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Limerick Showcase
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A chance for players to showcase whole limericks for amusement & edification. Standard winning move for the purposes of euthanasia.
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A hoary old campaign designer
Who never thought anything finer
Than mud-slinging crusades
Has done it in spades:
A Trumpedo has sunk the Cruz liner
They won't rub their hands now in glee
Both Democrat and GOP
For on Hallowe'en
They must choose between
The Devil and the deep blue C
For an hour and a half, at a loss,
I lingered in Three Mile Cross
I consumed more than one
In a pub called The Swan
But I'll soon be back home to the boss.
An old one, but a favorite
There once was a Scot from Loch Fyne
Who married three wives at a time.
When asked, "Why the third?"
He replied, "One's absurd,
And bigamy, sir, is a crime!"
One from ISIHAC, with Tim Brooke-Taylor having to field the last line :)
I once saw a crime that was heinous
The first act of Coriolanus!
Some mischievous joker
Picked up a large poker
Which really did not entertain us!
This was from Orange MC about 15 years ago, written by Thos, blamelewis, Simons Mith, Drewsxpa, and myself. It might be the best single limerick line I ever wrote (he says, modestly)

Greetings to you, one and all
Welcome to the Cheesemongers Ball!
We've plenty of crackers
Supplied by our backers
The Tedbiscuits, with their son Saul
And here's another from that golden age (by me, pen, Raak, Néa, and Thos), featuring a candidate for Thos's best line ever.

I like that my women be strong
Said Tarzan, who wore a sarong
If they can't climb a creeper
I'm not gonna keep 'er
My life is vine, women and thong
The Ig Nobel prizes are also summarised in Limerick form. Among many I liked this one:
It repeats every word that you say,
But after a tiny delay.
A more irksome machine
Has never been seen.
It's SpeechJammer. Buy one today!
[SM] Thanks for the note. The Ig Nobel limerick standard is appallingly high. I wonder who does them?
I once wished my daughter had listened
To advice, but instead her eyes glistened
With adult desire.
Now her boyfriend's a sire,
And on Sunday my grandson gets christened
Our Boris is back in the saddle
While Gove's up shit creek with no paddle
And so come what May
At the reckoning day
They will meet their fates in the Eubattle.
A mathematical one I got from years back, no idea where from:

6,129,872,700,011.97425683

Six trillion one hundred and twenty
Nine billion eight hundred and seventy
Two million and seven
Hundred thousand eleven
Point nine seven four two five six eight three
Who wrote this one?
In the Highlands when new moon is full
Little lassies will give a hand pull
After while they will suck
And if you are in luck
You may mount them in kilts made of wool.
Bism, that's from Martin Gardner.
Stop me if you've heard this one
I bought the new iPhone today,
Which shortly filled me with dismay
For its sister, the "Six",
Does all the same tricks,
But with headphones that you won't mislay.
[Marc] You wrote it here, Marc. I see that it's down to your usual standard. Do you think you will ever be able to make a post on this server that is not smutty or misogynistic or lewd?
[Pen] You are probably right and I will never be able to reach your supreme level. It is a pity though that you don't post more than once a year or so... This is yours from 2012 by the way:
On the chest of a barmaid from Sale
Were tattooed all the prices of ale
And on her behind
For the sake of the blind
Was the same information in braille.
So that was my forty-ninth summer
And winter draws on, what a bummer!
With each passing week
A new joint will creak
And my toes will get number and number.
From the limericks on this site, a collaborative effort by [penelope], myself, [Pablo], [Rosie] and [Stevie] in line order. (I modded my line a bit to improve the scansion.)

There was a young man out of Rhyl
Whose gigantic restaurant bhyl
Came from scoffing ten courses.
He thereby endorses
Credit card use at the thyl.
But now you've ruined the Welshness by taking out the distinctive double L, you Phyllistine!
I have a heart of Fflint... and don't call me Phyllis!
[Marc] - That barmaid limerick is older than me; my dad fished it out when I was a teen as an example from his youth (though the scansion here was busted by the unnecessary addition of "all" in the second line). The Highland one is an ugly thing, the putative author having chopped the indefinite article twice to make it scan, rendering it into something other than English. Filthy is OK, but such works have to fit the scheme without turning into furbish, surely? Otherwise we have a Stuffed Owl.
[Stevie]I have never claimed to be the author of the Highland one. If I remember correctly it was sent to me years ago from a friend with his roots in Dundee, Scotland. Nevertheless it gave you the opportunity to show off as the smartass I think you are. The only reason that I wanted to remind Pen of her contribution The barmaid was that some might think it is also misogynistic in one way or another. However here is another old one for your critique:
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.
[Mark] If you read again with your eyes open you'll see that at no point did I attribute "the highland one" to you. I just said, rightly, that it had been turned into near gibberish by eschewing the needs of the language it was written in in order to make its "joke". This is one of the criteria laid out for bad poetry in The Stuffed Owl; an anthology of bad verse. In point of fact I didn't think the idea was strong enough to warrant the energy needed to write it, but I never blamed you for it.
I did out penelope as not the author of "tattooed barmaid", with the same comment I made the last time it surfaced in the wild.
Buttinski here

Us humans are all just the same
Always too ready to flame
When it comes out
That it's us that you doubt;
And then it's no longer a game.

Written by me, full disclosure/responsibility/etc.
I found myself burdened with cash
So I gave BDSM a bash
Now my body's a mess
I've got eighty quid less
Just like any old night on the lash.

Who is this Pep Guardiola
Is he fielder, batsman or bowler?
He can speak Catalans
And write in Gill Sans
And will not touch Coca-Cola.
"It could be the starter-ring gear"
Screamed the young AA man in my ear
"Either way I'll just go
And give you a tow
Off this M1 on-ramp*, never fear!"

* - Newport Pagnel Service Area, Northbound, 1984
"I've checked, and you've no magic wand
So I don't think that you will abscond
Since you're fastened down tight
Under my laser light
I expect you to die, Mr Bond!"
"How on earth did you ever get free?
Never mind, makes no difference to me.
Fort Knox is your tomb
You're about to go "boom"
Mr Bond as you clearly can see"
"Damn and blast, you escaped once again!
This is getting too much. What a pain.
Please throw Mr Bond
In that bottomless pond
Wrapped in twenty five feet of steel chain!"
Double post. How strange. Removed.
"Impossible! Free again! You!
Dripping wet, Mr Bond, it is true
But otherwise no
Ill effects are on show
I assume it's the work of old 'Q'!"
"No more "watch" Mr Bond, no more "keys"
I'll take both your "shoes" if you please
And your "belt". And your "Hat".
And your oiled "cricket bat"
Time to die. We are done with strip tease."
"And now into the chamber you go
Where two quarts of nitro will blow
As the cyanide gas,
Whirling blades and ground glass
Make an end to you Bond, don't you know?"
"Hahaha! There Bond lies burned and torn
No escapes. No more jokes old and worn.
Wait? What's this I see
On his singed laund-ery?
It's a tag. And it reads 'Jason Bourne'!"
"I'm off 'fore this "Bourne" chap comes round
For he's not dead, just stunned I'll be bound
And when he finds out
Who did this, I've no doubt
My Germanic bonce he will pound."
[Stevie] Congrats, and do have a cup of tea. I think you've earned it :-)
Take "The", [proper name] and a filler
For the title of your Ludlum thriller.
Then on to the plot
Which is mostly rot
With a secret, three spies, and a killer.
The chuck key was here, in the drill
But the chuck's gone AWOL from the quill!
Events now play Hob
With my "ten minute job"
Wasting time, adding cost, sapping will
The election's past, over, and gone,
Spoils now go to those hangers-on
Who, Jan 20, in pomp,
Will jump in the swamp,
Where the biggest hippo is Don!
Don said, "It's quite easy, you see:
My team must just resemble me:
White, male, and can shoot,
Or has lots of loot,
And lacking a college degree."

Did I read clearly that the Pres-to-be has put a munchkin in a top role?

Jingle bells, jingle bells all the way
Oh what fun! That's what people will say
Wearing red Christmas slacks
With my shotgun and axe
In my festive one-horse Christmas slay
While I rode on the LIRR
I recalled that there once was a bar
As part of the train
Where we'd reduce the pain
Of commuting while smoking (low tar)
While I rode on the LIRR
An announcement was heard, "Goodly DL"
"Would there happen to be
"The occasional Stevie
"As passenger, or part of the PL?"

Terribly contrived, but happy new year anyway

"Goodly DL"? Can't figure that out. Sorry.
Prof Stanley Unwin mate - "Goodly daylode", a general greeting.
Ah. A bit obscure for anyone not of my age I'd think. I plugged that in as my final answer but couldn't figure the etymology for the life of me.
Three cheers for Mahendra Singh Dhoni
A professional, sir, not a phoney
When batting at cricket
Or keeping the wicket
It's quite clear that he stood alone-y.
Hip hip, hooray! (thrice)
From MCIOS, a couple of days ago, with yours truly, Projoy, Software, Stevie and Chalky providing the lines:

The "Dark Lady", for whom this is written,
Is the one with whom I've become smitten.
Her sensuous manner
With torque wrench and spanner
Transformed my once shy to twice bitten.
Just presenting Alternative facts on an Alternative meter with some Alternative rhymes on an Alternative language
Mister Putin is truly an arse
And fat Donald is playing a farce
Mrs. Theresa May
Like Frau Merkel’s okay
Only Barack and Hill’ry are stars!
Just parlaying my good cheer. (belated Greetings for this new year, Marc.)
Though the Bourgeois was played like a chump
Knowing the game was rigged in the swamp
When the ante got raised
On he soldiered, unfazed
He called ... and game's won with the Trump.
Hi George, best wishes to you as well!
The crack of doom swallows this world
But life to the galaxy's hurled
By the might of our powers
The stars shall be ours
So the crack of doom may have this world.
Always liked the Ogden Nash 4-liner

On Seduction

Candy
Is dandy
But liquor
Is quicker.

There once was a virgin who said,
"My hymen is safe 'til I'm wed"
Though one night in my Chevy
When breathing got heavy
She lost it, my back seat turned red...
Seduction, an old hobby of mine, and another reason for Pen to file complaints?
Global warming makes sea levels rise
As we pump CO2 to the skies;
Yet fossil fools will
At the top of their Hill
Still claim it's all a pack of lies.
The day when Washington's drowned under water
The politicos may say "We oughta
"Have prevented this day!"
But I think they'll say
"It's just a problem for those that are shorter."
The day DC drowns under water would scan better and remove the geographic ambiguity.
On tour in the far Kalahari
My guide gave a glass of Campari
I felt warm – really hot
Was undressed in one shot
Now I think he’s on pussy safari
There once was a Kshatriya prince
Who was given three reasons to wince:
Sickness, death, and old age,
But he then met a sage
On the Way, which he taught ever since.
While addressing Conservative toffs
Mrs May was afflicted with coughs
With the aid of an actor
It seems Boris sacked her
To a mixture of cheers and "**** off"s.
There once was a girl from Decatur
Who thrashed as a crocodile ate her.
While MC'rs on the dock
Argued. 'That is no crock.
It's just a big ALLIGATOR.'
Of Man's First Disobedience I'll write
And how from Eden's gate they took flight
Blood, toil, tears, and sweat
Would be all that they'd get
Till a new Adam set things aright.
Fürst Hermann von Pückler-Muskau
Came to England in search of a frau
He delighted the salons
But his mercenary talons
Brought him only a scandalous row.
Long, long ago, in days of old
A Limerick got chaste by a Knight so bold
Neck to neck with him in speed
She failed, to outrun his steed
T'is why, in nine months time, the Limerick foaled
Long long ago in days of yore
Limericks were virginal and pure
Then elites took them to bed
...... and chivalry being dead
They'll not blush if you call them whore
The Olympics are on in Korea
Where all countries unite like Pangaea
With victories notching,
While I'm busy watching
The Head of Alfredo Garcia
Today it is Saint Patrick's Day
So later today we will sway
And drink Irish Whiskey
Although it is risky
We daringly drink anyway!
Not a limerick, but a piece of found poetry from earlier this week (late April) that slotted into a memory of another poem from a long time ago.
Little Boy kneels at the foot of the bed,
Droops on the little hands little gold head.
Hush! Hush! Whisper who dares!
The Mablethorpe Webcam is Awaiting Repairs.

The AA Milne original is here.


Let the horizontal rule

A backward limerick borrowed from James Hogg
A backward young fellow from Chester
Didn't know what to do,
But then met someone who
Adored it when fellows undressed her,
A forward young lady from Leicester.
There once was a man with no penis Whose ejaculate was intravenous When he'd built up enough Of all that white stuff, So much for his underwear's cleanness!
[penelope] The version of that I first came across was:
Little boy sits at the foot of the bed
Absently stroking a golden haired head
Oh my, what could be worse?
Christopher Robin's been f*cking his nurse
Recently on Ye Twitteres, there was a meme flying around stating "Describe the plot of your favorite movie in a limerick; don't use the title." So...
I'm Henry, a king like no other
Plagued with sons who'd mutu'lly smother
    Each one, with bare hands
    Until one alone stands
But you know what's worse? THEIR MOTHER!

I've just heard an unlikely claim
That Johnson is changing his name
He'll no longer be "Boris"
But be known as "Maurice"
And spout loads of crap just the same
It's the last Test for Alistair Cook
Who can now go and write a large book
About caring for sheep
With a square leg that's deep
And a Gray-Nicolls bat for a crook.
Let's go on a jaunt down to Florida!
We'll drive the I-95 corridor
And in this big van
Go as far as we can
Till the neighbours find out that we borrowed 'er.
Rosie, Raak, Software, Pablo, and CdM provided this on this site. Having just read an article on FOMMOG - Fear Of Meeting My Own Goals, which could form a new game - I felt this summed the subject up better than the article.

My mother said 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.


The life of a Scotsman in Liskey
Can – literally – be pretty risky,
'cause once in a bar
When rolling an ‘r’
The chap found an ‘e’ in his whisky.
In my mind's eye, I see this great wall
And behind it we'll have such a ball.
It's manned by bald eagles -
Keeps us free of illegals -
I'll be re-elected next fall!

Building walls is a question of will
Which the Dems that are now on the Hill
Have never possessed:
But mine is the best,
And the Chicos are footing the bill!
A good friend of mine told me how
The Sixties were better than now:
When, with no sense of guilt,
His boss had a wall built
Round Berlin, by soldiers, from Moscow.
And this one I heard in the Army
There was an old man of the Isles
Who had measles, consumption and piles
On top of all these,
Yes - venereal disease
You could smell the old bugger for miles.
Found this anonymus pearl at the side of a statue of Winston Churchill:
There was a young man from Dundee
who said: "They can't do without me.
No house is complete,
without me and my seat.
My initials are W.C."
(Must be an alternativa Winston...?)
There's a chap from the Mull of Kintyre
Who does dubious things with barbed wire
I could tell you a tale
That would make you go pale
But you'd probably call me a liar.
[Marc] I believe Winston lost the seat of Oldham early in his career, and got 'parachuted' in to represent Dundee as a way of returning to the Commons.
(checks) Sorry, not Oldham, Machester North West.
[Marc, Projoy] I thought that ditty was witty in the combining the Dundee MP with household conveniences. Well, it made me laugh anyway. ;)
Where I hoped an opener on MCIOS might go...
If you like, I'll put in a word
That you'd like to play Richard the Third
On the Lyttleton stage
Despite your old age
Though there's bugger all chance you'll be heard

So Theresa has gone off to Brussels
For a feed of hot chips and steamed mussels
To seek a new deal
At a Head-of-State meal
Getting nowhere, for all that she hustles
The place of her wedding is set
At the cost of penurious debt
I don't see the need
Of why I have to feed
80 relatives that I've never met
A                      whose                      and clucked
Was                      when he                      and                     
                     with his                     
And                      was in                     
The                     , he said I am                     .
[penelope] The version I know is:
"Fu**! Sh**!" listen who swears.
Christopher Robin has fallen downstairs.
On first looking into GPT-2's Homer:

It sounds like the real thing, for sure
But will its works really endure?
Or does its success
Mean that we must confess
That "real" poetry's just as obscure?

(Reusing old stuff is not a sin)
I'm writing this verse 'coz I'm bored
using time that I cannot afford
so much else I should do
such as sit on the loo
and flush when I once find the cord
I'm bored, and it's getting to me
I've been all that I want to be;
Done my bucket list;
Still, I have, when I'm pissed
A much better class of ennui.
The difference between Johnson and Hunt
Is that Boris is awfully blunt
And will say things, I bet,
That he'll later regret,
And the other's a bit of a lookalike for Kenneth Williams when he looks sideways, don't you think?
Chalky and CdM started this off in t'other game, which inspired me to try and finish it better than was managed there. It may not have succeeded...
I hail from the island of Crete
Where minotaurs roam in the street
Whom Theseus fights
On Saturday nights
An attraction that's quite hard to beat.
Bravo!
An inventor of games, Erno Rubik
Made his name with a toy that was cubic
He said its creation,
Was rife with frustration
He tore out his hair, all of it

A dying mosquito exclaimed:
"A chemist has poisoned my brain!"
The cause of his sorrow
was para-dichloro
-diphenyl-trichlorethylane.
Pen mentioned Tennyson... who can do better?
There's Tennyson's Charge of the Light
Brigade, that remembers a fight
Twixt the Russkies and us;
But he makes such a fuss
Of a half a league cavalry flight.
[Bismarck] Phil can. :)
[CdM] Phil certainly could! I am not at all sure I can reach that level of scholarship.
I want Michel Barnier's job
For the pay, and the chance to play hob
With ces perfides Anglais,
And to say sans regret
"Oh Boris, won't you shut your gob?"
[CdM] I'll stick to the light-humoured topical stuff. More my line.
I haven't got anywhere else to put this:
Gordon Ramsay came to town
Riding on a pony
He put some lentils in his soup
And called it minestrone
When I was young and in my prime
I'd a wit as sharp as a silver dime
Nae more, as one can gauge
- I have improved with age
With half a brain I've writ this rhyme
My Dad told me this one:
There was a young lady from Stornaway
Who had her virginity torn away
She said "Never mind
I've had a good grind
And taken that young fellow's horn away"

They say there's 12 N on a C
Yet there's 24 H in a D
And 12 S in the Z
But my C's way ahead
Her 9 Ls are just bothering me.
I used to hate those puzzles. No point in trying when they're like this, it doesn't scan!
There once was a king in Great Britain
Who would treat every wife like a kitten
He kissed and embraced ’em
Then killed and replaced ‘em
By such love, may we never be bitten!
[Biz] 12 Numbers on a Clock
24 Hours in a Day
12 Signs in the Zodiac
Not sure what 9 L in/on a C would be . . .
[KS] as follows:
 It seems that my cat has nine lives
And he's certainly had a few wives
He's a bit of a rake
And makes no mistake
When deciding 'tween catnip and chives.
I understand now what it means
As you've explained as it's seen
A C is for cat
And L means that
The lives of the cat are ten minus nineteen.

An actor of highest profession
with expressive facial expression
missed the prompt, couldn’t hear
(he was deaf in one ear)
said : “To pee, or not pee, is the question.”
Based on what might have happened:
The Nobel Committee confided
That the Peace prize this year was divided
'Tween one who stopped a war
And one who started four
Do you think that that was misguided?
Inspired by a limerick started by Pablo and Superman:
Now hearken ye all, MC types,
Ye must cease to use Pampers wet wipes!
For Jacob Rees-Mogg
Says they clog up his bog:
"Obstruit stercorem O stipes!"
Inspired by a limerick in progress at MCiOS:
Is a Jaffa Cake really a cake?
The tax man claimed it was a biscuit
The case went to court
Which conclusively judged
That whatever it is, it's exempt.
From VAT.

There's a change in my life which is drastic
My new girlfriend is simply fantastic
She's a feast for the eyes
And to my surprise
I really don't mind that she's plastic.

(My coast is on and I've left the room)
(I've returned, sheepishly)

Some say I'm a bit of a loner
My girlfriend complains I don't phone 'er
I just peck when I kiss
And the reason is this
I'm buggered if I'll catch Corona

(Ok, the coat's back on)
Earl Dumbarton and Lady Kilkeel
Have jointly announced that they feel
So overwhelmed
As peers of the realm
They'll retire, till time all does heal.
One from MCIOS recently, courtesy of Stevie, blamelewis, Projoy, CdM and CdM:
Supplies are now running quite low:
I'm right out of whisky and blow,
And patience, and sorts
And the box with my thoughts;
And my head, depth, luck, it and the know.
Not a limerick, but I want to put this somewhere:

A glose upon the theme
"After waking up in a morgue, an orphaned teen discovers she now possesses superpowers as the chosen Halo-Bearer for a secret sect of demon-hunting nuns"
lately discovered to the writer by Netflix.
A secret sect of demon-hunting nuns
Is all that stands 'gainst ruin of the world
An orphaned teenage girl unwilling hurled
Must fight with holy water, cross, and guns.

A world called into being by this spell:
"A secret sect of demon-hunting nuns"
About this grit the writers' mucus runs,
And hardens to a pearl they're sure will sell.

A name: the Halo-Bearer! Superpowers!
She wakes up in a morgue, shorn free of ties
No parents block the plot; her soul must rise
Take up her quest to throw down evil towers.

So long as bits shall flow and draw the clicks
So long lives this, and all thanks to Netflix.
There once was a man from Nantucket
Who dreamed he was eating a bucket.
When he awoke it had seemed
He had done what he'd dreamed
And then he began to upchuck it.
Hidden textAnd they said it couldn't be done . . .

When it rains and you must not get wet
There are three things you cannot forget
Your oilskin coat,
Your portable moat,
And your trusty forecast from the Met.

You can stand on ceremony
Or on principle, people tell me
But I think it's best
To do like the rest
And stand on the floor, sensibly
To travel to Mars is just spiffing
Or Venus, Or Merc'ry. They're ripping
But stay clear of the moon
Or your find out that soon
Your traveller's luck will start slipping
While strolling a golf course one night
Two randy teens I gave a fright
Their attempt at a snog
Was now rendered "dog"
Because when I've had a skinful of rum I get lost and my route home can become somewhat eccentric on account of me not feeling all that bright.
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