Limericks III - Grab Bag
Being a peace activist, I once wrote a limerick in an attempt to stop needless wars:
Of Tetley’s and V-2's
(or "Why Not to Bomb the Brits")
by Michael R. Burch
The English are very hospitable,
but tea-less, alas, they grow pitiable ...
or pitiless, rather,
and quite in a lather!
O bother, they're more than formidable.
I have even written a double limerick about writing limericks:
The Better Man
by Michael R. Burch
Dear Ed: I don’t understand why
you will publish this other guy—
when I’m brilliant, devoted,
one hell of a poet!
Yet you publish Anonymous. Fie!
Fie! A pox on your head if you favor
this poet who’s dubious, unsavor
y, inconsistent in texts,
no address (I checked!):
since he’s plagiarized Unknown, I’ll wager!
I have written one of the few, if not the only, antinatalist limericks:
The Heimlich Limerick
by Michael R. Burch
for T. M.
The sanest of poets once wrote:
"Friend, why be a sheep or a goat?
Why follow the leader
or be a blind *******?"
But almost no one took note.
I have tried to clear up obvious misconceptions about our feathered friends by other limerick writers:
The Pelican't
by Michael R. Burch
Enough with this pitiful pelican!
He’s awkward and stinks! Sense his smellican!
His beak's far too big,
so he eats like a pig,
and his breath reeks of fish, I can tellican!
At times I have distilled longer poems down to the approximate size of a limerick:
*******
by Michael R. Burch
You came to me as rain breaks on the desert
when every flower springs to life at once,
but joy is an illusion to the expert:
the Bedouin has learned how not to want.
I have even tried to reform our political system with limericks, without success:
15 Seconds
by Michael R. Burch
Our president’s *** life―atrocious!
His "briefings"―bizarre hocus-pocus!
Politics―a shell game.
My brief moment of fame?
It flashed by before Oprah could notice!
Rallying the Dupes
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"
after Anaïs Vionet
Houston, we have a problem:
the virus is multiplying;
meanwhile, our Demander-in-Chief
keeps lying, lying, lying.
Houston, we have a problem:
the Astros are now the Nau(gh)ts,
but Tweety will still pack the ’Dome
untroubled by actual thoughts.
Originally published by LIGHT
While most limericks are humorous, the form can been adapted for more serious purposes. Here's a poem of mine that can be shared with anyone it might help . . .
Self Reflection
by Michael R. Burch
for anyone struggling with self-image
She has a comely form
and a smile that brightens her dorm . . .
but she’s grossly unthin
when seen from within;
soon a griefstricken campus will mourn.
Yet she’d never once criticize
a friend for the size of her thighs.
Do unto others—
sisters and brothers?
Yes, but also ourselves, likewise.
This limerick more or less sums up my approach to writing limericks:
Grave Thoughts
by Michael R. Burch
as a poet i’m rather subVerse-ive;
as a writer i much prefer Curse-ive.
and why not be brave
on my way to the grave
since i doubt that i’ll end up reHearse-ive?
NOTE: “Subversive,” “cursive” and “rehearse-ive” are double entendres: subversive/below verse, cursive/curse, rehearsed/recited and re-hearsed (reincarnated to end up in a hearse again).
The Bachelor Spectacular
One heart? Tossed aside.
The other? A bride’s.
In all his great wisdom, the bachelor decides.
Eeenie, mean-ie, mine-y, mo’,
one gal must stay and one must go.
If she hollers? That’s the show!
No heart can handle such despair!
But hearts get broken, hearts repair.
Next season? The treasoned will rule the air.
Originally published by Light
Low-T Hell
by Michael R. Burch
I’m living in low-T hell ...
My get-up has gone: Oh swell!
I need to write checks
if I want to have ***,
and my love life depends on a gel!
Ribbing Adam
by Michael R. Burch
“Dear Lord,” fretted Adam, depressed,
“did that **** really rupture my chest?”
“Yes she did,” piped his Maker,
“but of course you can’t take her,
or I’d fry you in hell, for ******!”
There once was a poet from Nashville
which hockey fans rechristened Smashville,
but his odd limericks
pulled so many weird tricks
it’s lately been called Ogden Gnashville.
—Michael R. Burch
There once was a poet from Tennessee
who was known to indulge in straight Hennessey
for his heart had been broken
and cruelly ripped open
by an icy-hearted Lady of Paree.
—Michael R. Burch
There once was a girl with small *****
who would only go out with young rubes,
but their c-cks were too small
so she sentenced them all
to kissing her fallopian tubes.
—Michael R. Burch
A coquettish young lady of France
longed to have men in her pants,
but in lieu of real joys
she settled for boys,
then berated her lack of romance.
—Michael R. Burch
A virginal young lady of France
longed to have c-cks in her pants
but in lieu of real boys
she settled for toys
& painted pinkies to make her bits dance.
—Michael R. Burch
The Vampire's Spa Day Dream
by Michael R. Burch
O, to swim in vats of blood!
I wish I could, I wish I could!
O, 'twould be
so heavenly
to swim in lovely vats of blood!
The poem above was inspired by a Josh Parkinson depiction of Elizabeth Bathory swimming up to her nostrils in the blood of her victims, with their skulls floating in the background.
Light verse and nonsense verse …
Less Heroic Couplets: Mini-Ode to Stamina
by Michael R. Burch
When you’ve given so much
that I can’t bear your touch,
then from a safe distance
let me admire your persistence.
The Trouble with Elephants: a Word to the Wise
by Michael R. Burch
An elephant never forgets
which is why they don’t make the best pets:
Jumbo may well out-live you,
but he’ll never forgive you
so you may as well save your regrets!
The Beat Goes On (and On and On and On ...)
by Michael R. Burch
Bored stiff by his board-stiff attempts
at “meter,” I crossly concluded
I’d use each iamb
in lieu of a lamb,
bedtimes when I’m under-quaaluded.
Trump’s real goals are obvious
and yet millions of Americans remain oblivious.
—Michael R. Burch
Cover Girl
by Michael R. Burch
Cunning
at sunning
and dunning,
the stunning
young woman’s in the running
to be found **** on the cover
of some patronizing lover.
In this case the cover is a bed cover, where the enterprising young mistress is about to be covered herself.
First Base Freeze
by Michael R. Burch
I find your love unappealing
(no, make that appalling)
because you prefer kissing
then stalling.
Paradoxical Ode to Antinatalism
by Michael R. Burch
A stay on love
would end death’s hateful sway,
someday.
A stay on love
would thus BE love,
I say.
Be true to love
and thus end death’s
fell sway!
Less Heroic Couplets: Funding Fundamentals
by Michael R. Burch
"I found out that I was a Christian for revenue only and I could not bear the thought of that, it was so ignoble." — Mark Twain
Making sense from nonsense is quite sensible! Suppose
you’re running low on moolah, need some cash to paint your toes ...
Just invent a new religion; claim it saves lost souls from hell;
have the converts write you checks; take major debit cards as well;
take MasterCard and Visa and good-as-gold Amex;
hell, lend and charge them interest, whether payday loan or flex.
Thus out of perfect nonsense, glittery ores of this great mine,
you’ll earn an easy living and your toes will truly shine!
Less Heroic Couplets: Crop Duster
by Michael R. Burch
We are dust and to dust we must return ...
but why, then, life’s pointless sojourn?
Less Heroic Couplets: Shady Sadie
by Michael R. Burch
A randy young dandy named Sadie
loves ***, but her horse neighs “She’s shady!”
The couplet above is based on the limerick below:
Shady Sadie
by Michael R. Burch
A randy young dandy named Sadie
loves ***, but in forms fancied shady.
(I cannot, of course,
involve her poor horse,
but it’s safe to infer she’s no lady!)
Less Heroic Couplets: Just Desserts
by Michael R. Burch
“The West Antarctic ice sheet
might not need a huge nudge
to budge.”
And if it does budge,
denialist fudge
may force us to trudge
neck-deep in sludge!
The first stanza is a quote by paleoclimatologist Jeremy Shakun in Science magazine.
The Limerick as Parody
Marvell-Less (I)
by Michael R. Burch
Mr. Marvell was ill-named? Inform us!
Alas, his crude writings deform us:
for when trying to bed
chaste virgins, he led
off with his iron ***** ginormous!
Marvell-Less (II)
by Michael R. Burch
Andrew Marvell was far less than Marvellous;
indeed, he was cold, bold, unchivalrous:
for when trying to bed
chased/chaste virgins, he led
off with his iron ***** ginormous!
When reading the second version of the poem, the reader can select “chased” or “chaste” or read them together, quickly.
I Learned Too Late
by Michael R. Burch
“Show, don’t tell!”
I learned too late that poetry has rules,
although they may be rules for greater fools.
In any case, by dodging rules and schools,
I avoided useless duels.
I learned too late that sentiment is bad—
that Blake and Keats and Plath had all been had.
In any case, by following my heart,
I learned to walk apart.
I learned too late that “telling” is a crime.
Did Shakespeare know? Is Milton doing time?
In any case, by telling, I admit:
I think such rules are ****.
Limericks
There was a young lady of France
Who’d let cute boys root in her pants:
Where they'd give her the finger
And she'd let them linger
because that's the point of romance!
—Michael R. Burch
A germane young German, a dame
with a quite unpronounceable name,
gave me a kiss;
I lectured her, "Miss,
we haven't been intro'd, for shame!"
—Michael R. Burch
A germane young German, a dame
with a quite unpronounceable name,
Frenched me a kiss;
I admonished her, "Miss,
you’ve left me twice tongue-tied, for shame!"
—Michael R. Burch
A germane young German, a dame
with a quite unpronounceable name,
French-kissed me and left my lips lame.
I lectured her, "Miss,
That's a premature kiss!
We haven't been intro'd, for shame!"
—Michael R. Burch
Although I prefer
onions
to bunions,
I still primarily defer
to legal ******.
—Michael R. Burch
Cancun Cruz
by Michael R. Burch
There once was a senator, Cruz,
whose whole life was one pus-oozing schmooze.
When Trump called his wife ugly,
Cruz brown-nosed him smugly,
then went on a sweet Cancún cruise!
Anchors Aweigh!
by Michael R. Burch
There once was an anchor babe, Cruz,
whose deployment was Castro’s bold ruse.
Now the revenge of Fidel
has worked out quite well
as Cruz missiles launch from his caboose!
Canadian Cruz
by Michael R. Burch
There was a Canadian, Cruz,
an anchor babe with a bold ruse:
he’d take Texas first
and then do his worst
to infect the whole world with his views.
Trump Limericks aka Slimericks
The Nazis now think things’re grand.
The KKK’s hirin’ a band.
Putin’s computin’
Less Ukrainian shootin’.
They’re hootin’ ’cause Trump’s win is planned.
—Michael R. Burch
Trump comes with a few grotesque catches:
He likes to ***** unoffered snatches;
He loves to ICE kids;
His brain’s on the skids;
And then there’s the coups the fiend hatches.
—Michael R. Burch
Trump’s Saddest Tweet to Date
by Michael R. Burch
I’ve gotten all out of kilter.
My erstwhile yuge tool is a wilter!
I now sleep in bed.
Few hairs on my head.
Inhibitions? I now have no filter!
the best of all possible whirls, for MAGA
by Michael R. Burch
ive made a mistake or two.
okay, maybe quite more than a few:
mistakes by the millions,
the billions and zillions,
but remember: ur LORD made u!
where were u when HEE passed out brains?
or did u politely abstain?
u call GAUD “infallible”
when HEE made u so gullible
u cant come inside when Trump reigns.
Scratch-n-Sniff
by Michael R. Burch
The world’s first antinatalist limerick?
Life comes with a terrible catch:
It’s like starting a fire with a match.
Though the flames may delight
In the dark of the night,
In the end what remains from the scratch?
Time Out!
by Michael R. Burch
Time is at war with my body!
am i Time’s most diligent hobby?
for there’s never Time out
from my low-t and gout
and my once-brilliant mind has grown stodgy!
Waiting Game
by Michael R. Burch
Nothing much to live for,
yet no good reason to die:
life became
a waiting game...
Rain from a clear blue sky.
*******' Ripples
by Michael R. Burch
Men are scared of *******:
that’s why they can’t be seen.
For if they were,
we’d go to war
as in the days of Troy, I ween.
Devil’s Wheel
by Michael R. Burch
A billion men saw your pink ******.
What will the pard say to you, Sundays?
Yes, your ******* were cute,
but the shocked Devil, mute,
now worries about reckless fundies.
A ***** Goes ****
by Michael R. Burch
She wore near-invisible *******
and, my, she looked good in her scanties!
But the real nudists claimed
she was “over-framed.”
Now she’s bare-assed and shocking her aunties!
MVP!
by Michael R. Burch
Will Ohtani hit 65 homers,
win the Cy Young by striking out Gomers,
make it cute and okay
to write KKK
while inspiring rhyme-challenged poemers?
Will Ohtani hit 65homers,
win the Cy Young by striking out Gomers,
prove the nemesis
of white supremacists
while inspiring rhyme-challenged poemers?
Will Ohtani hit 65 homers,
win the Cy Young by striking out Gomers,
cause supremacists
to cease and desist
while inspiring rhyme-challenged poemers?
Keywords/Tags: limerick, nonsense, verse, light, humorous, war, writing, poetry, poets, serious, limericks, humor, light poetry, light verse, nonsense verse, *****, salacious, ribald, risque, naughty, ****, spicy, adult, nature, politics, religion, science, relationships
