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The Obligatory Limericks Game Reincarnated
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And so it begins....
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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
As it orbits its usual elipse
Its super blue blood
Turns the colour of mud
The same colour as Aunt Hilda's lips...
Her lips filled with Botox were blue
Like those of my other aunt, Sue
And her daughter, young Shelley,
(Who's been on the telly)
Got the same effect from a tattoo.
It will soon be St Valentine's Day
And every chaste maiden cries HOORAY!
But a bunch of dead roses
Shoved under their noses
Won't take their chasteness away
[Software]: "chase", surely?
I once, in the season of Lent,
Spent thirty-nine days in a tent:
Eating corned beef and beans
With a helping of greens
And sat with my bum to the vent.
On the last day of Lent I gave in
I was getting quite dangerously thin
So I binged on ice cream
"Wild thinged" the whole team
Then threw up in the bin
And then threw it all up in the bin.
Could today be the first day of Spring?
We'll know just by checking one thing:
Has the groundhog appeared?
If he has he is weird!
If not his hook he can sling
There's never much snow on the ground
At least, not where I'm to be found
In far Timbuctu
Where I sit on the loo
Performing while folks gather round.
I once met a chap in Tibet
Who flew around on a carpet
Levitation you know
Is a nodding dog's show (I'm taking a carpet to be a small stuffed animal sitting on the parcel shelf.
Well, just how kitsch can you get?
There was a young man from Goonhilly   Family Show declared.
Who did something ever so silly
At old Jodrell Bank Careful now...
Well, I gotta be frank
He lip-synced to Milli Vanilli
Well done! Everyone pick up their Whitehouse Awards at the door.
'Tis true that there's snow on the roof
And it's bleedin' cold aht, that's the troofEastenders variation invoked
So if that mahfy cahhh
Wiv an arse like a saa
Shouts "brass monkeys", well, she's just uncouth.
It's snowing again. What a thrill
To go jingle my bells with a will
As I ride on my sleigh
As I did Christmas day
Now it's over - please hand me that pill...
Left hand down a bit. All stop. REVERSE!
Navigation? Well this is perverse!
Is the blindfold essential?
It tests your potential
Of posting your lines in free verse...
Good grief, is the sun coming out?
It's not - so shudda your mouth!
This wintery spring
When the birds ceased to sing
Has put 'Global Warming' in doubt (the author would like to acknowledge that weather is not the same as climate)
In Downing Street there's this old girl
Whose life is a dizzying whirl
With her mates Don and Boris https://img.huffingtonpost.com/asset/59bfe4ba1a00007100f073b5.jpeg?ops=scalefit_630_noupscale
Dancing the Brexit Morris
But the sight will just make you hurl
Lord Buckethead, now. There's a fellow
He seems to be quite sane and mellow
But his good friend Lord Sutch
Was a little too much
He wouldn’t just scream, he would bellow.
The news of today is insane
Some doctor transplanted his brain
Leaving him dead
Wi' nowt in his head
Is it time for elections again?
Have ye seen the white whale that I seek?
I heard it wis here just last week
It usually lurks
By the old plankton works
Which made ten tons a day at its peak.
I like that one. Crisps all round.
[Stevie] Thanks! crunch Mmm. Plankton.
I fear I must write in complaint.
That they're calling Churchill a saint.
'Cos everyone knows
From his head to his toes
The complaint re: this "saint" is:- He ain't!
In Limerick once lived a lad
Whose personal hygiene was bad
'Twas said that his stench
Could be sensed by the French
And drove all within twenty feet mad.
I asked a French mate about that
He sucked on his teeth and then spat
"Ça me fait chier"
"De sentir ses pieds"
And that was the end of our chat.
Body language is hard to ignore
Like the way that you just slammed the door
I get the impression
You've succumbed to depression
And don't give a toss anymore
Nice one everyone. Crisps all round.
I spread joy as much as I can
(It's easy in my ice cream van)
The power of a flake
Or sprinkles will make
You feel much more like a man
I am sure that it was a mistake
To serve ice-cream on top of a steak
My meat à la mode
And the juices which flowed
Proved my Michelin star was a fake.
May the fourth be with you and your clan
Today's May the fifth; change of plan
But we'll still catch a ride
On the outgoing tide
Sailing fourth in a black garbage can...
My Yacht "Miss 4 Sail" is for sale,
She's a great little boat for a male
She's sleek, trim and yar
For some pretty Jack Tar
But will sink without trace in a gale.
I'd quite like to buy a new boat
For sailing around in my moat
I'd be out with the tide
And the laundry beside
Is efficiently washed as I float.
At the Inn named "Y Knot" in old Cowes
Sat a sailor with knotty eyebrows
He’d accost every stranger
With "You - Percy Grainger?"
When he'd drunk more than five curaçãos.
What is your pleasure, then? It's my round.
At this, the old codger just frowned
"I'll give this one a miss"
"For I'm off to the loo"
To piddle all beer I have downed.
A cold shower's a good start to the day
Or a swim in the cold Hudson Bay
Just slap on some grease
Point the satnav at "Nice"
And tuck all your tackle away
The occasional bellowed profanity
Shall not discommode our urbanity
Though we know that it will
If it's heard in Seville
Because they lack basic humanity
I remember a chap from Brazil
Who claimed to have found Yggdrasil
Unfortunately
twa's exorbitantly
Faked from paper-stuffed cavalry twill
I once met this god from Olympia
Whose garb could not have been skimpier
In wine, he would swim
Thus keeping in trim
Though his drunkenness made him seem wimpia
I have here a one-metre rule
That has ferules that are really quite cool
And a legible grading
(Although it's now fading)
After long frequent use in the school
I don't think that I've seen one of those
Being used in the way that you chose
But improvisation
Gets my acclamation
As a wonderful artistic pose
Now these you can buy by the yard
They start soft but then go really hard
They're not thixotropic
Nor yet hygroscopic
CDs with the movies "Die Hard"
In my youth, I would go around with
A load of yobs from Penrith Pedanticus writes: It has to be pointed out that the "th" in "with" is voiced, making strict rhyming impossible. Using Welsh is not possible because the stress would be on the wrong syllable. The only solution to this impasse is to assume marked Caledonian chararcteristics on the part of Superman
Although we came via
Hidden textRosie: I was always under the impression that myth, blacksmith, and monolith rhymed with "with"
The Mull of Kintyre oblig.
No-one among us was a sound-smith
8o/
I was hoping we'd get a Sith in there somewhere.
(KagShu) I'd say the difference is like the difference between the th's in thing and there, this, that etc. I don't think there's any difference between American and British English on this point.
[Superman] You can hope, and you can stack the deck with a difficult rhyme in the first line, but in the end you get no more say in the finished product than if you'd played a move that offered wide-open possibilities to everyone else.
In my youth I'd knock about
With the grandson of Ebenezer Prout
He was fun, was young Fred,
It's so sad, now he's dead,
He was, though, a bit of a lout. highly unlikely
(Raak) I have here a copy of Prout's "Counterpoint, Strict and Free". It was bought by my Dad in Tunbridge Wells and he has put the date (Jan 18 1941) and his name and address on the flyleaf. The address is in Crowborough, where I was born, but I've no idea if it was where I lived for the first two years or whether it was in one or both of two other addresses in said town. Should've asked - bit late now. Prout's volume you could call "severe".
My father, a violinist, had a copy, and my brother, a cellist, no doubt looked into it during his musical education. I was always puzzled by where all of these rules came from and what their purpose was, but I could never get an explanation.
On steps to Parnassus I climb
Just taking one step at a time
I breathe the thin air
As Fux he did dare
To write seven-part fugues: so sublime!
[Raak] The "rules" spring from what is considered consonant and dissonant, views of which have changed throughout musical history. Hence you can end up with a fugue like that in Walton's 1st Symphony, which would have Prout screaming in his grave. All good clean fun
(Pablo) Never double the seventh. Beethoven does it all the time.
I tried my hand at the flute
As well as the ven'rable lute
After while I gave up
And took to the cup
- And that was a lot more astute
[Rosie] Be even more daring and have the 7th rise!
I once wrote a charming duet
And performed as a crooning cruet Leaving every other rhyme for 'duet' available for subsequent contributors. I'm all heart.
I made quite a showofit following penelope's lead, but see source for suggestions if you think you just bluet
Or at least made a goofit To my reading duet is a masculine rhyme, so all that needs to be rhymed is the final syllable
And got to the end with no sweat. (CdM) Agreed. Didn't know that was called "masculine"
But it's more fun the other way, and the ending begged for some suet.
[Stevie] I refer you to your own comment in this forum last week... you can beg for suet all you like!
Very truet.
Won't someone please give me some suet?
I once had a packet but blew it
While chewing the fat
I found a dead rat
That I grilled in a lickety split.
Grilled rat is a delicious meal
When served on a bed of fried seal
Do not overcook it Anticipating a marked boreal presence
And immediately book it
Before it has time to congeal and now, for some taste....
Bon viveur? How I mean to live well!
Champagne Charlie thinks I'm quite a swell
I'll be quaffing the bubbles
And downing the doubles
But don't overdo it, Ma'moiselle.
A sip of the bubbly's divine
But cabernet's equally fine
And Asti is nishe
If'sh kept on ishe
Though Château d’Yquem is top of the line. (Anno 1811...)
A pint IPA, if you please
And some crisps - make them onions and cheese
And for my good friend here
Teetotal, I fear
Juice of orange, with ice, freshly squeezed.
A round of the optics is just
What you need when your business went bust
It will make you see clearly
And we ask you sincerely
Do you give a shit? We’re not fussed. whoever drew the tits as their moniker, would you please not do it again? Thanks.
On a bright Monday morning like this
One feels that one would be remiss
Not to breathe the fresh air
Or pick a ripe pear
And set forth on a day full of bliss if only...
Gad! The heat! And the dust! And the flies!
And the moans and the groans and the cries!
And the tropical nights
And these nylon tights!
All this for the Man Booker Prize.
When hit in the face with a cod
You must keep a firm grip on your rod [Raak, Stevie, Marc, Simons Smith, Rosie] I liked that one, especially the end - bravo...
Which sounds a bit bawdy
If you're northern or Geordie
But for everyone else just sounds odd
The fighting technique of the hake
Is not that unlike that of a rake
It lies peacefully there
Without any flair
And then suddenly strike like a snake.
I'll tell you about my pet shark
It will bite off your head for a lark
And fingers are tasty
So my bathing's hasty
While the shark barely marked poor old Marc
Ten fingers but only nine toes,
If you're a diver then that's how it goes
When the dreaded bends
strikes, it often portends
The poet's descent into prose
When we've been away at the beach
I've tried hard my children to teach
Not to play with the sharks
(Who're known for their larks)
Nor to pick up and eat a live leech.
A dose of the old writer's block
Does not mean that s/he's now an old crock
Take a break, smell a rose
Drop a rock on your toes What? I get very creative with improvised speech when I do this
And continue to brood 'round the clock
The best beer is brewed round the clock
But you could be in for a shock
When straining the wort
Finding it's made from yo-gort I know, it's very bad, but come on - https://www.foodandwine.com/beer/how-to-make-beer-from-yogurt
With green squidgy lumps — mind your frock!
After drinking one beer you pee three
Maybe you do but, truly, not me
'cause I drink only wine
So my bladder is fine
I drink Scotch, so my wee is, well... wee.
Here's a tip for making an ale
Out of mushrooms, old socks and a snail
Add a pinch - just a pinch -
Of penny-an-inch A rare variety of heather whose dried roots are used as a herb. Its Scottish folk name derives from it being considered a great extravagance.
And boil it all up in a pail. (Raak) Cheaper than HS2 nevertheless.
Home brew can be quite a hobby
At least if you are not too snobby
You can make a nice stout
From a well-aged breech-clout
But beware when you do your next jobbie.
While drinking at home is just fine
You shouldn't be doing a line.
But Vitamin L   may variously refer to lifestyle, light, love, or LSD
From my artesian well
May lead to substantial decline
The vitamins A, B and C
Are absent in Worthington E
About B I'm not sure?
How it's made? What it's for?
And is it worth 2 points or 3?
"Oh my dear, have you got one of those?"
"I had one, which got stuck up my nose"
But I've one nostril free
Which is crucial, you see,
Should I wish to smell a wild rose
Step 1: take part A and part G
Step 2: Screw them gently on B
And if you've no idea
Just ring up IKEA
You'll be put through to Sweden - for free!
This flatpack has just saved the day! Well done everyone, especially on the last three lims
Especially as Gran's on her way
It's a beautiful coffin
To send her off in Ta, Super, set up nicely there :)
On her way to the far Milky Way. Sorry Gran, see you soon out there...
The first-ever granny in space
Took a brolly with her, just in case
Of rain upon Mars
Or dust from the Stars
Spoiling her heirloom white lace
My mother said that I should not
Complain of my God-given lot
But I feel I'm deprived
As I have not arrived
Where by now I should surely have got
Five cats, three dogs, and a moose
Were misguidedly let on the loose
They frightened the horses
And caused two divorces
And trampled all over my goose
How do you get down from a duck? holds breath
It's largely a matter of luck keep holding
One foot on the ground
Then spin right around
And beware not to crash in the muck.
I've a worrisome growth on my knee
It measures a foot, inches three.
I should go to the doc
He'll laugh and he'll mock
(It's shaped like a banjo, you see) https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oh!_Susanna
My doctor just gave me this pill
That was made by a tribe in Brazil
I see machine elves
Hidden textsqueaking, jewelled, self-dribbling basketballs made of grammar and light
Indulging themselves
To the point where they make themselves ill
I'm trapped in this 'ere Klein bottle
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