There once was a beehive of bees
That hung in a haven of trees:
   Busy with ease,
   They'd buzz up a breeze,
And life was, for them, the bee's knees.

#

James Jun 13

Billy Thatcher the meat packer
lost his job 'cuz he was a slacker
now he's a stripper
can't find a tipper
Because of his little tally-whacker

Or

When I was just a little nipper
I dreamed of being a stripper
I started my dance
tugged at my pants
got my pecker caught in my zipper

Couldn't remember if I've posted these or not.
Damian Murphy Mar 23

There once was a presumptuous poet
Who thought his poems were the best ever wrote,
He was quite prolific,
Thought he was terrific,
But he never wrote anything of note!

ConnectHook Jan 17

Those radical change-agents Femen
set the men-folk to hawin' and hemin'.
When the girls bared their best
all the boys were impressed.
(Keep abreast of the movement, you womyn).

inspired by the radical Euro-feminist group
ConnectHook Jan 11

BREAKING LIMERICKS BREAKING LIMERICKS BREAK

STOP the PRESSES while we pop the strésses !
EXtry, EXtry, read all about it:
Fake news pays dues to sing rural blues in red-state hues.
Nanny-state networks choose to accuse & civil fury ensues!
See special edition on CIA sedition :

          The rural red states stand accused
           By the quingdom whose queen they refused
            it's so hillbilly-larious
             all of them various
              voters now left unamused.

FAKE NEWS: it's the virus du jour
of the affluent liberals. The poor
are more prone to believe
it's a plot to deceive
and no government offers a cure.

ConnectHook Nov 2016

An oppressive and bearded dictator
has expired, and we sing "see ya later".
The intransigent pride
on the Communist side
makes Miami Cubanos' joy greater.

♥ ⛧ ☭  ⚧ ♥ ✿ ⚢⛧★ ⚥ ♥
good riddance to bad Marxism
ConnectHook Nov 2016

You readers, who visit these pages
are a fan-base that rarely engages.
So until you hit like,
you can all take a hike;
for I'm paid in poetical wages.

Don't even bother.
Kendra Mack Jul 2016

There once was a fish in the sea
Who couldn’t decide what to be
They said, “You’re a fish!”
She said, “Oh you wish!
But that’s much too simple for me.”

Aaron LA Lux Jul 2016

Was boxed in,
so I had to make a way out,
a way out with words,
I don't like being boxed in,
so box me in I'll knock you out,
way out with words,
in nights on a day out,
boxed in so I wrote a way out,
wrote a way out with words,

road way out on roads,
stayed paid out in shows,
had hate gave love,
took the thorns with the rose…

The H Trilogy
Volume 1
7/7/16

Brent Kincaid May 2016

While sleeping in my bed
Rhymes escape my head.
I maunder them around
Then write them down
And publish them instead.

That is, those worth keeping
That I write while sleeping
That often turn out to be
Happily approved by me.
A poetic parrot peeping.

An internal rhyming thing.
Almost an eternal ping
That runs through my brain
There to sometimes remain
And bubble back upon rising.

Sometimes it wakes me up
And I brew myself a quick cup
Because at that time
In search of a rhyme
That goes with boxer pup or buttercup.

I haven’t made a dime from this
My middle-of-the-night muse’s kiss.
I just gleefully scribble
And sometimes I giggle
No matter it’s a hit or a miss.

Far be it from me to complain.
For so many poems remain
That turn out terrific
That I’m labelled prolific.
Either that, or poetically insane.

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