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The Obligatory Limericks Game Reincarnated
help
And so it begins....
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That stocking is hist'ry oblig.
I'll wear odd'uns - d'yer think it'll show?
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 textClapclapclapclapclapclapclapclapclapclapclapclapclapclap
(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
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
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
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

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:
"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
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
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.

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
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 textShe 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
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?
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
While worshiping his Gods
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
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 textHello, 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 textBelieve 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
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 textBe buying ev'ry voter a round.
Make sure that the Union is drowned...
"Mister Nigel, I think you are wrong,"

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 textshould 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 textSo 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
"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
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 textCricket, 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.
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 textI 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 textLook 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 textRaak: 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
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.....?
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 textSorry, 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...
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
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
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)
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
Your French kisses I love
They are just hand in glove
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
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?
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 textHey, 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
Lift up your tankards
(Whose contents don't bear analysing)
Through the blossom and meadows I dance
Gazelle-like I pirouette and prance go for it, pen
But, hid by this sedge,
Is my five fruit and veg!
And all of them produits de France
Well, that was an odd one. I hadn't expected that.
The world of Gerard, Count of Nice
Was described in this nice press release:
A Master of Biscuits
Despiser of Triscuits
In quantities from "un" to "six". Sorry [pen], let continental-themed weirdness abound. Nevertheless a stylish finish from [Pablo]
[Meadow Dancing pen] I expected at least one person to post about not wearing any pants. I was going to on line two but thought it would be a better punch line for line five.
In the city of Aix-la-Chappelle
Danced Penelope, like a gazelle
Is that Stevie - both are nude!
In his hand - gee that's rude!
I just hope that they don't kiss and tell
While I was tending my garden
I received from the Queen a full pardon
Writing long lines that don't scan at all
Sent the Sovereign right up the wall
Causing her stance on such infractions to harden.
An infinite number of monkeys
Assisted by five EU flunkies
Rough-drafted a treaty
UK rules for graffiti
To reserve it for registered junkies.
To work out the square root of pi
Please first the last π-digit quantify
Then by taking the log
And a sly sip of grog
You'll be fine - just bluff your way by.
It's one and a bit!
When time, space, and knowledge combine
With superior shape, form and line,
One ought to be dazzled
Or even brain-frazzled
By the stuff that's produced - it's all mine!
When you think you are ready you're not
And the things that you got, you ain't got
So live while you live
'Cos life is a swizz
What you've not got can fester and rot.
Could this chicken be up to fowl play?
From my vantage point, hard to say
It does seem inclined
To sneak up behind
'Til a cock crows and gives it away
It wasn't a fowl 'cos he dived
A move, as in football, contrived
With a kingfisher's grace
To fall flat on one's face
And a red card from the ref is survived
Monday morning - the struggle goes on
To house-train my iguanodon
I'll be hailed as a wizard
Of incontinent lizard
Where a nose-peg's a sine qua non.
I've managed to train up a gazelle
To fart without making a smell!
This flatulent trick
Involves mud and a brick
An ending occurred, but I already had a go -
Hidden text- And it will win me the Ig Nobel!
And a diet of silica gel. (Bis) V. gentlemanly
As I looked out me window last night
I could not but notice a slight
Nasty nip in the air
Though the weather was fair
Fukushima was within sight.
When you're leaving Japan please make sure
That your thoughts and your deeds have been pure.
For the Shinto religion
Protects even a pigeon
From charges of being "manure"
I'm wearing a lightning conductor
Made of copper as per my instructor Stormy in Clogland, pen?
's advice. He was right!
Look what happened last night -
Prematurely discharged when I...engaged her in consensual acts of an intimate nature.
One red carrot I've offered my horse
It bit off my fingers, of course
But aren't horses veggie?
But they can be quite edgy
As my A&E can endorse!
Oh woe is me, I am undone
I thought it was comic and fun
But alas and alack
Everything has turned black
Can we undo the referendum?
So, what is he going to do now?
While waiting to take his last bow?
Will he come 'round again?
Or collapse in great pain?
Or renege on "resign is my vow!"
I'll resign again and again and again
The meaning of this is quite plain
What I've wrought is at hand
I am unfit to stand
If you voted for me then you're insane.
However, I may just bounce back
On my elastic hypocrisy track
As plan B starts fail
My brave face turn pale
I surprise the whole world with my quack.
Let's clear out the old, bring in new
And toss out the false, bring in true
Give us hope, peace and love
And harmony, aw'right bruv?
I've told you 'bout sniffing that glue!

Mercy Killing invoked.
Software - Let us clear out the old, bring in new
Stevie - And toss out the false, bring in true
Marc - Give us hope, peace and love
Rosebud - Olive branches - white dove
Peacemaker - And one day our dreams will come through.
What we need is a quick coup de gr?ce
Oh woe, it doesn't take extended character sets...
What we need is a quick coup de grace
And, should such a thing come to pass,
Don't say "Coo de Grah"
Lest you prompt a fnarr
Then we kill you with pure poison gas...
When you leave will you please close the door
Or the whole house will smell of your spoor
"daw ... spaw ... spaw ... daw..."
Your best friends haven't told you
That fungus on you grew
The day you came back from The War
Men of Harlech! The Zulus are risin'
Dead are heap'd with dying! (How surprising)
On to Bulawayo!
I'm declaring this one a bad steer on account of poor scansion and attempted forcing of people to type something about Ketshwayo instead of opening up vistas of wit. My fault not entirely
Down the church hall they're all on parade
To acclaim killer Stevie's blockade.
Harlech's W.I.
Hidden text[Stevie] what did you have in mind when mixin' races like that? That Zulu chief was far from my mind, it was more a challenge to see what could be found on the Bulawayo road, summat like: Men of Harlech, the Zulus are risin'//Dead are multiplying (How surprising)//On to Bulawayo!//Where the darkies we'll K.O.//Thus apartheid loomed on the horizon.
Went on an excursion to Skye
They sailed o'er the sea
For a nice cup of tea ...normal service etc
With a Talisker dram - oh aye-aye!
There was a young man from Prestatyn
Who saw a knob and pressed that in
A twenty-ton weight
Was released and fell straight
on his head - the result was to flatten
Way back in my Ministry days
In charge of Hampton Court Maze
I engaged Alan Turing
Thus firmly ensuring
That we're leaving the Maze walking sideways. (Alan didn't walk straight, did he...?)
Back then, I commanded the troops I think I'm heading for trouble with this one.
By Jove, I'd them jumping through hoops!
English as she's spoke
With a fnoot sull of coke
S'like impossible hooptroop de loops
How about:
Back then, I commanded the troops I think I'm heading for trouble with this one.
By Jove, had 'em jumping through hoops!
When out on parade
Primed on neat lucozade
They lined up in sugary groups
My afro is fulsome and pert!
Likewise my black rubber skirt Today I am a hovercraft
I'm dressed up so nice
My chin dabbed with Old Spice
You must think me a terrible flirt!
My tonsure requires some repair
It's become overgrown, here and there
In the cloister, it's said
I look like Judge Dredd
A parable I think is unfair.
Do you mind if I ask you to shave?
Yes, I do; I'm going to a rave
It's not OTT
To grow a goatee
In the shape of a stone architrave
Why aye man, Irn Bru's just the thing
At a "Spinners" reunion in Tring
It puts hairs on your chest
Which women detest
So go gay, and let MEN pull your ring. It's OK, I already picked up my coat
The gas-man is mending a leak
Hidden text(Pj) You are disgraceful person:-)
And he uses the latest technique
Of taking a match
To set fire to the thatch
- next thing, there's a blood-curdling shriek.
No smoking! No pipes! No Cigars!
Says the sign in the passenger cars
When I need a good puff
I call the guard's bluff
It went wrong. I was put behind bars!
Now that Hamish has finished his tea
He'll meet Dougal, just wait and see...
And, inspecting his flask
Its contents? - don't ask
(...it's a mixture of Bourbon and pee.) Coat please...
Enough of the Scots! Let's talk Swede!
It's a thing all my vegetables need!
My turnips want more
It's a bit of a bore
But it helps when they start to set seed.
There was a young lady from Bude trad
Allergic to all sorts of food
Nuts, gluten, and soy
She could never enjoy
Their effect on her bowels was just rude
There was a young man out of Rhyll Redressing the balance a taff tad.
Who ran up a huge restaurant bhyll I blame the spellchecker
By scoffing ten courses
He thereby endorses (pen) One "l" in Rhyl. Hard luck.
Credit card use at the thyll
The goddess of love (name of Venus)
Is wearing no clothes - it's tawdriness
She steps out of her shell
But - Dear God - the smell
Being locked up so long is quite heinous
And lo, the seasons doth change
No more hay-fever, now it's the mange
Or frost-bitten toesies
Hidden text(Stevie) Stand nearer the soap
Get out your knee cosies
Home sweet home on the (kitchen) range.
I've been equinoxed twice now this year!
An excuse to break out the beer
And play Jean Michel Jarre
Loud, in my car
Hidden text(Bis) Not quite yet. The equinox is at 1422 UT, 4 miinutes away as I type this.
While doing a ton in first gear
[Pablo] Did you pass me on the motorway this morning?

Roaring past at a hundred and ten
Pablo altered the volume and then
Jean Michel Jarre
Howled out of his car
What an earful for fearful young pen!
Let us dance a Dark Morris to bring
An end to this ludicrous fling
Do some hop 'n bop 'n
To rhythms forgott'n
Then your hook you can sling
While waiting for Godot one day
I think that I thought - 'come what may'
Was a bad Abba song
That stood out from the throng
Coz they sang it in G - should be A
It says not to try this at home
It's a thing you can do with a gnome
But please to take care
When you do it and where
Don't forget your protective Styrofoam.
Use a Styrofoam hat when you bike
With Styrofoam pants, if you like
Then add Styrofoam socks
To ward off hard knocks
It's a trick they used in the Third Reich.
I shall take my laboratory rat
And feed it five kilos of fat
Grow it big as a dog
Then inject egg-nog
And see if it goes for the cat.
Could be, there's a Nobel in this
We can make IPA from my piss! [Sorry Phil, if you're watching]
So, pen, get drinking
And never stop thinking
And telephone Greene King
Hidden textOo-er... simulapologies. Sorry.
That recycling realy is bliss
That brew of the gods, IPA
So don't let anyone say
It's just flavoured water
And drink it you oughta
With a smile, right after you pay
Hidden textFor the record, one really has no high gound to stand on if one goes where that last-but-one effort went so quickly.
I've launched a crowdfunding campaign!
Hidden textThe poor man's Nobel?
To design an intelligent brain
With some High-Tech connections
I've high expectations
Or it's 50 grand straight down the drain
Oh well done everyone! Crisps all round!
[Stevie]You are handcuffed and arrested for inferior rhyming. Here are samples of some correct choises: affections, collections, complexions, confections, convections, corrections, defections, detections, directions, dissections, ejections, election's, elections, erections, infections, inflections, injections, inspections, objection's, objections, projections, protections, reflections, rejections, selections
(Stevie) I think he means choices but what do I know.
[Rosie] I like his/her use of "correct" as the compliment of "inferior" myself. And my response is, as always, that the commentator, having asserted their superiority, is now free to indulge their love of sex and that of travel simultaneously.
Choose your words carefully, now
And enunciate "How now, brown cow?"
And make sure not to write
That the kids is all right [Rosie, Stevie] Hiding behind a pseudonym? Never a good stance for those assuming the role of scansion and rhyming police, nor for Brexiteers for that matter.
For some lurker will make you kowtow.
It is words that maketh the man
Just so long as they rhyme and they scan
Hidden text[Rosie] I think he meant options. There was only one choice to be made. Also, I wonder why 'election' and 'objection' were rendered in both plural and possessive form. Ho hum, we shall probably never know.
But what makes the lasses careful now...
Is poetry classes
Someone should tell Princess Anne. (pen) penult. Not guilty, Miss. The rather bumptious miscreant remains at large.
(Softers) You bin up nawf or sunnink?
Princess Royal - how lovely thou art
E'en when your horses do fart
From a surfeit of hay
Carrots, lentils, and whey
Don't stand too close when they depart.
Good heavens! Don't make such a fuss
They'll all think that you're just a wuss
Stop that complainin'
Just cos it's rainin'
And it's three hours before the next bus
"Give me your arm", said the nurse
While I half-inch the cash from your purse
We're not paid enough
So we have to get tough
But Brexiters' promises are worse
Re: BREXIT: The will and the way
Are frankly in some disarray
Why Article 50
Is getting more shifty Oblig.
And further away by the day
The tabloids are ranting of treason
It's their spleens and their bile that they're easin'
But their ignorant bile Can't call it anything else...
We must take with a smile
Till the count's in. Then comes the apeasin'
Enough with this democracy!
A tyrant's what we need
Who will make up the rules
Not giving a bugger about what works or not
Just like the players of this game
I think a glow-worm was struggling to get out there:
Enough with this democracy!
A tyrant's what we need.
He'd rule without hypocrisy
By one rule: his own greed.
Enough with this democracy
Let's try a spot of anarchy
No political boss
No giving a toss
No Don and no Hil bugging me

Just off the top of my head, in stream of conciousness. My start was good and offered an easy array of pertinent rhymes. Everyone else was to blame. I'm keeping these crisps. 8oP
I preferred the original.

In matters of scansion and rhyme
We abide just some of the time
But when we do not (Raak) It was, and my fault too. I'm 73, you know.
We react on the spot
And wax wroth in interpretive mime.
Hidden text[Rosie] I'm only a decade and a bit behind you.
Dear Hill'ry don't cry - you've got Bill
I'm sure he can give you a thrill
With a Cuban cigar
So nothing can mar
Your joy at the ring of the till.
That's it, for another four years
We'll hear nothing but wailing and tears
And old Lady Luck
Appears to be stuck
And you're all quite correct in your fears
When all the "Trumpettes" start yelling foul
I'll cover my head with a towel
You're donning a turban?
How quaintly suburban!
We Valley Girls wear "Hillary's cowl." that'll do.
Way up on a peak in the Andes
Or down on the banks of the Ganges
One stands and one stares
One mutters one's prayers
While lighting regretful our candles...
The Siberian Filigree Hamster
Hidden text Glad to see Marc is keeping up the tradition :)
Foreshadows a rhyming disaster
So I'll have an orange
One rose that is yellow
Schadenfreude to make Superman swear?
Tradition is seldom surpassed
By stuff that relates to the past
Nostalgia is fine,
Hidden textOoh, I swear... I can feel a Stevie-level strop coming on for that previous limerick treatment :)
Like a noble old wine
But the future goes past rather fast
The meaning with Christmas I think
Is that it's a good time to drink
I can't be the first you're welcome
With a seasonal thirst
But that punch looks suspiciously pink.
This year I'd like Santa to bring
The album Herb Alpert Plays Swing
And a Rover P6
A timepiece that ticks
And a furlong of Number Two string.
Scrooge said, "Now that old Marley's dead,"
"His riches are now mine instead"
But three ghosts made him see
Things quite differently
As one by one they turned up in his bed.
Bob Marley, a singer-songwriter,
Once asked me to lend him my lighter
To stoke up his spliff
And I would've done - if
I could find it. Where is it?, the blighter. I lose things, everything, all the time.
While drinking a small glass of sack
Guess who bumped into my back?
A small, forlorn elf
Who looked like Will Self
For both reasons, he went on the rack.
One for Stevie, as he asked :)
While I rode on the LIRR
I tuned my acoustic guitar
To the key of B flat
As we all sat and sat
But the train didn't move very far
Choose a chord, and then play it with speed
A G minor sixth's what you need
Modulate to E flat
F sharp with that
A very nice ringtone indeed
[pPRSS] A masterpiece for cellphones indeed...
The Finger Print Lock for my phone
Will exclude any omi palone
But if I lose my touch
Or get drunk, or some such
It unlocks with the right type of moan
My telephone's battery is dead
So I think I'll try shouting instead.
At least I won't squint
Or cast it to print
That you put in the shredder unread
We will soon see another dictator
Little Donald, whose motto is "greater"
His first action will be
To grope girls (two or three)
While tweeting "Obama's a traitor."
I just found a bunch of "fake news"
While tweeting "Obama's a traitor."
I just found a bunch of "fake news"
According to Trump, it's abuse
And badly written, to boot
Himself to disrepute
The world thinks he has blown a fuse...
Will they give him a standing ovation
Or just give him a straight flat castration
I'm hoping the latter
Cos castratos are fatter
So fat chance of shafting the nation
This Friday the First Trump will sound
And our dreams will crash down to the ground
Cometh hail mixed with blood
An avalanche of crud
Or a dollar worth more than a pound
But the man isn't president yet! 33 hours at the time of posting...
Sorry, 45 if you count up to midday on 20th
Soon he is and to all that's a threat
The nukes do his bidding
(Don't think he's kidding)
And then it's Auf Wiedersehen, Pet
There once was a loudmouthed clown
Who stuck his name all over town
On a poster that said
"Wanted: Living or Dead"
They shot him, and then he piped down.
A big fat notorious lier
Is the state to which marrows aspire!
For every courge's
Desire to be bourgeois
Grinds the people down. Ready! Aim! Fryer!
My lies are alternative facts
So your claim that my previous acts u.s.a.
Are truly obnoxious
Is thoroughly poxious
Same to you, no returns, to the max.
The last Jedi, alone on a hill
Stared wildly at his cell phone bill
His vast roaming charges
On spacefaring barges
So he hides - but they find him at will!
In an X-wing outbound for the Death Star
I was munching on a Mars® bar
When the Admiral said
"Right - full steam ahead!"
Then we crashed into Star Alcazar
My august predecessor once said,
"If you don't make a million, you're dead"
Now I sell p3n1z p1llz
Made of porcupine quills
Will you test them tonite in your bed...?
"Dear Sir, I am not one of those"
"Correspondents whose flowery prose"
Obfuscates my true meaning
My gist needs no gleaning
It hits you right there, on the nose.
My new novel will be out next week
For a giggle, I wrote it in Greek
And I used pseudonym
Jakob Ludwig Karl Grimm
But the press let my real name leak.
Christ almighty this bad weather sucks!
You'd think that El Niño's in flux!
Snow, hail and fog
It's not fit for a dog
It's the fault of those pesky Canucks.
My moped won't start, so these chocs
Won't stay very long in their box
A sweet compensation
For utter frustration
With a martini, stirred, on the rocks.
Mister Bond with a license to kill
Took position on top of Box Hill
His Sig Sauer set ready
His aiming arm steady
He knows there is no better thrill.
When it gales I'll mither and gall mis-using word types wild
The mizzle will bother and fall
While rainth and sleetch fail
It's time for the shail!
And the frog shall obscure parts of Gaul.
This coffee I made tastes like paint
And just a slight trace of boar taint
I should have used water
'Cos it clogs my aorta
Can I sit down? I feel faint
This paint I've just mixèd tastes sour
I hope it won't spoil happy hour
Lemon juice is the base
With TiO2 paste
With my tins of paint I make art
With my jars of jam I make a tart
For my name's Jackson Pollock
And with my third bollock
I'll redirect every fart.
Here's a few of my favourite things
Suckers and contracts with strings It's the Trump in me coming out
This ball of blue wool
This pint glass that's full
And a nice poker hand with five Kings.
Have you heard the sensational news
There's a tax to be placed upon pews!
A surcharge on the kneelers
No discount for dealers
So whatever you do, you will lose
I hear that they plan to tax farts In honour of the government of my home nation, who several decades back proposed a fart tax on cows because of their methane emissions. Carn the Kiwis!
And use it to promote the arts
We'll be arty as hell
Despite the foul smell oblig.
Emanating from our nether parts.
My kiwi is acting all strange
Could be myxomatosis or mange
I don't think it's rickets
Or harassment by prickets
More likely it's sex interchange.
I've been thinking of you ever since
You showed me those black and white prints
Nostalgic it was
To remember, because
They're before all those crap pastel tints
I remember that back in the day
The catchphrase that people would say
Was "splash it all over!"
"Have a roll in the clover!"
Or "Go ahead, punk, make my day."
Nice one all. Simons Mith wins the internet.
I spoke to the fellow in charge
About hiring a quinquireme barge
He told me his boat
Would just about float
And the slaves came without turbocharge.
When you're rowing make sure you've got oars
Or you'll struggle to get to new shores
To the oars, add a boat
One with rowlocks, please note
And some friends who can help - eights or fours
While trying to seduce Doris Day
You were punched by Rock Hudson, you say?
It was all in good fun
I was dressed as a nun
And everyone knows that he's gay
At a hog roast I met Steve McQueen
Where I told him his hog looked piss green
So he took me aside
Said: "You'd better go hide,"
"Or I'll rip out and swallow your spleen."
Hidden textI guess no-one wanted to play into the double meaning of "hog roast"
While watching the Titanic sink
I thought, "What I need's a stiff drink."
So leave out the ice
And don't mind the price
Singing "Nearer, My God, to Thee", I think.
Raise your voice let us all sing along
As the world goes to hell, sing this song:
"Toodle-oo, toodle-ay",
"Zippa-do-dah, de-ay"
But it won't stop things going wrong
If you sing "Rule Britannia" off-key
You'll upset the world order, you see
So you'd better shut up
And just drink a cup
Of thick, brown, lukewarm NAAFI tea
Gadzooks! Odds bods! Lack-a-day!
I was just now outbid on ebay!
The thing that I want
Pour ma fille débutante
Was sniped, but that's fine - I can't pay.
I talk to the trees, but in vain
I get blanked (is that planked?), in the main
Though one answer I've got
Is that they all talk rot
Ooh! Must run! It's the Whitecoats again!
The voice in my head said last night
"You ain't Einstein, now would I be right?"
For all of the thinkin'
And smokin' and drinkin'
Deceive me to think that I'm bright.
P, S, Ks, R, M - splendid.
Whenever there's lightning about
Your golf club do not wave about
For Zeus hates the game
And you'll be to blame
When you've been reduced to grout.
When it's cold up at 'mill, then it's time
To drink a large lager and lime
In the Rover's Return Oblig.
(Some folk never learn)
To enjoy and live life - it's springtime!
From "Pea and honey...", a quatrain that was rejected owing to its limerick-nature.
My ancient Marina still goes
Like an elephant in its last throes
Hidden textBismarck masquerading as Raak, for convenience
With motion unsteady
I still get it ready
With or without any clothes...
We will sail with the tide, get aboard
Bring your pirate hat, rum, and your sword
Practice "Gyarr!" and "Landlubberrr!"
You scurvy deck-scrubber,
Till your accent is slightly less flawed
The echo in here is quite odd
I said "Who's there?" and got the reply "God."
My hearing aid batt'ry
Straight from the fact'ry
I am sure was an ungodly fraud.
In the the Liverpool Echo today
"Ken Dodd Has Been Charged With Affray"
The Diddy Men claim
That his pantomime dame
Started it with her hairspray.
Meanwhile, oop north in York
Adele had a battle wi' Bjork I know that's not how Bjork would pronounce 'Bjork', but by 'eck it is 'ow a Yorkshireman'd say it.
They both donned t' clogs
Took t'bats and t'dogs
They don't care how the neighbours will talk
When Shakespeare put pen to paper
He could write a jolly good caper
With lots of cross-dressing
That had the queen's blessing
And swordfights with epée or sabre.
Gadzooks, forsooth and odds bods!
Facebook posters are miserable sods
They say "Look at mee"
And, "Wow, you're sexy!"
And post pictures of food - well, ye gods!
See my mouse! See my fresh Charlotte russe! I'll give you pictures of food... and internal rhymes on every line too!
As with gusto I wave my wand thus! You're catching an accent there if "mouse" rhymes with "russe", pen...
Hey presto! They're gone!
Dammit, I meant 'mousse'!!!
It's a visual con
Then she left with the five o'clock bus...
Then the busdriver asked: " Who are you?"
I said I was from Timbuctu
And I wanted a ticket
He said "Don't be thick, it.....
Costs four quid. You only dropped two.
Who knows where the fifty nine goes? While we're on the buses - see what I did there?
Check the front, that's where it shows
"Timbuctu via Kent"
Why, it seems heaven-sent!
A des(s)ert of apples. Who knows?
And then three came along, all at once
A burglar, a vandal, a nonce sorrysorrysorry
In a cell they were placed
Spun three times, and then faced
A chap who was clearly a ponce. What other rhyme is there?
It's my fault things are as they are
You could have done better by far
By ignoring me quite
A lot out of spite A torch burning there in the sconce / A man who clubbed me in the bonce
If I could change Stevie's line to It's done out of spite:
Signed: Beelzebub. BWAHAHAHAA!
[Bizzers] Mate, you can't. If you can't work with the line provided, step back and let someone else do it. Ironic really, given that this Lim is all about 'you could have done better' innit?
[Bismarck] Your replacement line doesn't really follow the previous one smoothly in my reading of it, providing a mental derailment when the whole limerick is read through. Good finish though.
I live and learn. [Stevie] "Quite" as in "completely", and it would need a semicolon. So a poor effort overall.
There's no choice to make but live and learn
Said the discouraged author Jules Verne
sotto voce Funny, that first lined scanned this morning when I wrote it
There's no CHOICE to make BUT live and LEARN
said the DIScouraged AUTHor jules VERNE. Where's the problem? Nine syllables each line. Stress on each third syllable. Job done.
(pen) Have you been at those Hobnobs again? That first line is far too long. What about
No choice but to live and to learn
Said discouragèd author Jules Verne.
So he threw down his pen
Resigned there and then
After final full stop he adjourned.
Tom Stoppard wrote plays that are puzzling
And summarized thusly: "man does thing"
His philosophy is
'Tho this ain't a quiz
That breasts are for guzzling and nuzzling. Coat!
One day as I ran for my train
With an unusual thought in my brain
"Why is Brian Billick…" Do-or-do-not Rhyme declared. It's good to be back.
So useless at Cyrillic"
Then I tripped and my ankle did ??????
Wot happened there? I wrote "sprain" in Cyrillic; it looked fine on preview and then went awry when I clicked "Stand".
I guess you sprained the website.
[Kim] This is a frequently encountered ????????.
Something not quite ?????? about the Unicode ?????????.
The ultimate fate of all glass
(Mostly that of the "superfine" class)
Is to be blown and then cut sailor
And to wound someone's butt
While not being mistaken for brass.
I don't really care for this rain:
Loudly I curse but in vain
But still, it is better
It's finer and wetter
But not as warm as in Spain
The rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain
But five iambs do not make limerick metre.
The rain doesn't fall here in Spain
A god job too; there's only one drain
It's blocked up with leaves
"Get it clear, Jeeves!"
"Or we'll be flooded all the way to the Seine!"
At a meeting in Trumpton town hall
Was decided to hold a great ball
So Barney McGrew
Did all he could do
Makin' moves, takin' names, standin' tall
Now harken ye unto my words bit pissed actually
That fly from my mouth like the birds
Do each to each other
Though I'm your big brother
You're swimming this pond filled with turds
Five pints and two limoncellos
For myself and these very fine fellows
Lads and lassies; A toast!
We salute our great host
Who's the owner of these fine bordellos...
When it rains, like it did here last week
With no paddle, I'm up the creek
The Thames is all flooded
London's all muddied
Perhaps the Flood Plan needs a tweak?
Whilst taking some stuff to the dump
My car coughed up its fuel pump
So I dumped the car too
In this outside loo
Next time on a bus I will hump
A dirty old man on a bus
Held his belly in place with a truss
This thing itches, said he
As he scratched his left knee
Which promptly oozed mountains of pus.
A dirty old man on a train We might as well work our way through all of this in one go then move onto something more tasteful.
In a raincoat 'though there's no rain
Attracted attention
But I'm loath to mention
The revelation his knobby old cane Mine's the Pitt jacket, thanks
My Tinder account has been hacked
My front patch of lawn has been fracked
My driveway undermined
My steeple inclined
…Has my Guardian Angel been sacked?
I've heard of a dastardly plot
Of drones to be hacked and taught     Silly little things.
Airborne death from above
Like a turd from a dove ?
Sounds sweet but stinks quite a lot. (DrQ) Interesting use of this.
[Rosie] The Low Back Merger. Snigger.
Facebook's become quite a bore
And Twitter just seems like a chore
Instagram; MySpace;
(which is out of the race)
And Tumblr and G+ I abhor!
As I rub-a-dub-dubbed in my tub
Hidden textThey can't touch you for it!
In the bath fell my USB hub
I lost my connection
And a very small section Obviousness avoidance invoked
Of data, then started to blub
On the thirty-third day of September
We were told, and will always remember:
Tis the Feast of St. Bart
When there's cucumber tart
From now till the end of December
I once took a trip to Penzance
Just to by a brand new pair of pants
With a piratey flair
And a glittery glare
Then I found in my pants there were ants
I've booked a staycation in Tring
Come what may - we will make anything
Until it Herts
In my Google alerts 'Say what you see' Dusty Bin wildcard invoked
To see TripAdvisor's rating. - "Get out of logical framework free" card played
Hidden text "Improvement" of a previous Lim... Sorry Marc!
I once took a trip to Penzance
Just to buy a brand new pair of pants
With a piratey flair
And a glittery glare
And flares three feet wide - Elegance!
Today when I opened my post
It got smeared with some hot buttered toast Never open letters at the breakfast table.
The letter inside
Was sixteen feet wide
'twas a note of demand from my host.
"Dear Sir, it's regarding your rent,"
"We need currency, sir, not intent"
"Your kids as security"
"To ensure their futurity"
"Is a legal non-starter (in Kent)"
I remember it cost two pound ten
But that was in - oh, way back when
We used L s d
Now it's pound coins and pee
Here's a cheque. Can I borrow your pen?
I pay with my smartphone, you see
I'm a smartass, there's no one like me
But my phone cost a bomb
I said with aplomb
It's a shame that it's only 2G
I have to inform you, young man
That if you drink beer from a can
You'll lose the scent
So if that's your intent
You can get in the back of the van!
That blank look takes over my face
When someone says they play bass
Or fondle their fiddle
Or drums a paradiddle
And it's time to get out of this place.
Within short I will make a comeback
Papa baffs na go give um dey sack declaring pidgin wild
All along the Zambezi
I'll make it look easy
Because I just have the knack
My guardian angel looks down with fright.
At the things I get up to at night
Under cover of dark
I sneak to the park
And give the shins of lovers a smite.
From next door, there's an awfully loud din
As the neighbours play drums on their bin
With saucepan lid cymbals
Played loud with thimbles
While I jam on my old mandolin. (Hi George!)
There once was a talented writer
Whose fans thought her such a delighter
That at her book signing
They just stood there, pining
For the off-chance they each might just sighter
These new Kindle e-book hacks suck "hack" as in bad writer; they abound in the Kindle self-publishing world.
On lemons as they write their muck
The resulting acidity crap scansion
Ends in lividity
At the rubbish you get for your buck.
Five Bitcoins I've got in my purse
They're better than cash - quite perverse
For they're not really real
Though easy to steal
They're easy to spend, and that's worse.
There's a hole in my new christmas sock
That fits snugly around my cock
However, it itches
When inside my britches
So I line it with large leaves of dock.
Moving swiftly on...
Let us think of the coming New Year
And deck ourselves out in flash gear
And I promise you this
I won't take the piss sorrysorrysorry - it was asking to be done
Which means that I won't be a Peer (Claims Worst Pun of 2018 So Far Award)
Now I've shuffled the deck - will you deal?
With twenty-five cards? You for real?
With no aces or kings
We've no arrows nor slings
But fortune outrageous, I feel.
So, now the New Year's under way and no naval types try to tell me it's "weigh" please...
And I've escaped the vile Opus Dei If we are talking the Warring States period of China, it could be "under Wei"
So our future is bright
To pursue the good fight
To bury Theresa May.
There are Tories and Whigs at my door Seeing as we are going political
In big herds never seen heretofore
For Tandridge foments chance'd be a fine thing
'Midst back bench laments
While we blankly ask "What's it all for?"
In Bangalore there's someone called George
Who went to the Marble Rocks Gorge
Where he laid out his tea
At a quarter past three
With Messner, Mutschlechner and Dorje.
There once was a thinker named Kant
Who encountered a large elephant
Which viewed him suspiciously
Then charged him quite viciously
Hidden textThat vicious and viscous won't get me again like it did at my 8th grade spelling bee!
Hence Africa: A Mad Kant 'Phant Rant.
When I was a child in 8th grade
My one wish was to see a parade
Where the Grenadier Guards
Would light their petards
And put Manneken Pis in the shade.
He made once a shocking mistake
Confusing the clutch with the brake
The resulting collision
Caused a minor division
Of his spine which then gave him a backache.
When the moon goes into eclipse
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