aren't there.

There once was a farmer who said:

Pooh

"By golly, I'd come out ahead

if I planted my corn

at the first glimpse of dawn

Instead of just lying in bed." oblig.

There's a terrible price to be paid

For allowing the curtains to fade

For your neighbours will see

All your efforts to pee

Into cans marked "Homemade Lemonade"

Tomorrow's the day before Sunday

And in turn, that's the day before Monday oblig.[C, p, S, R, T] I larfed out loud.

It is, so to speak

The end of the week

Which means that today is today??

Let's hope that it is not too late

To find someone to go on a date

'Though with whom they'll go

It is best they don't know

Because Ringwraiths have just sealed their fate.

While dancing an Argentine tango

With the chair of my favorite quango

I feigned mild surprise

When offered third prize

In the World Championship of fandango...

I'm dancing far better than singing

For the music's so loud my head's ringing

With my clogs flying high

And a slap on the thigh

My suspenders buttons are pinging

As I waltzed with a gorgeous young filly

Who had won more than twelve Prix Caprilli

Her hooves got entangled

(They were polished and spangled)

And the judges' mien turned quite chilly.

I'm in need of a half-pint of tea

Milk and five sugars for me

With my pinky outstretched

In a posture far-fetched

I'm an upper-class builder, you see

I am sure Easter Bunnies lay eggs

I am sure that the French eat frog's legs

But grenouilles à la Pâques

Mixed with various tabacs

Is surely against EU regs.

This Friday is s'posed to be good

'Though why, I have ne'er understood

Getting nailed to a tree

Is not my cup of tea

And He would agree, if he could. Matthew 26:39

Palm Sunday, it came and it went

And I on tequila was bent

This was not a good way

On that most Holy Day

To do what you can't during Lent.

For breakfast there's chocolate egg

Then a cute Easter lamb's roasted leg

For tea chocolate bunny

(Bought with your chocolate money !)

And as 'nightcap' a chocolate beer keg...

We don't have resources for that

When brayed by an aristocrat

Sounds more than just mean

In fact quite obscene

And confirms that the speaker's a prat.

My airship has sprung a small leak

It hisses away as I speak

And we're losing our height I thought it best not to use 'altitude'

Shed weight as we might

'Tis probably best to say 'Eek'

My bungee just needs a small tweak

To cancel its nerve-shredding shriek

When I leap into space

All my fears I efface

But there might be a small "trouser leak"

To Ypres we journey next week

Me grandad's gold watch we shall seek

He was killed by a bomb

(Though he died with aplomb)

Whilst winning a game of bezique

There might be just time for one more

Ere we stagger toward the pub door

Which just won't keep still

And the floor lean uphill

And my balance do sheem rather poor

Oh, show me the way to go home

It's quite near the Milleneum Dome

Where gentrification

Improved the location

And you'll not see one garden gnome.

I showed my heart to the doctor Notes: 1. (c) L. Cohen; 2. Stressed on "I", "heart", and "doc". 3. Not the easiest rhyme, but plenty of possibilities.

But my advances seemed to have shocked her

My wild EKG

And advanced Housemaid's Knee

Meant my chances were slim to verkakte

So I chose a complete transplantation

But the doc heard me say "a castration."

I've a great sense of loss

But I don't give a toss

Let alone an insemination.

Here I stand with my new bits and pieces

Two curbs and some liquefied fæces

The doc says I'll be better

With bowels that are wetter

Though my waistline constantly increases...

When pond'ring a change of one's gender

And update to parts oh so tender

Make sure that you choose

To gain, not to lose

All the bits that will scream "I'm a bender!"

If gard'ning were truly a joy

It would not make my back scream out "Oi!"

And the bloody great weeds

Which nobody needs

Would leave here and plague οἱ πολλοὶ.

αι'β ντισαιντεντ του τιτχ μαισελφ Γρεικ

underlined

There once was a line so correct

Even Rosie found if perfect

It's yet to be written (Softers) What's come over you? That line is so awful

Oh dearie dearie me ... yet another dreary self-referential limerick which has already been cocked up. Thought we'd moved on from these. Well I now qualify as a grumpy old woman so I dare - without fear or favour - to start anew!

Chalky - I once met a Somerset farmer

I confess, he was rather a charmer

Or should I say "she" ?

For we failed to agree

It's a gender dysphoric drama [Rosie, Chalks] perhaps I should have spelt "it" correctly and hyphenated per-fect, I think it scans then.

I can fit a whole pint in my mug Hastily re-written to avoid leaving "pint" at the end of the line!

Straight-sided, curvy or jug (Softers) Yeah, all right. :-)

Beer, cider or tea

Or fermented sheep's pee

And it pours with an audible "glug"

I've decided to teach myself Greek (which is what that line of squiggles earlier was a transliteration of)

Be a scholar, and not just a geek

But my transliteration [Raak] Ah, I couldn't for the life of me work out what the 2nd word was supposed to be. Why not use a δ (delta) instead of ντ?

Because in modern Greek, δ is a voiced "th", and "ντ" is used for the "d" sound.

Brings much obfuscation

So now a new teacher I'll seek. Sorry for screwing things up but my neighbour (who is Greek) told me it was an incorrect line without sense...

My friend said her love was platonic

I said "Yeah, and my screwdriver's sonic!" [Raak] Fair enough. I only did Ancient Greek.

Night and day we then screwed

Yet all sex we eschewed

Our IKEA decor is hedonic.

A weekend, a flat-pack and you...

O, think of the things we could do!

Crawl around on the floor

With the one you adore

Seeking that ill-usive screw

When it comes to assembling a bed

It will help if you stand on your head

With your tool in your hand

You will soon make it stand

And may finish your screwing - 'nuff said...

As I lay in my bed, fast asleep

My eyebrows endeavoured to creep

Through the hole in the floor

Seeing quite a bit more

Than Tom could when he too did Peep

The Energy Minister said:

"Uranium decays into lead"

And wind is erratic

So let's be Socratic

Shall we burn solar panels, instead?

The barbecue season approaches

Ah! The smell of fried ants and roaches!

The carbonised meat

The gale, the sleet

And the jibes from the toffs in their coaches.

Burnt meat is my favorite dish!

But have you tried decomposed fish?

With its fragrant bouquet

(Which will not go away)

It's really quite edible...ish.

I'm checking the facts about you

But Google's removed quite a few

You've got something to hide!

(Slipped a rozzer in snide ?!)

Never mind, I'll recheck with Yahoo!

Is that drone flying overhead yours?

And if so - would you kindly press 'pause'?

Or 'fast forward', at least

For I don't like that beast

The Bakerloo Line (brown, like the stains left in Lurker's drawers)

Or the stains that it leaves in my drawers.

This summer I think I will go

In search of the midnight sun's glow

So north I will trek

Dressed as a Dalek

On skis - but they're just for show

This year it's the beach for me!

Sex, sun, sand and the sea!

Then clubbing all night!

'Till I wake, with a fright

, A rash and a bed full of wee

The best lines are so lavatorial

True since times immemorial

This toilet-based verse

May sound turgid, or terse

But can ofttimes sound quite professorial

On my birthday: a new record from Yes Trudat.

I've poor musical taste, I confess.

These aged rock bands

With their wrinkly old hands

Are mostly now dead, at a guess

[Pablo] You'd be wrong though. 8o)

The genteel folk of Milngavie

Have a predisposition to spy

While the neds of Bearsden

Keep mum in a pen .. haven't a clue what you're all on about ...

And the nellies of Niddrie just cry. Me neither.

This, or something like it, is what was intended:

The genteel folk of Milngavie
Are enamoured of actor Bill Navie
They see him on telly
Their legs turn to jelly
He's even a hit in Mumbavie.

Falstaff

Maude was a Tourette's Syndrome duck

Who's offbeat quack made people say "f*ck" [Rosie] Sorry. *shrugs*

She'd then nod and twitch ... preferred ours -sorry Rosie ;)

This web-footed bitch

Was she fowl mouthed or just full of pluck?

I turned on the water and found

Some colombian roast - freshly ground

Mixed in a pot

With some added shallot

Its taste is both piquant and round.

So what on the menu today?

A Gooseberry/Duck Beak paté!

A durian mélange

Served with whisky blancmange

Mixed together at 10 quid a tray

The Chorus

Olé!

Hark! Hear the words of the chorus

For speech, set to music, can't bore us although I draw the line at Monteverdi's "L'Incoronazione di Poppea"

If Thatcher had sung

Of the plight of the young No idea where this one is going to end up

She'd have seemed less like Tyrannosaurus or

Hidden text

She might not have seemed quite so dolORous

Bravo! Good finish.

Throw the switches now Igor, be quick!

Give the Tesla coils just one more flick
Hidden text
[Stevie] Phew! I was so unsure of that last line. Thanks :)

My morbid creation

Gets a tingling sensation

And a very enjoyable prick.

There's a part of me just wants to die

For the life of me I don't know why

But I can't really ask it

Why the yen for the casket

Affects ulnars and both radii.

I'm feeling it deep in my bones Good finish, Rosie

It's time to change all my ringtones

Their Wagnerian gloom (pen) You are nice lady.

Bears a portent of doom

That I don't want to hear from my phones.

Oooh I liked the way that one worked out. Nice going, everyone else.

This morning as I had my shower

The lack of shampoo made me glower

So I grabbed the carbolic

Blamelewis

lest I turn vitriolic

Now my black hair smell like 'Sweet and sour'.

Motivation will come from within

Get that right and you're certain to win

Check Facebook and Twitter

As you sit on the shitter No point warning you in advance of that, was there? You all knew it was coming. Far too hot for a coat.

Rise up and be strong! Or fall in.

By unceasingly talking in riddles

You can get away with most fiddles

But the clear light of reason

In this rainy dry season

Should help exclude most muddy middles

Last time I regressed to the mean

I created a terrible scene

'Cos I was once bimodal

And hacking the code'll

Make everyone turn red (or green?)

Encrypted persistence persist

Just try saying that when you're pissed! UK English meaning of Pissed (n.) in a state of intoxication through alcohol.

Saliva will flow

Whilst your cheeks flush and glow

Inspissated inspectors insist!

A great deal of effort is spent

To decide what to give up for Lent

And if you give up

Giving up have a cup

of Darjeeling with Rhum, max percent.

I can feel there's a storm coming up

'Bout Qatar and the World Cup

Some dodgy dealing

And wheeling (with feeling)

So FIFA's corrupt, is it? Yup. I have taken the liberty as this one had become a bit of a wallflower.

A guinea pig once came to stay

So I made it at home with some hay

I plied it with wine

Which it thought was divine

My best bottle Grand Cru Cabernet.

A guinea pigs life must be hard

As they tussle for scraps in the yard

Competing with cats

Hiding from vampire bats

While reciting the words of the Bard

I once bought a pig for a guinea

'twas pink and so thin - almost skinny

But feeding it well

Soon caused it to swell

And now it won't fit in my mini

I once had a skirt-wearing pig

For convention it cared not a fig

For instance, its snout

would run like a spout

And its butt was enormously big.

While preparing my sugar cured ham

I thought I would use damson jam

'Tis both piquant and sweet

And I do love to eat

Jam-ham a-la damson, by damn!

While watching a Colin Firth flick

He started to get on my wick

His monotonous voice

Reading novels by J a m e s J o y c e

Make a portrait of me being sick [Marc] Just "Joyce" would have scanned better, perhaps?

Marc :-)

I don't want to get out of bed

I'd rather stay tucked in instead

Being all safe and warm

And farting a storm

Leaving blankets and sheets widely spread.

As the autumnal mists descend

O'er the lea the kine their slow way wend

The ploughman homeward plods

Elderly

While worshiping his Gods

Thomas Gray

And leaves the world to darkness m'friend...
http://www.poetsgraves.co.uk/Classic%20Poems/Gray/elegy_written_in_a_country_churc.htm

Oh goody, more fog o'er the land

So thick that you can't see your hand as people say....

Don't use your fog lights would seem to be the rule, especially for silver or grey cars

And don't dress in whites

But drive home at 60 as planned

Underliner

As a senior player I think,

Young Rosie should give up the drink

Such libelous chat

Ignores the fact that

He's not drite the thunk that you quink

I once had a wee dram too much

The courage it gave me was Dutch

Hidden text

Hello, pen.

I confronted a copper

And riled him up proper

By booting his hat into touch

But now I am perfectly merry

'cause I'm soaking my muesli in sherry

I have gin with my chips

And a song on my lips

That I learnt from a young Mary Berry

I pogoed again, down the road

Jumping just like a green, horny toad

Quite why, I don't know

But it does go to show

With long springy legs I'm bestowed

"Up, up and away!" the man cried

"Gravity, it shall be defied"

With a mighty great leap

He collapsed in a heap

Levitated - and finally died...

I could do that just one more time

But this time perform it in mime

With music by Sting

Or Wag-n-er's ring

Or "Buddy, can you spare a dime?"

I have no idea what this could

have been meant to do, nor what it would

But I think that it might

expire by tonight

unless otherwise stated - stay for good.

If it is dark during the day

[Gietrud] Excuse me, but I think your metre needs adjusting
Giertrud - If it remains dark in the day
Penelope - There'll no chance for us to make hay

[penelope] Excuse me, but I think your metre needs adjusting:
penelope - There'll be no chance for us to make hay
Stevie - Then again, I'm no farmer

But still quite a charmer

Hidden text

Believe that, you'll believe anything.

And I lay the damsels - if they pay...

The wine of the day is Chablis

But waiter! My soup! There's a flea!

On my spoon there's a bug!

There's a wasp in my mug

I wonder what lurks in the brie?

The beast in the cheese is extinct

But the rat in the crackers just winked!

And the worm in the peas

Has knobbly knees

So I wonder: Is L.S.D. linked?

[Stevie et al.] Jolly well done!

Dear Jedi, I'm writing this note:

I think we should all have a vote

About using the Force

(Caref'ly of course)

Or a bucket to bail out this boat

[Pablo] "Force" was an unkind rhyme to offer another

Be gentle when off'ring a rhyme

No oranges please; it's a crime

And please let it scan

Just as well as it can

Then forever will bells and gongs chime!

I have planned to take up my qi gong

And this, I don't think, is too wrong

My hara is sound

And both feet on the ground

Wong

I can feel there's new blood in my dong.

Mister Wong in your eyes I can see

That though old, you stand firm as a tree

'Acupuncture' you say

Is why you stay

[Software] Might it be "the reason" instead of "why"?

up all night on just one cup of tea.

A buxom showgirl from Brazil (trad)

Said her boobs had got valves for refill

The left dispensed beer

But the right looked quite queer

And t'would only produce rancid swill

Red Barrel, Red Barrel,
Red Barrel men said "the same again"
Took a fistful of flavour
First class beer!

[Stevie] I'm considering buying this glass and installing it in my local as "Phil's glass", for purely ironic purposes, as the pub has dozens of CAMRA awards.

[Phil] Sweet Theakston's on a Bike! That's an ugly glass without the logo!

Last night as I sat in the snug

A banking clerk gave me a hug

So not every banker

Is riddled with rancour

But was nevertheless very smug

In a small pub in Cornwall I found

Some scrumpy for under a pound

This dangerous tipple

Rots the brain, so UKIP'll Not to be opened until the end.

Hidden text

Be buying ev'ry voter a round.

Make sure that the Union is drowned...

"Mister Nigel, I think you are wrong,"

New Deal

Claiming 'Arbeit macht frei' was a song
That the Nazis once sang
When a Jew they had hang
And that Cameron now sings along

It's December and Santa's awake [New Deal]Why not try http://www.rab.org.uk/mc/mc.php?tid=138#bottom ?

to the fraudsters and makers of fake unifini..

X-Box Ones, PS4s

And it sure gives him pause unfinity or thinks

to think of these crooks on the make.

My old Van Der Graaf's on the blink

With a megavolt spark that is pink

It's stopped making static

Its behaviour's erratic

And the noise... you can't hear yourself think!

Is there some sort of shindig next week?

If so, then the outlook is bleak

I've maxed out my card

From the pub I've been barred

Nonetheless I am off to take a leak...

If you walk 'bout a mile heading west

Wearing naught but a grotty string vest

You'll be stopped by police

Wearing vinyl and fleece

Who'll say you're improperly dressed.

Five four three two one LIGHT THE FUSE!

Firework legislation we'll abuse! (Happy New Year all!)

As the district burns down

We'll be out on the town

Runnin' wild - crawling pubs - hit the booze.

The New Year has brought gloom and dismay

For Charlie Hebdo, so they say

Life goes on - nice and swift

Though for most somewhat miffed

Live on, but die another day. Mercy killing, if you'll excuse the phrase. The stalling of this limerick for a week possibly supports my hypothesis that there are better channels for serious commentary on terrorist atrocities. (I come here to be entertained and show off.)

The chief mistress of Louis XV (Fifteen, n'est-ce pas?)

Had much better legs than his Queen

And as for her bust Well done, pen; it was becoming a right clunker.

If it hadn't been trussed

T'would have sagged somewhere south of her spleen

Finance, it's all Greek to me

And it's mostly a Greek trag ed ee

But the show must go on

'Tho the coffers are gone

Next up: The Great Greek de fault ee.

I once scaled the Rock of Gibraltar

To meet with my bride at the altar

My ardour then wilted

I said somewhat stilted

When I found that her real name was Walter

I once strolled the beaches of Wales

Consid'ring successes and fails

With the thought in my head

"Am I better off dead?"

So I jumped off the cliff - left no trails...

My dear mortal coil is unwound

By a process of reason unsound

With a match, a gas leak Not until it's over

Hidden text

should be simple to seek but alas twas not so as I found

We'll fly high, with a shriek

And five miles away, hit the ground.

In my an-nu-al HR appraisal Careful now...

I was told that my tone is too nasal

So I blocked up by doze

With some sweat from by toez

Ad disguised duh sbell wid widge hazal

In order to play the bassoon

You must warm up from April to June

But when playing the flute

You just give a quick toot

and blow (but you'll be out of tune)

My tax return's well overdue

But HMRC, they can stew

The money I owe

For my 'petite Chateau'

Has been spent on a cruise. Toodle-oo!

Last night as I went to 'de loo

An owl in the dark said "too-woo"

If you're hoping to pee

Please don't wee over me

Or I'll spray you with my number two. ( thanks, Mother)

Last night, as I dreamt of my beau

My face was suffused with a glow

'Twas not mere desire

Hidden text

'Twas the ceiling afire, World war two era wiring, you know

Not til it's done.

That kindled my fire

'Twas the treasure concealed down below.

Last night as I grouted some tiles

I tested my masculine wiles

Hidden text

So this is unlikely to end well.

I said to my wife

Please pass me that knife

She stabbed me, but I was all smiles. Muahahahahaha!

Last night I was out of my wits

As I searched the bird-table for tits

All I found was some seed

And something to read It's a bit nippy out, I will take a coat if you don't mind...

-in the chaos of life, it all fits.

This bright Monday morning I'm on

Benzedrine. I'd take more, but they're gone.

Still, life is just dandy

Cos I took them with brandy or shandy

For synergistifica-shon.And rather poor rhythm.

I can think - I can read - I can write

My classification is "bright"

But I just can't do sums

So I'm put with the dumbs

Which I think of as rather a slight.

Top marks for the last one!
But you're boring, you're boring as hell

You're up there with Wisty, E. L.

You drone on and on

'Til all sentience is gone

What is left is just unpleasant smell...

What a pain to have bagged the first line again

For some that's a terrible strain

It challenges the wits

And is very annoying following Software's lead

But turns out alright in the end

There was a young man of Dundee
Who was stung on the neck by a wasp
When asked if it hurt
He replied "Not a bit,
It can do it again if it likes"

One of my favourites. And now, back to our usual program...

How much do you want for that horse?

(I can see you have "Foxhunt Remorse")

Shall we say thirty quid?

That's my last final bid

(three dots and sev'n dashes in Morse).

Huzzah! Pop'n'crisps all round!

"Excuse me", I said to this bloke

mARC

"Can you lend me a bob for a coke?"

He looked in my eyes

(That's a trick I despise)

Said "No, here's some pot you can smoke."

I say! What a hideous hat!

What on earth possessed you to wear that?

'Snot a hat, it's a mitre

And it feels so much lighter

Pope Marc the second

Than the halo i wear in the Vat'...

It is Friday and life is so good

Can't be bothered to work, though I should

I'll sneak out to the pub

For a pint and some grub

And drink more than I normally would

An evening in front of the telly

A South Bank Show rerun (George Melly)

A pizza, some beers

Then a rerun of Cheers

And a great rumbling sound in my belly

A protesting voice I must raise

Against your lascivious gaze

My face is up here

So please transfer that leer

To a smile that confirms my boobs you praise

[Marc] I think you were too keen to get your boobs into that last line. I can imagine you're proud of them, but I think you could have tried harder to make them fit. Shocking scansion there, miss.

There was a young fellow from Hull pronounciation ad lib

Who thought that the place was too dull

So he signed on a ship [pen] Yes, I think you are right, there’s much too few lines about boobs nowadays

Donned a pink, silken slip

That would show off his boobs to the full

While donning my pads, gloves and box

Hidden text

Cricket, if you're confused.

I was shocked when I found my boll-ocks If you can't beat 'em, join em, eh Marc, you mysoginistic arse?

Though my jockstrap is big[pen] I know you are rude and now you have proven to be ignorant and stupid as well, what a pity

It's stuffed with my wig

A banana and two pairs of socks

[Marc] If you must post smut (which, it seems, is all that you have to offer) at least be decent enough to make it rhyme and scan. It's probably too much to ask for it to be interesting, clever or funny as well.

A true sanctimonious mind,

Isn't needed - you'd have to be blind u.s.a.

Black Widow

Or denying the truth

To not know what is couth

So let's all be nice and refined

Refinement, I have it in spades

Hidden text

I fucking do.

Well, at least if I look through my shades

I'll see Rosie's demure

And raise it to 'pure'

As she wafts through the sun-dappled glades.

Again, poor Rosie's changed sex

Was it drugs and the knife, or a hex?

No, it's all in the mind

Though it's still undefined

But not if I lower my kecks.

Hidden text

Look away NOW.

I'm thrilled with the latest advance

In captivity, they've bred a Wild Pants

It is white with red spots

You can play 'join the dots'

Though its parents may well look askance.

In Midsomer a man has been shot

There it happens more often than not

It's a great place to die

'neath a clear English sky

Do I really think so? Not a lot.

Thank god! Morse and Lewis are here! Netflix Binge declared.

So tremble, ye villains, with fear!

For Oxford is filled

With forensically skilled

And detectives that drink lots of beer

Oh well played everyone! Crisps all round!

And as for Inspector Jack Frost

I fear that his marbles are lost

Though when bending the rules

And suffering fools

That old bridge too far he had crossed.

When you sit on the rail breaking wind (A nice sailing trip anyone?)

Having drunk too much beer that is tinned

Spare a thought for the mate

As you shamelessly deflate

Though my nose and my bum are thick skinned.

While sorting the junk in my loft

The rafters felt distinctly soft

When I trod on a joist

I felt something moist

That gave way the moment I coughed

"It's a very fine object," *cough cough*

It's starting, though, to go off (gough ough)

The pong goes right through

One's sinuses to

make stuff you'll spit into a trough.

A little tidying up:

"It's a very fine object," *cough cough*
It's starting, though, to go ough
The pong goes right through
One's sinuses tough
make stuff you'll spit into a trough.

The maximum speed of a tortoise

Can never keep up with a porpoise Grabbing the only rhyme.

With turbot installed

And the shell well close-hauled

It'll speed up until it has caught us

However, the rate of the hare

Approximates that of a bear

If your math's a bit wonky

I'm certain that Don Qui-

-Xote will make it all square!

Hidden text

Raak: Mortise?

Oh Lord, will you please tell me why

The cyclops has only one eye

Yet still remains jocular

Despite being monocular oblig.

And can't watch 3D movies on Sky.

There was a young fellow from Reading

Whose cat just lay sleeping and shedding

amounts of black fur

Fell out at each purr

And he sold it to Hypnos as bedding.

When at the computer I find

I'm not in control of my mind

So Cntl-Alt-Delete

And get to my feet

And go for a jog to unwind.

Egad! From the taps just a drip This one in sympathy for Raak. Limerick Aid

No bathing - no stiff upper lip

I'll be a bit whiffy

So I'll dip in the Liffey

Just as long as no gals see me strip

It's never the greatest idea

To start a fight on Top Gear.

Now Chris E's the new face

A ginger disgrace

Can you hear a toss given? Not here. Sorry chaps! =)

We're on strike 'cause our wages are low

And we're dealing the bosses a blow

They'll have to cough up

And feed our new pup

Or next we'll run a go-slow

Is the Euro to go down the pan?

The Greeks would cheer that to a man

The Drachma'd be back

Get a meal for one sack

Alexis Tsipras

While the rest of you pay, that's my plan!

"Can ya lend me a bob 'cause I'm broke?"

"Being totally skint is no joke"

Haven't eaten for days

(My "austerity" phase)

"Here's a quarter of rum and a coke."

There was a young lady from Thame trad.

Who decided to go on the game.

When she spread out her wares

She provoked several stares

Now she's ninety - still on - with no shame...

Now please sharpen your pen and then write

Of the joys of a Flexifoil kite

Or just jot a few words

On its danger to birds

And the warnings of flying at night

The last time I ate a hot curry

I had to dash off in a hurry

My bowels were a-bubble

In the air smell of trouble

And then the inevitable slurry

well done P,B,S,M & R!

On the way home last night - a kebab

Then to A & E for a jab

Seven stitches then home

Wrapped in urethane foam

And then off for six long weeks of rehab

I'll pay for my meal with some rupees

E'en here in Stockton-on-Tees (KS) -You'd have got better rhythm if you'd just left out the word "some".

This Chicken Madras

Spiced with pure Sassafras

Will bring me down to my knees

/hr seems not to be working.....?

Lineman for the County

Allow me

I really must protest dear sir

The print on the label's a blur

The tin may have leaked

'Cos my kitchen, it reeked

And smelled like some rotten liqueur. (Rosie . . . um, nope, sorry . . . "Lines 1, 2 and 5 of a limerick should ideally consist of three anapests each" My first line has three anapests just like a limerick should . . . now, as for Stevie's line, it doesn't).

Compare and contrast with English as she is spoke and limericks as they be scanned:
I REAlly must PROtest dear SIR: correct metre, but "PROtest" is the noun.
I REAlly must proTEST dear SIR: "proTEST" is correct, but the metre is trying to be a different verse form:

I really must protest dear sir
This printed label's just a blur
The tin it leaked, my kitchen reeked
And smelled like déclassé liqueur.

I'll PAY for my MEAL with some RUpees: correct metre and word stress but difficult to rhyme with.
I'll PAY for my MEAL with some ruPEES: extraneous "some".
I'll PAY for my MEAL with ruPEES: correct metre, and the stress in"ruPEES" is also correct.

There once was an expert who knew [Raak] Many thanks dear Sir for the lecture, we needed it!

Fuck all about making a stew [Raak]

Hidden text

Sorry, the stress doesn't turn it from noun to verb in my neck of the woods and it sounds just fine when I say the line out loud. I've never heard anyone call them pro-TEST songs either. So, all-in-all, Thrrrp! 8oP 8ob 8oP

The bucket of gravy Wade in, chaps.

Supplied by the navy

Had a frighteningly bright crimson hue.

"We've defeated the Spanish Armada,"

Cried Drake with consid'rable ardour

We chased them round Britain

So now they're once bitten [Raak]

Hidden text

I think KS was claiming the line should be read as 'I'll pay FOR my meal WITH some ruPEES', which is (sorry KS) a very odd reading, given that it requires stressing propositions that would most naturally be the least stressed words in the sentence. As for Stevie's line, my sense, which dictionaries appear to confirm, is that 'protest' as a verb can be stressed on either syllable; I'm not sure if the stress on the first syllable is primarily Am. Eng., but it might be. That said, I do--like you--find the stress on the second syllable to be more natural for the verb.

They'll realize that we are much harder

It's Monday and i'm feeling bored

So I pull the emergency cord

The ejector seats fire

And as I rise higher

"Where's my parachute?", Oh dear Lord!

Those men in their flying machines

Eat nothing, so it's said, but baked beans

And for their own part

The beans will impart

With brown stains on the back of their jeans...

Marc (Sorry but rhyming safe seem to be tricky)

Are you sure that this airplane is safe

Are you sure that this airplane can fly?

If it's safe we can certainly try

So shall I take the stick?

Get aboard and be quick

silver linings in the sky

Just don't tell the pilot! Bye-bye! [Marc] chafe, strafe, waif, Ralph? :)

The dark clouds that are blocking the sun

Remind me just what I have done

As Guildford lies flattened

And seemingly patterned

It's a shame it can't be undone

I've wiped out the Jewel of Surrey

Chasty

She was hot - kind of cuddly and furry

With a come-hither grin

And a rather square chin

So don't click that link in a hurry

If Guildford's a jewel, what's Dorking?

'Bout 4 hours away, if you're walking.

But if you're on a bike

There's a pub you might like

So step on! Stop standing and gawking!

I thought that I'd broken my wrist

When I swung at your mother, and missed

As my fist hit the wall

The last thing I recall

Was her cackling at me "You're pissed."

So here I sit, in the ER

With my elbow stuck in a jam jar

The sixth hour has passed

I'm having a blast

While the doctor slips off to the bar That's probably not fair and could cause a storm of protest, but all for the sake of scansion and mirth.

The weirdos who live on the hill

Have put all their pigs on the pill

So no little porkers

Will get nobbed by rogue orcas [Softers] Oh, I do so like a challenge...

And think what they'll save on the swill.

The chaps at Piers Gaveston think

That life is all orgies and drink

Countess Marg'ret de Clare

Had better beware

Lest she'll end up in the clink which she did, BTW

In a small, central part of my brain

Is a place ornamented with pain

It's the fault of my mother

'cause she killed my big brother

And it's likely she'll yet kill again.

A student of madness would think

"Funicular! Crucible! Blink!"

or perhaps, "nadge my toes"

Or "nobody knows"

That I normally crap in the sink.

I've bought myself a winter coat true

It's made of weasel, fox, and stoat I think we've just invented the iambic limerick. Lines of 4, 4, 2, 2, and 4 feet and the usual rhyme scheme.

It's wholly organic

So no need to panic

The collar is made from the arse of a goat Adding a few syllables as a reasonable compensation

The good folk of Accrington, Lancs

Were often mistaken for cranks

They spun round and round

With a murmuring sound

As their only football team tanks

This island is home for the night

Although it's a quite gruesome sight

The ferry has sailed

The banshee has wailed

And I'm stuck on the Isle of Wight.

There's a rumour that's doing the rounds

That my head makes peculiar sounds

That's 'cos it's hollow

And so, when I swallow,

There's a noise like the baying of hounds

I have heard there's dog on the moon

Whose bowl is in fact a spittoon

His kennel's a crater

Around the equator

His cries won't be heard 'til next June

I hope that my bonfire will light

So I can fry bangers all night

With a can of cold beer

I shall quote lines from Lear

"O, thou side-piercing sight!"

"Guaranteed from boot-to-bonnet!"

That's Clarkson's first go at a sonnet

It could have been worse

If he pictured a hearse

With luck he could have be on it

I awoke to a fine morning sight

Of the hay in my barn set alight

The insurance will pay

For my next holiday

Due in just a fortnight

I simply don't know how to start

My new sixteen horsepower go-kart

I yanked on this string

It went 'wicketi ping'

And then the machine fell apart.

So I cussed and I brandished my spanner

In typical Clarksonian manner

But Jeremy and Kelly

(Them two off the telly)

Blob

Have ordered the parts from Fermanagh

The business of ordering parts

Proceeds both in fits and in starts

Look at the book

Ring them up; they're in Nuuk

And deliver by husky-drawn carts.

When eternity fits in an hour

I barely have time for a shower

But when deadlines draw near

I quiver with fear

And withdraw to an ivory tower

My Cumbrian fell is a-flood

My "carpet"'s now three feet of mud

The rain doesn't stop

Needs more than a mop

And the switch on my ark is a dud

Will it rain now for forty more nights?

Will it reach the top rain record heights?

Because if it does

We'll call out the fuzz

To claim that we've got human rights.

So Christmas has come back around

And Santa, I've heard, is southbound

With his over-full sleigh

He may brighten our day

As he slips in with barely a sound.

Oh my dearest I long for your kiss

Though I fear your technique's hit and miss

Chasty

Your French kisses I love

Monique

They are just hand in glove

Armand

And I do care that you are my sis

Farewell to a very poor year

The weather was shite, that is clear

So let us revive

The jitterbug and jive

And party with burgers and beer

I will not stand for whiny complaining

In spite of long immersive training

Though I must say it's wrong

To moan all day long

When the rhymes here are SO entertaining

So farewell then Bowie: bye Dave

You did all the genres, save rave

And for that, we're in awe

'Though our tear ducts are raw

For ecstasy beyond the grave.

Sometimes I cannot resist

Adding whisky to my shopping list

It goes on with the gin

Make our heads start to spin

As slowly we're getting pissed

Hmm.

It's time for a jolly distraction

Like Longleat or some such attraction

Or maybe we could

Stroll through Odell Great Wood

Watching grass growing slowly in action...

Then she said: "I'm lying in your bed"

And I think that butler is dead

So I said, "Call Poirot!"

But Mycroft said "No!"

"We'll eliminate the impossible instead."

To the greenhouse I summoned the cook

"Over there!" I exclaimed. "Take a look!"

"The tomatoes have rust!"

"The sprouts turned to dust!"

He's from Yorkshire, so said "What the fook?"

While I stood in the Post Office queue

And I hoped for position two

But the fellow in front ...careful...

With a snort and a grunt

Said: "I'm stuck. Who the hell spilled that glue!"

The cyan-ACrylate glue sealed his lips

Cook

On the table he had fish and chips

But unable to eat Hello Cook

His cod-and-spud treat

He studied the lunar eclipse

It's the year of the Monkey, beware...

That you dress with attention and care

And stop making faces

When you tie your shoelaces

God! You're not doing that with your hair????

In accordance with Standard 14

You must paint your front door in sludge green

Lined out in puce

Or else we'll reduce

The money for being Europeen

The good folk of Chorlton-cum Hardy

Were known for their love of bacardi

When applied to the skin

It was better than gin

And creme CeraVe - it's too lardy

The Burghers of Port du Calais

Have been whooping it up at the Palais

Now the jungle is flat

They think that is that

But more migrants will be there next day.

Last summer I swam 'cross the Channel

Wrapped in the finest of flannel

My expensive pyjamas

With their imprint of lamas

Were hidden behind a pannel.

There once was a fellow named Clark

Who was quite afraid of the dark

So he switched on the light

And got a great fright

As he found himself next to a shark.

It's due time that you upgrade your app

Or else you may fumble your snap

The latest UI

Helps you shoot on the fly

But the editing suite is pure crap

What time does the ferry depart?

Skipper Marc

The minute that I've found my chart

And topped up with diesel

And fed my pet weasel

But this is Condor and we're missing a part

The Andean Condor's huge wingspan

ex-ceeds the width of my fry-ingpan

And so to sauté it

I bent it to fit

Which spoilt its vocal range, or sing span. Dreadful.

The first day of Spring has just sprung

And I feel like a stallion I'm hung

I'll be frisky for sure

And with all my allure

I'll hide what Spring has just sprung.

Hidden text

Hey, Lear repeated words in his limericks

There once was a fella named Lear

Who said that he felt a bit queer

When asked what was wrong

He burst into song

And demanded I bring him a beer.

I've a problem with one of my glands

My prostate's come off in my hands

Just squirt it with glue

Then fixate with a screw

Then to hold it in place - rubber bands

There's a stock room of spare body parts

For my practice of ghoulish black arts

In the box labelled "Noses"

Nothing's smelling of roses

And some carrots, Jack Frost's private parts.

The question is free I've been told

But the answer will cost all your gold

Not "The Meaning of Life?"

"How To Murder Your Wife"?

No, it's down the river you're sold

"We are sinking, please finish your soup,"

"Use the loo - we mustn't leave poop."

And then take your turn

As the ship starts to burn

To play "Nearer, my God" on a loop.

It has eight legs! It's there on the floor!

How'd that Octopus get in the door?

It's fresh from the sea

And it's smarter than me

And my God it looks just like Al Gore!

In the land that we now call Iraq

They're proposing to place a blue plaq

On a house in Baghdad

A home for jihad

Where there once lived a young man called Raak

Can you eat up the rest of this flour?

It won't last much more than an hour

We must not let it rise

Or else its sheer size

Will swallow up Shipston-on-Stour

'Tis the 400th year of dear Willy

The bard not the whale, silly billy

After four hundred years

His oeuvre appears

So much better than Milli Vanilli
's

It's May and the sap is a-rising

The new cider looks most appetising

So come all ye drunkards