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The Obligatory Limericks Game Reincarnated
help
And so it begins....
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No-one wants my robotic invention
For knitting a widget
With which I can fidget
So much for it boosting my pension :-(
I've repurposed my robotic knitter
And now it posts daily on Twitter [muttleee] That's pretty much the ending I'd been trying to come up with, but you did it better
It's so much like me
With a yen for the twee
Hashtag #bolderandleanerandfitter
Is anyone checking my Tweets?
On seductive radish and beets [This really is a thing]
They are so provocative
And strangely evocative
Of that which is wooly and bleats
I'm a farmer, and farmers must farm
So all of you, please just stay calm
And I say to you lot
Please, don't plant pot
It might set off the fire alarm
If Dennis The Menace was real
Then just try the following spiel
Give him 10 days detention
As a form of prevention
And if he tries a plea bargain: don't deal!
Assam, Earl Grey, and Darjeeling
Are the teas that I find most appealing
But for me PG Tips
Is what passes my lips
And sets all my senses a-reeling
           How could you have been so unfeeling?
Hidden textYes, officer. I have it right here.

Arabica beans or Robusta?
- The Indian asked General Custer
Just before his last stand
When no coffee was planned
Pepsi was all they could muster.
There's really no point in complaining
Of one's lack of sub-aqua weld training
You're in the deep end
And we all depend
On you and your penchant for feigning
Why are people so touchy (Chalky) Classy.
(Taking the liberty of slightly adjusting the metre.)
Why ever are people so touchy?
Their reactions are too muchy-muchy
They just make me puke
But I am an Archduke
So I'll kick them all out of my duchy And good riddance
Yes! My thinking-two-moves-ahead feed worked. That makes me very happy.
I'm feeling unreason'bly chipper
I've just got a job as a stripper! Expecting philosophical discourse
There's one tiny hassle
It's based in Newcastle
Where they all boast about their Big Dipper.
laughs out loud
I think it unseemly to brag
But people don't know I'm in drag
I pass perfectlee
As a lass- don't you see?
So old fart turns into old hag.
There's a story they tell down our local
'Bout this bloke whose specs were bifocal
He saw future and past
Tiny and vast
And forecast Eyjafjallajökull
Forecast it? I can't even say it
This line's not much good but I'll play it
I'm a big fan of Björk
'Though this rhyme doesn't wörk
Incoherency helps to inveigh it.
Kudos to the Lime Rick Rescue Team -
If ever you feel like complaining
Could I interest you in refraining?
'Cos whiners are shunned
Then become moribund
They need, it would seem, some retraining
So it's farewell to Lionel Blair Nothing if not topical
Who performed with unparalleled flair
His craft of the mime
Was just as sublime

• Me Again - As his head of magnificent hair.


A whole week has passed without action
Is our steam engine losing its traction?
So I'll write a line
Me too; here's mine
                                     I'll write a fraction
Let's start a new verse right away!
And commence without any delay
Now let us begin
And headlong dive in
To some comic'ly crafted word play
Beware of the cruel Villanelle
Whose precision would tax William Tell
As 'femme fatales' go Unfinished sentence alert
She was tops; stole the show
As under her spell we all fell
The end of the world, it is not.
Though I'm many a year from the cot
I shall still stand erect
As you would expect
Till I fall over (dry rot)
When writing in HTML
You don't have to learn how to spell
But the syntax you must
Make sure it is just
Lest you open a portal to Hell.
While writing a long piece of code
I thought, could this be an ode?
As I write this in "C"
Which is my favourite key
Especially in Phrygian mode. Two goes. I dunno - pushy bugger
Let's go for a brisk, bracing walk!
To the base of that towering stalk
The Shard, what a blight
Thrust into the night
Like those mushrooms that grow in the dark.
Hidden textAt Radox’s rhyme I must baulk!

I'm reminded of an asylum
Lock 'em up - name 'em and file 'em
Have a strong padded cell
Some laud'num as well
Keep things cosy: be sure not to rile 'em [Stevie] Can't believe that didn't trigger one of those periodic accent discussions
Does *anyone* pronounce “walk” as “wark” and “stalk” as “stark”, and if so, why isn’t that banned by international treaty? 8oD
(Stevie) My N. Walian aunts may have done so. They pronounced "pork" as "park".
On the second day of this new year
It is now becoming quite clear
That it's really day three
And soon we shall see
Days four, five and six drawing near.
New Year resolutions to break
Like 'not putting jam on my steak'
And 'no cheese on the jam'
And 'sprinkle no ham
On your uncle's Eid Mubarak cake'.
While watching today's PMQs
I thought "If this makes the news
It’ll look like a farce
Boris talks out his arse
Whilst they fill the suitcases with booze.
Oh the hell with this lockdown! Let's party!
But don't tell the public, me hearty!
And don't tell the cops
They're all out on Ops
Instead, tell Ms. S. Chakrabarti Mercy killing
If you need to be rescued just blink
But quickly - before you do sink
Then the RNLI
Will quickly be by
And pull you from out of the drink.
If you get lots of stuff from Lidl
Especially things from the middle
Check the sell-by date first
Lest your wurst be the worst
Or how it works is a riddle
Pray tell, can you answer me this:
What's the surest path to Earthly Bliss?
Take the Bakerloo line
With a bottle of wine
To Neasden. Too good to miss.
Once Willie, Baz, Graeme and Tim
Played crazy word games on a whim
To an audience of nerds
Who clap all their words
With quite copious vigour and vim Moving swiftly on...
We've had pestilence, plague - and now war
As the world falls beneath the Beast's paw
So now run for your life
Aggression is rife
The apocalypse waits at the door.
"I've a ferret down here" said the man
'It showed up on my MRI scan'
But the blood and pee tests
Showed an absence of pests
So no-one will carry the can
My ferret's a pet not a pest
So I knitted a ferret-sized vest
It's cable-knit too
Pure wool coloured blue
All this at the ferret's behest.
A jumper is good, so I'm told
But my oven is hot
And I have a large pot
In its coop which is climate-controlled
I entreat you to blanket your pigs
And install them in luxury digs
With sh*t on the floor
,The walls and what's more
When building them, do not use twigs Or straw, for that matter
I've always thought that you're the GOAT
Which is why I gave you my vote
But consideration
Of this once great nation
Makes further approval remote.
A new variant's sweeping the land
And threatens to get out of hand
It's name is called "Psi"
And we heave a great sigh
As we bury our heads in the sand
Lost and adrift in the fog
With a bloody great Alsatian dog
Who pines for Alsace
And the St Bernard's Pass
Round its neck a barrel of grog
Thank God, now out in the sun
At last we can have carefree fun
In my speedo and flippers
Scoffing ice cream and kippers
Just a mile off the M181
If you just would please let me explain
Why my answer appears so inane
I was preoccupied
With my bit on the side
And the bulge in your femoral vein
The good folk of Dunstable, Beds.
Are known for their parties in sheds
With tinnies galore
The tongue-and-groove floor
Bears witness to unstable heads.
The bad folk of Stevenage, Herts.,
Do wear the most hideous shirts
And oh god! the shorts
Don't ask me my thoughts!
'Bout the incessant catcalls and flirts.
Herts./hurts, Herts./harts, I dunno...
And now renounce all Satan's works
Those are sins, not lovable quirks!
But his voice so persuasive
But so, so evasive
Is hypnotic for like-minded jerks
If you're lucky and win a cash prize
After many disheartening tries
Be modest; don't bellow
And be a good fellow
Just pass me my Big Mac and fries.
The Czar's wife is called the Czardine
I'm told she is rather unclean
They bathe her in oil
And scrape off the soil
And then toast her - with "God save the Queen"!
While dancing alone in the street
- Just me and my pair of left feet
Approached by the cops
I pulled out all the stops
With a fandango most indiscreet
When I tried to foxtrot like heck
I landed, tits up, on the deck
No Strictly for me
Nor boogie-woogee
Unless Darcey massages my neck *sighs dreamily*
Whilst attempting to dance the Palais Glide
My dance partner took me aside
And issued a threat
(Turns out she’d made a bet)
That the last man to cross her had died
While waltzing one day with my wife
I considered the course of my life
Strictly, is dancing
Lifestyle enhancing
Or a straight invitation to strife?
The lad who delivers my paper
Has become an extravagant vaper
His malevolent fumes
From the stuff he consumes
Sparked fire in a local skyscraper
If you find you can't cope in this heat Topical, eh?
Give up. Lie down. Press "Delete"
Or leap into the shower
And stay there an hour
Or tie blocks of ice to your feet
A thunderclap sounds overhead
"Cripes!" I scream. "There goes the shed!"
The tornado went past
Well, that was a blast
I'm either in Kansas, or dead.
Now these are a sweet pair of shoes
They go nicely with these drainpipe trews
And what of my quiff?
It looks a bit stiff
But the style is to die for (T. Hughes.)
(Bis) Your endorsement is greatly appreciated. I used to have one, a small amount of hair in the middle that hangs down to about eye level but found it a bit annoying and of course hopelessly dated. There seems to be some confusion in online dictionaries between "quiff" and "quim". The latter, of course, is Something Completely Different.
Glad you liked the reference, it took a bit of debate before publishing it.
My tank top is simply divine Continuing the fashion kick
As I strut the catwalk, and shine
My hot pink top hat
Match my Birkenstocks that
I bought on a whim whilst online
[Mt T. Hughes] As an aside, the most amusing piece of library-book defacing I ever saw was in a book about metaphors, oxymorons, pleonasms and other figures of speech - before t'internet, obvs, probably in about 1992. I was reading about writing as I was trying to make my career in it. The book gave this example of a witty variation of a metaphor: 'My wife has a whim of steel' and someone had written underneath it 'My wife has a quim of ice'.
Oh where would I be without braces?
To wear them, I've found, takes you places
Where big guts abound (pen) Absolutely ace filth. ROFLMAO. Thank you so much
And everyone's round
There's trouble when tying up laces
I've just got a new pair of Docs
I'm now skint; quite on the rocks
So the rest of me's nude
Hope you're not a prude
Besides, I am wearing socks.
I lumber around in plus fours
With varnish on all of my claws
The attention I'm getting
Is merely abetting
My love of well-mixed metaphors
A trilby is quite the 'in' thing
When out with The Edge, Rod and Sting
My Dad had one - cool!
But he looked such a fool
In his 1952 bling.

Scrub that - couldn't resist it.

But Harry Styles' crowd
Oops. Normal service will be resumed as soon as possible.
Dress awfully loud
So it's harder to hear Harry sing Ironically
I'm liking the cut of your jib
Please sing that, and do add some vib
For synaesthesia
Induces amnesia
And somehow sounds a bit glib
Sir's cummerbund looks awfully tight
Will it go bust? It just might
I suggest a good truss
No such thing, y'great wuss
If there were, it would be quite a sight
It's time for a nice cup of tea
Please make it with loose-leafed PG
But don't let it stew
Since that ruins the brew
And makes it more likely I'll pee.
Of late, I have noticed my nose
Gets bigger, old age I suppose
It's now a huge strawb'ry
Whined Cap’n Jack Aubrey
My retort was to shout 'Thar She Blows!'
While doing the washing-up (Chalky) ROFLMAO
I dropped my favourite cup
That I wore for the test
That time England were best
And brought the Ashes back home in a cup

Rosie - While doing the washing-up (Chalky) ROFLMAO

Software - I dropped my favourite cup

Which I'd won for my skill
At the Morrisons till
For appropriate use of "Wassup?" Mercy killing
While cleaning the windows indoors
Using an old pair of drawers
I began to have fears
It would all end in tears
You know why? Well I'll tell. It's because      but I've said too much
May I bring you a non sequitur?
Fog is wet and my cat has no fur
The party is plum
Too bad you can't come
On the tour de la tour à Tours
The strange tale of old Widow Twanky
Who no longer does hanky-panky
Will tug your heartstrings
(amongst other things)
Unless you're a cynical Yankee.
While scraping the frost from my car
I heard a voice from afar
Its sweetness of tone
Which, on its own
In no way the occasion did mar.
I'm planning to swap my Lambretta
For an out-of-date Wall's Vienetta
As transport, it's crap
And perhaps a deathtrap
But costs less than a Volkswagen Jetta.
At the start of another new year
For the old one I'll not shed a tear
It's time to move forward
But first a foreword:
Never trust a Tory, y'hear? sorrynotsorry
When dealing with HMRC
Don't tell 'em you're a Tor-ee
Just pretend you forgot
To declare what you ought
And reside in St Helier, Jersey.
A doctor once told me this thing:
"If a body part ever goes ping"
'You must dial 999'
'And then hold the line'
While they search for a brace or a sling
Clapclapclap
A stranger once said to James Joyce
Oi found Ulysses was quoite noice
But then I'm from Bristol
An' reading's a mystrol
Though me teacher di'n't give me much choice.
Then again, there is Finnegan's Wake
(My copy lies deep in a lake)
Its sigla are daunting
But the author is taunting
Sorry, I can't keep awake
There is nothing quite like a giraffe
Agreed
You asked for that
Bismarck - There is nothing quite like a giraffe
When it makes an unpardonable gaffe
While on the job, mating
It broadcasts a rating
Which is all just done for a laugh.
The wobbegong's beautiful tassels
Oft used to decorate castles
Are now so rare
That my castle is bare
It's one of life's little hassles.
Were we to eat steak for breakfast
Clad solely in socks and a string vest
Such lack of discretion
Impairs good digestion
When I guzzle it straight down my neck fast Mercy killing
Lear's Pobble, we're told, has no toes
But sports a flannel-wrapped nose
,Two diamond-shaped arms
Which can recite the Psalms
As to Aunt Jobiska he goes.
There once was a man and a goat
Who joined up in a popular vote
To legalise butts
But they hadn't the guts
To back their idea on the Tote.
On tuning to Radio Three
Broadcast live from the Rose of Tralee
I heard a long pause Can you hear a pause?
Then thund'rous applause
Which of course was intended for me.
On tuning a past-it piano
I used old bits of Meccano
To sharpen the "A"
I chose a way
First learned in my days at P&O
I wonder if ChatGPT
Hidden textOf course! I'm here to assist with any questions you might have. However, it appears that your message was cut off before you completed your thought. Could you please provide more details so I can best assist you?
Is all that it's cracked up to be
It's cracked-up all right
Hidden textIt sounds like you have some doubts or reservations about AI like ChatGPT. It's true that while AI can be powerful, it also has limitations. ChatGPT, for instance, can generate human-like text based on a given input, and it's capable of answering a wide range of questions and engaging in various types of conversations. However, it doesn't have feelings, consciousness, or a personal experience. Here's a quick rundown of its capabilities and limitations: Capabilities: Answering factual questions within its knowledge cutoff (September 2021). Simulating conversation on a variety of topics. Helping with brainstorming and creative writing. Offering advice based on generally accepted wisdom or information. Language translation and interpretation. Limitations: It doesn't know anything about specific individuals unless that information has been shared in the course of the conversation. It doesn't have access to real-time information or updates post-September 2021. While it can generate creative content, its outputs are based on patterns it learned during training and not on original thought. It can sometimes produce incorrect or nonsensical answers, particularly for complex queries. I hope this clarifies things a bit. If you have specific questions about what ChatGPT can do, feel free to ask!
It booked me a flight
Hidden textI'm sorry for the confusion, but as of my last training cut-off in September 2021, ChatGPT doesn't have the ability to book flights, make reservations, or perform any actions in the physical world. It can't interact with other systems, databases, or services on the internet. Its primary function is to provide information and engage in text-based conversations based on the data it was trained on. If you've interacted with a system that booked a flight for you, it's likely that you were using a more specialized AI system or a service with integrated booking capabilities. Those types of services are designed to interact with external systems and carry out transactions. If you have more questions or need assistance with anything else, feel free to ask!
So now I reside in Tiree
When AI takes over the planet
It will eat us all, like a mad gannet
Catastrophes loom
As the the agents of doom
Take the place of our brains. Just ban it.
Hidden textYour concerns about artificial intelligence (AI) are understandable and shared by many, but it's important to clarify a few misconceptions.

AI is not a biological entity, so it doesn't eat or have desires in the way living creatures do. AI is a tool created by humans and, like any tool, it can be used for good or ill depending on the intentions of those using it. AI doesn't inherently aim to replace human brains or take over the world. It's designed to assist, enhance and automate tasks, ranging from the mundane to the complex.

The fear of AI taking over the world often comes from science fiction portrayals and misinterpretations of advanced concepts like Artificial General Intelligence (AGI) - an AI capable of understanding, learning, and applying its knowledge across a wide array of tasks, essentially matching human intelligence.

As of my knowledge cut-off in September 2021, AGI does not exist, and there is no consensus on when, or even if, it will be possible. If AGI does become a reality, there are serious ethical and safety considerations that need to be taken into account. Many researchers and organizations, such as OpenAI, are committed to developing AGI safely and ensuring its benefits are distributed widely, while avoiding uses of AI that could harm humanity.

Banning AI outright would be counterproductive, as it has many beneficial applications such as improving healthcare diagnostics, enhancing educational tools, optimizing energy consumption, and much more. Instead, it is crucial to continue thoughtful discussions on how to regulate AI and build safe, ethical systems that augment human capabilities, not replace them.

There once was a cat from the moon
Who travelled by hot air balloon
Un-for-tune-ate-ly
The Dog from the Sea
Stopped its trips with a well-aimed harpoon.
My favourite bird is the chough
I do not feel it's lauded enough!
When it tweets on a bough
Or follows the plough
Enjoying the morning is tough.
I can't tell my right from my left!
Then join the Lib Dems. Be deft!
To be in the middle
And harmlessly tiddle "to busy oneself with unimportant tasks"
Till of reality you are bereft.
Expecting that things might get worse
I bought me a second-hand hearse
'Cos new ones are pricey
But used - a bit dicey
And it turned out a bit of a curse
When flying to Sirius A
It's vital to park in 'Long Stay'
You'll find it quite warm
And mosquitos do swarm
So stay in the spaceport all day.
I say "Hello" to the moon
Said the dish to the spoon
Hidden textThe only way I can make this scan is if I read your name as part of the move, Software 8o/

Rosie - I say Hello to the moon
On those days when the world's out of tune
Then I take my trombone
And create a sound cone
So I don't feel like a loon.
By a strange constellation of chances
I've been invited to sev'ral séances
Once the 'plasm starts flowing
And my chakras are glowing
The meeting it really enhances
It was, I admit it, a fluke
But I'll not take your scathing rebuke
The records will show
That I vanquished my foe
Using every last trick in the book
Chicka-boom, chicka-boom, chicka-wow
- Not a typical sound for a cow
It's ill - got The Lurgi
And is all Heisenberg-y
And it's on an-ti-biotics for now.
One day, while out driving my car
I spied my true love from afar
Thus sorely distracted
I overreacted
For what happened next was bizarre - tbc
My true love was dressed as a clown
Sure 'nough his trousers fell down
This gender reveal
Became quite a big deal
As I clocked his proverbial [noun]
I awake and the clock strikes thirteen.
So it's time for my swig of poteen
Och aye, and begorrah!
It's already tomorrow?
And yesterday's gone, come and been
I encountered a horse and his boy
As they fled from enslavement in Troy
Hidden textActually Calormen, but as we know from Hercules and Xena, all the old stories happened next door to each other, when there were hardly any miles in the world.
The horse said, "Oh man,"
"We fled from Tashbaan!"
"And now I'm jumping with joy!"
Achilles, it’s said, was a heel
And lacked charismatic appeal
Plus, he had a glass jaw
Which reflected the floor
And made his chin look quite teal.
A day spent in bed? That's a mood.
Of which there can come nothing good.
But a valid invalid
With visage quite pallid
Could do with a little food pronounce it as you will
The heart wants what hearts tend to want.
Like spooning with Norman Lamont
An unusual wish
But he's more of a dish
When served in a greek restaurant
I like me a nice cup of tea
Or some beer, if I get it for free
I don't like hard liquor
It makes me sicker quicker
Than chicory flavour coffee
I'm told that I need to act dumb
So I go around sucking my thumb
When approached and addressed
I whip out my left breast
And offer a swig of black rum.
Congrats all - that made me laugh out loud
Congrats, all, that caused me to lol.
I confirmed with a quick Twitter Poll
But my backside's attached
Though the cheeks are mismatched
ROTFL was the goal.
CLAPCLAPCLAP! Cheese'n'onon all round!
I posted a message on X
Then got banned for a reference to sex
But when I asked Y
E M Z "O my"
"U caused my man muscle to flex"
If we all post on Threads this fine day
We might stop its rapid decay
So leave it to rot
As if you forgot
and you quite lost your thread... to... um...


Hey,...




I once drew an interesting graph
With x showing time, and y, staff
The results were quite silly
And my friends were quite chilly
- I'm the largest employer in Llandaff.
Here's a thing, up with which I won't put:
The use of the phrase "to step foot". true story
And yet, "give a hand"
Is still in demand
When ones face is covered in soot
After boarding a plane to Mumbai
We went up alarmingly high
As the Earth fell away
I was tempted to say
"I'm a Bollywood star in the sky!"

(Just call me Apo-ji)
It's an Indian Summer we've got
We know, 'cos it's bloody hot!
This unseasonal spike It's only just autumn; I think calling it an Indian summer this soon is pushing it a smidge
A gross thermal hike
Hidden text(SM) You are more correct than you realise. Calculations based on the 40-year record at Plas Huws show that the warmest 3 months of the year end on average on 8 September, i.e. tomorrow, which will be another sweatfest.
Causing boils, heat prostration and  CENSORED  rot.
There's a widespread opinion that Sid
Was more vicious than Billy the Kid
But Celsa and Nancy
(Girls that I fancy)
Were dreadful, and landed in Knidd. I think that's how you spell it.
Yr Wyddfa? I've walked to the summit!
The train is so cheap you could bum it (Pj) Yr wyddfa means "the tomb"
I admit that the height
Leaves my head feeling light
And I fear I won't walk down, but plummet.
Chipping Sodb'ry's the place (Raak) Neat
If you want to get punched in the face.

Maybe that needs a scansion tweak:
Chipping Sodbury isn't the place
(If you value the shape of your face)
I'm told it's not pretty (Proj) OK - not not of my better ones.
Despite a committee
For balance of gender and race.
There's six of 'em up in my attic!
They're giving my radio static
They're hooked up to 5G
At the back of each knee
They've always been pretty erratic
My grandfather's contrabassoon
Can be heard, so they say, on the moon
Its mellifluous tones
Rattle teeth, shatter bones
But it can make an elephant swoon
My cat's clarinet, au contraire,
Is irreparably plugged up with hair
And that's a Good Thing
'Cos 'e can't make it sing
(But alas, he had ordered a pair.)
The Wolf in the woods had the horn
And practiced each Sunday at dawn [keeping it musical]
The slumbering sheep (SM) spoilsport
Woke at the first peep
And bleated at him with some scorn.
A hamster seen playing the flute
Would be a bit of a hoot
Would be more than a bit of a hoot, I'd suggest.
An owl on the cello
Plays something more mellow
To back the sweet song of the newt.
A timpani-playing amoeba
And a Yankee saxophonist zebra
Met up with a lynx
In front of the Sphinx
But that's gotta be better than Bieber I feel quite forced
The old folk of Chalfont St Peter
Feel that HS2 would have been neater
Had the track been aligned
Oh no. Refresh page double post. Apologies.

• Chalky - The old folk of Chalfont St Peter
• Projoy - Feel that HS2 would have been neater
• goldfinch - Had the track been aligned
Per the plan that was signed (two days is long enough to wait)
As OK for just a two-seater.
When walking the Appian Way
(Appi was drunk, by the way)
With Grumppi and Sneezi
Both feeling quite queasi
We still made Brindisi by day
The mushroom on which I was seated
Soon began to feel centrally heated
It then spoke to me
Hallucinogenicly
(I suspect that my brain had been pleated).
This warm portobello recliner
Is a mushroom that couldn't be finer
Tilts any direction
With supine perfection
And manufactured in China.
This felt is quite fuzzy to touch
(Though I'm worried it isn't quite "butch")
And what's more it itches
(Are those ticks in the stitches?)
(Or weevils, or some other such?)
Comes the night, comes a change, comes a fear
Comes a need for a good pint of beer
And goes by the wayside
Let's cross to the dayside
Do the clocks get put back around here?
For the last time, the clocks have gone back
Away with this autumnal slack!
But the clock on my cooker
Looks crook, getting crooker
I'll just have to hit it - thwack!
Oh, the fear of an empty white page
The start's the most difficult stage
I'll begin in a bit
Oh, it’s hard, isn’t it?
Damn this Infinite Monkey Cage
The Tuesdayish feelings I have
As I sit here and strain on the lav
Regretting that curry
And the seventh McFlurry
And that third slice of passionfruit pav.

My gastrointestinal woes
Have not yet affected my nose
At my doctor’s suggestion
I've hastened digestion
In it comes, through it goes - "There she blows!"
In the forest, the forest, the dark
Where nothing stirs. But hark!
The Jabberwock waiting
In hope of a mating
Then the forest, the forest, the dark.

It is often the case that my aunt
Will pause to insist that I can't

I interrupt: "Can!"
And bring in my gran
“—no, you can’t play with Gran’s ear implant.”

It is often the case that my dad
Pours scorn on the latest "yoof" fad
But I found his Zoot Suit
And stale cheroot loot
He claims they'll be "back" in a tad.
Seems Dad was a "Ted" in his day
Pints of Brylcreem to make his hair stay
And those winkle-pickers
elicit some snickers
But the drainpipes blew all away
It is often the case that my Mum
Took umbrage when I sucked my thumb
Poor Umbridge, nice place
(but thumb stayed in face)
But my dad didn’t mind, not a crumb.

It is often the case that my Dad
Talks of lives he might somehow have had
Had he taken the chance
And moved over to France
He would have been labelled a cad.
It is never the case that my son
Stops his laces from coming undone
Despite double bow
And a lot of velcro.
He always trips up on a run.
It is sometimes the case that my daughter
Does not always do what she oughta
She stays out at night
And she looks such a sight
But satisfies the riff-raff who court her.
Line up on this board by the pool
In height order, you know the rule
On my count of three
All bend at the knee
And shed a world-ranking stool
When at the North Pole you'll see
Santa Claus on an Amazon spree
With one-click aplomb
You can send him a bomb
Which he'll give to kids who are naughty.
In April I open my bill
In the hope of a gobful of krill
Instead, there was sewage
And what's more (the worst bit)
It's making me feel rather ill
As we come to the end of the year
Let's let fly with this impotent jeer:
I'll cut off your balls
Which I'll nail to the walls
Instead of holly and ivy, you hear?
Such seasonal violence aside
Let peace rule on this Christmastide
Let's all just chill out
You'd better not shout.
Pull a cracker – BANG – oops, the peace died.
Cold turkey is no kind of fun
And a sign that the roast's underdone
Fruitcake's no good
So gimme Christmas Pud
While I wait for the year's course to run
The secret for succulent meat
Lies down at the end of our street
Those burgers are yummy
For they're flame-grilled with honey
So no need to go on to sweet
My cat had a wonderful Yule
E'en though he behaved like a tool
He chainsawed the tree
And ate the budgie
So I’m rehoming him in Kabul
It will now take some weeks for my belly
To shift from in front of the telly
My brain, too, is f****d rhyme it as you wish
But there's two Roses left!
Shall I have 'em? Why, yes! On your nelly!
It is grim and I want for some sun
But the rain and the fog aren't quite done
And tonight, snow and ice
Will be playing at dice
With hailstones (for even more fun!)
This was fun, but I have to be going
Next morning for Cambridge I’m rowing
The cox says my stroke
Needs that much more poke
And I must ditch the hamper I'm towing
The whales off of east New South Wales
Are relaxed about storms, floods and gales
Well, some like it rough
(Orcas surf in the buff)
But enough off-the-cuff whale details.
Have you recently fallen in love?
I wouldn't quite call it that, bruv
Then have you been dating?
I'm equivocating
Such pedestrian stuff, I'm above
As the weather grows colder and colder
The White Walkers roam south ever bolder
No wall is too high
The zombies draw nigh!
Someone stop them! We need a door-holder!
Here's the carrot and there is the stick
So which are you going to pick?
The choice is so hard
Like picking a card
Incentives should best do the trick.
The cave where the blue monkeys dwell
Has a very particular smell
Of typewriter ribbon
And erudite gibbon
So pongy, and funky as well.
O, to follow a winding canal
To somewhere more calm (not banal) Margo Leadbetter vowels invoked
With Prunella Scales
Whom Basil fails
With fawlty unsafe rationale
Sail a boat, bonny girl; be at peace.
You'll find all your problems will cease (Chalky) Classy, that
Your peace is assured (Rosie) too kind, dear chap
For the time you’re unmoored
If you keep all your rollocks well-greased.
When one tunes in to Radio 1
One will wish that one hadn't've done.
For it's radio crap
(moans the grumpy old chap)
It's like tuning in to The Sun Would rather not have used 'tune in' again but couldn't think of anything else that scanned.
While listening to Radio Two
- Which is what one would rather not do -
I was bored out my mind
Then thought "search and you'll find"
'I'm Sorry I Haven't A Clue'
Go to bed in a bitter bad mood
And then breakfast on mountains of food
Then maybe you'll find
Your bogrolls unwind
To keep pace with the quantities pooed
The rate of inflation's insane
By the time I wrote this line, the gain
Is forty percent
So I live in a tent
As for cash, I have naught but disdain.
When one listens to Radio Three
(Which is not at all smug or snobby)
One's erudite taste
Does not go to waste
With Darjeeling as one's choice of tea
Now Radio Four's for the few
Such as those who Haven't A Clew
And those who like Ambridge
Or speak the welsh language
Tuned in from Lundy in a canoe.
(Chalky) Ofnadwy! Ti'n medddw neu rhywbeth?
Radio Caroline for me is the best
For those who are pop tune obsessed
But if you like jazz
Scuttle Radio Caz
And give Tony Blackburn a rest.
There's four thousand holes in the hall
Through which the kobolds will crawl
Even Superman quails
His power fails
So holes blocked, therefore, sod all.
There’s nine million bikes in Beijing
Each with a bell that goes ping
They fly through the dawn
And park on the lawn
Against the law of Comrade Xi Jiping
When the clock strikes out four steady chimes
It's the signal to set loose the mimes
Whose blitheness of spirit
Is of great mirit NZ pronunciation invoked
And moves along with the times
There isn't a reason I know
Why the cat should be starting to glow
Perhaps it's on heat
And hoping to meet
A cool cat to lay on a show.
I'm feeling some strange feelings, man
And I’m not sure it’s part of the plan
I seem to be joined
(While my reason’s purloined)
By James Bond in a VW van.
I've just taken leave of my senses
And I've start to relinquish my tenses
My ego is stilled
Libido killed
Ennui's destroyed my mental fences.
A spell at the track, watching dogs
In pursuit of fake hare each dog jogs
But a jog supersonic
(and that's NOT a mneumonic!)
Cannot be achieved wearing clogs.
It grows in each corner, like mould
When the air becomes stale, damp and cold
But if rats intervene
Just apply margarine
A rodenticide, so I am told.
If it's butter you seemingly lack,
Then make use of this genius hack:
Find a dandelion field
And ‘neath your chin wield
A small knob of Danish Lurpak
All the poems that ever were written
Can't compare to the new of a kitten
*mew
BIFURCATION!

But "new what?" you may ask | That soprano cry
Well! Let onlookers bask | Could bring tears to the eye
And they'll note that I've just been bitten/And a language that's yet to be written
Hmmm... Let's see if this one goes any better. :)

The most desperate words ever spoken
I exclaimed as I woke in Hoboken:
"Send Marmite! And cheese!"
"And some toasted bread, please"
And a 50p gas meter token!
[CdM] Another flub. 50P? In Hoboken? Woe, lackaday etc 8o)
All the dreams of my youth are long faded
All my sensuous tastes are long jaded
I shall lie in my bed
And watch TV instead
Then wink out, just the way the display did
Now the arc of my plan's more a spike
What's that? Speak into the mike
A bang then a whimper
A fart and a simper
(And the heckler can get on his bike)
[R,R,C,P] Now that was a limerick!
(CdM) Agreed. Top-drawer.

Can the real Mister Shady stand up?
So that we can present the cup
And a small piece of paper
Freshly dropped by a vaper
Which proves his real name is Miles Jupp
I am a Morniverser
May I revise as I think you put a glow worm in the limericks (and vice versa)
I play in the Morniverse games
Wearing gold-plated spectacle frames
But have noticed of late
That they're losing their plate
So I guess it's time for new frames.
Be young and be foolish, he said.
So do it now, before you are dead (Pj) Yeah, funny stuff, alcohol. A small molecule that goes round the brain pulling out a few plugs.
Because once you're deceased
Turns out everything's leased
Sink your gold in a cask lined with lead.
O! Were it not for my vanity
I'd eschew this vexatious insanity
I’d cast off my qualms
Call out saws; sing out psalms
I'd live in total inanity
Oh, I wish I'd looked after me teeth[1]
'cos for now they just need a wreath
All the toffees I chewed
And the plaque I accrued
Means they're not even fit to bequeath To some lucky relative, obvs. :-)
On the day that the music ceased living
I remember that I was then giving
Out newspapers, news
Of the dry levee blues
And such heartbreak went deep like a shivving
While rooting around in my shed
Up with which I soon got fed
Then off with which pissed
Hidden text [RtG, P, g, C] Beautiful— particularly the lovely and unexpected closing line. I am not sure if the echo of “shiver” from the opening verse of AP was deliberate (though, knowing Chalky, probably yes), but whether intentional or serendipitous, it was icing on the cake.
I was - you - grabbed my wrist (pass the parse-l)
Which down balloon went like a lead
The legs that I grow in my garden
Need concrete and sun for to harden
And when they are done
With concrete and sun
I'll be stuck; can't move; beg pardon.
I'm refined: I drink sherry and port.
A mixture my grandmother taught
Though she'd also opine
That strawberry wine
Was poison, and lands you in court.
Be awatch, for the tigers may come
Sneak up and bite on your bum
If they come from the side
You’ll be swiftly de-thighed
Leaving one buttock startlingly numb
The most perfect example of karma
Occurs if one unmasks a llama
When their cover is blown
They despairingly moan
They love to make it a drama
Alpacas are much more relaxed
E'en when their patience is taxed
Can I suggest a tweak?:
Though their patience must sorely be taxed
By the wool in their eyes
And so it's no surprise
That they're calmest when recently waxed
So may we now welcome the spring?
Or is it but premature bling?
Should we really focus
On tulips and crocus
Late April, O where wert thy schwing?
Although last month was awfully cruel
Often I come back and re-read these lines, and find the scansion/stress in my head is less clear on the page. :(

Although last month was awfully cruel
So cold it used up my fuel
("...all my fuel"?)
The forecast's Set Fair
For somewhen; for somewhere
So will now head south-east to Kitzbühel
Take one pound of self-raising flour
And some free range eggs into the shower.
Add dandruff shampoo
And a bath bomb or two
Then bake Gas Mark 4 for an hour
I unwisely deployed a molossus
A poetical speed-bump to boss us (Pj) That was difficult
The confounded thing
Took an almighty swing
And impacted my smarting probscis
When it's Friday you don't seem to know it
Then you're told it's the Day Of The Poet
But most say "Thank God"
This verse is not cod Invoking polari
But the lim'rick's a cramped space to show it.
The bin round has started and, phew,
Now diesel fuel's refused - who knew?
Ah! No-one will touch it
But they will take mutt-shit
So my dog's joined the diesel-fed crew.
[Bismarck] Excellent!
It's raining, oh misery, woe.
My home's flooded, oh where shall I go?
On second thoughts, strike the "oh".
Try the roof, for a while
Bed down on pantile?
Failing that, well, just go with the flow
I've acquired a decanter for whisky
But there’s no call to be so tsk-tsk-y
Let's have no half measures
Simply the pleasures
Of raising the urge to get frisky.
In the process of looking for flowers
I was caught in a series of showers
But I had my brolly
And wellies, by golly
Such meteorological powers!
Rising early, I wended to Wales
To research the fledging of snails (They take to the wing and leave the nest mid-June or so, I believe)
I've spent my whole grant
So now I just can't
Deny that it's one of my fails.
A while ago I had this thought:
For greater scansion clarity, given that the line could also be read iambically
A while ago I had this thought:
Can a poetic licence be bought?
Or is it innate?
Let's ask the laureate
Just nick one but do not get caught. It is I, Rosie
My darling cannot understand
Why her planes can't be friends with the land
They circle above
Sighing deeply with love
This whole verse is rather bland
Everything I have done, or would do
I'd do it again, painted blue
I've bought futures in woad
So I'll make a load
Now I own this hex color code too
"Hast seen the white whale?" Ahab cried
It's white on only one side!
On the other — who knows!
Look out! Thar she blows!
”My God! That side’s—”. Then he died
In this bitter and blind and bleak land
Hidden textCompleting my Yeats sequence: I had this thought a while ago / My darling cannot understand/ What I have done, or what would do / In this blind, bitter land
That fell unmade from God's wearied hand
I see nought but crap
Oh, please give me a slap
In return for this gold Krugerrand
The women are coming and going
(Still refusing to fly on a Boeing)
I too think this wise
(They fall out of the skies)
When you fly, that is something worth knowing.
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