[CdM] Hidden textOn reflection, I don't think I've ever seen a book of great works reduced to a Limerick abstract. Might I venture Limeriture, Limarature , Limericture or Literick as a working title?
[Phil, pen] Well, the best example I know is by Wendy Cope.Hidden textQuite what Wendy Cope is doing on a Best American Poetry< site is a mystery to me On the other hand, she required five limericks for a single work, so we are clearly five times as good.
Also, I should note that while Phil, I and particularly Raak have been the most prolific on this theme, Kim supplied a nice entry as well, and there might be others I am forgetting.
On a topical note: We all know that roses are red, And violets are blue, it is said. But this lovesick old rogue Thinks like Kylie Minogue And I can't get you out of my head
Reposting from MCiOS's "HULK NEGOTIATE!": What a wonderful verse form is this! Sonneteers can all go take a piss! Short, merry, and sweet And as fast as bird's tweet With my lady it surely can't miss!
My wife is a Lady, I think, Cause her knickers are narrow, and pink On the rim there is lace, On the bottoms a trace, Of the finest of beaver and mink.
On the ides of March Caesar was slain "Et tu, Brute!" he cried out in vain But Mark Antony knew How the public to woo The conspirators died for their gain.
Here's one I wrote on the Google game at MCiOS, in response to "beer limericks". On the thirty-first day of December I drank seventeen pints of Knee-Trembler(I had to -- any less wouldn't scan) I then climbed a tree And took a long pee That was certainly one to remember!
Off the top of my head, as a month has passed: When I hear Lenny Henry (that crooner) Say a word like "safari", I'd sooner, That a language so maimed By a Brummie, be named "Dudley Bantu" by Reverend Spooner.
A salty old sailor once said If I never had sex I’d be dead Cause I’ve sailed seven seas, And I’ve ate all my peas, And I'm really quite horny when fed.
One from the last pilg, which is a little mucky, but definitely stuck in my mind: Traversing the Cam in a punt I performed an incredible stunt I spun round the pole Did an eskimo roll While pleasuring Jeremy Hunt
The question of whether to live Resolves all my thoughts like a sieve If this too solid flesh Were dissolved in a mess There would be no goddammit to give.
As I went out one Saturday night I'm embarrassed to tell you my plight But my belt buckle broke And I mooned a poor bloke So he screamed and then ran out of sight