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The Obligatory Limericks Game Reincarnated
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And so it begins....
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Since then I’ve had fat greasy lips
The shop's deep fat fryer
Discharged its entire
Greasy load down on me - head to hips

The last three made me guffaw almost audibly here in the office.
There once was a man of the fens
Whose face was all covered in wens
This spotty visage
Clocked my décolletage
Having already clocked pen's. No guffawing, please.
There was an old man of the seas
Who enjoyed his shipboard high teas
He liked cream on his scones
And a skull with his bones
But no pie with his rate, if you please
There was an old man of the plains
Who prayed for the start of the rains
But a large inundation
Caused great consternation
Since Severn Trent buggered the mains.
A lady of uncertain age
Met an old man who lived in a cage
She said: "My dear man"
"I have lived in a can"
"As one must when on minimum wage"
A man with a Cheshire cat grin
A victim was of his own spin
But he knew in his heart
That he needed to fart
For it's better let out than kept in.
A lady constructed of iron
Was placed on a plinth on Mount Zion
Her mute ferric gaze
And Thatcherite ways
Is what Dave Camer-on keeps his eye on. Sorry about that.
A child made of sugar and spice
Her wedding will come at a price
But while she's a girl
Watch her hip, skip and twirl
And don't dwell on financial advice

Can't say I enjoyed the direction that limerick was taking - and it was beginning to annoy me - hence the mercy killing :-(
Young Mikey's a finicky lad
And also a terrible cad
He's fussily lewd
and not very shrewd
And Mondays he’s jerking like mad
It seems like a terrible waste [Chasty] Have you met Nemesis646?
Not to eat this delectable paste
But what makes me pause
Are these small waving claws
P'raps discretion is better than haste
There once was a curate of Ghent
Who put up a sign: "Faith for rent",
A passing young scholar
Hired a dog collar
And gave up his old ways for lent
There once was an old yoga master
At a bar with a Methodist pastor
One stood on his head
The other just bled
Their date was an utter disaster
*laughs out LOUD*
SWM, 34,
Offers cuddles, romance and much more I've read these in the past - does it show?
For nights out and in
Drinking tonic and gin
Just knock three times on the front door.
Sorry, forgot the line...
The skill to draw lines we must train
And how to make Bold learn again
The scansion dear friend,
One must not bend
Or we put in much work for small gain.
"It's enchanting to meet you, dear lady"
(I never thought that I'd meet Kate Adie)
You're said to be tough
And a bit of hot stuff
No wonder your chin’s a bit shady
I can't help but notice that bulge
In your midriff- could you please divulge?
Just why you're so fat
So lazy and a brat
And if I can in that indulge?
I know it's not Betjemen but I was seriously wondering where this was going...
Come friendly bombs and fall on Slough! - [Botherererer] This is :)
But not on Maidenhead - for now
'Cos it is so pretty
Compared with White City - refusing to use the obvious rhyme
Does poetic licence allow?
There was a young chap from Nuneaton
Whose great-grandma was Mrs Beeton
And, what is more
Went on a grand tour - likewise refusing the obvious rhyme
Where she met a great bear and was eaten.
I just had a strange kind of tea [Raak] Ha ha
Three dear old ladies and me
We all shared a scone Pronunciation Alert!!
As we had but the one ...which rhymes perfectly in my household
No arsenic or old lace I see
A paste made of tuna and eggs
Is perfect for waxing the legs
Its H2S and amines
Applied every day means
You'll enjoy totally hairless square pegs
Oi you! Yes you - bloke on the left!
Need ya - not yer brains, just your heft
I've a thing here you'll see
That's much bigger than me
And my toe's being crushed. That's why I effed.
A man of the Scottish persuasion
Imbibed haggis at every occcasion
Its earthy bouquet [irach] Imbibed? Haggis?
And appearance risqué
When liquidized is quite amazin' [irach] Correcting the logic ;o)
I've got this idea in my head
I'm lying awake in my bed
I'm turning it over
And over and over
That insomnia's fatal, it's said.
Sleep came like a reluctant gift
As I entered a temporal rift
I started to dream
We were a good team
Me and my time-travelling lift
I finished this poem tomorrow
In a Tardis the Doc let me borrow
Inside it's so spacious
Not to say ostentatious
But it brought me back here to my sorrow...
You travel in time in your dreams
And it's all so confusing, it seems
And Freud made it worse/b>
Which is really perverse
Seeing Sigmund boff 'midst the timestreams
There was a young lady from Tring
Whose bell no-one ventured to ring
Until Uncle Andy
Found a French tickler handy
To do wonderful things to her thing Coat ...
This lady from Tring was no slouch
To this Uncle Andy will vouch
As he took her back home
In the bath - watch that foam !
She accepted and never said "Ouch!"
I once met the purest of maids
During one of the drug squad's house raids
Her stuff was so pure
And she so demure
"Coochie-Coo" she piddled on my suedes
The girl with the dishevelled hair
And the quite unfeasibly large pair
Posed nude for a mag
Which makes her a slag
And made quite a star of the chair let's move it along...
I looked in the mirror and thought
"This wig that I recently bought unfinished quote alert
seems to make me look odd
Like a cross between God
And an unkempt old dishevelled sot"
I just won a medal of gold
For an act that was truly quite bold
At Tiananmen Square
I wore, for a dare,
Some brogues bought in Stow-on-the-Wold.
The inclement weather today
Wind, rain and heavy cloud - grey
If you're wise - stay inside
Where your shoes can be dried
But don't throw the beach towel away A bit of an emergency finish... with optimism for more sunshine, geddit?
I should never have meddled with gold
This alchemy stuff's oversold
These mercury fumes
And sulphurous spumes
Made me bald and my face looking old
The wrinkles and lines on my face
Keep my rugged good looks in their place
These fine indentations
Give gals palpitations
And that's why they shun my embrace
A wizard, a sage and a witch
All gathered to summon a lich
It paused at the gate
Where its skeletal state
Was so bad that it fell in the ditch
September - so nice warm and dry,
Now rain doth pour from the sky
And now -- Christ! it's snowing!
The climate is going..........
...awry - now it's time kiss this summer goodbye!
....and scansion with it, I see.
A tropical hurricane, Ike
Has winds faster than I ride a bike
Except when pursued
By a bloke in the nude
Who thinks that I'm Natalie Pike
You cannot beat sausage and mash (Kim) McGonagall lives!
It's the best you can get for your cash
Whereas chips and fish
Is a very fine dish
When served on the front page of Flash
While tuning the new Cern collider
I got shitfaced on Diamond White cider
It had a strange charm
So I chanced my arm
Last night I had a 'big bang'
When I threw my brand new boomerang
As it hurtled back
Through the starry ink-black
It hit my head with a clang Fed up with this one sitting here, now quickly moving on ...
The things that one keeps in the loft
Are oft fluffy and cuddly and soft
So set a mouse trap
Among all that house crap
Then bin what the rodent half-scoffed.
An aardvark who imbibed ant-acid
Soon found his proboscis all flaccid
His face, it went red
Like litmus, it's said
Leaving him feeling quite placid
"Oh sir!" cried the maid in distress
"My pic's in the tabloidy press"
"I was at a party"
"Dressed up really tarty"
"In my scanty new 'see-through it' dress"
Tonight is the V.P. Debate
So will it seal Ms. Palin's fate?
Can a hockey mom whatever the hell that is
exhibit aplomb
When her kid's up the duff and out late.
The world of finance - it is tottering
We'll all be reducèd to squattering
While those "in the know"
Just rake in the dough
In a way that's very unflattering
My pockets are now filled with dough
I can feel the yeast making it grow
I'll have plenty of bread
Or else, in its stead
The bulge will make her eyes glow
The camera, it's said, never lies
Even if one dons disguise
Dolly Parton with beard
Or your face with clay smeared
Won't hide that you've ate all the pies
"Shall we move a bit nearer the fire?"
"The heat will inflame our desire"
"But what if the glow.. unfin
Starts to melt my big toe?"
Wouldn't that just be too dire?"
All Hallow's Eve was a treat
Except for my melted feet
i walked through the flames
'Cos it's one of my aims
My footprints to set on Fleet Street
A new president has been elected
His cabinet will soon be selected
And Hil'ry, no doubt It has been established in another place that non-smutty limerics rarely rhyme or scan properly
Will not be left out -
Thank goodness that Palin's rejected
A wind of change blows from the East [i,R,K,J,S] Bravo! Most salient
As bakers bake breads without yeast
Mamas noodles we cook
Into sticky gook
That's the supper that we like the least
A shortage of eager lim'rickers
A surfeit of scansion nitpickers
Some grammar pedants
Repeating their chants:
"Indefensible mouse-clickers."
So what makes a humorous rhyme?
And are limericks on the decline?
Then again, clerihews
Have been making the news
For their value is rarely, if ever, revealed in the length of the ultimate line.
While scoffing a large box of chocs
I decided to take off my socks
They smelled like old cheese
Which caused me to wheeze
And cough up a collection of rocks.
Last night while I lay in my bed
I pondered the book I'd just read
The hero, I'm sure,
Was no epicure
Subsisting on baked beans and bread.
My first is in bed and asleep Limeriddles, or something. Or not.
My second is still counting sheep
My third's a surprise
And my fourth does arise
And of the fifth, you won't hear a peep I think we were all stumped on that one. Moving along now...
While I was putting the lights on my tree Xmas theme.
I felt a sharp pain in my knee
Oh, my patella
Get me codeine, young fella
And watch my low limb swinging free (below the knee that is...)
The fluff of my navel is gone
Thanks to this invent-ion
It sucks up the lint
Leaves the fragrance of mint
A cosmetic sine qua non.
When you've got to the top of your game
You should quit well before you're thought lame
For an ageing has-been
Should never be seen
As a resplendent pantomine dame
At Christmas we eat and we drink
But sometimes I have a deep think
My kids then say "Dad,
How much gin have you had?"
Was it Gordon's? Or p'raps was it pink?"
It's almost two-thousand-and-nine
The year of both roses and wine (hopefully)
And juxtaposition
Though price of admission,
Is more than its worth every time
There was a young lad from Bordeaux
Who crossed a Cabernet grape with a Gordo
The juice, when fermented, [irach] I'm reporting you to the Scansion Commission
Made drinkers demented
And girls, though quite chaste, set aglow
A scansion policeman named Bob
Was really quite keen on his job
To such an extent
('bout 200 percent)
That a few syllables he would rob
Please don't put your trash in the bin
To throw anything out is a sin
So recycle all waste
All in good taste
And swallow this Scotch mixed with Gin
The problem with being middle-class
Is that it can be a pain in the arse
The upper crust, though
Are smug 'cause they know
That where there is muck, there is brass
But if you're as common as muck
No silver spoon - no such luck
Get your ar*e on TV
As a Cel-e-brit-ee
And try not to use the word that is now in widespread use in the media, something I thoroughly disapprove of despite my frequent use of it in private conversation.
Big Brother's a load of cheap tat Is this what you mean, Rosie?
The F-Word's no better than that Is Gordon Ramsay the chief culprit, Rosie?
But fortunate-lee (Softers, Kim) Yeah, that sort of thing.
I don't watch TV
And that's why I am such a brat ...
When lines do not follow the rule
Some bullys cry out "What a fool!"
"And as for your plurals" ....next line difficult....
"Worse than epidurals"
But being a rebel is cool
If you chant 'Rule Britannia' out loud
Stiff upper lips will stand proud
But! Say 'God Save the Queen',
And you'll cause a scene
– You'll have to leave under a cloud
There's no roy-al-tee for us Yanks
We make do with missiles and tanks
We drive pickup trucks
That we buy using bucks
And we spend all your oil saying: Thanks !
In Texas they say "Howdee y'all"
In Yorkshire "Ay-up"'s what they call
But in SW3
They say naught - you trust me
They write Limerick lines - what a ball!
There was a young fellow from Penge
Who decided to take his revenge
On his great-aunt from Poole
With a long-handled tool
he twisted her nose with a wrench
The bishops of Penge and of Poole
Were fond of the odd game of boules
But their cup ranneth over
When a straw-chewing drover
Showed them his family jewel ...hat and coat, please...
Dear Fraulein my Glüwein is cold
Bitte, will you mein Glüwein please hold
While I trinketh my beer
Please nibble my ear
And do anything else that is bold

As I stood on the top of K2
I thought "I did all this for you!"
"I brave the fierce wind"
"My career I've binned"
"But it's worth it, just look at the view!"
As I squelched through the mudflats of Kent
I pondered the reason for Lent
'Tis to boost sales of fish
I mused, with a wish
From the Humber, the Thames and Solent mercy!
The hardest of crimes to detect [pen] What about the Trent?
[Darren] I'm foreign now, and don't know those things. Axshully, I forgot it.
Are those that’s performed so perfect
But with Marple and Co
And with Poirot in tow
It'd be im-poss-i-bull to confect
The Severn, the Trent and the Dove
Flow with the rains from above
But in times of drought
They must do without
And rowers must get out and shove
When an Aberdeen lad went to Perth
He found out just what he was worth
When he looked at the cheque
He thought: "What the heck,"
"Give me haggis. To hell with my girth".
When travelling to Aberdeen
I turned to look back where I'd been
And ran off the road
Upset my load
Of hand-woven pink gabardine
The Clan of MacLean-Cameron
Was once a great power that's now gone
All the blood that was spilt
Down the front of my kilt
Leaves my dry-cleaner feeling forlorn
I stood on the platform at Crewe
As I wondered just what I would do
If my train was delayed
Would that fact be displayed?
And would there be time for the loo?
When you surf on the roof of a train
You need the bumps fell in your brain
Don't touch the live wire (Softers) Wossat mean, den?
Or you might catch on fire I think he meant "felt on"
And with angels you'll sing the refrain
If you surf on the roof of the tube
You should rub yourself over with lube
Keep a profile that’s low
Pray you don't need the po
Or you might be seen as a n00b
If you surf on the mighty ocean
Dab on lots of sun-tanning lotion
Keep a profile that's high
– Imitate Captain Bligh!
Completely devoid of emotion
The chocolate chicken is here!
Because it's that time of the year
So I'll be a feaster
A cioccolatista,
So I'll crush it to bits, never fear!
The problem with watching ballet Limerick challenge: no "gay".
As I once heard Nureyev say Easy, so far
"Those padded dance belts
Do leave me with welts
In places I really can't say."
I've chosen to learn how to box
Replacing those gloves with two socks
Though the gloves on my feet ...kickboxing...?
Do look very neat
They don't help when throwing out knocks
They're rubbing - my Crocodile shoes,
It's jarring - my singing the blues
My pain's the refrain
These shoes are my bane
Their scales yield mine awful reviews
My big toe is throbbing with gout
But I shan't take the easy way out
Instead I shall hop
To the cutlery shop
Carve my shoe to a nice bulging-out
Poor Darling, I’ll buy you a pint
They're costly - the taxes are gi'ant
I'll make it real ale of course
Cos you're looking so pale
And all on expenses; please sign 't.
"My lines are so close to perfection," Well, not mine - yours!
No-one can raise an objection
The words, they just flow
Like the times when I "go"
My stream never needs a correction apologies all around...
[Juxtapose] Why apologise? It's much cleaner than the line which popped into my head. (Which is why I didn't play it!)
(Darren) Agreed. It's Raak who's the dirty bugger.
There was a young lad from Belgrade trad.
Who wished to get Tinker Bell laid
His fairy-like dream
Made Peter Pan scream
for it wasn't his croc he displayed.
A pudding fell out of the sky
And before I could say, "Goodness! Why--"
This "manna from heaven"
"Is four pounds forty seven!"
That is cheap for an airborne cow pie!
A man from the planet of Mars
Kept carbon dioxide in jars
Its greenhouse effects
Encouraged safe sects
So it's highly endorsed by the stars
An image from telescope Hubble
Depicted a great cosmic bubble
At the edge of known space
Which resembles the face
Of old Patrick Moore, but with stubble.
While sunning myself on the beach
I noticed a very fine Peach
I stroked its soft skin
[Raak] Her soft skin, I was hoping.
Surely no sin
Then licked off its sweet juicy leach ...
This beach once was filled with white sand
But things have not gone as we planned
For, as you can see
It's filled with debris
Teen beach parties should really be banned
It says on the side of this tin
BEWARE: there's traces of nuts within
You could break out in hives
When the doctor arrives,
He'll throw the whole lot in the bin.
I once met a maid from Regina Limerick challenge: clean
Who cherished her old Morris Minor Will that do, Juxt?
She kept it so clean
It dazzled the Queen
Whose Bentleys are not any finer ... [Juxtapose] There...clean as a whistle...
True Lim'ricks are not to be clean,
It's tempting to show the obscene
They must also be witty     BTW, Radio 3 is currently having a competition to compose serious limericks. Maybe we could try one here?
Coherent, not bitty
And polished right up to a sheen
Not only by bread doth man live   Going for a serious limerick. Titter ye not!
Not so much to receive as to give
Which lifteth the soul
For those on the dole
Or those with pockets like a sieve.Maybe I should apologise...
There was a young man from Peru (pen) No, no, not at all. Pretty good for a Dutch speaker.
Who bought a bright pink cockatoo
With very long legs
That laid polka dot eggs
While waving the tail - oh so blue The parrots of course!
There's thunder and lightning about
Don't panic. There's no need to shout.
I heard you first time
There's no reason or rhyme
It’s Thor who have just found his stout
My uncle, who lives in Cleckheaton
At snooker, has never been beaten
His all-out attack
By using the black
And pot it with super cue treatin’
The balls that were hit with his cue
Followed a path that was true All right, doesn't quite rhyme.
His peerless precision it does in America, Rosie
Was met with derision
But from the crowd there came a very loud "BOO"!
*Ahem*, I think, Mr Mac, we'll just draw a line under this one and call it a warning....
My auntie, who lives in Llangollen
Complained over legs that were swollen
Her acute phlebitis
Makes her dance like St. Vitus
O! How the mighty are follen No rhymes at all in that one :-)
In a nice little village in Kent
The priest found his coffers were spent
So he held a church fête
Where his needs were all met
By a choirboy behind the beer tent
Hidden textNot my greatest scansion, but if French pronunciation is fine, then so is American stress.

The good folk of Dwygyfylchi
While pond'ring the nature of time
I found myself covered in slime
This temporal gunk
Was spread out but shrunk
So I choked but performed a great mime
Two words; the first rhymes with 'bee'
Said the flea with a brie on his knee
The debris on the brie
Would be tea for the flea
But gives heebee-jeebies to me
"But what is the word?", asked the flea
To a bee that just wanted to be
Just known for spelling
So he wasn't telling
The number of words, was it three?
"The first word", the flea announced brightly
"Is one that is used almost nightly."
Like 'barhop' or 'beer'
And 'gay' but not 'queer'
Then the flea hopped away quite politely
When swimming, remember this tip
First give your big toe a quick dip
And if the water is wet
And that it will be I bet
Down to your trunks you can strip
Good morning, we sail with the tide
As Captain, I can make you a bride
So make one for me
Or perhaps two or three
And a groom, but please keep him aside
Beware the man in the moon
He will gouge out your eyes with a spoon
He'll feed you green cheese
Swap over your knees,
Then he'll seal you in a cocoon
It is much like a cloud that I wander
My time and my effort I squander
But I do have one goal
To bring joy to my soul
By watching the free wild blue yonder
Those magnificent men who all fly
Weird flying machines in the sky
Sometimes they go up
With a huge champagne cup
"Bollocks to RyanAir", they cry.
I've invented a falling machine!
It's gravity driven and green
You just start it like this
If you blink you will miss N.B. unfinished sentence
It's operation so swift and serene
I'll admit that the landing is rough
More so if you're landing on tuff
Then you'll bounce up again
In consid'rable pain
And out you will go with a snuff
One day on the M25
I was glad to have emerged alive
Though I killed 23
The parking was free
I really must learn how to drive.
A tool every gardener needs
Is one to eliminate weeds
This novel invention
will garner attention
From Sturminster Newton to Leeds
I once knew a young chiropractor
Who worked patients back with his tractor
Although efficacious
His bills were mendacious
With most patients sustaining a fracture
If you're set on becoming a quack
It helps to acquire the knack
Of dispensing green pills
And then issue great bills
Then slip out the door at the back
The things that I keep in my shed
Are not what I'd want in my bed
The difference, you see,
Is the rake next to me
That I swapped for the bitch that I wed
The reasons for not being here
Is so abundantly clear
My hard disc has crashed (Softers) Is = Are?
My graphics card's trashed
And my keyboard is covered in beer
The reasons for being here are many (pen) Pimm's I would have believed.
To critizize speling and meter, any?
But our true raison d'être
Of which we are les maîtres
Is that we are all rather zany
Let's drink to the flamboyant Floyd
Who'll now fill the bow-tied chef void?
With a glass of champagne,
You'll remove any pain,
And remember a man we enjoyed
One night at a bar in Bordeaux
Through a rosy wine-induced glow
i got very cozy
With M. Sarkozy
And woke up in charge of Renault
One day on the wharf in Mumbai
I encountered a Latvian spy
He was armed with a gun the last one was excellent, BTW
So I started to run
And got decked at the docks, then good-bye!
The Irish have voted with "yes"
To convert all their taps to Guinness
So, taking a bath
Will be more of a laugh
Than a matter of hygiene and finesse
The things that she did with her tongue
To the snippet of Schubert she sung
Involved much saliva
This pretty muff diver
Until the last note, which still stung [Rosie] I think you'll find it's spelled 'diva' ;o)
The things that he does with his pole
Would even surprise Old King Cole
'Cos with it he'd fiddle
And play paradiddle
On anything sporting a hole
The things he can do with his mind
If acted would make him go blind
And he thinks he's a hero
Acts like Emperor Nero
Who was not always very refined.
A toothless old hag from Tbilisi
Ran a chip shop whose products were greasy
Her beetroot (deep-fried)
With borscht on the side
Was used as hair oil in Assisi
My brother, who loves in Beirut,
Encountered a typo (minute)
He actually "lives",
Buy - hey now - what gives?
The "Whoops" button didn't reboot.
with some chagrin, -Jux
My auntie, who lives in Tashkent
Has one curly leg slightly bent
While my uncle in Venice
Is nowt but a menace
Who once was arrested in Ghent
"Dear Sir, don't believe all you hear,"
The British do not love warm beer
Nor do they all dress
In the dark, nonetheless
It's well known that the men are all queer.
My sister, who works in Beijing,
Is confused 'cos it once was Peking
And my aunt in Firenze
Is all in a frenzy
'cause my uncle just left for Xiaoping
[Raak] Re: penultimate limerick. That was exactly the last line I had in mind, word for word.
A pleasant young chap from Osaka
Once sailed over Lake Titicaca
In the midst of this trip
Dislocated his hip
And loudly exclaimed, "Anta baka?"
On a raft in the midst of the ocean [Phil] Great minds etc.
Having run out of chamomile lotion
I tried using rum
And some barnacle gum
Applied with a rotary motion
A fearsome great beast, the gorilla
Attacking with sticks, like Attila
But with its own kin
It serves tonic , with gin
Imported each day from Manila
I stood all alone in the bunker
Above flew a bomb-carrying Junker
As I took my sand-wedge
My partner, that's Reg,
Imbibed and got steadily drunker
I just met a man in the street
Oi! you've just done that one in MCiOS With knobbly knees and large feet
His clown shoes and nose
And his three-foot-long toes
In the circus he'd go down a treat
I just met a man in the street [Rosie] Hmm?
Extolling the virtues of wheat
When asked as to why
He said: "I can't lie,"
"I love having corns on my feet"
[Darren] Ooooow.

If you should encounter a chugger

Be wary - he may be a bugger
And the smile on his face
Hides a life of disgrace
For he is Al Fayed, that fugger.
My spleen has a mind of its own
My kidneys do nothing but moan
But my Heart is still beating
My stomach repeating
And the naughty part down there is blown (I'll get the coat and hat myself, thank you...)
While scouring the world for perfection
I discovered this chocolate confection
Which does contain nuts
cocain and cold cuts
Now I'm two inches stouter midsection
The world is imperfect, alas
Ecosystems are fragile, like glass
[irach] Elegant end to the last one. Well done; have an e-biscuit :-)

With one final jolt

The earth will revolt
And kick us all in the ass as our American friends would say.
Americans? Vulgar? Not so!
Nor Britons all snobs, don'cha know
Though the rest of the lot, (Well, not me of course!)
Live in countries too hot
Or places all covered in snow
In Boston they dumped some fine tea
In December, Seventeen-Sev'nty-Three
Out into the bay
Without a tea tray
It tasted just like weak gnat's pee
My hairdresser chatters away (Softers) The strong stuff is OK. Tangy.
About how he's overtly gay
He's into high camp
His wig curled - like a vamp
And he thinks he's the Queen of the May
If it weren't for the mould on the ceiling
I would not have this strange, awkward feeling
That I am about
To be left without
Anywhere that is not damp and peeling.
Each weekend I pursue my hobby
And please, do not think I am snobby
I ride with the hunt
Ride a fine Oxford punt
I'm a toff - and I'm also quite gobby
The dribble that runs down my chin
Gives clues to the state I am in
If frothy it means

(See comments for a line 4 and 5 that jumped out on me)

I've had lunch - Ham and beans [S M] Keep on jumping!
And if not, then I've been at the gin.
I once knew a man from Macau
So yellow - but man - could he bow
But his pale jaundiced skin
And his body so thin
Meant he died - so no bowing for now
Now it's time to prepare for the end !
All the portents and signs that way tend!
Armageddon is nigh
So the soothsayers sigh
You've been posted, alas, to Southend.
The incredible edible egg!
Gives a lift, gives a hand, gives a leg,
Does not give a shit
If Beluga - it's a hit!
And it fits in so well with my keg! (beer-keg that is!)
I'm obliged to point out it's a fact
That dogs who sniff crotches lack tact
But one's pheromones
(The pong of your stones)
Won't stop them - they're caught in the act.
There once was a stone that was wet
In Workington that I would bet Not funny for the residents, I do pity them
It stood all alone
In a No Parking zone
And no-one has dried it off yet
I tried to install a new light
To make my front porch much more bright
But the fuse I did blow
So the light didn't glow
Will I live through this dark, dark, dark night?
I've survived, I'm awake, I'm alive,
Thanks to my sparky mate Clive
I owe him a fiver
As he was the driver
Who drove through the farmers beehive.
Impossible as it may sound
I'm floating three feet off the ground
My odd levitation
Defies explanation
(A bean-propelled jetpack I've found!)
So let's praise the virtues of flatus Jokes about old farts will be treated with caustic soda.
At least let us make a conatus
Strike an ode to one's gas
Which will come to pass
All hail to that which doth deflate us
"The problem," she said, "with your face,
Is your nose is in the wrong place."
And your eyes, either side
Look like eggs - lost and fried
Like Camilla a quite hopeless case
On Tuesday the thirteenth of May
French workers entered the fray
No one knows if they've left
Though all "frogs" are bereft
Is it over? "Mon Dieu, je ne sais!"
In nineteen hundred and thirty
Dvorak suggested that QWERTY usa
Would make a fine song
For keyboard and a gong
But Fats Domino's fingers were dirty
In two thousand seventy-one
A monkey will edit The Sun
We will live in the sea
With our own Mini-Me
Thus my work on this earth will be done - mwaah-ha-ha-hah
In March of 2010
I shall leap from the top of Big Ben
In April I'll land
In the wild Rio Grande
And ride off in the sunset with Sven So that's something to look forward to...
A new cure is out for the flu
It's soup made with barnacle glue
Applied with a spoon
Beneath a full moon
Washed down with a glass of Fitou
I'm climbing the property ladder
Tho' the market's never been madder
This two-up-two-down
In the best part of town
With three toilets to empty my bladder
"Are you sure that you don't want to play?"
He asked as I held my toupee
"Just keep your hair on"
"Cos your head is a square 'un"
"So I'll stick your wig on with this spray"
While stuck in a snowdrift at Shap Road or rail.
I was in need of a pony and trap Invoking Sound of Bow Bells option
But arriving instead
Was a man dressed in red -obligatory-
Who said: "Ho, ho!" and gave me a slap.
The reason for Boxing Day's name
Is act-tew-a-lee rather tame
The story is this
It was Joe Frazier's diss
Who boxed blind against Clay - what a shame!
The correct reason is that our mailboxes get overfilled with christmas-spam...!
My need for posh choccies is sated
To Messrs Thorn-tons I'm related
It's the ones filled with cream
About which I dream
Which make me so fat, I'm inflated.
Ten nine eight seven six five
Four three two, soon the New Year will Jive
There'll be drunkards galore
And sick on the floor
But we've made it, one more year alive!
So let's praise the Tolpuddle Martyrs
Transported for wearing lace garters
For being in drag
Whilst waving a flag
And all that was only for starters!
A scandal has just been exposed!
Sleeping Beauty ne'er slept, she just dozed
And the Prince he was gay
And his lover, José,
Was bisexual, when so disposed.
Are you sure that this road lead to Rome?
The signpost says "IV leagues to Nome"
But that's a diversion
By the Vandal's incursion
Oh sod it, I think I'll go home
The French tailors Toulon and Toulouse
Stitched the Pimpernel's long coat too loose
The outcome was this -
(and was sealed with a kiss)
That he fell for mamsell de la'Cruise
I've got an idea for a game
That's why I'm glad we all came
To this fine-tuned decision
Let's add circumcision
We laugh, we play, we maim.
I think we should just stick to Scrabble
Such joy when with words one can dabble
Deploy your best tiles
Stack your points in high piles
Keep quiet, we don't want your babble
The thing about Trivial Pursuit
Is that friends (who were friends!) will dispute
As the questions reveal
What the players might feel
And knowledge reluctantly salute
My hard drive it needs a defrag
Loading programs is becoming a drag
And it's not "drag and drop"
It's all over the shop-
I'd go on, but you'd think I just brag. The only other rhyme I could think of was "Morag".
SM - what about "slag"?
I think I've got texter's thumb
http://www.rhymezone.com/r/rhyme.cgi?Word=drag&typeofrhyme=perfect&org1=syl&org2=l
I think I've got texter's thumb
It's turned purply-blue and is numb
So the message I send
Will probably end
Up a right load of bollocks, old chum.
If you notice my shiny attire [S,i,R,J,P] excellent!
That is made of brand new barbed wire
Then your eye is quite sharp
So thanks, Twyla Tharp,
For a dress that's my fondest desire.
There are days and besides there are Mondays
Which rarely we find are the fun days
They can sure get one down
From dawn till sundown
Or a week - 'cause today it is Tuesday.
By Jove, what a beautiful van!
At the wheel I can see Princess Anne
She's towing a trailer
On the way to her tailor
While her horn toots a regal pavane.
While waiting for lights to turn green
I polished my horn to a sheen
But the burnishing friction
At the traffic restriction
Turned everything red - ain't that mean?...mercy...?
There once was a game in Vancouver?
At which I was a shaker and mover
I moved and I shook
People gave me that look
But I carried on using my Hoover [Marc] Why the question mark? Just curious
[Chalky] They said there was an Olympic Winter Game going on but I was not sure that anyone noticed (though all TV-channels all over the globe had almost nothing else to show ;-)
In the steep slopes of Aspen she fell,
For a ski-bum who skied oh so well
As she gazed at his pole
An unmarked snow patrol - [Marc] Ah I see. Well I watched loads of it. v enjoyable :)
said "Go for it, love - what the hell?"
While planning a raucous weekend
With my mate, his wife and her friend
We thought that the bed
Would make a fine sled
And wouldn't be this hard to mend
There was a young fellow called Eric
Who climbed to the top of a derrick
Then he climbed down again
Because of the rain
Getting wet made him really hysteric
It's Friday, let's go to the pub
For a beer and a B.L.T. sub
A packet of nuts
And chicks with great butts
In the crowd we may get a good rub?
[irach and Marc] eh? It's not a discussion I really want to get into, but the lines that you two just wrote are either crap or very offensive. Or both.
[pen]If you don't want to discuss a matter, why on earth do you post your remark? Hopefully we did not offend you, at least my line was not directed against anyone in particular. Our lines are well in line with the normal standard of the limericks at this and adjacent sites whether you like them or not.
There once was a man who got lost
[Marc] I wish to register my displeasure, that's why. And yes you did offend me, and your lines were below the standard I have come to expect - they don't make sense without the filthiest of interpretation, they don't scan, and they're laboured.
As on the night train he had dossed (Marc) pen is right - it wasn't one of your better ones.
He woke up at Lands End
Which was sure to offend,
And so out of the train he was tossed
There once was a girl with a butt
So fancy and with a great cut
Its streamlined perfection
Could cause hard erection
For those who had more than one nut!
[Rosie]This one is just for you because you always defend us lonely little girls like the brave White Knight of mc5!
I stare at the moon - it stares back (Chasty) I'm flattered. Have you got her email address? :-)
As I'm out in the park in my mac
And alone in the dark
Sans my girlfriend from Sark
So I'm hoping to score some good crack.
A line that may satisfy all
Runs from far Samarkand to Kirkstall
And if you take the trains
Nobody complains
Once you've covered your arse with a shawl.
Sensibilities are easily shaken
Like when offering the Rabbi some bacon
Or when having to put up with this rhythmically inappropriate heap of steaming ordure. Free-form limericks, anyone?
[Monica and Beck] Please don't worry, Headmaster Rosie may sound a bit peevish now and then. What is meant is probably that you should try to follow the established Limerick rules that you may find here: http://poetry-please.tripod.com/id5.html
For instance:
Your senses are easily shaken
When offering the Rabbi some bacon
Or step someones toes
With lines you compose
For the Mick is easily taken
My mellifluous contra-bassoon
Is best played up on the moon
Where the absence of air
[Rosie] - not getting much sex? I understood this was a recreational activity you sad repressed mare.
[monica (any relation to Monica?)] Like all recreational activities, limericks and sex are both better when done right.
Prevent blowjobs beware ;-)
And ends not a moment too soon
When mixing hot air and stale gas
It is all about volume not mass Yankee pronunciation invoked...
So just wave your fan (irach) Same as Britpron. Even Ian Paisley says mass.
And follow the plan
Outlined in your chemistry class
On Mondays its back to the job
We’ll struggle to make a few bob
So play wi' t'computer
and search for a suita-
-ble way to escape the dull mob. [Kim] Well played.
There was a young fellow whose ears (Kim, Raak) V good.
Would attract derision and jeers
Yet Camilla, his wife
Cut them off with her knife (Oh no, not Camilla??)
And now they're hereditary peers
While planning a trip from Heathrow [Chalks] Bravo!
I thought "Tube". Give it a go
But a dim adolescent
Set light to the Crescent -- WE know what that means ..
And now the whole place gonna blow!
In Cairo the alleys are narrrow
Down which the marchers from Jarrow
Filed one at a time
Off-course for the Tyne
It's a far cry from fish and stuffed marrow
According to George Bernard Shaw
the content of Newton's first law
Was known to the Greeks
To need a few tweaks
Or it stayed where it was, on the floor.
All sailors get wet when they sail
Most whalers will wail when they whale
But anglers who angle
And their maggots they dangle
Will spin to us all a tall tale
A seller of second-hand wigs
Had his stock nicked by one Ronnie Biggs
This infamous blagger
An outrageous swagger
Swapped the lot for a handful of figs
A gourmand who loves parboiled quince
Presented his tart to the Prince
The Prince found her willing
For the price of one shilling
To sit on his face ever since (shame on you guys!)
A nun who was chaste and devout
Thought one day she'd find out
That her promise to God
Was remarkably odd
So she decided to put it about
There once was a redheaded blonde
Who dyed froggies pink in a pond
She claimed that this hue
Would improve their virtue
But they still burped and crapped - she'd been conned.
If we live ‘til we die we get old
Unless we live backwards, I'm told
The path of time's arrow
Is both straight and narrow
So how long 'til I get paroled?
I've not passed this way for a while
And my path is now blocked by a stile
But my Right Of Way
Will ensure that I may
Walk along any road with a smile
I play a dead parrot in skits
And try imitate how it sits
The nails in my feet
Will help to complete
the impression it's all done by twits
A young lady from Burton-on-Trent
Had a figure that seemed heaven-sent
But closer inspection
Revealed imperfection
By then, though, I'd come and she'd spent.
The dreams that she wove in her loom
Were threads of both despair and gloom
But a streak of pure gold
Her future foretold
Once she'd promised the first from her womb
The tiger had vertical stripes
So he bought some nice baby wipes
After a scrub and a rub
Applied to her cub
The stripes turned to spots of three types
It's never too late to give up
Trying to housebreak your pup
So don't let it sit
and just widdle and spit
But the Brummies would say you were tup
The morning of Mr. Magellan
Was spent with Roddy Llewellyn
And this disparate pair
Hunted Lionel Blair
To what end I am leery of tellin'
Driving in ovals is daring
To go topless on beaches is baring
But diving with sharks
When completely starks
Will wake people up, keep'em staring.
Whatever you like is a sin
From sex to a bottle of gin
But a nice cup of tea
Spiked with pure THC (tetrahydocannabinol, that is...)
Makes Hamish and Dougal just grin.
All's good in true moderation
Excess may cause botheration
But a bit here and there
And a pint everywhere
May help to prevent constipation
There's little that's new anymore
We've seen all this stuff once before
The Cycle of Being
Can have one agreeing
That reincarnation's a bore.
There's a man who lives right on our street Well done on that last one, everyone.
Who is said to possess two left feet
His dual sinisterity
And absent dexterity
is a hoot when his two left knees meet
My efforts to drain the Black Sea
Were quite abysmal, you see.
From Romania's edge
I started to dredge
But global warming now does it for free
Today at a quarter to three
I'll have honey for afternoon tea
And then - should I risk it?
A raw egg; just whisk it Yuk.
Then ask her to lap-dance with me
I stare out the window all day
I just want to go out to play
My red vuvuzela
For Nelson Mandela
'Cos he's no musician, they say.
My cursor has turned big and white
And the rest of the screen's black as night
The CD-ROM's beeping
The CPU's sleeping
Hidden textPhotoshop has crashed again.
Just Windows – no reason for fright.
While watching the Test on the telly
Which Waitrose now have near the deli
I dream of steak tartar
And electric guitar
To hide my big muscular belly.
The prodigal son has returned!
Let the fat calf be spitted and turned!
And when it is done
We'll serve on a bun
That's been toasted 'til brown but not burned
I've no time for chitter chatter
I have some paint balls to splatter
You'd best run and hide
And seek scansion guide
Lest the ref call you off for a natter.
In Moscow the smog is disgusting
And Curtain of Iron is rusting
Acid rain is a problem
So, factories? Just nobble 'em
And give that domed Kremlin a dusting
'Tis said by the ones "in the know"
That in April the rain comes as snow
In May, sleet is hail
In June rain and gale
Which only adds to our woe.
While sunning myself on the beach a change in the weather
Tony Blair began giving a speech
With my head in the sand
(I could not take a stand)
Shut him up, please, I beseech.
On my way to the dentist I saw
Something I'd not seen before
Pus oozed from loose molars
And it ran onto the floor!
oops, got it mixed up!
Onto babies in strollers This is the correct one to use.
And then it ran on to the floor! [Perfectly good last line too, I'd say.]
The talented Dr McCoy
Had a bugle. T'was his pride and joy
He'd play it all day
While he sat in the hay
With Sulu, his winsome toy boy
In winter, the sky seems to snow
The flakes flurry as the wind blows!
The will to live withers
The temptation to post: "BANG!<hr>" is overpowering :o)
The weatherman blithers
And we sip our hot red bordeaux ...
With Dickens, Mulled Ale was the thing or was it Mulled Wine?
He preferred it to champagne or bling
But of course, there's a Twist
And with Oliver pissed oblig.
Gruel was bought with the last farthing.
I heard the characteristic sound of a synchromesh eating itself on that last line. Perhaps it's just me though.
Today I met old Mr. Scrooge
Wearing eyeliner, perfume and rouge
With his arm around Cratchit (Sierra M) It ain't just you unless it's just the pair of us.
Whose own make-up did match it
I felt like I needed refuge!
Oh, let's sing an ode to the tench
Of its wonderful barbels and stench
But this tasty fish
If asked, has one wish:
Would be, "throw me back in the trench!"
Would be: "Oh, throw me back in the trench" seems to fit more snugly to me. Are my ears on the blink?
And now let the Cod stir our muse
With a chorus of Bass singing blues
Add in a cow
A bird on a bough
And a sheep makes it "Tweets, Bleats and Moos". - [Rosie/SM] Nope, it's not just you, unless it's just the three of us
Now let's chant on the worth of an eel Well done everyone on that last one
Just one pound a pound - it's a steal
In a sour jelly sauce
And mash, but of course
We must top with stewed eyeballs of Seal!
As I swallowed an octopus whole
I pondered the state of my soul
As its tentacles gripped
Round my spline it just slipped
T'was a bit of a sushi "own goal"
I talk to the trees - no reply
They say not a word - must be shy
I'll summon Prince Charles
To bring organic farls
And other such green stimuli. [Marc, 2 up] Alarming capitalisation, no?
Deep in the Forest of Dean [Tuj] maybe he meant the singer
There lives a cantank'rous old Queen
He dresses in drag
When he goes for a fag
The Yank kind, if you know what I mean!
How do you get text small? A hard break is needed here.
Up in the clouds, lives a moose
He's mauve, with a trace of chartreuse.
He looks kindly down [Kage] The simplest incantation to make small text is to put <small> and </small> around the text you want to disembiggen. Tuj, Software and I have gone a step or two beyond the basics, however.
With nary a frown
As he sips on jicama juice.
A good limerick follows some rules, My line is not a perfect example though. Good hints may be found here: http://freespace.virgin.net/merrick.sheldon/limerickrules.htm
Oft ignored by colonial fools
In time they may learn
That when it's their 'turn'
The limerick monster then drools
We've had too many big spats
And garishly styleless hats [Softers] My point exactly.
With big plume-like feathers
And bunches of heathers awful scansion
Festooned with twenty live rats
Prime the carb! Good! Now, pull on the string! Lawnmowing. Sigh.
Gosh - it started - I can hear it sing!
Its great throbbing roar
Shakes window and door (Softers) Not all God's children got rhythm, it seems.
And birds take quickly to wing
In a lake where thick mists do abound
The kelpie can often be found
This aquatic equine
So hard to define
Eats children, once they have been drowned
In the vale of the shadow of death OK to continue geographic theme?
Lived a gnome who was strung out on meth
This short-arsed stoned tweaker
Drank grog from a beaker
And could stop a big bus with his breath. (Spangle) Very much so, Gary. We do themes quite often.
A dwarf, in the Forest of Arden Geog. and Mythic themes cont'd
Tends an insectivorous plant garden
Though one day after lunch
He had a hunch
He was gone in one munch Sorry KS, we need more syllables!
In a triffid that grew in his garden.
The Humber, the Ouse and the Trent
Each one gave up flowing in Lent
With riverbeds dry
And craft all awry
Wondrin' where all the water had went
As we stood on our boat, high and dry Continuing this riparian theme
We thought the world's end must be nigh
Then down came the rain
Our ark floats again!
Send the wind - for our boat might just fly!

Marc - There once was a lady named Jude, A classic one for a change?
Whose language was vulgar and rude
This foul-mouthed young hussy Oh dear
Was clearly not fussy
About where she verbally pooed. It's Jannit Stwee' Paw'aah!
While poling one day in a punt
A loud hussy called me a runt
So I shouted right back
"It's class, dear, you lack"
Then I poled her backside with a dunt.
While rowing one day down the Dee
I stopped in Llangollen for tea
And when I was sated
My watch indicated
The time was a quarter to three
This paint has gone hard in the tin!
It now has that rhino-like skin (irach) My Dad went to school in Llangollen, where he learnt English.
Yet its shocking pink hue (Rosie)I had come from the US to work on a biotechnology project in Wrecsam and had visited nearby Llangollen four years ago. Lovely place.
Stops me feeling blue
And makes me break out in a grin.
There never was a marshmallow
Made from taconite, asphalt and tallow
But the latest from Lidl (irach) Yes, nice place. But can you pronounce it? You could be forgiven if you can't. "Wrecsam" is a fairly recent Welshification of the original English name. A bit clumsy, seeing that it doesn't obey the rules of Welsh pronunciation if pronounced as "Wrexham" but a change from the usual traffic in the opposite direction (eg Cardiff, Pembroke, Lampeter, Brecon, Barmouth).
Is quite a riddle
Though the flavor, it is a bit shallow.
Oops, line needed!
My mother thinks I need a shave
Crappy scansion:

KagomeShuko - My mum thinks I need a shave
Software - So I'll just have to be brave

[Softers] Worse. What exactly was wrong with the original? It has the same beat pattern as others on this page.
KagomeShuko - My mother thinks I need a shave
Software - And so I'll just have to be brave
I Say, Porter! - My new cut-throat razor
Propelled by green-laser
Was bought off a cockney called Dave
One day while out drinking Real Ale
I heard a most agonised wail
It went "Ralph!" and then "Huey!"
It looked like chop-suey
It happens each time without fail.
"This paté is off!" I exclaimed
"That darned novice chef must be blamed!"
Is what we contrive
Hidden textI just went back over the various verses herein and I believe that the ones in which line three was used to develop the theme in lines one and two seem to give a sense of unified completion whereas those in which line three veers off into new territory end up conveying an unfinished feel more often than not. It doesn't seem to matter much in this scheme of evaluation whether line two takes a sudden left turn. Of course, now I come to think about it, a line two diversion leaves fifty percent more poem time to work through the new idea than a line three unsignalled turn.
Hidden textIn My Opinion, of course, and I'm not suggesting anything needs fixing.
When PETA's petition's defamed
A beetle, a slug, and a squirrel
Named Bernie, David and Cyril struggling for a rhyme
Left Liverpool's shore
For they'd come to deplore
Their mis'rable lives on the Wirral nice work, Spangle!
American Football's more like "hand-egg"
Thanks Phil. But sorry KagomeS - you are making it very difficult for others to play nicely, as they say.
[Sprangle] In my humble opinion it is not better, nor worse, than the average standard these days...
KagomeShuko - American Football's more like "hand-egg"
Marc - And USA pints are more a beer-keg
This isn't a limerick
So we rhyme with a little dick
And light the fuse to the powder-keg ***BoooooM***

There was an old man of East Cheam
Who was known to be "broad in the beam"
His magnificent rump
Was both rounded and plump
And out of his bunghole came steam.
My mother snores like a pig
[KS] Don't you mean your grandmother?
And besides she is awfully big (assuming grandmother for several reasons ;-)
Asleep on her back
All her muscles go slack
And off slip her rings, teeth and wig.
To prevent vi'lent earthquakes one must
Roll in a pile of gold dust
And then drill a deep hole
Eat ragoût of vole
And watch 'Monte Carlo Or Bust'.
The fear of a bursting balloon
Has fettered this worthy Walloon Walloon: n. One of a French-speaking people of Celtic descent inhabiting southern and southeast Belgium and adjacent regions of France.
For a bang in Bastogne
Makes him flee to Boulogne
And wet his brand new pantaloon
In the theatre I'll make a new life!
Away from the trouble and strife
As the curtain ascends
I have four hundred friends
At the end they threw apples and knifes!
"This weekend the office is closed,"
"We're having the furniture hosed"
"All the coffee and crumbs"
are all quoted by Mums
When they're feeling unkindly disposed

So shoot me :^)
No problem! Marc, pass me my gun Well you asked for it Spangle
Multiposters shall die, every one! (Actually, we usually let them off with a keelhauling these days.)
But first we'll keelhaul 'em
Hidden textBut we keelhaul 'em first would have been kinder
Then let rottweilers maul 'em Can't believe the assembled peoples did not object vociferously to Marc's utterly atrocious "knifes".
Then chop off their heads just for fun! (Sorry folks, I saw a lot of rotten apples and knives in the air that night… ;-)
Long ago when all maidens were chaste,
And their stays were laced tight at the waist
Men used to try
All brave men used to try (adding a few syllables...)
With a grip ‘round their thigh
If their legs were sufficiently spaced

He shrugged off their words with distain
Accompanied by this refrain:
"Sticks and stones - hurt my bones,"
Do people get some perverse pleasure out of spoiling this game for others? C'mon man - you've been playing here long enough :^)
Let's see what can be done with this
"Your sticks and stones
May hurt my bones"
But, you see, I'm in love with such pain

He shrugged off their words with distain
Accompanied by this refrain:
"Sticks and stones - hurt my bones,
As do hurled traffic cones
But, you see, I'm in love with such pain"

 ?

[SM] Well done - I didn't see anything wrong with Marc's line either, which uses a correct anapaestic rhythm. I would like to object to no-one picking up on the incorrect spelling of "disdain" though.
[Phil] I overlooked nasty "distain"
There's a problem it seems with my brain
It seems to be telling
Me to ignore spelling
When used in a hum'rous refrain

Sorry for horrible scansion.

He shrugged off their words with disdain
Accompanied by this refrain:
"Sticks and stones - hurt my bones,
Not to mention cellphones,
That keeps filling my ears with deep pain!”
(enough of this then...)
[Phil] Interesting - until you said it, I couldn't hear Marc's line in a way that made it correct. The influence of the rhythm of the original 'Sticks and stones' chant just got in the way, I suppose.
A young lady from old London town
Wore to Ascot a transparent gown
The resulting mêlée
Caused by said negligée
Turned the once verdant lawn dirty brown
This young woman's gauzy attire The theme is worth developing a little more
Was based on a thin frame of wire
It was easily bent
To convert to a tent
With a leftover piece for a spire.
Friday night and the eggnogs are free (Well done all, free eggnogs to everybody including Sprangle!)
The young ladies are drunk as can be
Alas, so am I
And I want pumpkin pie
But none of these babes bake, you see?
The cult of the hero is flawed (Cheers Marc - jolly generous under the circs :^)
Lesser mortals are easily awed
With gold head and clay feet
They're not quite the elite
They should all be put to the sword
A deep-fried pork pie's just the thing
To make arteries lose their zing
Though the taste is insipid
Being quite high in lipid
It will clog our veins with a wring...
There's a show on the old BBC
‘bout a sex-selling young frenchisee (sic)
Dr Who's Billie Piper
Is scared by a viper
Are you sure it's not ITV3?
I've got an idea for a show:
Called 'How Does Your Garden Grow?'
Its hostess' name's Mary
She's big, blond and scary
When brandishing dibber and hoe
I've got an idea for a shoe
That involves pink feathers and glue
It's most orthopaedic
If somewhat comedic
'cause the size that I need is 'canoe'...
Now that was really nice. Shall I start another?
I've got an idea for a jacket Allow me, m'dear.
It's got bling and will cost me a packet
Its ermine-trimmed ruff
Doubles up as a muff
So I'll call it my < Cockney Rhyming Slang > Desmond Hackett </Cockney Rhyming Slang >
[Softers] I think your Desmond Hackett also needs to be old.
My trousers are have broken the mould
They're pink satin and sequined in gold
Though tight in the seat
They make it look neat [pen] yes, I meant to but forgot :o(
When they splat and my bare butt got cold.
Oh Dear, won't you please come inside,
At least 'til the bloodstains have dried
This axe in my head
Is no cause for dread
I'm an extra in 'Frankenstein's Bride'
Excellent!
I once found an eye in my soup
It stared at me through beefy goop
My mom said, "It's a pea,"
But I knew it could see
‘cause it blinked – it was Billy the Snoop! (Why me?)
"My dear Watson, I think it was you,"
"Who has spent the weekend sniffing glue"
"What I smoke in my pipe"
"Is something more ripe"
"(It's a horse of a different hue)"
"It's a 'baccy from old Araby"
"Yon beetle crawlin' in it? It's scaraby"
[SM & irach] I got hit twice with that one!Ouch!!
"Belonged to Imhotep"
[penelope] Okay, I'll bite: What is wrong with my first line?
Who had lots of pep Sierra Mike - just difficult to rhyme, I think.
Hidden textAlso, what's a "'baccy?"
Oh dear O dear O dear - and we were doing SO well back up there ^^^ :^(
Growing smokeless tobacco at Niles Abbey http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tabennae

At submission make sure brain is ON, (Sometimes rhyme and scansion must be ignored for educational purposes ;-)
Lest scansion and rhyme isn't done
the failure to check [SM] I'll try and be kind! 'Araby', with its stress on the second syllable is very hard to rhyme and scan. And the fact that you had to tailor the word for tobacco AND the word for Arabia to make a first line makes me think you were trying too hard whilst ignoring the basics. If it doesn't scan, it, er, doesn't scan.
Can make a train wreck
Keep it simple - lest all wit be gone
The writing that's writ on the wall
Is italic, and forty feet tall [penelope] I'll return the kindness. It's a BAC-ee from OLD ara BEE. "Baccy" was common usage when I was a lad; my pipe-smoking father never referred to it by any other name. The Archaic "Araby" seemed to fit perfectly with "old".
Hidden textIt's a baccy from old Araby / Burns smoothly and lights easily / Just one single match / And the dried-up leaves catch / And I suck down the fumes greedily
Hidden textthat's all very well Sierra Mike - but it's a team game and you have to take into account the mind-set of the ... anyway, enough of these convoluted justifications for *bad play* - can we just get on with the game? It was working rather well up there ^^
[Spangle]
Hidden text Bad play? The scansion was straight from ISIHAC and the previous line (and I STILL can't imagine how penelope came up with her metre for the line), google hits baccy on the first try and the limerick I wrote in response was from the top of my head, stream of consciousness. An easy rhyme, with acceptable scansion. Doesn't get more team oriented than that.
It says: Children - let's play
Nicely all day
Nice and gentle all day; And do not kick those arses at all!
Hidden textTo see this you must click 'reveal'
And the reason I chose to conceal
u.s.a
Does such play have any appeal?
I'd say that it doesn't
Shall I spoil? No I mustn't tough rhyme KS
Hidden lines (when they fail!) is no big deal
The visions we build with our lines
Are matched by most motorway signs sorry above - didn't realise not all can access the reveal feature
The white and the blue
And the green and black too No-one seems to have noticed Tuj's hidden move.
(Raak)
Hidden textI passed my mouse over it but that was after the following 2 posters had completely ignored it. It was very much in the spirit of what I intended when I began with a 'Hide' - nice one Tuj. I fear some of us are too subtle
Are always covered in vines!

Spangle: Minus 2 points for multiposting without license
Softers: Minus 2 points for not observing Tuj's hidden line
The rest: Well played all
There was an old lady of Kent
With a fortune that still was unspent
A young man on the make
And a bit of a rake
In her riches made a big dent
There was an old fellow from Surrey Shut up at the back!
Who late at night started to worry
'Bout the Euro and Pound
Then he suddenly found
That the Irish had just said they're sorry
There was an Architecture student
(FGZ) Would you like to have another go with some that has the right rhythm and has a few rhymes?
Let's try
A student of architecture
Had ambitions both noble and pure
His fine fenestration
Was just demonstration
Of some of his cunning allure.
On yesterday, my birthday fell
Hidden textI wonder how far it fell?
And the gifts were all brilliantly swell
I particularly like
My fish on a bike
And the crack from the Liberty Bell
There's an elephant stuck in my door
He says he's not from Bangalore
But from Disneyland ®
With a full marching band
...but they're late! It's my birthday no more! </scansion-bending>
An unbirthday party sounds nice
Are you coming? I won't ask you twice
There's cake - but no candles
Because of the vandals
And no tarts as we're all anti-vice.
Your honour, my client is blameless
But the guilty shall still remain nameless
We admit he was there
And shed a loose hair
So he's balding, not guilty, but shameless.
I've a notion to tame a gorilla [pen,Ros] delicately finished, kudos
By off'ring it strawb'rry vanilla (Tuj) Cheers.
Ice cream or candy
Perhaps some brandy
I think I'll name it Godzilla!
There's far too much bran in my diet
Ever since my doc said I should try it
It goes through me so fast
And it ends with a blast
And now I feel deflated and quiet
I really wish I could explain
To Frenchmen, Danes and Turks
How to optimize rhymes [Rosie: To a Frenchman, a Turk and a Dane?]
Oh Arse, buggeration and Rupert Murdoch! I must've thought it was a Pea and Honey Recipe. Try this then:
To the average Frenchman or Dane
How to optimize rhymes (Marc) I've put yours in again, as the art mistress said to the gardener.
For these cold, rainy climes
And why rain always falls on the plain
My standard reply is denial [Rosie] Just so happens with a bit of stress manipulation my line could've been either!
I'm from Barcelona, I smile (Tuj) That may have been what misled me, apart from inattention.
And say "Si, si - mañana
"We have no bañana" oblig.
I'm brimful of Catalan guile
There was a young fellow called Frank
Who laughed all the way to the bank
His sperm for to sell
But he tripped and he fell
And said: "That was a waste of a .."I'll get my coat
The holiday season is grand
but I wish you'd just hold my hand
I get lost in the crowds
Coz my head's in the clouds (KS, G) Little scope for decent rhymes. Are you one person doing double postings under two names?
When I hug your right mammary gland... (Cloud number seven?)
I'm gonna jump in with a punt (Blame Jim. I challenge you all to avoid any smut with this one!)
While eating a cake - a great Bundt
Which I bought in Nantucket
Along with a bucket
After I had a lunt lunt: smoke a pipe. Also, me? I am one person. KagomeShuko is my single screen name I use now. Giertrud is not me.
There once was a Japanese fighter [KS,G Occasionally I'm also a little schizo!] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tekagi-shuko
Who had a mishap with a lighter
His Zero caught fire
And he faced Tojo's ire
For smoking at work, the poor blighter.
There once was a Christmas elf
Who suffered from very poor helf
So he went to the doc
Who did naught but mock
And charged him the bulk of his welf
Nngh Naouwfaouwk vaey aouw taouwk woik vif "In Norfolk they all talk like this"
Whaa'? Even 'ng pahsh taoüns loike Diff? "What? Even in posh towns like Diss?"
Jeg vil prøve å lære det "I'd try to learn it"
Fast jag är en analfabet "Though I am an analphabit"
Póg mo thóin! Tá mo bhríste trí thine! "Kiss my ass! My trousers are burning like this"
There once was a chic little chick (back to basics)
A fashionista that made the rest sick
Her little black dress
Revealed to the press
A house built of silicone brick "If you can remember the seventies, would you admit it?"

Marc - Twas the Night before Christmas I think,
That I thought I would have a wee drink
So I poured out a brandy
Got a hooker called Mandy
And called Charlie Sheen's shrink. (apologies about the reference to the US News)
At the end of this year let me say,
It's been 52 weeks of great play
This collective of wit
- since its fuse was first lit -
has taxed my matter that's gray.
A new year's a time for new things
And a time when ev'rybody sings
So let's sip some wine
With some food that's divine (Can anyone please explain Giertrud's line? I do not understand it at all but I am a blody foreigner of course...)
And wait till the microwave pings . Grey matter - a reference to the stuff inside the head - i.e. the brain.
I've forgotten the things that I knew
For example, is this year still new?
And if not, then how old
We should all be told
If I'm kept in the dark - I shall sue
While stuck on the M25
A shortcut I tried to contrive
But my detour through SloughYou have the option - sluff or slouw...
Was more than enough enuff or enow...
To add a half hour to my drive
Hey, have you seen my rubber?
If I don't find it I'll blubber.
Is it this one - the black? (G and KS, I admire the remarcable precision in two different persons posting ;-)
Flavoured if you need a snack
Another mercy killing -
Bubba bubba bubba bubba bubba
Now play properly!
Spangle, your license is now confiscated. You may go to your room and stay there!
We'd very much like you to try
Finding rhymes that will fit, don't be shy
When you've done that
Verses won't go all "splat"
Or fizzle out and just die
Oh look! Here's a blow-up sheep!
[G] No there isn't. 1. It doesn't scan. 2. It's effing childish. Try harder.
[penelope] I, too, am deeply disappointed with the children's recent behaviour.
Spangle - I need to confess to a crime
I've wasted four hours of your time
But in my defence
I will use common sense
To provide you both reason and rhyme
I need to confess to a sin
I went out the door that said "In"
My erratic egress
To my X's address
Is because my mind's in a spin
Was a flimsy excuse to buy gin
My shame of embarrassing sin oh this is turning out to be a sorry tale...
I've drowned in a gallon of gin
My soul's taken flight
So I think that I might
Have some fun in the hell that I'm in
Alas and alack! Woe, is me!
I think I just scraped my knee!
As I kneeled on the floor
Wrestling with a trapdoor [Marc] Is "kneeled" modern American for "knelt"?
While fleeing the L.A.P.D.[Raak] both are acceptable here in the States.
There once was a kneeling young nun [Raak] Don't ask me, I'm an alien using MS-word for my poofreading...
Who thought she'd stand up just for fun
Her habit then ripped.
And her modesty slipped
But she made the third page of 'The Sun'
Monty Python would just be so proud
if you played a tuba that's loud!
With dead parrots in tow
Let's get on with the show!
Individuals all in this crowd!
Whilst playing "The Liberty Bell"
Our bandstand collapsed - then we fell
And the bell fell and cracked
So with guilt I am wracked
And Ben Franklin is giving me hell
A round of applause please - I've just
Excavated this ancient Greek bust
It is Aphrodite
It's going back to Blighty
After I've cleaned all the dust.
My camera's screen's certainly dying
I broke my scanner too without much trying
So now I can't scan - pun intended - oh yeah
'cause when shit hits the fan [Spangle] Brilliant!
It is off to the shop and start buying.
While bringing a meeting to order
I played the Bach "Air" on recorder
After tapping the mike
Someone said "Take a hike!"
For my Musical Offering just bored her.
I've done all your laundry by hand well... almost half of it - the washing machine is broken
And to scrub every floor I have planned
Including the loo
And the soot-laden flue
And the beach that's STILL covered in sand!
One day an old Pearly King
Was somehow mistaken for Sting
Every breath that he took
Caused his fizzog to look
Like a tantric arrangement of bling
It's so cold I think hell freezes over
As I'm driving my old Vauxhall Nova
My fingers are numb
And so is my bum (oblig.)
How long is it 'til I read Dover?
It's taken four years to explain
Where the rain falls in some parts of Spain
Yet the answer was clear
It's in Andalucía
Hidden textDriest part, actually. Too bad.
Where they have located the drain!

I tried finding words to rhyme clear
Then gave up, and went to buy beer
When I entered the store
I found it cost more
So my eye developed a tear
I cried, and I cried, and I cried,
For I tried, and I tried, and I tried
But dear oh dear
I do fear, I do fear
That you lied and you lied and you lied.
[M, R, S, i, P] That's the most heart-rending limerick I think we've ever had. Well done.
Now let's think of cheerier matters
Like Tommy Cooper and other mad hatters
Morecombe and Wise?
Making mud pies
With their dressing gowns covered in spatters
It's time for my daily banana
All smothered with pureed sultana
A durian milk shake
(Quite a smelly mistake!)
Maybe I'll come back manãna
There's a reason I don't like young Dave
And I'll share it with you 'cause I'm brave
Is, he scares me, y'see
With that noise as he wee
And the daredevil way that he shave Marc, is English your native language? Because sometimes I wonder, the way you force rhymes in when the subject and sense just don't fit.
There once was a man with a beard
Which he grew because folks said he leered
But he leered unabated
At each lady he dated
And that Sir, is how come he got sheared.
While trying to play Brubeck's Take Five
My feet started dancing the jive
Their groovy gyrations
Made large perturbations
- I'm told that her toes won't survive.
Tonight is a full Lenten Moon
Which comes not a moment too soon
For I have indulged
And my belly has bulged
I admit - I'm a thorough poltroon
My favourite Uncle has claimed
That he was mistakenly blamed
For the financial mess
And for cheating in chess
For which he was named, shamed and maimed.
[p,S,M,P] :-)
"In jail you belong Uncle Andy!"
"Your excesses go beyond randy"
"For your lecherous way"
"You now have to pay"
But first, pour me some of that brandy?
Please stop this absurd punctuation
It leads to complete obfuscation
Say the words as they're spelled
Like "yacht", "Keighley", "knelt" (Raak) I'm sure you meant "spelt".
or "supertranssubstantiation"
All of us use electricity
Its chiefest appeal is simplicity
However, some find
That Propane gas, combined
In the kitchen causes duplicity
My mouse balls are sticky with dust
Which disables the joy of mouse lust well, really!
So I've screwed off the plug
Gave its balls a good tug
All of which leaves my mouse quite nonplussed
My monitor's baleful stare
Seems to plead, "Is anyone there?"
The answer, so sad
Because it's just a fad
To use this outdated hardware.
I've revived my old VC10
Which I last flew in - goodness known when!
Though its synthetic sound (http://www.vintagesynth.com/korg/vc10.php)
Makes it bound to the ground
Though we're airborne each Friday at ten.
The next time I see a black cat
At it I shall throw my hat
I shall swear curse and spit [Softers] Wouldn't 'old hat' give your line a better scansion?
As I rightly see fit
Then kick it away. And that's that.
Incredible as it may seem
I like being broad in the beam
The comfort I get
From a full buttock set
Is matched by a fine bosom team
[P, i, p, So, Sp] Jolly good, I enjoyed that :-)
My shoulder is hurting like hell
And it makes my arm ache as well Actually this is timely, I have a trapped nerve in my shoulder and it does hurt like hell!
I must give up darts
And start dating tarts
As my jerk-muscle's started to swell.

I shall reach for my coat and my hat
Don them, adjust my cravat (Chasty) Your jerk muscles are situated in your hand and forearm and I detect overuse.
The make for the door
For us who don't score
The whorehouse will remedy that
My life has been turned upside down
In my new job as "Famed Head-stand Clown"
The blood to my head rushes
Which gives me hot flushes
Which at least brings some kind of renown
There once was a man who was smart
Who could cunningly conceal a fart
Or so he had thought Fool. You can never achieve that.
Because he was caught
Claiming hydrogen sulphide as art.
I wish I had super strength
I'd not ask, "Are the foils all a length?"
I would just use me arms
And switch on all my charms
Albeit imbibe far less absinthe.
One day while washing my car
Of bird droppings, fag ash and tar Last one absolutely dreadful.
Which clogged up my chamois *careful now*
And made it all clammy Antipodean Pronunciation invoked
Now it's shining and worthy a Czar
In French, but not English, there's gender (Pablo) Wot, clamwah?.
In UK its a wing, not a fender
US -"center", not "centre"
but you can tell what is meant: a
In this case we've arrived at The Ender.
My boss (it's a she) never knows
The colour I've painted my toes
One day I'll surprise her
By using Budweiser
And the powder left from Cheetos.
The good folk of Chorlton-cum-Hardy
Are quite underweight - never lardy
But the chiels o' Dumfries
Are loaded with grease
Smelly, obese and quite mardy
There was an old man of Dundee called William Topaz McGonagall.
Who wrote verse that the people of Dundee and beyond found comical
He strove with heroic verse both night and day
Each effort more disastrous than the Tay
His poetry you can still see, serialised in the Edinburgh Chronicle
It seems at last we've found our level
And so we can begin to revel [Simons]Is this some quaint old Tudor metre for limericks that you have resurrected?
Poetic form is so passé 4 lines, AABB?
The Lim'rick déclassé - It still works as a Limerick, IMHO: It seems at last we've found our level / And so we can begin to revel / Poetic (pronounced pwetic) form is so passé
But this stuff sounds more like Phil Neville. (Phil notNeville) You're a kinder man than me. SM's line can be greatly improved by inverting we've and at last. (Pablo) Any further references to "quaint old Tudor" will be treated with the utmost disdain. :-)
So who took my great name in vain
The whole world, old chap, once again Not a diamond geezer, then.
On the silvery Tay
As you stood up to say: [Rosie]Scorn my Tudor references as you will, the fact remains that Simons started us off in 6/8 metre but with crotchet-quaver pattern ending on a weak beat, whereas you finish with traditional limerick 6/8, all in quavers and finishing on the strong beat. Metric mismatch! (Sorry for expressing it in musical terms but have forgotten all that anapestic/trochaic/pterodactyls stuff.)
"Would you look at that f***ing big train!"
That's silly enough for the nonce
About with this stuff let's not ponce (Pablo) It was mock indignation, a joke (note the smiley), nothing to do with metre. Are you aware of my real name, and age? I thought most the the Morniverse was.
Just get to the point
Or we'll have to appoint
A gendarme to whack noobs on the bonce.
I spied from behind a net curtain
A something, of which I'm not certain? It could be... may-be not... or may-be it's... No, sorry I can't make it out, can any of you?
Could it be a duck? [Rosie] re name and age, I have heard rumours, but would not like to act on anything unsubstantiated :-)
Flattened out by a truck
Or hotpot by Betty Turpin
The Thames did once stink to high heaven
In fact, you could smell it from Devon
But some Eau de Cologne
Shipped by old Sly Stallone
Raised the pH to eleven. Caustic comments awaited.
It's true! I've seen elves, gnomes, and fairies
Who always pick my strawberries.
These funny wee folk
My joints they will smoke
And annoy me by shouting "Hail Marys"
While mowing my lawn in the rain
My foot felt a quite sudden pain
It turns out I'd stood
On something that should
Have driven a maniac insane.
Last night as I went to the pub
for a pint, or maybe some grub
But stood at the bar
Was my own avatar
Who'd escaped from the Second Life hub. Anyone else here active on Second Life?
I've just written a lovely new tune
A duet for steel drum and bassoon
Its tinny low drone
Like an orgasmic groan
Sounds so sweet on a warm night in June. Apparently not, then.
I stood on my own in the dark
Aghast, in Van Cortlandt Park
With my money all gone
In the Bronx, all forlorn
I felt a bit of a nark
Don't look at the sun through binocs
Or sail over Niag. in a box
If thrills you must seek
Just pretend you are Greek
And try changing fonts in a .docx
[Raak] I spent a few months playing with Second Life a few years back. I found it interesting but also somewhat baffling. I think I never figured out whether to be me, or whether I should be creating some new persona. Maybe I should take a look back in there again sometime.
[CdM] It's said that introverts tend to make avatars that are copies of themselves, while extroverts make avatars completely unlike themselves. My first av was basically a copy of me, although it's evolved away from that (for one thing, it's female now), and my second I started with something random and have been tweaking it ever since. I'm still the same person behind the keyboard though -- I find it impossible to put on a different manner with a different avatar.
My avatar's manic and loud
It wants to stand out in the crowd
To advertise me
And accept a small fee
And for this I am not at all proud.
There once was a wonderful kisser
(It's no wonder so many miss her.)
Her lips she did pucker
Like a giant squid's sucker
But sadly she's pulling your pisser The one with the belt missing, thanks
My trenchcoat is missing its belt
I found out just now when I felt u.s.a.
The breeze quite so cold
It made certain things BOLD
So i hurried back home at full pelt...
I know where I am - I am lost!
And really don't need to be bossed!
So shuddupa ya face
Just get on the case
And tell me which oceans I've crossed?
Relying on GPS
I think there's a missing 'my' in that line. On that assumption:
Is a sure route to anguish and stress
It's well-known to deceive
Or at least I believe
'Cos I wanted Bough Beech; got Loch Ness.
A certain young kangaroo
To an emu said, "How do you do?"
The emu replied
"Good! You Bonnie, me Clyde"
"Let us rob this here old boring zooo!"
There once was a golden-brown beer
That brought many pub crawlers good cheer
but at Earls Court
Always asked for "Red Port"
And was rightly chucked out on 'is ear.
Myself, I prefer a nice pinot
Or a cool Andalucian fino
But if push comes to shove
I've an illicit love
For pretty much any cheap vino.
Ha - v neat!
What Mr or Ms Bystander just said. That was excellent.

Life is too short for bad wine
Though having said that I'll opine [c,S,C,I,P] Stellar!
That even the worst
Will extinguish your thirst ...ugh...
And too much will rend you supine
I lie on my back and I think
Oh why did I have that last drink?
As my gut starts to churn
And my face starts to gurn
I quickly head for the sink
The porcelain throne I now face
Which my arsehole's about to deface One for you, Phil.
Both ends will soon spew
My message to you
While myself, I disgrace.
A topic of general bad taste
Is likely to get you maced
A sense of decorum
In this here forum
Behave - or forever be chased ...
I just splashed out on some new bedding
Where my bride will lay after our wedding
I hope she likes neon
'Cos it must be an aeon (irach) Is lay transitive? If so, who is the layee? The bridgegroom, presumably. If intransitive is she a chicken, great in egg? Did you mean lie?.
And put her in the mood for clothes shedding.
[Rosie]lay (lâ) transitive verb , (Slang) to have sexual intercourse with. ("Layee" works both ways, it's not just the groom's prerogative - ever heard of "woman on top", or do you think just "missionary"?
As I climbed to the top of the tower
I saw just out of reach, a small flower
With petals petite
And aroma so sweet,
Tried to pick it and fell for an hour.... (crash-boom-bang)
There are ways that are good and there's bad
Ways to explain to your dad
That you've just seen your Mum (irach) All blather. You meant lie, just as the woman next door meant when I used to hear her bellowing at her baby to "lay down!" "Pass him the bottles, then", I mutter. In any case, one doesn't lay; one gets laid.
oh dear, the possiblities. but i resist... With that idiot from
(cfm) "From" doesn't rhyme with "Mum". Are you some typically dimwitted fucking Yank or something?

[irach] The Merriam-Webster Dictionary of English Usage (which is the only truly worthwhile reference on style I have ever come across) observes that, in spoken English, "...there is the simple longevity of intransitive lay, almost 700 years of continuous use." It concludes its entry as follows (emphasis mine):
"Notwithstanding the belief of some that social judgments can be solidly based on language use, the lay-lie shibboleth may be changing its status. For instance, several commentators, such as Evans 1957, Follett 1966, and Flesch 1983, are perfectly willing to give the distinction up; Bolinger 1980 thinks it is already a lost cause not worth defending; Copperud 1970, 1980 judges the consensus of his experts that at least some uses of lay for lie are verging on standard; Flesch even goes so far as to recommend using lay for lie if it comes naturally to you.

"If lay "lie" is on the rise socially, however, it is likely to be a slow rise, as indignant letters to the editor attest. Bolinger observes sensibly that if you have invested some effort in learning the distinction, you will not want to admit that you have wasted your time. ... So what should you do? The best advice seems to be Bolinger's:
"Many people use lay for lie, but certain others will judge you uncultured if you do. Decide for yourself what is best for you."


[Rosie] Dear oh dear oh dear. You really need to get out more, see the world. There are many more ways of speaking English than you encounter in your particular little corner of suburbia.
"From" barely rhyme "Mum": http://www.rhymezone.com/r/rhyme.cgi?Word=mum&typeofrhyme=perfect&org1=syl&org2=l&org3=y
Rosie vs the rest: 0 - 2
Interestingly the 'lay/lie' issue is addressed by Geoffrey Pullum today in Language Log and he sticks to the (in)transitive distinction more than Merriam-Webster does. I think there may be a bit of transatlantic variation here on the levels of acceptability. I also wouldn't rhyme 'mum' and 'from' any more than 'mom' and 'crumb', though I wouldn't call someone out on it.
This is all just the result of a typing error. I'm sure that cfm simply omitted to type the word "Brum" at the end of his line in his line before posting.
The Pru [he's a bit of a cad]. Now stop being a silly, Rosie. You're worth more than this pettyfogging quibblesome nonsense. And I do believe that's the very first time I have used the word pettyfogging - - - :^)
If you make me an offer I might
Do something to you to delight
For sufficient incentive
I can be quite inventive
And promise to play - not to fight!
Would you like to come over and play?
I've fun toys here--what do you say?
There's Tigger and Roo
And don't forget Pooh!
But forget Andy Pandy - he's gay
Should we play today out in the street? [p,c,i,g,s] applause
Smash a shop, bash a cop on his beat!
We can burn with impunity
Destroy our community
—Ah, look at those kids. Ain't they sweet?
well done
If you wake in the middle of the night
With an feeling that something's not right
Grab your old cricket bat
And put on a hard hat
Will this you laid? Well - it might.
Let there be no doubt at all about the meaning of 'laid'
If an egg can get laid in the morning
It may do so without any warning.
The poor shell-shocked hen
Gets caught short in its pen
And the cock shake his tail and start mourning ...
The chick or the egg - what came first?
The Eggs! From their shells chicks do burst!
But who laid the eggs?
Is the question this begs
Damn it! Let them be cursed and recursed!
There were eggs before chicks had evolved
The issue, I think, is resolved
Now, scrambled or fried?
I can never decide
And what's more - will not get involved
Fry me some eggs in sweet butter
While I practise long strokes with my putter
Bring me baked beans [Tuj] That was a truly excellent line.
While I put on my jeans
Do I sound like a farty golf nutter?
If planted, this seed will produce ... Enough with the egg thing!
A berry beloved by moose
If you climb up the tree
You're certain to see
Bullwinkle up there, on the loose
[irach} *smiles*
When the road has become kind of Rocky
Take advice from an amateur jockey
Keep your bum in the air
Cling on tight to your mare
Or you'll throw up your pre-race lunch gnocchi
In Siberia, gnocchi are served
In a manner that leaves me unnerved
'Cos pasta on tundra
Will make me a chund'rer
And that is just what I've deserved...
This night I woke up in a dream
And said "Things are not quite as they seem"
I can't cross the oceans
And control bowel motions
But I'll just check the sheets - hope they're clean
This morning light promises much
A day full of happiness, such... unfini
as olives! And kisses!
And best wedding wishes!
For Pen and her dear old Dutch
(oblig)
Aaaaah - hope they like olives ...
I remember, on my honeymoon
I was caught in an Indian monsoon
To shelter from harm
We found an old barn
Which was cheaper than renting a room
A cheapskate I'll always be
The check's never handed to me
I don't pay my share
Which you may think unfair
But why pay when you get it for free? oblig.
Buy one and you'll get one free!
If two's not enough, then take three!
Buy three, the fourth's yours
Plus a fifth one, of course
And here, have the sixth one on me
"Discount? What's that?" said the vendor
I've a way of seducing the spender
Without special offers
I'll empty your coffers
Like Sanjay Kapoor from Eastenders
And I don't even watch soaps, honest
[Botherer] would've been even better if last 2 words had been 'the Eastender' Good to see you btw :)
[Chalky] Good call! And thanks, good to be back! So on that note:
The problem I have with the soaps
Is the plot-makers clearly are dopes
They think that disaster
Piled higher and faster
Is better than most TV tropes
In early Pre-Christian Rome
A scribe penned a lengthy old tome
Its mysterious pages   (How can you pen an old tome? If you're penning it, it's brand new.)
Took him ages and ages
[Raak] I wondered about that myself (from a print media perspective) but perhaps
Cos he carved them in wood with a comb.

I'm building an old ruined abbey
Coz I'm old and infirm and quite scabby - I realise, of course, that my contribution is not in the best possible taste. Just shoot me now.
Each brick I place crumbles
The Lord above grumbles [Raak] Outstanding "subliminal" message
As His Kingdom on Earth looks so flabby
When people say "ends of the earth"
I wonder what they have "learth."
We must all reconsider our lines [cfm, KS] Maybe you should also reconsider your lines?
Lest the Limerick Police impose fines
Bad rhythm and scansion
And metric expansion Nothing remotely wrong with cfm's opener there.
Will soon provoke grumbles and whines
(Indeed: cfm's line fitted all the scansion requirements for a limerick)

When people say "ends of the earth"
They seldom mean further than Perth
But "back of beyond"
Or "over the pond"
Is never a place of great worth


There's no call nowadays for a sword
A wigwam, an easel, or fjord
Or for correction fluid
Unless you're a druid unfini
Who wants to erase a bad word.
I learned some bad words in my youth
Some obscene, others merely uncouth
One I think starts with F...?
So thank goodness I'm deaf
Or I might hear you F... Connie Booth
Reverend Spooner's speech is quite scary
To anyone quite ordinary
With consonants mangled
And vow'ls intertwangled
Ones point boon succumbs cite quantrary
[Chalky] Excellent ending. :-)
Today be piratically themed
For those who are easily memed [Chalky] Not "kite quantrary"?
Arr, me timbers do shiver
As we pass Yellow River
And anywhere else we have dreamed.
While swimming the Channel one day
I discovered I'd quite lost my way
A compass malfunction
Made me head for the junction
Outside Dover - to Chesapeake Bay...
The Brollys of ancient Cherbourg
Are lined up outside of the morgue
Les petits parapluies
Shield from raining ratatouille
The folks from Frogfunerals.org
Here's what you must do if I croak
Pierce my heart with a stake made of oak
For I am the undead
So you know what? Instead ...
Kill that strange looking werewolf bloke
Whenever I'm guessing I'm wrong
I'll simply break out into song
'Shaddapya Face' would suit my work situation right now
Rings around the workplace
But it's not by Olivia Ong.
Michelle Kwan was skating one day
When a bollard just got in her way
Alas, no triple lutz
For this ice-skating klutz
Hit the buffers, the skids and the hay.
American mothers opine
That plying their babies with wine
Will prevent ADD
But reduce ABC
And certainly make 'em quit cryin'.
When in Rome you should do as the Romans
And scrutinise entrails for omens
A goat's bloody gut
Or a eunuch's old nut
Then make a display - like a showman's
I once met a werewolf from Kent
Who helped me to put up a tent
This kind loup-garoux
Then cooked up a stew
With no meat because it was Lent
I just heard about a new diet
Put some tape 'cross your lips and keep quiet
And if/when you faint
Do show some restraint
When the urge to eat comes, then defy it.
The sticks and the stones aren't worth throwing
Except for the ones that are glowing
So instead I throw peaches
At piranhas and leeches
And cocks that are spitefully crowing
There's nowt like a good cup of char
It beats beer, wine, and coffee by far
And if the brew is Earl Grey
I would have to say
Spot on - award a gold star
A lass with huge melons, I spied
Piss-poor, Kagome. Please expunge your adolescent limerick fantasies elsewhere.
Here's the tale of a limerick prude
Who crudeness in rhyming eschewed
Bad fruit euphemisms
Resulted in schisms
And an effort to veto the lewd
Let's remember the Gunpowder Plot
Which failed; it was Fawked up a lot
Which is why every year
We all stand and cheer
While burning the Guy - what a twot
My mummy has fled from its tomb
Preferring a more deluxe room
It seems its abode
Was home to a toad
Which was held as a portent of doom
My mummy has fled from my dad
For he's a despicable cad
She's filed for divorce
And will join the Dark Force
So all things considered, I'm glad.
My mummy runs pyramid schemes
That claim to fulfil all your dreams
She's recruited her exes
Bought herself a black Lexus
And works hard to drown out the screams.
My mummy is screaming a lot
About the complaints she has got  usa
A wicked contusion
Demented confusion,
Hidden textignoring CdM's 'usa', and assuming commas at the end of lines 2 and 3, for the sake of getting this one completed
And a copious river of snot. Er, sorry - got a code id be doze.
A teenage mother from Brent
Had a neat way of paying the rent
When the landlord would knock
She put coins in a sock
With malodorif'rous intent.
There once was a man who came back [Rosie] Welcome back, hope you had a nice vacation...
To his lone little weatherboard shack
To find that inside
A donkey had died
Which his mastiff had used as a snack
There once was a fellow from Chiswick (Marc) Anything's better than this place. :-)
Who fell ill with a bout of the phthisic
Day and night he was coughing
Though he swore it was nouthing SWIDT? HYDM.
Cause of death? He was too solipsistic.
A toothless old hag in Llanelli
Brewed a strong cup of char that was deathly
Which she gave to the vicar
Who much preferred liquor
And ran his own still called "Y Felli".
The fellows who dig up the road (Raak) People have been keel-hauled for lesser crimes, of course, but there was little you could do.
Hidden text I have only ever known two, maybe three, English people who can make this sound properly, and one had lived in Wales for a short time, showing it to be a question of hearing it because it's not fundamentally difficult.
(Phil) Stout fellow.
Have a secret and unwritten code [Rosie] I wondered what you'd make of that!
"Monday morning at eight-"
"Number 10, by the gate"
Bring biscuits and plenty of woad
My friend the guitarist told me
That every time he plays barred G (taking the stress to be on the middle syllable of guitarist, though there is another way of reading the line that also works)
He gets cramp in his wrist
And curses Franz Liszt
Which seems a bit pointless, to me.
I've realised something profound [Rosie, Raak] There was a limerick on one of these sites long ago where I rhymed Llanelli with "pallor most "delli". 'Course, in that case, the rhyme was perfect, but was only an approximation to the pronunciation of the English word -- a subtle difference from Raak's case. I'm half Welsh, so I can pronounce Llanelli half decently.
Which, I believe, will astound
A single red rose
And a line writ in prose
Will get her to bed in a bound
[C,S,J,M,i] Jolly good - I like a bit of optimism

The problem with getting new teeth
Is the old ones are hard to bequeath
But plant them outside
And treat them with pride
And spread loads of enamel beneath...
To grow a whole garden of molars
One must pot them in inverted bowlers
So all of you misers
And dull early risers
Get digging and make some violas. (Herr B) Sorry, couldn't resist it.
I've been 'round for 28 years
But dieting's one of my fears
So now I'm obese
All blubber and crease
So pass me twelve more lovely beers.
There's possibly nothing as bad
As Gaga's new meaty dress fad
It grows germs and maggots
(Which can make tasty faggots)
Plus I've heard that the cows used were mad
As I set off to tour round the world
I make sure that my beard is well curled Ho, ho, ho.
My red and white cloak
(Colors courtesy of Coke)
Is my aerofoil when unfurled.
Be merciful with your poor boss
Someday you will report a net loss
Of some zillions of pounds
A sum that astounds
But he still blame the workers of course
"Take care as you go up that ladder",
And more HSA yadda-yadda Health & Safety Authority
"At all times beware" (Raak) Isn't it the HSE (Executive)?
" 'cause our lousy health care"
[Rosie] So it seems. If I had looked at my Google results more closely, I would have seen that the HSA is the Irish version.
"Won't clean up the blood that you spatter."
A boy scout once knocked on my door
But I soon had him pinned to the floor
Saying "Show me your woggle"
Hidden text(Phil) Hoping for Bob a Gob Job?
"and I'll help you boondoggle"
It's now no wonder I'm sore coat!
While scoffing my night-time banana (Softers) You clearly weren't Prepared.
I gazed out at the Kenyan savannah
When along came a monkey
No, a gibbon most funky
Who winked and said, "See you mañana!"
I plan only one resolution:
An end to methane pollution
Eliminate cattle!
And you'll see that that'll
Minimize gas distribution
If the Euro does go down the pan
If the Euro does go down the pan
Whoops - got the 2-for-1 offer by mistake
I shall unveil my dastardly plan
(bifurcation) I'll buy every cabbage I can
And restore threepenny bits Route 1
To resort to barter Route 2
Which clearly is smarter Route 2
Try stop staring at tits Route 1
Than selling French nukes to Iran Route 2
And write better lines if I can... End of route 1
There once was an impatient killer
Who was known to resemble Camilla
Her frightful coiffure
Which was less than demure
Made her look like a bad Phyllis Diller
Let us all now praise the spider
And resist the strong urge to deride her
For her wondrous web
From April to Feb.
Accounts for the insects inside her
Now it's less than a week until Christmas
I'll retire to my own private isthmus
Feast on egg nog and manta
Festooned with diamante
[cfm] Come on, that doesn't rhyme and hardly scans - how about
And, as a present from Santa,
[INJ] A touch of the shoehorn there?
Some glasses to cure my strabismus. Following INJ.
When your scansion is called into question
Be open to any suggestion
Do not post crappy lines
Or you'll have to pay fines
For causing grammatic indigestion
Dear Santa I've been a good boy
So what if I'm Jewish, not goy
I've said my baruchs
And kept off all hooches
A day of good kosher joy
If you want we could meet at the pub
For a pint and a nice syllabub (Slight failure of rhymage in line 4 of previous. Mind you, what English word rhymes with 'baruchs'?
[Knobbly] "loud heuchs"?
Hopefully there's trivia (as for rhying with baruchs - Tuques, kooks, Luke's, nukes, souks . . .)
About Oman or Bolivia
And something resembling fair grub.
I put some crushed ice in my shaker
And added a loaf from the baker
Three jiggers of rye
Two ounces of lye
I'm preparing to now meet my Maker
"NOW THE ENDING IS NEAR - PLEASE BEWARE!"
Said the pilot, when flying RyanAir
Then turbulence hit
And the purser said "Shit!"
And the queue for the loo, c'est la guerre.
There once was a cute little maiden
Whose talent was lovely hair braidin'
Her fingers flew faster
Than light - then disasteru
She saw that the colour was fadin'
A fella with long flowing locks
, a beret and some blue argyle socks
Approached me and said
"I would not be seen dead!
In anything but fancy frocks"
My tailor and I are in tune/b>
Since we danced by the light of the moon
He has measured me up
For the Tailor Dance Cup
Which takes place promptly at noon!
She liked her hair long and skirts short
And to drink: a small lime and port
But question 'her' gender ... interesting that the last ten limericks bar one have been started by the same two contributors ...
Is "she" really a bender?
I'd check but I'd end up in court
As we journey through life, we should try Excellent finish Darren
To have ready a good alibi
And to question the fitness
Of each expert witness
Because folks, given chance, often lie.

The passage from thought into words
Proves tricky for most geeks and nerds ...[cfm,CdM,R,pen] classy teamwork :)
To help their expression
Or fervid confession
They should sing it with flat minor thirds. Bluesy . . . .
Using mice and a furlong of string
I fashioned some low-budget bling
That I'd tie to my cat
In the way of a hat
Which made it quite easy to fling
Spare a thought for the down-trodden vole
Who is often confused with the mole
But the piles that they leave
If you look, won't deceive
'Cos it all comes out of a hole.
Tonight I will go to the pub
For the craic, a pint, and some grub
Perhaps a quick song
Then, if nothing goes wrong
I'll be throwing some shapes at a club
And if I'm in luck, then I'll pull
A fancy trick on a bull
It won't buck me off
If I don't start to cough
And my evening would then count as full.
When I do take the bull by the horns
The damn thing stands on my corns
But after some bellows
My misery mellows
'til I take 'nother Gin spiked with thorns...
My carpenter hammered and screwed
He was quite the industrious dude
He made me a closet
In which I deposit
Young Marc when he tries to be lewd :)
My mother is ninety today
So I'll sing her a song, if I may
"Knees up Mother Brown"
And she'll then go to town
For her regular 'roll in the hay'...
On the telly I saw Doctor Phil
Who said I should take this blue pill
But I took the red
My love life is dead
And the willy now lacks all its will
The firm Williams, Johnson & Dick This crowd is a v bad influence
Has taken a great deal of stick
But these upstanding men
Will, no doubt, come again
And give all your egos a prick. MOVING ON
A day in the country is nice
A breath of fresh air for my lice
And my worms like the view
As I visit the loo
And dispose of my dodgy fried rice.
I'm learning to trust my optician
But I still have a nagging suspicion
He's paid just to flatter
Which shouldn't much matter
As I already have perfect vision
With one of my ears on the floor
And the other one nailed to the door
I'm over-extended
Much more than intended
But my ears do not ring anymore
I think that my tongue's swelling up!
I find my pint I cannot sup
But if I had a straw
Or two, three, or more
I'd sip from this large china cup
One day we will run out of air
You'll inhale--and it just won't be there
And no-one will hear
Your screaming with fear
And there will be noone to care
I hope when I breathe my last breath
Of the fumes from that sweet crystal meth
That I'll be in the arms
Of the great Chelsea Charms
And that she is not clearly brain death.
I hope when I drop from this coil This theme is a bit deadly, isn't it?
And I'm under six feet of soil
That someone will say
"He was great in his day"
"But now he is starting to spoil"
I'll be pushing up daisies one day
Until then I'll be happy and gay
I'll dance right through life
With one not my wife [irach] LOL--great line.
Never caring what others might say
I'm hoping when I kick the bucket
It will make the front page in Pawtucket
My corpse they'll cremate
In a neighbouring state
And scatter the ash in Nantucket

Apols for 3 lines - I've never done that before AFAIR, but I had an uncontrollable urge.
There once was a doddy old fool
Who fancied a swim in the pool
He made a high dive
Then - heavens alive -
Trunks slipped, revealed fam'ly jewel
I am stuck in this game what 'bout you?
They should lock all of us in a zoo
They could then charge admission
And give no remission
Till at least twenty minutes past two
I haven't a clue what to say
My mind's in complete disarray
I feel so confused
By words I have choosed
I think I'll just go away
Four minutes and thirty-three seconds
It took to peel 43 almonds (tricky rhyming there, good luck to line 5)
Lemonds?
Now her marzipan beckons
So her pastry chef reckons
Pate d'amande sera bien charmante
Desperate attempt to escape the cage with the unconventional ABA*A*B* limerick rhyming scheme.
I've broken my grandma's sledgehammer
While breaking up rocks in the slammer
She was here years ago
Her offense? I don't know
Except she was a wife of Osama
The thing about being best friends
Should be that the fun never ends
How much fun it would be
If we went out to sea
And you dove and came up with the bends
Come on, you've got nothing to lose
From walking in A. Nother's shoes
When you've walked for one mile
You can pause for a while
And sing a song -- A. Nother's Blues
There once was a song 'bout a girl
Who had a wild fling with an earl
Though not born to the manner or manor, if you prefer
She checked in her planner
To find he was down as a churl
Amazing how few rhymes there are for "girl", as I found when writing a song who's hook line ends with it. Pain in the arse for lyricists...
burl, curl, earl, hurl, kerl, merl, merle, nerl, pearl, searl, searle, shirl, sperl, sperle, swirl, twirl, whirl
and my favorite, unfurl
There once was a song 'bout a boy
Who played every day with his toy
He'd first make it stand
With a flick of his hand
In a way that would give him much joy
Then after, he'd fold it away
[Mom] Perhaps I should have said useful rhymes :-)
His mom would scold him, and say
"You're just so self-centered!"
"Come on, get re-entered!"
I do not care to know how this one ends, thanks.
"And finish our last Wordfeud play!" [cfm]Have you got a pervert mind?
The flowers that bloom in the spring, don't you see? Moving swiftly on - I agree with cfm, the last couple were satisfying only one or two *ahem* 'players'. And neither of them were me.
[pen] Agreed. But that line needs shortening. Hope you don't mind if I go:
The flowers that bloom in the spring
Are saluting the birds on the wing
While the bees and the bears
Are putting on airs
and dancing the mambo to swing.
When needing three hots and a cot
I recommend my favorite spot
On Dartmoor it's found
Right behind that black hound
and it's ten quid up front for the lot!
An inscrutable girl from Japan
Went the distance with old Jackie Chan
But the man from Hong Kong
(Still wearing his thong)
Took one look at her mother and ran
I fancy a third cup of tea
But the caffeine does not fancy me
It gives me the jitters
My heart patters and pitters
And worst of all, I'll have to pee
I've three hundred papers to mark
Before I go hunting the Snark
So I'll tick here and there
(Which is all I can bear)
And the rest's just a shot in the dark
On Friday, my mind starts to wander
To racing my gold-plated Honda
Or a ride on my Harley ?
Singin' "Work" by Bob Marley
And dressing a bit like Jane Fonda.
Cross-dressing at weekends for fun
Was a priest's habit, dressed as a nun
To add to the thrill
One more layer of frill
Transmogrification is done
We all seem to relish cross-dressing
It's the sauce for much delicatessing
Once you've chucked on a frock
You're no longer a jock
Which you'll soon come to learn is a blessing
Many good poems lately, in many locations :)
My uncle has just lost his wig
Exclaiming, "I don't give a frig!"
He's now on his knees [Have to divulge that I'd rather hoped that Condiments may have driven the last limerick [given that cross-dressing has been done to death on these sites]. Having been gifted 'relish' and 'dressing' - 'sauce' was an obvious choice, as was 'delicatessing'. Vinaigrette, mayonnaise, aioli, mustard, chutney and ketchup, salt and pepper, etc. could have all played a part. Clearly - I was *overthinking* it. UK - you're fired :-)]
Begging, "Dear Chalky, please"
"Bend over and grunt like a pig..."
[MP] Coward. Name yourself.
So Easter was just wet and cold
[pen] Astonishingly, 'twas not I
My chocolate's all covered in mould
And the poor Easter Bunny
Has a nose red and runny
He's really a sight to behold!
There once was a maiden so chaste
She thought cous-cous had too strong a taste
And as for harissa
Her tongue and her kisser
Fell off, so she had them replaced
I'm wondering what I should wear
Three-piece suit, Highland kilt, or stark bare?
Birthday suits are not fancy
But, according to Nancy,
There's no need to iron or pair
It's been left on the side for a week
And quite frankly, it's starting to reek
It's time to progress
And clean up this mess
So let's finish and go take a leak...
It's Monday and morning star rise
What a bright day - now take my advise:
Take a lungful of air
Jug a two week's dead hare
And don ye a pirate disguise
The forecast for Sunday is wet
That won't stop me -- it never has yet!
I'll be down on the beach
Attempting to teach
The old dog some tricks for a bet
The problem with thinking too much
Is that it give one an ache in the crotch
Cos my organ for thought
Have mind which is fraught ... what a heap of twaddle #channelingRosie
But it's positive thinking, as such...
I have never been able to dance
Do you think you could teach me, perchance?
With both my left feet
I'm willing to cheat
And show how they do it in France
According to French legislation
Islam is an alien nation
But in banning the veil
They'll let every male
Get horny on seeing an Asian.
My legs are all twitchy today
They simply will swivel and sway
I've gone weak at the knees
I don't think it's the fleas
If you don't mind I'll fold them away
[UK, R, P, S, R] Applause

I'm truly beginning to rot
Oh golly, I've been such a clot
Trench foot has set in
I act like a cretin
although I will vow that I'm not.
I'm known for mixing my words
You may sample sweet coffee or turds
So stor a fart
Go tick up a part
And fly like those bautical nerds
A candle-lit dinner for two
Is a popular thing to do
So on Valentine's Day
I will ask if I may
"Is it washing or drying you'll do?"
A trip to the beach might be nice
The sun, sea and sand do entice
With bucket and spade
And a brolly for shade
Topped off with a nice strawb'ry ice
The brain ghosts I see are all green
And they all want to cut out my spleen
Which I have been venting
With zeal unrelenting
Though rarely can it be seen
A phantom is haunting my lung
And now and then spooking my tongue
It wafts through my larynx
Via my nasopharynx
My ability to speak has gone bung
If you see a spectre abroad
It's likely to be Our Sweet Lord
But if the spectre has horns
Then, as the day dawns,
You'll see it's Nick Clegg - best ignored.
[Rosie] neat ending :)
Behold this condensed apparition
A product of dark superstition
Alive or undead
Or all in your head
Like a thumping nocturnal emission. (Chalky) Tu es très gentille.
Applause please - the wraith has ignited
My interest in Scunthorpe United
A team which just lacks
Defence and attacks
Thank goodness my love's unrequited.
audience applauds Tuj's finale*
*points out sins of omission*
And now, on the thirteenth of June
I wonder if it is too soon
To start Christmas shopping
Or New Year bed hopping
Or flying my hot air balloon
The Eurozone's future is dodgy (Chalky) Deliciously disgraceful.
As My Big Fat Greek Wedding, so podgy
The drachma and lira
May soon reappear, a
Sure sign the economy's stodgy
I have some pesetas indoors
Which Angela Merkel deplores Last one v. good esp. CdM & Softers.
"Ein Volk, Reich, und Geld!"
She recently yelled
And on cue - Georgios Samaras scores - ... they still lost 2 - 4 though :(
Last night as I shaved my left armpit
The razor was causing me harm - shit! ... rising to the challenge
As it scraped of the hairs
And with them my cares
I took a large nick from my tit! coat!
Softers - would've been even better as 'darn tit'
[Chalks] You can't get a man to curse a boob - they love them too much.
It's green eggs and ham every day
Or it would be - if Seuss had his way!
His prandial obsession
Drives one to depression
And it ain't even kosher, oy, vey!
Sliced thin, on rye, with brown mustard
Or served with fish fingers and custard
Whenever it's served
It's still quite absurd
Not to savour a plump baby bustard.
Thai chicken and lemongrass soup
A melon - a nice cantaloupe
No, give me baked beans
(And you know what that means!)
We're back in the flatulence loop
I'll settle for boeuf a la croute
Served up in a black leather boot
Cooked rare, by a wench
That I'd like to clench
Resplendent in her birthday suit.
Kofta curry and pork vindaloo
Are the height of cuisine – in my view
But then, I am fond
Of a good Sussex Pond
And the minds of Essex girls too
[Raak] Ooooh, I haven't cooked one in ages. Time for a revival I think :)
We eat and we drink - pee and shit
Then we do it again -- is that it?
Well, also, there's work
And the ultimate perk
Reproduction - that helps a bit.
While sipping my coffee-to-go
I got stuck in ten feet of pure snow
But, when cometh the spring
Caffeine gave me a zing
And already I've started to glow
I’ll switch to the gill- and the fin-mode
'cause we've water all over our main road
The Met Office says
It's raining for days
So my hair-drier's hit "overload"
My strimmer has broken - alas!
Please borrow my strummer, it's world class!
It does make a racket
'Tho' it cost me a packet
And the one thing it baulks at is grass.
I'm struggling to find any meaning
With offering Free Window Cleaning
To some it's quite clear
It's because you can peer
up the nethers of anyone leaning.
There once was an elderly goat
Who'd spawned several offspring of note
The Grand Druid of Wales
Often ran off the rails
Then got stoned and sowed out his wild oat...
There once were five spicy girls singing
But now they sound flat and look minging
If Take That re-formed
Then let us be warned
Alarm bells should be set ringing
There once was a Samurai hero
Whose score in swordfighting was zero
Though lacking in skill
He managed to kill
Both Lulu and Helen Shapiro. Bastard!
There once was a girl that could sing
(or so she once thought) anything
But once on the "X"
She lowered her kecks
And sang "Desert Song" a la Sting
The thing about artisan bread
Is its guaranteed freedom from lead
Instead you will find
That it makes you go blind
So I'll eat Hovis® instead
A vacation that is what we need
To drink beer, and cider, and mead
Relax by the pool
Eating gooseberry fool
Did anyone bring any weed?
I woke today with a sore throat
So I chewed on a piece of fried stoat
And to my surprise
I've a three octave rise
In a ditty I sing with my goat
This soup, with its noodles and chicken
Is good for the ill and flu-stricken
And even, some say
Keeps the lurgi at bay
In need though of Rum to un-thicken
When treating a bronchial infection
You'd better obey this direction
To draw out the phlegm
Just shout out "A-hem!"
And prepare for social rejection.
When drawing your last living breath
Here's what you can do to cheat death
Grab the Grim Reaper's scythe
With a gesture most blithe
Shouting, "Is this a knife?", like Macbeth
If you can't tell a knife from a spoon
You'll get classified as a loon
So just use a fork
When screwing a cork
And, yes, you are a buffoon
I uncorked a cru Beaujolais
With a vigneron from Régnié
But in getting my glass
I fell on my arse
Hidden text( M Logiciel) I am disappointed, as they say, that you have not pointed out that the first two lines don't rhyme.
So I guess I won't drink it today.
Down at the pub when I ordered my beer [M Rosé] c'est un petit point contesté, peut être.
[Software] By no stretch of poetic license does that scan into a limerick. I suggest:
Software - Down the pub when I ordered my beer
The barman said, "Be of good cheer!"
You're mighty good lookin'
Hidden text[Rosie] It's a subtlety that I think even French poets would get away with. Similar to 'glass' and 'arse', which don't rhyme terribly well for the majority of English speakers (even in England). It all worked out to be a good Limerick though, IMHO :-)
You do really good cookin'
So just maybe you should work here!
Who in their right mind would say
That duckin' an' divin' don't pay
For evading the law
(as a thug, thief or whore)
(not to mention the great CIA...)
I've invented a new kind of chair
It seats both you and your confrere
Your discreet tête-a-tête
Might make you be late
Hello, hello, hello. What's goin'on 'ere, then?
Because you can't go anywhere.
[Scansion Police] I read cfm's line as " it suits both you and your confrere." Sort of fits.
My village is threatened with Lidl
Let's hope the development bid'll
Fall foul of the planners
Or else protest banners
Will foil the town councillors' fiddle
Next week on the old village green
Is the festival of the obscene
We'll all go sheep-tupping
Unless we're one-upping
Then we'll shout: Hello Wean - you're so mean!"
Hello Wean, I have heard you've been here,"
Hidden textRosie, Software, Raak and Gil: I like the Lidl one :-)

Is the phrase that we don't want to hear
Because of the hype
And our pumpkins are ripe
Understood, then it's time to disappear.
We end up being eaten by worms
(It's in the conditions and terms)
If the deal's terminated
With the worms left unsated
We're reborn as a bunch of mean germs.
I can't help but think that that my wife
Is going to cause me more more strife :o)
Her insatiable needs
For thick Harris Tweeds
Have virtually killed our sex life
Tomorrow I vow that I will
Tell Starbucks their product is swill
And then let's all partay
With mugs of real lahtay
And stick Howard Schultz with the bill
For those really hard to reach places
And other quite difficult cases
Try this handy new cleaner
Her name is Georgina
Employed on a no clean, no shag basis.
If out to eliminate bacteria
You need to eschew all hysteria
Calmly use bleach
On every and each
And then your milieu will be clearier
sorry sorry sorry
[pen] fair enough :-)
In London it's raining today
Elsewhere it's flooding they say
But I haven't seen yet
A great spouting jet Surprised the word "posterior" didn't come up in that last one ;-)
Like the one at Trafalgar Square Bay...
I eat a durian each day
And I get them for free, do not pay
And while they are stinky
Like my wee willie-winky
They increase your libido, so-say
Some lines are real close to perfection
I've written one for your inspection
And if you look here
To get a good steer
There's a clue to their mode of erection
In a market in old Timbuctu
An old friend I by chance bumped into
And since we were two
We knocked up a stew
Of camel and goat and mantu
In a hotel in snowy Siberia
Where the rooms and the beds are inferior
To those in Bulgaria
Where the toilets are airier oblig.
Your breakfast is free from bacteria... (...they've frozen to death...)
In a tuk tuk in wet Kalimpong
You can go right -- or you can go wrong
Sometimes up - sometimes down
And in some parts of town
Get whatever you like for a song
Now soon a new year will arrive
It divides by three but not five
Sum up its digits - that's six
Then put them into the mix
What pleasure from sums we derive!
Hidden text[irach & software] I didn't want to start the new year off on a pedantic note, but If you delete "up" and "Then" from your lines, respectively, they scan much more nicely

With unbroken sunshine today After two weeks of time off work - and rain every day
I'm going to come out and play
Work can wait till next week
Meanwhile let us seek
Many reasons to laugh and be gay ...in honour of Softers' coming out.
I sing 'cos I'm glad to be gay playing along
And a friend of the late Ronnie Kray
Through the songs that I sing
Haven't brought me much bling
I did meet Sinatra one day!
Next week I'll be joining a band
Of barbarians, roaming the land
'Cos I've signed for Port Vale
(I'm told they serve ale)
But their football is a bit bland
Next year is the Year of the Snake
I'll hit the dammed thing with my rake
Before I'll let it crawl
Up my lavat'ry wall (Softers) Were you thinking of
Hidden text My friend Billy's got a ten-foot willy/And he showed it to the girl next door/She thought it was a snake/So she hit it with a rake/And now it's only six foot four.
?
And admit that it was my mistake....
In Eden the apples are ripe
And of aphrodisiac type
So I baked a nice pie
For my hubby to try
But the proof of the pudding is hype
'Hail fellow! Well met!' said the pastor
(Of true bonhomie he's the master)
With a wink and a grin
He absolved me of sin
Confession just got somewhat faster!
On the first day of Februar-ee
Thirty eight things my love gave to me: [C,R,S,p,P] Nice.
One was a jewel
And one was a tool
Which he inserted delicat-lee.
American football's confusing
Or possibly downright bemusing
Most don't touch the ball
Though players are tall
Superb owls are much more amusing
She is wise as an owl I've been told
Her knowledge is quite manifold
On the subject of voles
She impresses the proles
Though that's hardly one of her goals.
When Richard the third called for 'horse' something topical for a change
'Twas past time to bargain, of course
You can't use a nation
For experimentation
Though many do so, and by force.
I'd like to replace "experimentation" with "negotiation" in that last limerick. :-)
They're preparing for this year's Grand Prix
We'll be fighting on land and at sea
From Le Mans to Dubai
Yeongam and Shanghai
And what's left of the old Aral Sea.
Oscar, my dear, your red rug
Is home to many a bug
Tho' to you it is cosy
It's hellish for Rosie
Who itches and cannot get snug.
The slanderous comments above
And the full implications thereof
Are herewith rescinded
In manner long-winded
Devoted to brother and sisterly love...!
The Conclave's elected Pope Mary,
Who plans to be Jesus's fairy
A pontiff with wings
Who can do magic things
But the giveaway is - she's so hairy
Bugger - insert quotation marks around "she's" if you would
The puff of white smoke tells us all
That the popemobile's just hit the wall
But look out, now it's black! (...the smoke of course...)
Is Benedict back?
Or a reincarnated John-Paul?

When tales are retold you will know
That the heroes of long, long ago
Committed great deeds
While riding their steeds
Yelling "Woe-Hi-Di-Hi-Hi-Di-Hoe!"
In the Alps they are yod'ling a lot,
While their cheese gently boils in the pot
Such stereotyping
And Franco-Swiss griping
Is likely to get someone shot
Italians, in gen'ral, are charming
Their generals, though, are alarming
Their finances are scary
Signoras faces so hairy
Which is why generals find them disarming
But the Greeks are, truth to tell,
Descendants of heaven and hell .. a tad short on footage Pablo but think we can make it work ...
Just now it's the latter (Chalks) 'E fough' itza peon-unny recipe, dinny?
Though only a matter
That Cyprus will go down as well
A Monegasque makes a fine friend
With big pots of money to lend
He dresses in green
And bows to the queen
So you'll see where it's all going to end!
Are you ready to start your new life?
As side-kick to old Mack the Knife
But as opera's go
This threepenny show
Is more suited for somebody's wife.
Sorry, for got the line break!
I chanced upon Lady Godiva
Who said; "If you'll give me a fiver,
I'll cut off my hair
But I hope you're aware
on a horse, I'm not such a good driver.
At luncheon with old Friar Tuck
We dined on a stew of braised duck
We saved the skimmed fat
To give to the cat
And using the catflap, she stuck!
Thenceforth to Maid Marian's for tea [last line .. worth the wait. Nice one SM]
A generous hostess is she
A Battenburg cake
(The marzipan's fake!)
Goes well with a glass of Chablis
In the pub with my friend Little John
I thought 'What the hell's going on?'
For he'd got out his staff
And then just for a laugh
He poked it up my sit-upon.
Lovely!
Will Scarlett's a rum sort of fellow [PPNcR] Heehehehehehe
"Come chase me!", he's oft-heard to bellow.
Then he shins up a tree
And cries, "Come, follow me!"
But sadly they're all far too yellow
At the wedding of Alan-a-Dale
The couple wore matching chain mail
Her chastity belt
Could hardly be felt
And his, back-to-front, had a tail.
I can hardly believe I wrote that. Inexcusable
[pen] I can. Excusable. Funny
The green-fingered Sherriff of Nottingham
Grew cannabis plants, and was potting 'em [pen] Digusting! I hardly know where to put myself. Somewhat like Alan-a-Dale, it seems!
When in burst the cops
And said "Are these hops?"
He said "Yes, well done for spotting 'em." (Ladies) Can't have too much femfilth.
Sir Guy of Gisbourne gets quite cross
When you stand in the way of his hoss
"Begone, varlet!" he'll shout
"Lest I give thee a clout"
"And into my dungeons you toss."
Now Robin, that man with the hood
Claimed his motives were thoroughly good
Steal from rich, give to poor
(Unlike Osborne and more)
Then make merry with maids in the wood.
And as for that wicked King John
Who thought that the battle he'd won
Would earn him respect
Instead, he got decked
So the limerick game could go on
In trying to unscramble an egg
I soon spent an arm and a leg [Quen] Liked that - good finish!
My marbles got lost
My salad got tossed
And I noticed you'd emptied my keg ...
Though she knew he was called Jack the Ripper
And she'd heard what he did to young Pippa
She couldn't resist
A hazardous tryst
So thank God he got stuck in his zipper
[M, C, S and P] Nicely done, if I say so myself. Let's crack open some pre-war ginger beer!
This bottle of old ginger beer why not?
Was brewed on the banks of the Wear
In nineteen-oh-two
In a stevedore's shoe
No wonder it tastes rather queer
*flees*
The worst thing to say to a Swede
Is to ask him: "Just how do you breed?"
His reply, you will see
Just between you and me
Involves ABBA and herrings. And mead!
The sunburn that glows on my neck
Will keep my libido in check
And apart from the spots
That I've got by the lots
There's the fact I'm a banking exec.
But really, the public should thank us
We are, after all, quite high rankers
And we haven't, quite yet
learned the alphabet
but we're primo at being bankers!
This first line should set us alight
Make us shiver, if we've done it right
And further additions
or even omissions
Well made, yield the greatest delight.
Rise up, all you left-handed folks!
And publish your best rated jokes
But say nothing sinister
Or I'll call your minister
And believe me, that threat is no hoax.
A monk and a rabbi ate dinner
of kerosene and of paint thinner
This combustible fare
Consumed on a dare
Made one nor the other a winner.
Nice finish, Kagje.
A day full of procrastination
May contain brief bouts of fascination
F'rinstance with clips
Of wiggly hips
Or else some discombobulation wipes brow
A chihuahua and terrier cross
Decided that he was the boss
So the dachshund got fired
The golden retired
And the rest ... ? Not one gives a toss.
There once was a cat from Andorra
Whose whiskers grew morer and morer
Till this Pyrenees mog
(Real name Quentin Hogg)
Belted her one - she got sorer
When Mitzi took umbrage, she aimed .. u s a perhaps? ..
Through her sights at the one man she blamed
His scathing reviews
Was not ment to amuse
But some other fellow got framed.
Never admit you're from Chatham
In New Hampshire, the same goes for Stratham
But if you're from Bath
Yer good for a larf
When it started to rain in Bath
Ummm, shall we finish the previous Limerick first?
Never admit you're from Chatham
In New Hampshire, the same goes for Stratham
But if you're from Bath
Yer good for a larf
Unlike Strasbourg (once Argentoratum)

When it started to rain in Bath
I outgrabe like a mome rath
But my feeling of whimsy
Was fleeting and flimsy forcing attempt denied
As I fled from the borogove path
I once lunched in Stow-on-the-Wold
My starter was greasy and cold
The main course inedible
The bill was incredible
And the walls were all covered in mold. Sorry about that not finishing last time. I guess one should not play when one is extremely tired, even if for odd reasons, one cannot sleep.
I once gave a farmer a lift [Phil] I am insulted! The Strasbourgeois are lots of fun!
He just had some garlic, and whiffed
I deployed my ejector
To a vertical vector [nights] I'm sure they are, given the quantity of beer brewed there. I was simply struggling for a rhyme :-)
Then launched into orbit quite swift…
Tomorrow the Moon will return
From its weekend out with Saturn
While the moon was away Excuses, excuses... :)
The earth did decay
So perhaps it is best to adjourn?
There's nothing as fast as a cheetah
So says my feline speed-o-meter
But if you want slow
(So slow it don't show) internal rhyme alert...
Watch lichen — a sloth record-beater.
Today, I am dyeing. It's black... (re-dying faded black clothes black)
As a glass of black mild Nutty Slack
Its minute albedo
Is just right for sado- ...that was a tricky one, Rosie.
-lin, Matching my nice Chapeau Claque.
(gil) Yeah, a bit clever-clever, but there's speedo, libido, paedo, lido, credo, Toledo.
All my clothes have been eating by moths
And my shoes have been slothing by sloths Making a feature out of the quirk of KS's line
And as for my hats
They're all nested by bats
So they think I've been haunting by Goths
We are what we eat we have heard
So I'm mostly tomatoes and curd
And I'm a nice curry
I eat in a hurry
And for me, olives are the last word
The practice of oenomancy
Is one that the Romans did fancy
By sharing a cask
An enquirer could ask
Which actions were safe and which chancy
A strapping young fellow named Clancy
When working the clubs was called Nancy
He strapped while she stripped
And flopped while he flipped
For the clients who all took his fancy
That all-soft'ning o'erpowering knell
Means you're on a journey to Hell Not you, m'dear.
Slip into the mire
To a fate that is dire
And our trip down the hill ´s going swell.
There's a gap in my force-field of love
Through which demons and succubi shove
It's a worm-hole of lust
And romance turns to dust
Which flies to the clouds up above.
This journey could go on forever
And is surely not worth the endeavor
For when we arrive
From a very long drive
There's been a change in the weather
There's a feeling - or is it just me? -
That this verse will stop dead at line three
I'm not one to doubt.








If I reincarnate as a puffin
I'll mulishly call myself Muffin
On the island of Lundy
My partner and me
Will nest-build from navels with fluff in.
We have heard that the winner takes all [T, R, R, S, B]Excellent, free drinks tonight!
But don't fret should the wealth start to gall
Cash can't bring you joy
Unless you're called Roy
But it's better than bugg*r all
[Softers] If I may be so bold - you are significantly short-syllabled and arrhythmic in both your last entries .. thought you'd sussed this game by now ;-)

Marc - The Scansion-class this Fall semester
Will be taken by the head jester [Chalks] I disagree, it does work.
The Rhymer's a clown
The jester will frown
At the way that these matters obsessed her.
Hidden textIt's a jestess.

All our efforts to set the bar higher [Softers] Hope we can agree to disagree. ;-)
have us jumping from skillet to fire
Where we are consumed (Funny Girl) You're right. I'll have a word with him next time he's over.
All pedants presumed [Chalks] Naturally :o)
Class dismissed and now also ceasefire.
Debate is a most healthy thing
At the Darby and Joan Club in Tring
It helps them stay young
And grease up their tongue
So with their friends they can swing
In Somerset, Dorset and Devon
They're always in bed by eleven
But the people of Hants
Are just putting on pants
And they won't be back home until seven
In the flat agricultural east
All cult'ral activity has ceased
The turnips are ready
So tasty but thready
Fit neither for man nor for beast
So The Ashes will grind to an end
With rain being England's best friend
And Broady and Swann
Turn their sprinklers on
As they've more than a penny to spend No takers all week? Ah well.
While spending an evening in Kettering (Chalky) We can lose with grace, but not win.
Perfecting my copperplate lettering
I blotted my book
(As the locals say,"fook!")
Putting paid to my hopes for its bettering.
My computer has not crashed today
Unusual for Windows®, they say
And although I'm pleased
I know if I sneezed
My screen would collapse and turn grey...
Good morning all poets it's time
To celebrate autumn in rhyme
Write of 'mellow' and 'fruit'
And rabbits to shoot
With apples to pick in their prime
But what do you say of the rain?
Well, it's wet and it goes down the drain
It hangs out in pools I thought 'puddles' would be too hard to rhyme. You're welcome
And obeys fluid rules
Before long it will come back again.
The rain in Spain, so they say
Mainly falls on the plain every day
But the Sierra Nevada Some very dubious climatology here.
(the one in Granada)
Is fine all year round, so "Olé!"
While enjoying a Café au Lait
I was asked, "Are you well?". I said "Très!"
Mais le cuillère est bent
Et la tasse 'as une dent - just googled le cuillère to check my schoolgirl french. Ooh la kama sutra la!
Mais le goût, je vous dis, est OK.
*applauds*
*Applauds the limerick; winces at the Franglais*
[Phil] Then I reckon we need more practice...
Aujourd 'hui, le naming de parts
comme les fruits pour le making of tarts
Will commence avec plum
Bien sur, mon ol' chum
Mais ils font tous nos dents plutôt schwartz Aha! See what I did there.
Demain machen wir ein gateau
Mor drwm â'r Tibetan Plateau (Welsh) "as heavy as the".
Ik heb een gros pain
Horror vacui my brain
Und el pastel est dans my zapato
Enough now let's get back to work
Said the dull-witted jobsworth from Chirk
Then off went th'alarm My Dad's from near Chirk.
At 5 on the farm
So he got himself up with a jerk
The jerk I got up with today
Is not worth the money I pay
He costs seventeen pence
I must have no sense
I hope he'll just go away
The mocking the trainspotter suffers
In anorak stood by the buffers
The trains passing by
See the young 'spotter cry
"What's 'Get a life!' mean, you duffers?"
Young Pablo just timed to perfection
His disdain for social rejection
He avoided a snub
But this is the rub
And we offer him full time protection.
Today I think I will shuffle
My coats - both trench and duffle [Chalky] young???
- graze the floor as I walk
And muffle my talk
And fill my big mouth with fine truffle.
Glanting rain and sprale winds are forecàst
In Zeroia the land of my past
Where spallion fields grow
Fine cronx in the snow
And my abras are blooming at last.
Her knickers were bloomy and pink
I smiled, she laughed with a wink.
And as she bent down
A fart rent her gown
And that's what's done drove me to drink
Campari, Pernod, Gin and Whisky
All in a pint glass rather risky
Add a few whites of eggs
To stiffen the dregs
Scoff it down, and feel rather frisky
Your challenge this Tuesday is thus:
Take a flock of wild geese on the bus.
When you reach Euston Square
Disembark with a pair
As the others quack "What about us?" bugger me, talking geese.
The students in British Lit
Should study the format a bit! K-S - you're a syllable short, m'dear!!
The syntax and grammar
Cause newbies to stammer
Plus most think that Shakespeare is shit.
There once was a Viking called Jeff
Who chiselled the first letter F
When faced with the second
Distraction soon beckoned
And instead of Jeff, he was Jef.
Hidden textHey, Edward Lear always used the same ending word for the first and last lines of his limericks.

An orthodox rabbi called Skuld
Discovered his cocoa had cooled
He said to Verðandi
Your blowtorch comes handy
But it's strange that it is bejeweled.
Your challenge this Tuesday is this:
To be pleasant to your little sis
But as for your brother
Your father and mother,
Just carry on taking the piss.
There once was a man from the States
Named Billy - but he had No Mates
Except for Tim Nice
And Leontyne Price
Which kind of restricted his dates
A tale of forbidden papayas It was the idea of a restricted date that got me thinking on these lines
And lovers in heat on the playas
Gave way to the sun
Which ruined the fun
This UV is just sent to try us.
Your challenge this Tuesday is risky
To make it to lunch without whisky
And restrain your desires
To start small office fires
And entice the young temps to be frisky.
On Wednesday the sun will go nova
We'll be done to a crisp; it's Game Over
So let's party all week
Give our fun cells a tweak
And spend the final few moments in clover
My teeth are all falling apart They are.
They're going to hell in a cart
So chewing's a chore
And biting's a bore
It sucks being such an old fart
Being a New-comer, I am always seeking online for articles that could assist me. Many thanks! %KW% Elizabeth http://adw7.ru/user/izlxybtidbt/

Marc - There once was a most thankful Russian
Whose life was once saved by a Prussian
But along came a Spaniard
In a style most maññered
And Olé! El Ruso was blushin'.
Sir Cornelis Maartenszoon Tromp
Was the first to cross Zuiderzee Swamp
But his dugout canoe
Sprang a leak, maybe two
But he got there and arrived in some pomp. well, with a name like that....
I've discovered a whizzo new game
I just need to think up a name
There's only one rule:
You must play like a fool,
And never make two moves the same.
I suggest that we start with this line,
"There was an old man of Loch Fyne"
And then for the second,
A rhyme which is reckoned
Would be absolutely divine!
The Doctor's re-written the past
And Who else but he could recast
But the Great Originator
Or the grim terminator
(We're desperate to make this series last)
There once was a cool desperado
Who claimed t'have written The Mikado
On the opening night [Rosie] I'd have put the "'t" next to Mikado
He just started to fight
With a G & S afficionado
(Kim) I had no particular reason to imply boreality. Isn't this sound really just a glottal stop attached t'' previous word? You can't really alter title o'' work. There ought to be a symbol for it.
Christmas is upon us
'Oh no it's not!' we shout Oh no it's not.
oh poop. I've glow-wormed rather than limericked. Ignore my post.
"'Tis! 'tis!" responds the chorus It was glow-wormed from the start

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

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

There once was a Limerick class,
For the bad rhyme and rhythm dumbass
When it came to the test
They duly confessed
'Twas unlikely their scansion would pass
Inspired by the moon, as I am
To snort and to rut like a ram
On this cloudy night
I gave Boris a fright
And stole his tart filled with yam.
Hidden textNot a great line but...

Today is the day when it's done
I've dared be tattooed with a pun
This indelible mark
Is a jolly good lark
And a tribute to my only sun
Jacob the Third from Dunlevy
Drove round the block in his Chevvy
His miles-per-gallon
Hidden textBroke this small poem

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

Impressed Jimmy Fallon
But the rhymes that he chose were not clevvy Dunlevy? Chevy? Purlease!!! *repeats rant about poor rhyming and scansion from MCiOS*
[pen] It's enough to make one go out on a bevvy.
(Raak) I need little persuasion.
There's a man outside with a beard
And a cap with three bobbles so weird
He says he's from Spain
And arrived on the train
And he'll stay till the weather has cleared.
[pen]
Hidden text"But were poor 'cos the car was so heavy" was ringing in my ears when I wrote the American talk-show host into the rhyme.

My brother is sporting a hat
In which he just looks a twat (Phil) I'm sure he's not.
Hidden textHe's not, but he does look one in the hat. I saw a photo on facebook this morning, and that was precisely the 2nd line I had in mind
With his knob-ended cane
And arched eyebrow so vain
He looks smart but is still the same brat.
My cuckoo clock seem to be hatching
A plot for a plague that's so catching
The mould in its thatch
Is almost a match
For the lepidote nose you've been scratching.
[Chalky] Thank you for the new word I have learned today.
The lexicographical treasures
Onomatopoetical pleasures
Neological joys
Of semantical toys
To be found in thrasonical measures.
Let us dabble and stolch in the wood
And not do the things that we should
Let us shout, run and laugh
With the riff and the raff
Rob the poor - let's get rich, understood...?
I wonder who's kissing her now?
Probably death - poor cow.
And also who's teaching her how
To make our rhyme scheme more lowbrow
There once was a withered old rose
Whose weak mind was set writing prose
And the non-scanning lines
Gave no points only fines
And the reason for this no one knows…

I still wonder but will never know
Just where did my other sock go?
It's gone - it's a myst'ry
That stocking is hist'ry oblig.
I'll wear odd'uns - d'yer think it'll show?
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
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
And my only companion's a wattle
It's lonely in here
And I've run out of beer
A little won't do, but a lot'll.
If your glass is half full - ask for more
There's plenty more booze in the store
But if they run out
You need not fear a drought
There's a cellar-full under this floor
The "trend" is now artisan gin
I hate it, don't count me in
It's flavoured with sprouts
And it gives you bouts
Of hives, as it says on the tin.
Have you heard that the jailbirds don't sing?
Except for the ones in "E" wing
Who'd better watch out
They've got all the snout
Though the Warden just found their bling-bling.
I've a bee in my bonnet this morn
'Bout the number of voles being born
In our Highlands pristine somehow just started reading that with a Scots accent and it just went on
So loved by our queen
Where the owls that eat voles have all gorn finishing in a silly upper-class accent
There once was a scholar of Erse
Who studied the odd and perverse
For instance the tuba
And the grammar of Luba
To find mysteries of our universe.
Behold! I can see a great light
'Tis a beacon of hope in the night
But hang on a mo'
'cause your eyes are aglow
In the mirror they make quite a sight
An owl brought a letter today
From the timelords of old Gallifrey
The message ran: "Who"
"Might be able to do"
Miracles? - it ain't Mrs May"
I once knew a lady named Claire
So sweet and polite - but beware
Her angelic smile
Displayed with much guile
Did not touch her thousand-yard stare.
A request for Santa this year:
A little less reeking of beer
"Oh my dear, it's too late,"
"For the Beer Keg of Fate"
"Meets the Bibulous Beardie," I fear.
What to do with all this fruit cake? DadaDAH(smallpaws)aDAHdadaDAH was how it ran in my head
It's a mountain that dwarfs the wine lake
And this turkey, what's more
Could feed forty-four
I think I'll have a stomachache!
Whenever you're drinking too much
You can be sure that your rhymes will go futsch or phutsch
Your speech will then schlur
You'll pause with "oh er...."
But the courage you'll have will be Dutch
Falling gracefully off of my horse
My language was of course coarse (Superman) I get a strong feeling you have tried to start a Pea and Honey Recipes.
And the bump in my head
Which my grandmother read
Told a tale of coarse horse course remorse
nice
Chalky - Instead of just taking a bite
Grab a mouthful with gusto tonight
Your brash mastication
Is a sure indication
That back from the pub you're quite tight
The pen of a pig is a sty
The pen of a writer asks "Why?"
A pen-aid-ed shell
As a cell we can smell
And there's one pen who waved us goodbye.
The last thing I do before bed
Is to check that I'm still not quite dead
The result of this test
Along with the rest
Makes me feel that I'm still newlywed...
Have you noticed Spring is on its way
Well it's early - come when it's May
No, come now, I'm frozen
Vests by the do-zen
Just who led this winter astray? mercy killing
You must always make sure you are right
When walking The High Line at night
Should you lose your direction
Just ask a policeman
Hidden textNo one seems to want Pablo's offered rhyme so fuck it
Who'll tell you "Hey Mac, take a hike"
My cat is a fearsome ratter
And eats other animal matter
Disgusting? I'll say!
Please take it away
To a place where old cats are made flatter... ;-)
If you're aiming to get a flat belly
Give up Coke, burgers, beer, and the telly
And go for a run
Don't eat that bun
Though I think you can binge-out on jelly
A cynic who lived in a jar
Hidden text https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Diogenes
Smoked Capstan Untipped (they're high tar)
Drank unfiltered beer
But what's more severe
Drove a Volkswagen diesel-fueled car.
laffed out loud. Well done everyone
This reprobate jar-living bloke
Ridiculed orthodox folk (Juxt) I thought Dodgynees was a retired footballer
Alexander the Great
Was the butt of his hate
Since the rich are all scum when you're broke (Rosie) You're thinking of Soccertes
[Juxtapose] Soccertees handled the merchandise.
All those years that I spent learning Greek
On my way to be Monk Dominique
Have tired my poor brain
But yet, then again
Cézanne was a bit of a freak
I have here a pint of best porter
With which I shall do what I oughter
Just sink it in one
And when it's all gone
I will pee at least one foam-topped quarter.
One Gallon of beer is enough
To serve all the guests at my trough
But a pint don't go far
It's well below par (Marc, penult.) See a doctor.
Red Barrel; t'would make a saint gruff
"It's Real Ale™ or nowt!" cried the lad
"Joost like it was for me Dad"
No Watney's Red Barrel
No flashy apparel
But e-cigs By't dozen, By Gad!
One pint IPA if you'd please (Rosie, I ment a quart of a gallon as I hope everyone else understood)
Three packs of crisps (onion and cheese)
This feast for the senses
Removes one's defences
'Gainst multiple Sky Sports TV's
There once was a lady from Surrey I have a great fondness for the classical forms
Who, determined to supper on curry
Took a flight out to Delhi
Made the air e'en more smelly (Juxt) Yeah, trad is best. BTW all women in Surrey are ladies and generally rather expensive. I live in Surrey, the rough end.
Got Delhi belly and left in a hurry
I sticks to me good old pork pies
Baked into a sandwich, with fries
Add ketchup, to taste
And thus I'm never faced
As I make them in double full-size...
The answer to most of life's ills
Is contained in this bottle of pills
With a tamper-proof lid
And the price is ten quid
Just remember me in your wills.
I tell you, there's nowt wrong with me
Except for the pain when I pee
But a wee bit of chemo
Plus doses of Nemo
Will fill me with glee when I wee-wee
I'm driving sans DC and A
Stevie, to get into the spirit of this a bit, what's DC&A? C&A I know about...
When the British police feel they have a case to be made against someone for a traffic violation involving a collision of the putative defendent's vehicle with another or a piece of public or private property, the catch-all summons that can be relied upon to result in a conviction when, say, driving while impaired or dangerous driving are unlikely to be provable to either a judge or a jury of the defendent's peers, is Driving Without Due Care and Attention, which is demonstrably true since driving with due care and attention would preclude crashing into things, and is referred to by the rozzers writing out the citations as "Without DC & A".

Stevie - I'm driving sans DC and A
And you'd better get out of the way
My foot's to the floor
And I'll tell you what's more
This time I'm gonna make hay.
My car is a late model Ford
But I wanted a '32 Cord
But the grille, what a mess
Was defect, more or less
So come back when you've had it restored.
Whilst combing my hair I was shocked
'cause the 'thing' in the mirror it talked
It said back to me
"You're not real, don't you see?"
"That just now, reality forked?"
He was born by the side of the sea
Though which side we'll just have to see
On this side of the pond
It's clear there's a bond
'Tween Donald and PM May, T.
There once was a piper from Kent
Whose youth had been gravely misspent
With billiards and booze
And the odd drunken snooze
None of which he had tried to prevent
My Dad was a sensible fellow
With a deep voice and rather loud bellow
He'd keep me in check
By grabbing my neck
And force me to leave the bordello
Each day when I get out of bed
And see I'm alive, and not dead
I shout "Yay! I'm still here!"
Drink six pints of beer
And ask if I'm really still wed.
In a cave in the high Himalayas
It's mild - you can shed a few layers
And the bonze that sits there
Has really no fear
For the Yeti they've named Zacharias.
I hail from the island of Crete
Where minotaurs roam in the street (It's a little known fact.)
No prisoners they take
Though it is piece of cake
As large bull-heads are easy to beat (Marc: eh?)
My family all come from Malta
Impossible, sadly, to alter
But once they got here
With their Cisk Lager beer   (Nice to see you, pen, nice).
My CAMRA credentials did falter
I'm a product, alas, of suburbia
Not the outback of deepest Australia
I mow my lawn weekly [Dujon - pushing that one a bit..]
With my mower uniquely
Designed in a way to disturb ya.
I'm afraid that we've run out of ink
And that's much much much worse than you think
The pen yields to the sword
Which cannot be ignored
So we're now pretty much all down the sink
I've got a strange longing for pigeon [muttleee] Hello!
At the same time discarding religion
I'll just get the cat
And a grim scabby rat
And stuff them all into a widgeon.
When given a fecund first line [Tuj] Hello! Feels like I've never been away...
We'll fec it up in record time [And the cheesecake man's back as well, at Dan's, along with a gaggle of aunties of questionable authenticity.]
With approximate rhyming
And dubious timing [muttleee] Well, you've still got all your vowels, you must be in good health
By our standards, that'll do fine!
They've invented both Twitter and Mail
Though some thinks they're just a fairytale
The virtual world
Into which we've been hurled
Is surely now destined to fail [Tuj] The best. :-)
Our grim fate comes nearer each day
So frolic, get bladdered, make hay
You only live once!
So let's do as the Huns,
And start a rumbustious affray
Here's my friend, Attila the Hun
Who's frisky and so full of fun
When he's out with his horde
Putting folk to the sword
Then downs the odd mead when he's done
I took a short break down in Devon
Which compared with Dunoon is nigh heaven
Here I met little Sue,
Who was from Dunoon too
And stood at just four foot eleven
The painting that hangs on the wall A blank canvas for you folks
Is by that bloke whatcher'm'call
He didn't paint many
To sell at a penny
It's that famous Batiste de Saint Paul!
That Lisa's a bit of a Mona
Though she gives me a bit of a boner
Her wee mystic smile
Filled with Botox off style
Has beguiled for as long as I've known 'er
While pruning my roses today
At first cut my left thumb went away
I stuck it back on
But the feeling had gone
I've now heard it'll come back in May
Dear sir! That's your dick not your thumb,
No it isn't. You think I do nude rose pruning? You think it's prehensile? You think I can't tell the difference?
The good folk of Dwygyfylchi maybe not
Examine your left index finger
Make sure that it's not a ringer
Now point it like this
And make sure you don't miss
(Good advice for an opera singer.)
I was singing the part of "Otello"
I admit, it was more like a bellow
But I hit every note
With a bray like a goat
Or the sound of a mistreated cello.
After two pints of beer you pee three
After three pints of pee you feel free
So let it all out!
Mild, bitter or stout
If outdoors, at the base of a tree.
In this bottle, there is some shampoo
Which was made by a relative, who
Blended kangaroo milk
In a vat made of silk oblig.
But it has made my hair look quite new
I wash my toupée with this soap
On days when I feel I can't cope
When I glue it back on
(Yes, I know it's a con)
It has shrunk so I look like the Pope...
In Pope-Look-Alike contests, I suck
Some gobstoppers, to bring me good luck
The judges, however
See through my endeavour
But give me some points for sheer pluck
As she silently slunk down the stairs [p,S,R,B,P] Oh, nice!
She took me quite unawares
From behind my back
She launched her attack
Now I'll never produce any heirs Ouch
But she did try to make some amends
And restore me as nature intends
By a surgical trick
She re-lit my wick
My candle now burns at both ends
By Jove it has been a long time
Since wordplay I've seen so sublime (Softers) Dirty bugger
Take care of the metre
Do not be a cheater
And accomplish both reason and rhyme.
Catherine wheels, sparklers galore
Are really a bit of a bore
Petrol's more fun
So get ready to run
As it reaches the dynamite store
A parcel, marked "Use at own risk"
Contained a fork and a whisk
So into the bin
Went my old theremin
Along with its old floppy disc.
Now look what's arrived in the mail
An ad for Kentucky Fried Snail
Their delicious fast food
Considered quite crude
Except by those who quaff ale.
I'm guessing Kentucky Fried Snail is slow food . . .
Christmas is coming, deep joy
Let's piss from The Old Man of Hoy
In the teeth of a gale
Drink buckets of ale
Just like they do down in Fowey.
Has Christmas gone yet, oh God please?
It has left me right down on my knees
Let's finish the wine
And take down the pine
Then sail once again the seven seas.... See you next year...
Are you sure that you know how it works?
It seems to be moving in jerks
It jumps and it sputters
Built by complete nutters
But watch how its huge big end twerks!
If you have a case of the trots
A Samsonite case will hold lots
Or a big plastic bag
But it sounds like a drag
(This verse has been written by bots)
It's better as ink when it's runny
But my goodness! It smells rather funny
I detect faecal notes
And the entrails of goats
I'll flush it all down the dunny invoking Oz slang
Now hearken ye all, MC types,
Ye must cease to use Pampers wet wipes
They clog up the drains
As they clean up your stains [oblig.}
And no-one likes unblocking pipes.
The sewers, in heat of the summer,
Smell like John Selwyn Gummer
As autumn begins
It's the Eagle twins
All in all, a bit of a bummer
I've sawn a bit off of a Beemer
It now can't keep up with a steamer
If I stick it back on
Is the guarantee gone?
Yep, it won't be a redeemer
My Mercedes-Benz went into flames
And came out to roaring acclaims
With scarcely a scorch
Of its paint to debauch
Those Teutonically engineered frames.
I tried putting wheels on my yacht
And this is as far as I've got:
Just two to the port
From a pram? The same sort
High-tech this solution is NOT.
The V8 that powers the pram
Runs on butane, palm oil and jam
The noise that it makes
ENSURES BABY WAKES
Hidden textFOR PITY'S SAKE EITHER TURN IT OFF OR FIT A SILENCER! MY EARS ARE BLEEDING!
And sounds like a dithyramb.
My restored '69 Thunderbird
Drinks gas at a rate quite absurd
It acceleration
Provokes deglaciation
– I'd not even known that was a word
The good folk of Walton-on-Thames
Are addicted to brûléeing crèmes
And once it's been brûled
This middle-class food
Requires many trips to the gyms.
Bzzt-twang! Rhyme only works in South Africa.
The gits of Newcastle-on-Tyne
Go on benders with Carlsberg and wine
They stop all their diets
Cause mayhem and riots
– By regional standards they're fine.
In order to preserve my sanity
I cultivate o'erweening vanity
As I go through the day
I hope and I pray
For an overall drop in inanity
I find talk of weather profound [Simons] Lovely last lines for the previous two...
Deep in a flood, I'll be bound
This dire cyclonicity
And damp synchronicity
Confuses my poor little hound.
If you want to bamboozle a dog
Just dress him like Jacob Rees Mogg
In top had and tails
With manicured nails
And not keep going to the bog.
When Corona was just a drink
And the world was not yet on the brink
We thought it a lark
To have fun in the dark
Social distance at zero (*wink wink*)
In a cupboard, while playing "Sardines"
I wished I'd not eaten baked beans Nice pay-off, CdM
My flatulence there
Was too much to bear
And I melted a hole in my jeans
There's a trick to op'ning canned beer
For one thing, wear the right gear
Take dagger and cloak
Give it a good poke
And watch it spray far and near
In these times of foreboding and gloom
I'm simply not leaving my room
So if you want to cheer me
Without standing near me
Facetime me so I can zoom
I've just heard that Boris is sick
I hope his recovery's quick
To founder and fail
But keep out of jail
Is a very Pfeffelian trick
Once was, that all roads led to Rome
But now, we must all stay at home
And not wipe our arses
Through government farces
So please don't be tempted to roam
The peak of infection is past
And though working from home is a blast
Does nobody know
Just where I might go
Sorry, those days are past.
It's got to be time for a brew
But please don't let it stew
When infusing the leaves
I'll tell you what peeves
Not knowing where each of them grew
Hidden textSocial Distancing provides opportunity for such ponderings

Home alone. I've searched - there's no other
Those bed socks belong to my mother
And the knocks in the walls
And the plaster that falls
On me is such a bother
Relaxing the rules just a little
A lot wouldn't do, but a bit'll
Think it's all over
And visit their lover Shakespearian Rules declared
What'll then hit the fan? Oh, the shit'll.
Thanks for the excellent development of an admittedly difficult start!
Outside there's a godawful smell
In my own personal circle of Hell
I've searched high and low
I reck'n it's the po
But my nose is so clogged I can't tell
I've gathering the wood and the wool
Sounds like a load of old bull
In fact, a young cow
In the here'n'now
Says I'm too high to be cool.
Do nothing, until there's a Plan
Don't plan, until there's a Man
No Man? Get a monkey
Then all will be hunky-
Dory, like Dominic Cummings's scam
I'm really fed right up to here
I'll do something reckless, I fear
I'll put on my socks! [Daring enough for ya, ya pussies? I'm so hardcore I may even put them on the wrong feet.]
Cue-up "Cleveland Rocks!"     The Ian Hunter original
Fu*k it, I'll just have a beer
My socks are marked left and right
This is so I can find them at night
The marks are in Braille
They pong, so exhale
But this cannot be mine - far too tight
I'm back from a very long trip
To Woking's municipal tip
Where I hunted in vain
For Boris's brain
In the vain hope he might get a grip
I feel like an animal theme for a bit. Can we have some animals?

There is much to be said of the Moth

But I'd much rather speak of the Sloth     
Hidden textHi, Jack!
Or a simple wombat
Or a Sumatran Rat
Or the Wampa ice creature from Hoth
I can't see the point of a bunny
They're 'hoppy' and I prefer 'runny'
But hoppy beer's great
So here's Bunny's fate
Stewed in Guinness, with onions, and honey.
The purpose of hedgehogs is clear [Simons] We can have a catalogue of limericks justifying British fauna if you want
They have excellent taste in good beer
They just lap it up
From a saucer or cup
Curl up and just disappear
The haggis, a curious beast
Turns dinner into a feast
with offal and bran
Yourrr auld Scottish gran
Will make it all rise with some yeast
You can see by the cut of his jib
That he clearly will not ad lib
Those "Fnarrs"! and those "Errrs"
"In the script!" he avers
"To say otherwise is a fib"
You can tell by the look in her eye
That the lady is ever so shy
She's sweet and demure
But her mind is manure the light linen duster coat, ta
You would think she was born in a sty.
You could say she was destined to fly
(Even though, manifestly, you lie)
She seems to have wings
And other nice things
But too great a liking for pie (Sigh) It's like the sad tale of Mavis the Fairy all over again.
(Only with pie rather than cake.)

If cake is your bag, just look here
It is gluten-free, have no fear
And there's zero lactose
Sugar free, I 'spose Tricky rhyme, there
And a glass of no-alcohol beer.
My hair grows ever longer
Surely a glow worm?
My hair grows ever longer
But falls out just as fast
I'll beat upon the conga
Until I breathe my last.

(Superman) 'Kinell. It is, isn't it.
My hair seems to grow ever longer
But my body just doesn't get stronger
So, Sampson I'm not
And Delilah is rot
Can it get any wronger?
I like to eat spinach with jam  
Hidden textNot really
Far better than Marmite with spam
Hidden textUrk!
But jellied eel mousse
Hidden textGetting grosser here . . . )
Just makes the bowel loose
Hidden textSo they say
I'm a slave to my guts, that I am.
But I love strawberry jam with my cheese
'Tis a consumation sure to please
But not ev'rybody
is Passamaquoddy
Who eat it while shooting the breeze.
I shot at the breeze and I missed
And the breeze is now royally pissed
"I'll blow your house down"
It said, with a frown
Til I asked it to kindly desist
My arrow is caught in a tree
And my grapeshot has not made it free
My petard is hoist
My powder is moist
And my peashooter - it lacks a pea.
*applause*
That should be exhibited immediately in the showcase game.
The thunder is getting quite near
I'd better finish off my beer
For this heat and this weather
Ruffle many a feather
With a large bolt of lightning, I fear
Hat off. Another winner
Ye Gods! What a bang! That was close!
It made me yell, "Great Caesar's Ghost!"
But try not to fret
It's not over yet
You've still got to butter the toast
The smell of hot crumpet with butter
Will cause a curmudgeon to mutter
"How gruntled I feel!" Resisting the temptation to put "gruntled" at the end of the line.
"This is not quite a meal"
But the prospect still makes my heart flutter
Cream cheese on a bagel is better
Though I much prefer to use feta
While some like ricotta
I think that you oughta
Feed that lot to the nearest red setter (The weirdest dog breed I've ever come across.)
A strange dog, you see, is the Puli
Think Dougal (though not so unruly)
And the magical thing
Is one gets them to sing
By kicking them in the left goolie.
Demonstration event at Crufts
A sudden change in the weather
Can motivate me to wear leather True
Then, astride my Hog
I ride into the fog
Adorned with a large ostrich feather
When it rains down bricks and mortar
There's one thing that you oughta
Never ever do (KagShu) Earthquake, tornado?
Lock yourself in the loo Let's get this moving.
And pointlessly call for a porter
Immunity, so I have heard,
Is a highly politicised word
Especially for Trump
An idiot chump (Rosie) Probably tornadoes in Hurricane Laura
Whose IQ was somehow deferred
If your trombone is blocked up with crud (KagShu) Mmm, nasty. Hope the bits missed you.
The best thing is to fill it with mud
Apply moderate heat
Till the tone becomes sweet
Then clear it all out with a thud
If you like reading adventure novels
Or Dickensian books set in hovels
Then I've got just the thing:
(It's written by Sting)
As for his fans he grovels
Hey! Here's some terrific advice
If your clock is infested with mice
Wait until it strikes one
They'll have no more fun
The tone, their brains will splice
Hidden textH/T Pinky and the Brain
Rosie - was already evacuated for Laura and saw my city basically damaged by it when I first wrote that and n ow Delta has hit my city, too. I was still evacuated, so I'm safe
I've heard there's a brand new vaccine
To protect us from Covid-19 I wish
But there is a small catch
You'll lose all your thatch
And your privates will glow lurid green. oblig.
Eating chicken soup as a cure
Is common in Jewish culture
But the Catholics swear
By the head of a bear
And its testicles just to be sure
I'm determined to start a fresh rhyme
Though a challenging task for a mime
He can't say a thing
Though his limbs he may swing
For to learn ASL takes some time.
As he ran like the wind to the border  
Hidden textNo idea what this is about.
Before Brexit to place his last order
He wished that he had
Stayed in Ahmedabad
With his wife, (where he couldn't afford 'er)
As I sailed in my boat on the briny
My toddlers got seasick and whiny
So I sent them aloft
To work on a croft
They didn't do much; they're too tiny
Do you really think it is OK  
Hidden textAs for the penultimate one, I _still_ don't know what it was about.
To start a new lim'rick this way?
Choose one: YES or NO
And don't vacillate so
For this, dear friends, is the way.
On this day, of all days, it is clear
That your vest is still showing, my dear
I did say “Don’t inflate it!”
But anticipated
Obedience - now should I try fear?
In a dinghy I rowed out one day
To the mouth of the silvery Tay
Then I fell overboard
And cried: "Save me, Lord"
Though he never responds when I pray
YMMV
I'm offering up this kind thought-
If you do what you know that you ought
Then if someone sees
You stuffing golf tees Unfinished thought alert
Surely, you will be caught.
I'd like to say 'well done' to Pfizer Nothing if not topical
If it's true let's all have a spritzer
At -80 degrees Cee      
Hidden texter ... the name is pronounced Pf-EYE-zer, innit?
It's obvious to me
It will be applied by Thagomizer

Mercy killing
A vaccine? Oh my! Is it true?
Should we cheer? Shout Hurrah and Woohoo?
But suppose it's a dud?
And does us no gud invoking poetic licence
There'll be quite a hullabaloo.
Keep that needle away from my arm!
In my bum, though, it works like a charm
I've been waiting for weeks
To whip off me breeks
Though it causes the wife some alarm
Beware - do not try this at home
Especially not on your own
Suppose it explodes
And fuses your nodes Shades of Rambling Syd Rumpo there.
You'll be blown from here half way to Nome.
Nome, and its green green green grass
Is built on cooled volcanic glass
They say that at night
Its emerald light
Looks like oxidized brass
Ring the bells! Sound a gong! Hoist the flag!
Says the front page of my Sunday rag
Well, get The Observer
Which proclaims with great fervor
"How to split up from your lifetime bag."
While shepherds were watching their flocks
Of chickens and geese and some cocks
They whiled away the time
By eating a lime
And chasing off all chicken hawks.
Me ‘n my mates, we’re all kings from back east
We're the Basildon Bad Boys, now mainly deceased
From beyond the grave
We'll still have a rave
with 'Unleashed From The East' - Judas Priest
(real album - honest guv')
While slamming tequila on ice
I blacked out at least once or twice
Hit me 'ead on the floor
Lost a fight with a door
And got dragged off to jail by the Vice.
In praise of the old Pearly Queen
I painted my private parts green
The public bits red
Then I shaved my head
And stripped off so to be seen
I went out with a real little raver
Who moonlighted, days, as a paver
His favourite dance
Had a one in four chance
Of not making him one to savour
The chord that was lost has been found
And has a most beautiful sound
It's a mixture of twang,
And blip-bloop and ktang
Like George Formby falling t'' ground. 'Owja do glo''al stops?
While cleaning windows what did I see?
A gentleman who looked like George Formby!
He was missing his uke,
And he gave me a look That's considerably less revolting than my first idea for the line
And a rather refined cup of tea
Whenever I hear Van the Man
Or I see the Pres with the "tan"
My hackles are raised
And I go off half-crazed
When Her Majesty does the can-can
You know, I miss Morecambe and Wise
As I guzzle a dozen mince pies
Abbott and Costello
And some other fellow
All gone to that Club in the skies
Pine needles all over the floor
A dried-up, dead wreath on the door
The cold light of day dawns
Christmas over, so yawns
Next year we'll be back for some more
Zut alors, wat is 'appening 'ere?
Someone 'as put cheese in my beer
And made it go flat
I shall keel 'eem, zis rat
With my pistole-couteau I 'ave 'ere.
Mein Herr - du hast eaten my pie!
Undt now, English pigdog, you die!
Mein Eisbein ist heilig!
Tough luck - time ist veilig
Even executions go awry

Ahoy! Me hearties! Avast!
Virus protection at last!
Just roll up your sleeve
One jab, and then we've
Hidden textSoftware - nice
Begun sending this plague to the past.
When counting in French, one can say
Un, deux, trois - m'ouveré
Alternatively
Count in Swahili
Hidden textSomeone has to give this a go
Or simply use English/anglais
One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight - splendid idea Dujon!
I count t'let my anger abate
While I'll count in German
Which won't be a sermon
And Europeans I'll try to placate Another Brexshit bonus
So now it's the War of Vaccine
With skirmishes covert and mean
But wait! Who is wrong?
The few or the throng?
The death toll remains to be seen. mercy killing - see what I did there?
Well, I'm free of the COVID is seems
When I finish applying these creams
In covert ceremonies
I'll plaster my knees
In ointment, to cover my screams
In order to seem more appealing
I serve only the finest Darjeeling
In the very best bone china
Made by someone named Dinah
It gives everyone such a nice feeling
[C,R,R,KS,S] Couldn't be more English

In lockdown, I've done some repairs
But it's still rather dodgy upstairs
For instance, the ceiling
Is still only a feeling
And the walls and the floor are "not theres".
While strolling through Lincoln's Inn Fields
I spotted a skip full of shields
That the barristers dump
At the acquittal of Trump oblig.
It's a sign of the power that he wields Moving swiftly on...
We don't have to fear Joseph Biden
Any more than Franz Joseph Haydn
He's as good as his word
When he gives Trump the bird
As into the sunset he's ridin'.
Seems Richard did not have a hump
Nor Jasmine an extra chest bump
You just can’t believe
Each bodily heave
And each clown is in private a glump.
Hidden textWho is this Jasmine the formerly triple-breasted?

While waiting for my second jab
I chanced upon Dominic Raab
I said, "What ho, Dom!"
with my usual aplomb
And asked him to hail me a cab.
Hidden text[Raak], If I RECALL correctly, the name is actually Mary. Seriously, does she have three boobs? (Extra credit if you can tell me the source of my caption) Did my link not work? https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EiylTqSAiaM
(KagShu) A 50% excess is unusual but not unique. Here's Monty Python from about 1969.
The chances of being immune
Are as slim as a snowflake in June
So before you get tested
Don't get arrested
Hidden text[Rosie: fun, but "Seriously, doe sshe have three boobs?" is from Legally Blo>nde: The Musical
That could ruin your whole afternoon
There's no sense in holding it back
Even though you may get the sack
Let them know what you think
That their policies stink Almost oblig.
And they should all be put on the rack. at a stretch
When working a day of CS
Hidden textThat's cee ess, or customer service.
Be sure to use words that impress
Don't snarl "Oh get stuffed!"
When your help is rebuffed
Your frustration you must suppress
The first of the Quarantine Years
Has brought many strong men to tears
They whimper and whine
When they misplace their spine
And mentally strip all their gears
This unmanly blub'rin' must cease!
Or else I shall call the police
Who should have a hanky
Wrapped up in a blankie
And syringes dispensing some peace
If it's boating that you want to do
Then the Suez Canal is for you!
It's level throughout
If you get stuck, just shout
There'll be a delay for a minute or two (or longer, perhaps)
While going through Teddington lock
I received a most terrible shock
I saw Hughie Green's ghost
- He was moored to a post!
Awaiting opportunity's knock.
Crisps all round!
Opportunity knocks but once, so
When it does you must get up and go
And lock that darn door
Behind you, before
You go joining the business of show.
Stop all the clocks for eight days
Stay in bed and just laze
Let oppo's go by
Dynamic? Not I
I'm not one for frenetic displays
Do you think that the time is yet ripe?
For a dog at your feet and a pipe
And a scarf round your neck
And slippers, by heck
I'd say no. It's just ageist tripe.
It seems that this shirt doesn't fit
'Cos I have expanded a bit
Chip butties for tea
Scoffed REG-u-lar-LY
Also mean that my trousers have split
Barkeep! Crisps all round!
I want to try is the cake that's called Jaffa
Does it come from the city called Kaffa?
Or must I search
In the crypt of a church
Or make do with something naffer.
The Oscars are here once again
Most of them go to the men
Though some may appear
To be without peer
I'd rate most as just two out of ten Mercy killing :-/
[Arch] you might like to have a look at this idiot guide for using HTML mark-up for your moves (etiquette prefers only one line per rhyme unless you're brilliant, don't care about etiquette or are providing a long-overdue cull). I've been using this for more than 15 years - it was made my one of the players on here. Very Basic Guide to HTML for playing on Mornington Crescent sites
And I even used it to make this hyperlink too :o)
[muttleee] I think that was a good rescue.
When winning a Darwin Award
A fool of yourself is assured
As you take yourself out
(Inflict your own clout)
Your non-reproduction's ensured.
I think I may be a bee
No, you aren't, honey, b'lieve me
Your yellow-black fuzz
And high-voltage buzz I reckon she's an electricity pylon dusted in slightly scorched custard. That fits all the data so far.
Is just a fault with your HT For those old enough to remember TV with tubes
When voting in local elections
Don't be bribed with tempting confections
'Though if I'd been offered
Cake from Ms. Crawford
I'd refuse on account of infections
It's an incontrovertible fact
That whatever you do you'll get sacked
So plan well in advance
For each circumstance
And hope that you won't get hacked
Eventually I'll get down the pub
And sit down with a pint and some grub
For convivial chatter
And a steaming hot platter
But the cost? Aye, there's the rub....
Stop rubbing my platter, you swine!
And get me a glass full of wine!
I need a drink
Because I'm on the brink
Of becoming seriously anodyne.
Although it was somewhat contrived
I wrote, "Then the dragons arrived."
I shoehorned it in
Wrong game, but no sin
However, I felt quite deprived
Let's start something fresh, I feel keen
And I'm tired of my normal routine
I'm gonna dress up
And drink from the cup
Filled to the brim with Poitín
I've filled up the tank with spud peelings
For the sake of my partner's green feelings
My exhaust smells like chips
On the shortest of trips
So poo to the oil giants' dealings
That's it! I'm off to the pub
To sit down with a pint and some grub
I'll talk to my friends
Of how I got The Bends
A gig at the Bachelors' Club
There's an old Irish saying, you know,
It blithers about yellow snow
But I don't understand
Isn't yellow snow sand?
It's uranium — eat it and glow!
neat
This June day will henceforth be called
"The Day I Began To Go Bald"
For 'tis sad to relate
That the dread chrome-dome state
Cannot any more be forestalled
clapclapclapclapclap
I think I'll invest in a hat
A topper? Or something more flat?
I'd like to convey Lovely metre and wording on the back half of that last one
That I'm no old roué
And have young, modern fashion down pat.
In fact, I was once called a fop
My gaudy cravats were de trop
So much so I became
A pantomime Dame
Emigrated, and now lead the GOP
A joke's a joke but that one is a f****** disgrace. © D Drogba.
I'm camp so I'll dress up in drag
And ponce round the house with a fag
I do this with Pride
But in fact, deep inside,
I desperately wave a white flag.
The daylength has now reached its min / The daylength has now reached its max
Hidden textTraditional solstice limerick, bifurcated to avoid the appalling and blatant hemisphericentricity that too often plagues these servers.
Enlightenment can now begin / And my carpets could do with a vax
O-ò-o-o-òmmm / There's nowt I like more
*deeper voice* O-ò-o-o-òmmm / Than a squeaky clean floor
Now the nights begin drawing in / And my rubbish neatly in sacks
[Software] Did you just restore the hemisphericentrism that (see my hidden comment) I worked so hard to eliminate??
The world seems to be upside-down
Kings are scorned, and their Fools wear the crown
So the knights, they draw in
Losing their will to win [Have to agree with CdM, Softers - not your best work]
No wonder - we're lead by a clown
I've had the most brilliant idea
Will somebody please hold my beer? Oh, one of those brilliant ideas…
'Cos I need both hands
To stem time's running sands Say it fast
Oh, hang on, now it's not very clear
It's about time we all upped our game
'Cause right now it's all so same-same
Has no-one the wit
To mix things up a bit ...choice of sentence finished or not alert...
We don't show our wit - that's a shame.
Please visit my new exhibition!
Of strange megafauna dentition!
We have here a cheetah
Who's quite an odd eater
And uses plants for ignition
I return to find nothing has changed
Even though I had plumbing arranged
One can't find the staff
After an hour and a half
No wonder I'm getting deranged
A diplodocus trampled my lawn
One Tuesday, just before dawn
It won't need a trim
So I'm keeping him
In the shed with my pet unicorn
The good folk of Newton-le-Willows
Have an annual fight with soft pillows
They stand on the hill
And enjoy the thrill
(It's one of their few peccadilloes)
While singing a lewd roundelay
I felt all my cares drift away
I stripped off my hose
Which assaulted my nose
Well that's enough for today
There's nothing as bad as a cold
Except leprosy, grot, and brain mould
And don't forget mumps
Or down in the dumps
Or let's be frank just getting old
We haven't the time for my party?
We're busy being arty and farty
Well, the latter, at least
And our output's increased
As we read aloud from Jean-Paul Sarty
Mercy Killing
I went down to Tesco's today
For reasons I'd better not say
Suffice it to tell
There was quite a pell-mell
Hidden textAll bucks passed to the final line
As Security took me away.
Hidden textCan't be told, can be dodged.

[RtG] I like how you retained the shroud of mystery

And now I must pay for my crimes!

Viewed so heinously in these changed times!
But when ah were a lad
No one thought it bad
Now they do (at least in these climes).
But I ask: "Is it really so bad
To be, like me, such a cad?"
Self-improvement's my creed
I don't spill my seed
Or blame all this nonsense on Dad
I once shared a cell with a felon
Who had tried to violate a melon
He wasn't right in the head
At least that's what they said
I tore him limb from limb, like Ganelon.
There was a young lady from Cheam
Who'd always take one for the team
If carefully sliced Only one? For a whole team? Seems a bit stingy to me. But OFC it depends how big it is.
It became at least twiced
Sextupled if smothered in cream
It's time I went out for a drink
So I can act daft, and not think
About life's lack of meaning
And the cost of dry cleaning
The thing that I found in my sink
The end times are on us, I fear
Beginnings are no longer near
The locusts, the plague
The busts of Earl Haig
And Brexit is costing us dear
I'm thinking of taking a stand
Canute-like, upon the sea strand
On account of a bet
(The debt must be met)
Accompanied by a brass band.
I'm now hooked on this new TV show
It has arrows and flights - and a bow
It's not 'Golden Shot'
Or 'Black Which You Pot'
It's "Up To The Oche You Go"!
Hidden textI I didn't think of "Bullseye" or Jim Bowen during writing this line. No, not once.

[S, C, S, R, B] Perfection.
Why don't we all head for the beach
Where the mermaids they sing, each to each
Their sweet harm-o-nee
Tempting men of the sea
But beware! Stay out of their reach!
I think you all know what I meant
Concerning a recent event
My context was implicit
So next time I visit
I’ll come, and I’ll see, and I’ll went.
So here is the source of the tension:
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.
You can try the FT for £1
Hidden text or so it says on my screen, at least
Don't do it; it's boring, I've found
Instead, pay for X
Before Elon Musk wrecks
And then X is no longer around
On a Thursday, one does Thursday things
Such as fletching a new set of wings
Then learning to fly
When Friday is nigh
For who knows what angst Saturday brings?
My cat catches birds just for fun
Their wings broken, see how they run!
Three blinded winged rats
Are her playthings, and that's
Just a taste - now the real fun's begun
My microwave's gone on the blink
It turns all my food into drink
And my drinks into gloop or sludge if that fits your muse better
Resembling fresh poop
Can someone please unblock my sink?
The best way to unblock your sink
(It turns out) is not what you’d think
Just go to your settings
Set twice a day jettings
And make sure your pipes never kink.
This morning I woke with a start
Remembering you broke my heart
And ruptured my spleen
But at least you were clean
But frankly, not a work of art
An old photo, from when I was young
Shows my uvula, tonsils and tongue
Vibrating in sync
and pleasingly pink
So unlike my old, grey, wrinkled lung.
No wait! I'll explain! Hold your fire!
And please don't call me a liar
I'm an orange-free zone
So go shoot someone known
With the arrow of true love's desire.
I can't wait to tell you the news.
I've found a source of cheap booze
There is one small catch
You must not light a match
If you smoke on the cross-channel cruise
When it's hot I get grumpy real quick
When it's hotter I'm just very sick
Hotter still, I explode
And flee my abode
And get hit in the nuts with a brick.
Nothing can beat Branston Pickle
For a bit of the old slap and tickle
My masseur once said
If you smear on the head
Down you neck it surely will trickle
I can't wait to catch a nice bath
I shall take it on my garden path
If a neighbour comes by
And gawps at my
Wotsits then I'll just laugh
With Wotsits you get quite a whoosh
But afterwards you'll need to douche
For a cleanse internal
Of all horreurs fatales
What are you talking about, mush?
I once had a dream of a parrot.
Cohabiting here in my garret
Then it said, "Nevermore"
So I showed it the door
Then awoke with a weirdly-shaped carrot
A merry young antipodean
Was cheerfully rude and obscene Yeah that rhymes perfectly
As he turned the air blue
The girls’ blushing hue
Lit up the sky. What a queen!
A stubborn old donkey from Deele
Took a ride on a broodmare from Keele
The following Yule allow me...
As kno any fule
He took a ride on a seal.
Well that's put a seal on the matter.
So let's not have any more natter
The decision we've got [Software] re: previous - I expected an answer to the equation 'Donkey + Brood mare = Mule'!
Suits Alice's lot (pen) woulda been a classic :^)
Like the Queen of Hearts and the Mad Hatter
The trouble with limitless time
Is you wait until way past your prime.
But any year now
I'm not sure quite how
I’ll retire after just one last crime.
cont.

To make sure I never get caught

A cunning disguise has been sought
I'm dressed up as YOU!
but you haven't a clue
Much less a relevant thought

The crime has been done in a day
Only fools say that crime does not pay
As this big sack o' swag
'Bout which I brag
Inhibits my quick getaway
Ethelred was never quite ready
He always wanted his teddy
He lost out to Sven
Nine games out of ten
But returned, was succeeded by Eddie
In the space-time continuum’s pauses
I'm going to take that line to the Showcase game. In its place:
In the space-time continuum’s glitches
[CdM] Aw, put it back. I was going to have Effects must not precede causes
Live the monsters and spectres and witches
And don't forget Eddie
[SM] That's more or less why I decided to keep the line for myself. :) I struggled to find the best incarnation but eventually settled on this.
Who liked his beer heady
And left all the Danes needing stitches

A magical dragon called Puff
Decided enough was enuff
He fired all his guns
At those uppity Huns
And flounced off in a fiery hot huff
While passing a black hole one day
My loo paper floated away
With much consternation Unfinished sentence alert
I watched the space station
Wipe its bum. Disgraceful, I say. unfinished business alert
Those stars are astronaut pee
No doubt - just take it from me
And what's more, I know
The northern light show
Is a bloke with a torch - tee-hee!
When my head hits the pillow, I sleep.
And when I cut onions, I weep
But when I play chess
I feel more or less
Like a nerd. (I'm a bit of a creep).
When Alpha Go met with Deep Mind
They squabbled. Two of a kind
The point of contention
—The Stayman Convention
Hidden textYes, poor form to post two lines, but I’m taken with the idea of the best chess and go machines arguing about bridge
Meant both in short order resigned
My Hide and Seek-playing AI
MI5 want to use as a spy
For they had expected
To snoop undetected
At bodies that come through the rye
[trad] A young lady from Burnham on Sea
Had to stop the bus for a wee
By the time she was done
We were all making fun
Was the bus number 1, 2 or...3?
When you notice that things won't work out
Don't worry; just give it a clout works with steam engines
If that don't do it
(Can you make it, "If that doesn't do it"? Ta)
Well, then you can screw it
And shove right back up the spout
A young fellow from Burnham on Crouch In the interest of gender equality
Was a big fan of Oscar the Grouch
Whose non-binary stance
Gave a one-legged dance
To that beanpole Peter Crouch. Ouch!
I have just one thing to declare
My genius — you may laugh — I don't care!
Cos you won’t laugh when
Trump is POTUS again
And leaves the world in despair
The world just got darker, I fear
It shall darken yet more, year by year.
The sun will go out
The last Trump will shout
No more voting - I'm here!
Perhaps one fine day I will learn
A way to do a great gurn
I shall bite my own nose
While reciting some prose
As I tell the jury to adjourn.
This curly old wig's a right pain
I need a new straight one, that's plain
Slap-head, that's me
But you have to agree
That it covers my cranial stain
For the antepenultimate time,
I seek postinceptory rhyme
A preposterous demand
Which I cannot stand
Will I soon have to do this in mime?
My mum can't remember things now.
Sadly, she's lost her know-how
She's now ninety-eight
Thinks that she's Johnny Speight
So shouts silly old moo to my cow
I've a craving for pickle with Spam
With some be-boppa-lu-a-whop-bam
But McDonald's has stuck it
In the janitor's bucket
So bring on Le Filet O'Lamb
If you're stuck on the M25
Give thanks that at least you’re alive
Four lanes of pollution
(There's an electric solution)
With no guarantee you'll arrive.
Eight more months, then a chance to be free
From the curse of the Witch of Tiree
This anticipation
Has gripped our proud nation
Except for one guy in Dundee
When death, plague, and war rule the land
We’ll take stock, take up arms, take a stand
And then take the piss
Something like this
By forming a naff one-man band
You cannot go on like this, mate
You’ve got far too much on your plate
Inadequate crockery
Will spoil your fine frockery
That's one way to ruin a date.
Please look after your own mental health!
Or madness will grab you with stealth
Try a dip in the sea
Or a Sudoku spree
You'll feel much better after a twelfth
And now, for the worst of the snows
And the shiniest ruddy red nose
As you home, with the gifts
Sourced from dumpsters and thrifts
The swizzle-stick’s mine, I suppose?
Blue Monday approaches apace
T'will match the hue of my face
And other parts too
Shall I show them to you?
I will do so with exquisite grace.
In Port Talbot, on Fridays, 'tis said
You can shag or avoid or get wed
'Cos down on the dock
In an old toilet block
Is where the priest rests his head.
A young lady from Kingston-on-Hull trad
Dressed up as a boatman from Mull
Gave lifts 'cross the river
For which men would give 'er
The fare. (This limerick’s dull.)
The rain it falleth in torrents
It's even raining in Florence
Away with these clouds!
And off with these shrouds!
Let's put on a ball — who's for correntes?
While waiting my turn at the bar
In the back of my gas-guzzling car
I came up with a plan
for attracting a man
arrow_circle_down
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