no limericks today
none of my dads amusings no rhyme no tale no sing no complaining no dancing no pole vaulting no dashing yards blues yes harmonica wailing and the banjo picking me apart no poems necessary got it all got it none got it in my brain cause soul n’ heart all longtime surrendered the wind whips my t-shirt and what was beneath it gone never know what piece of me blew away but for sure it was not a ditty something cute for the blues chased away all the limericks and there’s are just an all gone
There once was a man who liked to eat grunion
he ate them with ketchup and onion he ate them for lunch he ate a whole bunch he ate so many they gave him a bunion There was a lady who liked to eat cheese but when she ate it she started to sneeze she'd sneeze and she'd cough till her hat would fall off and she developed a terrible wheeze There was a young girl who ate cantaloupe while she rode on the back of an antelope she rode along fine and continued to dine till her antelope tripping, slid down a ***** There was a boy who liked mango when he ate it he did the fandango he'd throw out the peels then with a click of his heels he would dance a beautiful tango There was a lady who loved carrots but so did her large group of ferrets if her ferrets were there she had to give them a scare to keep them away from her carrots There once was a man who liked to eat soup but when he did it made his ears droop it was hard to recoup with ears covered with goop but he just couldn't give up his soup There was a young lad who liked waffles Though they made him feel really awful he ate them with butter then he would sputter and develop a terrible cough-ful There was a man who loved to eat stew but when he ate it his face would turn blue it was truly a ghastly hue he looked like he had the flu as if he was sick through and through There once was a lady who liked custard she ate it with pickles and mustard a strange combo, she'll grant since she's not even pregnant when she was asked she'd always get flustered
Total silliness! Feeling playful lately.
One World Limerick The notion of nations united gets the global progressives excited. Their party of Babel is ******’s own rabble (we’re left with the Right uninvited). Values Clarification Limerick Many worldlings (whose ways we bemoan) hope their lives we’ll approve and condone. But we couldn’t care less for the views they profess; we just wish they would leave us alone Roman Limerick Our antichrist leaders (so Fabian) are more Nero, and less like Octavian. So with Caesars and salad I’ll dress up my ballad. (The future’s plebeian or Flavian.) Kente Pajamas Limerick A racist obtuse Afro-whiner Tried to give the right-wing a black shiner While applauding Obama He railed at my mama His manners could be a lot finer . . . Apocalyptic Limerick The riddles of John’s Revelation imply a large-scale devastation. The end is not too clear but looks rather nuclear: a well-deserved A–bomb-in-nation. Freethinking Limerick An atheist, weary of fables Found his intellect turning the tables. He declared: As a nihilist held to a higher list, I’m for erasing the labels. Mendacious Limerick Fake propaganda as news only fools those it’s meant to confuse there is wrong, there is right when you’re left in the light of a nation with little to lose.
Um . . . men and women
are the ONLY two genders. Deal with my Haiku! PS: anyone else having trouble with italics & bold recently? They're not working for me
Career politicians, who cluck
as they strut with an impotent pluck make me sick with the season befouling all reason: they're less of a **** than a cuck. That gobbler and turkey-neck Mitch makes me furious—so mad that I twitch. He obstructs every battle while jiggling his wattle; unpardoned, unworthy (but rich). The patrician political class is a party that speaks through its ***. They are lacking in guts with no ifs, ands, or buts but I swear: they produce enough gas. HAPPY THANXGIVING, Fellow Poets☺
And best wishes to all the Revisionists.
Dig in: http://tinyurl.com/y9868oqm
Of the myriad films about mummies
that send chills to the pit of our tummies, the original’s best. You can keep all the rest; their appeal is to modern-day dummies.
Boris Karloff in 1932 original ROCKS !
I've seen rabbits that do it, in France
I've seen birds that do it, in dance But nohow and nowhere Have I seen it there Her party that happens, sans pants I've seen dogs attempting on legs Seen chickens hatching some eggs But will it be true When she uncovers you Sans pants with a smile that begs I can only wish and contemplate and hope that such, will be my fate her demeanor, may well melt removing first, my belt I really, really think, not only swell, but great To you sir I truly confess In my mind she's already undressed A shot and a beer Then a simple affair I sure hope she's mighty impressed I prefer, using subtle finesse helping her, out of her dress a greater reveal the opening seal creating an *******, mess
Sextuplets and Couplets
The new ruse: presidential psychosis an impartial and swift diagnosis as you trump-up the charge but the sign is writ large: twenty-twenty TRUMP/PENCE the prognosis. Corrupt psychiatric inspection serves to further a facile detection: presidential unfitness. (But God is our witness; you're mad 'cause you lost the election.) As you slander the president's sanity you exhibit your own inhumanity. I would urge all you losers and lying accusers to listen to Savage and Hannity**. In your desperate drive to impeach you would grasp what is out of your reach. The infernal machine steered by crazy Maxine makes a nasty mechanical screech. The Democrat narrative flounders while our nation's own hateful confounders promote red revolution mob-rule as solution insulting the faith of the Founders. Though the state-sponsored media lie, our beleaguered republic must try to transcend inhumanity; quell the insanity. (Both wings are needed to fly.)
Light-hearted limericks for happy campers in the United **** States of Amerikkka ☺
Of RINOS, I'm not such a fan, sir...
and I offer no delicate answer. The rhinoceros-brain of that war-hawk McCain tries to coo like a dove—but it can't, sir
Time to retire the "glue-horse".
To **** with RINOS and traitors
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. #
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!