you can’t right the same poem twice

hell, yes I can
in pointy fact,
only got one,
which gets re-righted
morning noon and evening-tide

substitute a variant spelling
wright vs write vs right
and the meaning changes thrice

the only thing i can’t not duplicate is those **** love poems
each unique and writ for the woman specific,
each love one, custom jiggered,
each poem, crafted, to her pulse
each poem, drafted, to her scent
none alike, and that’s why I believe
in the god who commanded "create her"
to make love poems in his way,
gave me millions of veins, an extra ribbing,
of inspiration to pray to...
my heart altered, modified, daily

**** poems
**** love poems
**** love

The **** kids gaol



Once upon a time there was this kid named Brian Mandler who was 14 years

Of age and was sort of obsessed with figuring out a way to catch and reform

Really dangerous criminals.   When he explained how he’ll do it to his family,

They told him that they don’t want to hear it and they all leave the room and

Brian went to his room and got onto his computer and started to track

Down some dangerous criminals and as well as that he will watch Australia’s

Most wanted and unsolved mysteries to make sure he is up to date with the

Goings on and when he catches them he will give them a pill which puts

Them to sleep and it makes them dream that they are on TV and Brian

Can watch it to keep him informed on their goings on.

When he saw the first criminal who was named David Perton Brown who

Was a real evil child snatcher who loves to pray on vonerable kids who

Haven’t got good lives as well as robbing them  and leaving them to die

and then he’ll do about 180 on the freeway trying to **** families

On their way to their holiday destination and quite often he succeeded but

This time Brian got onto his computer and said that he wants to get David

And put him on a early morning childrens show called the Saturday Morning

Cartoon hour where he’ll meet people left, right and centre and most of those

People will be children and he’ll have guests who will give him heaps for the

Crimes that he did and also he’ll have a visit from the police every 4 Saturdays

To really check up on him but he had to make the kids unaware by posing to

Make sure that kid’s say no to drugs and lifts with strangers and that meant

That the host could try something outside.

As well as that Brian put him on a nightly music show because some of his

Victims are now teenagers who like music and Brian made him the sort of

Host that will constantly goof up a lot.  The program was called The Talent

Quest and he’ll be teamed up with 2 police officers who are making sure there

Is no funny stuff going on.

Brian planned to keep him in his little gaol for a long time till he starts to settle

Down a bit.

The next criminal is Joshua Tartwright who is a vicious modern day pirate who

Takes adults over 40 and holds them captive in his little boat and he has been

Doing this for about 12 years and Brian got onto his computer and told it

That he wants Joshua to on the pirates of the Carribean TV series and keep him there till he realises that he is no match for those pirates

And he doesn’t feel like kidnapping them anymore but this was hard to get him

To take the drug and Brian had to get to rough police officers to hold him down

And then force feed him till he his knocked completely out and then his life as

A television star started.   Joshua was excited about being on a pirate show and

He wanted to email all his friends but he was stuck in another world and also

He was the one the pirates wouldn’t leave alone and he felt weird and wanted

The drug to wear off but we all know that when it wears off it’s dinner time.

As he started the pirate show it was hard for him to be his own man because he

Was kidnapped straight away it was hard for him to understand what this

Dream meant and was trying to tell Brian that he wants his blood.

Brian jumped on the computer and said how about we keep him captive there

For 2 hours and then it would be dinner time and h’ll enjoy that.

Meanwhile Brian wasn’t scared one little bit and watched the television to

Catch another criminal and it was Mark Dellar who tried to make John the

Baptist (the religious fellow) look evil by coming into the Christian church and

Preaching that John the Baptist was evil and every thing that he did

John the Baptist was telling him to do it and the Christians were very

Upset and screamed so loudly as Mark stole money from everyone in

There and Brian got onto his computer and said that he wants to put

Mark in his gaol and make him a religious guru to be put onto Television

At 5 am every weekday morning as well as listen to good people’s

Prayer requests and he must help them as well.   The first request was a

Man who is terminally ill and there is no way he will get out of it and

This man yelled at him in the prayer request that he sent and Mark

Tried to tell him that he has nothing to worry about because God

Is on your side and Brian got onto his computer and made the walls

Cave in and knocked Mark out and the man just ran away saying

We won the first battle and Mark woke up and he had a cup of coffee

And a biscuit waiting for him and he was relieved but there were more

Strange cases in his dream and Brian is there to reform him.

Brian thought it was a good job he gave him as a Television preacher helping people get better than making people feel Worse which what he was doing..

Brian watched more of Australia’s most wanted and saw a group of

Violent and dangerous armed robbers who were knocking over 7

Eleven stores and rich people’s houses as well as stopping the

Families from going out and having fun and Brian had his little

Plan to get them in his little gaol.     He wanted to play them at their

Own game by pretending he was a rich powerful man because

He had more dangerous things than any robber like his booster

Shot in which Brian wanted then to be cops in televisions cop

Drama ‘cop department” in which they deal with dangerous criminals

Like them each day and Brian thought that they will reform if they

Knew the kind of trauma they were putting their victims through and Brian

Keeps them there forever if they don’t reform even if it eventually kills

Them so the crooks can’t escape because Brian is too powerful for

Any of them.

Brian sat their laughing at the armed robbers playing cops and at

One moment they were locked in a security vault which had a

Bomb in it which is set to explode in 20 minutes and Brian went

On the computer and said let the bomb go off and then they will

Be put back in their beds and we will have lunch for them before

We torture them some more and then Brian sat down and said

What a job well done but there are still heaps of dangerous criminals

He needs to catch yet

Brian turned on America’s most wanted and there was the Texan ******

Who preys upon women in their 20s by luring them into his panel van

And keeping them ******* in his back shed till they are killed and Brian

Said that he wants to catch the Texan ****** and start him on stint on

General hospital where he will play a young woman who is the target

Of a never ending ****.

The police took the drug off Brian and went straight to the Texan rapists

House to give him the drug and at first he wondered why he needed to

Take these drugs because he wasn’t mental he said and there is nothing

Wrong with him and he refused to take them and tried to escape and

Then Brian got onto his computer to make him too slow to get away and

Brian was happy to get him onto General hospital and make the old ladies

Very happy.

When he first fell asleep there was a ****** at the end of his bed and wanted

To get within his sheets and really let him have it and the Texan ****** was

Screaming so loud stuff like” Let me go I’m a man not a woman but this

****** just heard the innocent lady scream and there was no way that he

Was to escape and Brian was laughing like crazy at the Texan rapists bad ordeal

And went onto the computer and said I want him to be attacked every day

To understand what it was like for his victims and they started to employ

People to play the rapists straight away and Brian was happy to see that this

Plan of his is working very well.

Brian was the envy of all his friends but noone apart from his best friend

Thomas knew about it because of the closeness of their friendship,

Brian’s secret was safe with him.

Brian and Thomas went to the park to have a drink under the tree

Together and talked about their lives and Brian isn’t aloud to talk about

His gaol life just in case anyone was around and at the moment noone

Could suspect anything.

After Brian had a break he watched more of Australia’s most wanted and

Saw there was a man wanted for bank fraud who is on the run in Brisbane

And Brian wanted to track him down and give him the drug that puts

Him in his little gaol where Brian will put him on as victim of fraud who

Was on Brian’s fake edition of 60 minutes until he realises that what

He did is wrong and that he will never do it again and when the police

Arrived at his house to give him Brian’s magical reforming drug he put

Up a fight and started to flee away on foot down the street that he lives

In with some police following him and others contacting Brian to use his

Powers to make him slower and catch him and give the drug to him and

Put the fraud man who doesn’t tell people his name into his little gaol and

When they did Brian was so happy of all the crooks he caught without

A worry in the world , Brian watched the episode of 60 minutes and

Really enjoyed him suffering because of all the people he made suffer

He needs a taste of his own medicine.

They asked him what is it like to be a victim of fraud and do you think you will

Ever see that kind of money again and he told them that he wants the money he

Stole so he could go to the Bahamas and cruise around looking for chicks and

Brian went straight to the computer and said keep ribbing him because it’s fun to

Make this guy suffer because what he did was terrible so rib something fierce.

Brian watched this music show and He was happy that the young people who were at the music festival were

Really letting him have it and this really entertained Brian a lot and

Then he switched it over to the Talent quest where our criminal was being

Told he was talentless and was upset with the whole outcome of it all, he

Threatened to jump off the top building and be dead forever and Brian

Went onto the computer and said that there is no way that he will die if he

Jumps off the roof to the ground, in fact he will just wake up and a guard will

Be there to keep an eye on him and now he was aware of the fact that noone

Could escape from Brian’s little gaol.

The Saturday morning cartoon show went very well with the child snatcher

Being teased by 2 11 year old girls and one 7 year old boy  and he nearly lost it and Brian was so happy that they were teasing him.  Then he told the kids that

He will **** them all and Brian went onto the computer and said don’t try any

Funny stuff because there is no escape for you now fella,and then he put

one of the cartoons which was our modern day pirate who was being tortured by Blackbeard and Brian was happy because this man needed to know why he is

in this little gaol of Brian’s, and then he went onto his computer and said to

Blackbeard too never let him get free because what he was doing to these

Adults was a very bad thing and then he went back to his chair and laughed at

Blackbeard the pirate torturing this modern day pirate like a lamb to the

Slaughter.

Blackbeard also made to walk the plank and Threatened to cut his head off

Agreed that it could be fun to see him suffer.   Like what it was like for him

In the end of his life and the pirate said “please don’t **** me please don’t ****

Me I am a modern pirate and in days to come pirates have a lot of vegeance

Than in these times” and Brian went to the computer and told them to

Chop his head off once and then keep trying to do it so he could suffer

And that would be heaps of fun Brian thought.

Brian turned it over to general hospital where his Texan ****** was screaming

In the back boot of a car and noone could hear him except for Brian who was

Watching him and he got up and wrote on the computer “He wants them to

Feed his body to the sharks at 11.59 am so he could be ready for lunch.

He switched the TV over to the cop show where our armed robbers thought they are in the perfect job because there were no crimes around so they just sat down

And relaxed and Brian wasn’t happy and went to this computer and told

Everybody to put on a few situations to make them really suffer like they

Did to the police on Earth and then suddenly there was a call on the 000

Saying there was a mother and her 13 year old son locked in their panic

Room while the robbers were having a field day robbing the place

and the cops went straight there only to find out that this was their first

test, because when the reached them the crooks turned on them and

left the mother and 13 year old son in the panic room and Brian went

to his computer and said I want these so-called policeman to try to save the

mother and son instead of trying to **** the police and if they don’t they will

flunk the test.  So one of the policemen went into the house and tried to

save the mother and son while the other two were having a gunfight and the

policeman who was in the house saving the victims couldn’t get the door

opened and screamed for his mates to help him but they were too busy

having a gunfight in the front lawn with the neighbours scared for each others

safety, and Brian went to his computer and said give these ****** gunfighters

a wake up pill because they don’t seem to realise what is really important

here and that is saving the victims and not killing the cops like cowboys

and Indians you ****** fools.

While all the caught prisoners eating their meals Brian watched Australia’s most

Wanted to try to catch some more crooks and they told him about the

Charnwood child snatcher who lived in “as the name suggests” Charnwood

And he took street kids off the streets and he would tell them that he has the

Perfect home for them and as a matter of fact he would tie the kids up

And when they die of starvation or dehydration he would take them out

To the cow paddock and let the cows pick at them and When Brian heard

The details he got straight up to his computer and said that he wants to

Put the Charnwood child snatcher on a new show called Sugary who is

A very witty and smart seal who is befriended by this 8 year old boy who

Is the Charnwood child snatcher because Brian wanted to teach him

Not to destroy the family’s lives, like he did when he kidnapped their

Children from them.

Brian sat down and watched the first episode and they had this evil

Genous who wanted to take the seal and sell him for seal meat and

The boy was so determined to stop this crook he would stay out and

Guard Sugary all night and hours and hours went by and noone turned

Up and the boy was determined not to leave because Sugary was his

Favourite pet.

When the crooks got there the boy jumped up and said” If you want

Sugary you have to take me as well” and the men said “Whatever”

And shoved the kid in a bag with the attempt the **** him and then

**** Sugary soon after and Brian got up to his computer, don’t let them

Be killed, just keep him ******* till the end when the parents come to save

Them and make sure that sugary is safe as well.

Then Brian sat down and saw The father rescue the boy and Sugary from

This evil genious and the evil genious said I will get you next time boy

Next time heh heh heh and then you won’t escape from that.

The Charnwood child snatcher woke up and found himself locked in a room

And he looked outside and a lady has a cup of coffee for him and he took

The coffee and thanked the lady and sat down until it was time to take his

Reforming pill.

Brian was happy because the Charnwood child snatcher was forced to learn

The perfect family bond between parents and children.

About 5 hours later than that Brian sat down and watched the 6 o clock news

And they informed everybody with Christmas approaching there was man

Who escaped from prison who is a good santa claus impersonator and every

Christmas he would go to Santa School and pass the test and then he’ll be

Assigned to working in one of the shopping malls and that doesn’t sound

Like such a crime and Brian was thinking this is a happy story until he heard

The next bit where he will get the kids to put their name and address so he

Knows where to go on Christmas eve and then he studies when the kids

Will be alone in the house and comes to their homes

It’s bad enough I’m just known as
that squiggly piece of the alphabet
but what’s worse are the jokes of
Why the long face Kevin?
Those are the times when I wish
I could give as good as I get
it's not as bad as facing the guys
with bloated stomach and ***
and have the amoebas ribbing me
incessantly
****** single celled creatures
They have an idea, but they can’t guess
Poseidon take you Janet!
for leaving me in such a mess!
You take all of me without leaving
just a single ounce of pleasure
and I’m left birthing
your demon spawn
You were just a mistress Seahorse
in disguise weren’t you?
I’m no longer an oddity
now I’m something less
*Seahorse blues
a male in distress

My auspicious and audacious assault augments the annoyance of aged accomplices.

My bodacious broadside of boffolas berates and buffaloes bros beneficently.

A classy crusade Clownishly chiseling and criticizing childishness.

A devilish ******* of dillydallying dullards; devoutly denying dimwits the dulcet dream of defiance.

Excessive, exuberant edification, ebulliently eliminating education-evictees.

A fair-weather frolic in flippancy with furious fools floundering in flawed foppishness.

Gregariously grating glum guys gleefully, growing grander garnishes of gripping gallantry gaily.

Heckling hooligans highlights my heavenly humor.

Irreverently irking irritable, iniquitous idiots in inestimably infuriating and incredible instances.

A jolly, jocular **** joking with jerks.

A kreiger kicking kleptomaniacs in the karyotype. (Cut me some slack, this is 'k', after all.)

A ludicrous, laughing lambaste of lollygagging lunatics, loftily loosing luscious lunacy on lucky losers.

A magnificent masterpiece of malfeasance, a monstrous, malevolent mission of massive misfortune for the minor minors missing no malicious missive.

A noxious, narcissistic niggling of nitwits, niftily nixing the noisome naivete of niggardly nobs.

An offhand, off-color outburst of outlandish observations to outclass the obnoxious overtures of obsequious offal.

A pragmatic prediction of possible platitudes or platypi, a placid parley of pyrotechnic pleasantries provoking Pyrrhic protections by prurient prats.

A quixotic quibble quarreling with a queer quarry.

Ribald ribbing, ruining the robust reality of the repreachful, repugnant, and rapacious with risque ridiculousness.

A silly, slighting slander of sluglike slavishness, succinctly sinking sloppy simpletons sourly.

Tracing the titillating talent of towing tyranny to towering terrors to tactless, togless, terrapins of the times.

This page contains several double limericks, a rare triple limerick, and a new version of the double dactyl that I invented, called the "dabble dactyl."



The Platypus: a Double Limerick
by Michael R. Burch

The platypus, myopic,
is ungainly, not ******.
His feet for bed
are over-webbed,
and what of his proboscis?

The platypus, though, is eager
although his means are meager.
His sight is poor;
perhaps he’ll score
with a passing duck or ******.



The Better Man: a Double Limerick
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!



Hell to Pay: a Double Limerick
by Michael R. Burch

A messiah named Jesus, returning
from heaven, found his home planet burning
& with children unfed,
so he ventured: “Instead
of war, why not consider cheek-turning?”

Indignant right-wingers retorted:
“Sir, your pacifist views are distorted!
Just pull the plug quickly
on someone who’s sickly!
Our pursuit of war can’t be aborted!”



These poems form a double limerick:

No Bull
by Michael R. Burch

There once was a multi-pierced Bull,
who found playing hoops far too dull,
so he dated Madonna
but observed, “I don’t wanna
get married . . . the things she might pull!”

So this fast-thinking forward named Rodman
then said to his best man—“No problem!
When I marry Electra,
if the ring costs extra,
just yank a gold hoop off my ****, man!”



I once provided the second stanza to a famous limerick, turning it into a double limerick …

A wonderful bird is the pelican;
His beak can hold more than his belican.
He can hold in his beak
Enough food for a week,
Though I’m ****** if I know how the helican!

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!
—second stanza by Michael R. Burch


The next two poems form a double limerick with separate titles:

Time Out!
by Michael R. Burch

Hawking’s "Brief History of Time"
is such a relief! How sublime
that time, in reverse,
may un-write this verse
and un-spend my last thin dime!

Time Back In!
by Michael R. Burch

Hawking, who makes my head spin,
says time may flow backward. I grin,
imagining the surprise
in my mother's eyes
when I head for the womb once again!



This is another double limerick with separate titles:

Toupée or Not Toupée, That is the Question
by Michael R. Burch

There once was a brash billionaire
who couldn't afford decent hair.
Vexed voters agreed:
"We're a nation in need!"
But toupée the price, do we dare?

Toupée or Not Toupée, This is the Answer
by Michael R. Burch

Oh crap, we elected Trump prez!
Now he's Simon: we must do what he sez!
For if anyone thinks
And says his "plan" stinks,
He'll wig out 'neath that weird orange fez!



Not all double limericks are light affairs:

Self Reflection: a Double Limerick
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.



Triple Limerick: Attention Span Gap
by Michael R. Burch

What if a poet, Shakespeare,
were still living to tweet to us here?
He couldn't write sonnets,
just couplets, doggonit,
and we wouldn't have Hamlet or Lear!

Yes, a sonnet may end in a couplet,
which we moderns can write in a doublet,
in a flash, like a tweet.
Does that make it complete?
Should a poem be reduced to a stublet?

Bring back that Grand Era when men
had attention spans long as their pens,
or rather the quills
of the monsieurs and fils
who gave us the Dress, not its hem!



Officious Notice: I have invented a ***** nonsense form: the "dabble dactyl." A dabble dactyl starts out like a double dactyl, but forgets the rules and changes horses midstream. Anyone who prefers order to chaos should give the dabble dactyl a wide berth and also not sow any wild oats.  Otherwise, “A little dabble’ll do ya.” — Michael R. Burch



Double Dactyls
by Michael R. Burch

Sniggledy-Wriggledy
Jesus Christ’s enterprise
leaves me in awe of
the rich men he loathed!

But why should a Sadducee
settle for trifles?
His disciples now rip off
the Lord they betrothed.



Donald Dabble Dactyl #1
by Michael R. Burch

Higgledy-Piggledy
Ronald McDonald
cursed Donald Trump, his
least favorite clown:

"Why should I try to be
funny as Donald? He
gets all the laughs,
claiming upside is down!"



Donald Dabble Dactyl #2
by Michael R. Burch

Wond’ringly, blund’ringly
Ronald McDonald
asked, “Who the hell
is this strange orange clown?”

“Why should I try to be
funny as Donald? He
gets all the laughs,
claiming upside is down!”



Donald Dabble Dactyl #3
by Michael R. Burch

Piggledy-Wiggledy
45th president,
or erstwhile manse resident,
perched on a throne

of gold-plated porcelain
matching his orange “tan,”
bombing Iran
from his twittery phone?



This famous limerick inspired my Einstein “relative” limericks:

There was a young lady named Bright
who traveled much faster than light.
She set out one day
in a relative way,
and came back the previous night.

I recently learned this poem was originally penned, in a slightly different version, by Arthur Henry Reginald Buller; his limerick appeared in Punch (Dec. 19, 1923). I find it intriguing that one of the best revelations of the weirdness and zaniness of relativity can be found in a limerick. I was inspired to pen multiple rejoinders:

The Cosmological Constant
by Michael R. Burch

Einstein, the frizzy-haired,
said E equals MC squared.
Thus all mass decreases
as activity ceases?
Not my mass, my *** declared!


***-tronomical
by Michael R. Burch

Relativity, the theorists’ creed,
says mass increases with speed.
My (m)*** grows when I sit it.
Mr. Einstein, get with it;
equate its deflation, I plead!


Relative Theory I
by Michael R. Burch

Einstein’s theory, incredibly silly,
says a relative grows, *****-nilly,
at speeds close to light.
Well, his relatives might,
but mine grow their (m)***** more stilly!


Relative Theory II
by Michael R. Burch

Einstein’s peculiar theory
excludes all my relatives, clearly,
since my relatives’ *****
increase their prone masses
while approaching light speed—not nearly!


Relative Theory III
by Michael R. Burch

Relativity, we’re led to believe,
proves masses increase with great speed.
But it seems my huge family
must be an anomaly;
since their (m)***** increase, gone to seed!



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.


These are limericks of the singular variety …


Caveat Spender
by Michael R. Burch

It's better not to speculate
"continually" on who is great.
Though relentless awe's
a Célèbre Cause,
please reserve some time for the contemplation
of the perils of EXAGGERATION.


This is another of my scientific limericks …

Parting is such sweet sorrow
by Michael R. Burch

The universe is flying apart.
Hush, Neil deGrasse Tyson’s heart!
Repeat, repeat.
Don’t skip a beat.
Perhaps some new Big Bang will spark?


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!


ANIMAL LIMERICKS
A much-needed screed against licentious insects
by Michael R. Burch

after and apologies to Robert Schechter

Army ants? ARMY ants?
Yet so undisciplined to not wear pants?
How incredibly rude
to wage war in the ****!
We moralists call them SMARMY ants!


Dot Spotted
by Michael R. Burch

There once was a leopardess, Dot,
who indignantly answered: "I’ll not!
The gents are impressed
with the way that I’m dressed.
I wouldn’t change even one spot!"


Clyde Lied!
by Michael R. Burch

There once was a mockingbird, Clyde,
who bragged of his prowess, but lied.
To his new wife he sighed,
"When again, gentle bride?"
"Nevermore!" bright-eyed Raven replied.



The Dromedary and the Very Work-Wary Canary
by Michael R. Burch

There once was a dromedary
who befriended a crafty canary.
Budgie said, "You can’t sing,
but now, here’s the thing—
just think of the tunes you can carry!"


The Mallard
by Michael R. Burch

The mallard is a fellow
whose lips are long and yellow
with which he, honking, kisses
his *****, boisterous mistress:
my pond’s their loud bordello!


The Trouble with Elephants: a Word to the Wise
by Michael R. Burch

An elephant never forgets
and thus they don’t make the best pets:
Jumbo may well out-live you,
but he’ll never forgive you,
no matter how sincere your regrets!


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
right 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
right off with his iron ***** ginormous!


Here's a limerick about one of the universe's greatest ironies: the lack of rhyme words for "poetry" and "limerick." I almost solved the latter, but fell a bit short:

Shelved Elves
by Michael R. Burch

I wanted to rhyme with “limerick”
and settled on “good old Saint Slimmer Nick”
about a dieting Claus,
but drawing no “ahs!”
I glumly rescinded the trimmer trick.


To show the flexibility of the limerick form, it has often been used for political purposes, and to expose, satirize and savage charlatans. Here are are two such limericks of mine:

Baked Alaskan

There is a strange yokel so flirty
she makes ****** seem icons of purity.
With all her winkin’ and blinkin’
Palin seems to be "thinkin’"—
"Ah culd save th’ free world ’cause ah’m purty!"

Copyright 2012 by Michael R. Burch
from Signs of the Apocalypse
all Rights and Violent Shudderings Reserved



Going Rogue in Rouge

It'll be hard to polish that apple
enough to make her seem palatable.
Though she's sweeter than Snapple
how can my mind grapple
with stupidity so nearly infallible?

Copyright 2012 by Michael R. Burch
from Signs of the Apocalypse
all Rights and Violent Shudderings Reserved



I have even written limericks about religion, mostly heretical limericks:

Pell-Mell for Hell Mel
by Michael R. Burch

There once was a Baptist named Mel
who condemned all non-Christians to hell.
When he stood before God
he felt like a clod
to discover His Love couldn’t fail!


Why I Left the Religious Right
by Michael R. Burch

He's got Jesus's name on a wallet insert
and "Hell is for Queers" on the back of his shirt
and he upholds the Law,
for grace has a flaw:
the Church must have someone to drag through the dirt.



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 was an old man from Peru
who dreamed he was eating his shoe.
He awoke one dark night
from a terrible fright
to discover his dream had come true!
—Variation on a classic limerick by Michael R. Burch


There once was a poet from Nashville
which hockey fans rechristened Smashville,
but his odd limericks
pulled so many weird tricks
his pale peers now prefer 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 ice-hoarding Dame of Paree.
—Michael R. Burch


Here's one for the poets:

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.


Here's one for the Flintstones:

Early Warning System
by Michael R. Burch

A hairy thick troglodyte, Mary,
squinched dingles excessively airy.
To her family’s deep shame,
their condo became
the first cave to employ a canary!


Donald Trump Limericks aka Slimericks

Viral Donald
by Michael R. Burch

Donald Trump is coronaviral:
his brain's in a downward spiral.
That pale nimbus of hair
proves there's nothing up there
but an empty skull, fluff and denial.


Stumped and Stomped by Trump
by Michael R. Burch

There once was a candidate, Trump,
whose message rang clear at the stump:
"Vote for me, wheeeeeeeeeeeeeee!,
because I am ME,
and everyone else is a chump!"


Humpty Trumpty
by Michael R. Burch

Humpty Trumpty called for a wall.
Trumpty Dumpty had a great fall.
Now all the Grand Wizards
and Faux PR men
Can never put Trumpty together again.


White as a Sheet
by Michael R. Burch

Donald Trump had a real Twitter Scare
then rushed off to fret, vent and share:
“How dare Bernie quote
what I just said and wrote?
Like Megyn he’s mean, cruel, unfair!”


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
flashed by before Oprah could notice!


Trump’s Golden Rule
by Michael R. Burch

Donald Trump is the victim of leaks!
Golden showers are NOT things he seeks!
Though he dearly loves soaking
the women he’s groping,
get real, 'cause he pees ON the meek!


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.


Eerie Dearie
by Michael R. Burch

A trembling young auditor, white
as a sheet, like a ghost in the night,
saw his dreams, his career
in a ****!, disappear,
and then, strangely Enronic, his wife.

Fortune named Enron "America's Most Innovative Company" for six consecutive years, but the company went bankrupt and vanished after its accounting practices were determined to be fraudulent.


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.



***** LIMERICKS



A randy young dandy named Sadie
loves ***, but in forms reckoned shady.
(I cannot, of course,
involve her poor horse,
but it’s safe to infer she's no lady!)
—Michael R. Burch


There was a lewd ***** from Nantucket
who intended to *** in a bucket;
but being a man
she missed the **** can
and her rattled johns fled, crying: "**** it!"
—Variation on a classic limerick by Michael R. Burch


Here are three "linked" Nantucket limericks of mine, forming a triple limerick:

There was a coarse ***** of Nantucket
whose bush needed someone to pluck it
’cause it looked like a chimp’s
and her johns were limp gimps
who were too scared to **** it or **** it.

So that coarse, canny ***** of Nantucket,
once ****-shaved, decided to shuck it
—that thick, wiry pelt
that smelled like wet felt—
and made it a toupee for Luckett.

Now Luckett, once bald as an eagle,
like Samson, stands handsome and regal
with hair to his ***
that smells like his lass,
but still comes when she calls, like a beagle.
—a triple limerick by Michael R. Burch


Shotgun Bedding

A pedestrian pediatrician
set out on a dangerous mission;
though his child bride, ******,
was a sweet senorita,
her pa's shotgun cut off his emissions.
—Michael R. Burch



Untitled Limericks

There was a young lady from France
Who’d let cute boys poke in her pants:
They'd give her the finger
Where she'd let them linger
because that's the point of romance!
—Michael R. Burch


There once was a girl with small *****
who would only go out with young rubes,
but their ***** 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 lady of France
longed to have a ménage in her pants
but in lieu of real boys
she settled for toys
& painted pinkies to make her bits dance.
—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,
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,
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


Four Limericks  plus one Lead-In Poem

Updated Advice to Amorous Bachelors
by Michael R. Burch

At six-thirty,
feeling flirty,
I put on the hurdy-gurdy ...

But Ms. Purdy,
all alert-y,
kicked me where I’m sore and hurty.

The moral of my story?
To avoid a fate as gory,
flirt with gals a bit more *****-y!



Mating Calls
by Michael R. Burch

1.
Nine-thirty? Feeling flirty (and, indeed, a trifle *****),
I decided to ring prudish Eleanor Purdy ...
When I rang her to bang her,
it seems my words stang her!
She hung up the phone, so I banged off, alone.

2.
Still dreaming to hold something skirty,
I once again rang our reclusive Miss Purdy.
She sounded unhappy,
called me “daffy” and “sappy,”
and that was before the gal heard me!

3.
It was early A.M., ’bout two-thirty,
when I enquired again with the regal Miss Purdy.
With a voice full of hate,
she thundered, “It’s LATE!”
Was I, perhaps, over-wordy?

4.
It was probably close to four-thirty
the last time I called the miserly Purdy.
Although I’m her boarder,
the restraining order
freezes all assets of that virginity hoarder!



Teeter Tots
by Michael R. Burch

For your spuds to become Tater Tots,
First, artfully cut out the knots,
Then dice them into tiny cubes,
Deep fry them, and serve them to rubes
(but not if they’re acting like snots).



Golden Years?
by Michael R. Burch

I’m getting old.
My legs are cold.
My book’s unsold and my wife’s a scold.
Now the only gold’s
in my teeth.
I fold.



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, limericks, double limerick, triple limerick, humor, light verse, nonsense verse, doggerel, humor, humorous verse, light poetry, *****, ribald, irreverent, funny, satire, satirical

I

All all and all the dry worlds lever,
Stage of the ice, the solid ocean,
All from the oil, the pound of lava.
City of spring, the governed flower,
Turns in the earth that turns the ashen
Towns around on a wheel of fire.

How now my flesh, my naked fellow,
Dug of the sea, the glanded morrow,
Worm in the scalp, the staked and fallow.
All all and all, the corpse's lover,
Skinny as sin, the foaming marrow,
All of the flesh, the dry worlds lever.

            II

Fear not the waking world, my mortal,
Fear not the flat, synthetic blood,
Nor the heart in the ribbing metal.
Fear not the tread, the seeded milling,
The trigger and scythe, the bridal blade,
Nor the flint in the lover's mauling.

Man of my flesh, the jawbone riven,
Know now the flesh's lock and vice,
And the cage for the scythe-eyed raver.
Know, O my bone, the jointed lever,
Fear not the screws that turn the voice,
And the face to the driven lover.

            III

All all and all the dry worlds couple,
Ghost with her ghost, contagious man
With the womb of his shapeless people.
All that shapes from the caul and suckle,
Stroke of mechanical flesh on mine,
Square in these worlds the mortal circle.

Flower, flower the people's fusion,
O light in zenith, the coupled bud,
And the flame in the flesh's vision.
Out of the sea, the drive of oil,
Socket and grave, the brassy blood,
Flower, flower, all all and all.

Soulful interludes Cento Taka

Walk up a country lane to farmhouse darkness the finesse the true an deep point of navigation everything bathed held in quiet glory
Become the farmer go to the fields at first light let the machinery flow through your eye gate steel formed with lines of brute power
Rubber round the glide across richest black soil these fields so common quickly turn from spurious to immeasurable splendor as told
In the farmer’s heart as he stands on his porch looks into this six foot stand dark brooding stretches endlessly away its volume weighs
On his soul as it comes in great waves into his consciousness the finest feeling of accomplishment brightness his face well done Cloyce
Gatewood you left a lot behind as you passed from this green productive land

Purposely walk along the streets of the big apple no senses it can’t activate music your taste go on a quiet early evening slip in unseen
To the concert hall look on from the shadows as the master opens the case tenderly and lovingly takes out the violin you will hear
Sounds that can only be formed in dreams it’s not possible in the realm of those that are awake you will hear the spruce plate and the
maple ribbing create such acoustic sounds only sounds of tears gently coursing that only God can hear are brought forth from the bow
And the strings take caution lean on something or set or you could fall from weak legs and a mind and heart to full overloaded with
Beauty the master uses outward physical means to bring and evoke the music of his hidden soul thank you Johann Sebastian Bach.
Or perhaps your interest lies in art paints and canvass art shows abound museums house every piece imaginable the higher beauty
Of New Mexico and its desert shapes not found on the surface no need to worry Georgia O Keefe went from these very streets her
Vision her eye that looked beyond barren waste made the desert flower before it biblical time that it bud as a rose when the prince
Shall come by the way happy birthday great prince on that note maybe your taste runs in ancient musty yesterdays the master piece
Of Rembrandt he stalked the world as a lion his brush his power his strokes exude genius timeless wonder captured executed with
Deftness enthralling praise of the crowd still is heard well at least in sweetest whispers it is a museum you know.
Great writing telling lines your delight book stores out number restaurants food for the mind far greater than the temporal treats
Consumed and then soon forgotten No man is an island John Donne (1572-1631). … "All mankind is of one author, and is one volume;
When one man dies” or the words of Henry David Thorough “most men live quiet lives of desperation”
Maybe you’re the outdoors man leave the soul of a city that flows back and forth from divine true heart and goodness to a city noted
As a volcano the pressure intense at times that’s the cost of greatness well walk among the redwoods john Muir possessed the good
Sense to set this treasure aside in fact a Golden gate is at one end of Muir Woods the Barbary Coast its greater cloak that defines
Beauty through breath taking sites cliffs that rise and border the pacific waters, detailed by a Salinas resident you might have heard of
His two stories Cannery Row Grapes of Wrath and several others made John Steinbeck an American literary giant not bad for great
Outdoors men well this completes my Cento salute. Authors and masters who elevate us all.

I've got vines for my veins and roots for my laces
Leaves for my hair that hangs over empty eyes, graceless
It's coming from up under my branches
All this air could've been wasted on dead faces

Tell me what you're thinking
Put it into words for my inkling
Tickle me with jokes
But watch out for my ribbing

Power only consumes
But love it always feeds you
And I love it
When you breeze through

And I'm moving
To windy grooving
As you sing me
All your favorite musing

So baby won't you cut me
Down but don't you burn me
Wear me as a locket
Don't you ever lose me

Or I'll lose me

THE PARTY AT PRINCE REGENT HOTEL FOR NEW YEARS


YA SEE WE PARTIED AT PRINCE REGENT HOTEL

ON NEW YEARS EVE, OH YEAH THAT SOUND SWEET

YA SEE THE CHEF HAD A BIG FRY UP WITH LEFT OVER SNAGS AND STEAKS

UEAH THAT SOUNDS SO COOL

AND ALL THE MEN SAT IN THE CORNER, DUDE

SAYING TOO EACH OTHER, WHAT A FINE COLLECTION OF *****

AND ONE FATHER GAVE HISW 8 YEAR OLD DAUGHTER SCOTCH AND COKE

AND DESPITE THE HOTEL STAFF HATING IN, THEIR HANDS WERE TIED

GREG LIKED THAT INTEGRITY, OH YEAH, DUDES, THOUGHT IT WAS RAD

CAUSE GREG WASN’T GOING TO BE LABLED A PARTY POOPER

IN EVERY STRETCH OF THE IMAGINATION

GREG DECIDED TO LAY LOW FOR A WHILE, SO HE GOT DRESSED UP AS THE NEW YEAR TIGER, DUDE

AND PUT ON A LITTLE SHOW FOR THE KIDS TO ENJOY THEIR NEW YEARS

GREG WAS A BIT WEIRD CAUSE HE WAS FORCING KIDS TO LISTEN TO HIM LISTEN TO HIM LISTEN TO HIM

THE KIDS WERE TIRED BUT GREG STILL FORCED THE KIDS TO LISTEN TO HIS NEW YEAR TIGER SHOW

YA SEE THIS DAY WAS START OF MY PARANORMAL VOICES YA SEE

YOU SEE ROSLYN MARRIED ME, CAUSE I WAS FORCING KIDS TO WATCH MY SHOWS

WHETHER THEY WERE TIRED OR NOT

YA SEE, WHEN I WAS YOUNG IN THIS LIFE, I HEARD VOICES OF PEOPLE TALKING ABOUT ME, BEHIND MY BACK

I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT TO MAKE OF IT AT FIRST, AND PEOPLE ARE RIBBING ME, BY SAYING SHUT UP WOOSEY

TO ME, AND NOW AS I REMEMBER, AS THE DINNER WAS OVER, JOSEPH PEANUCKLE

DECIDED TO GO TO HIS SUITE TO GET HIS FLUTE TO ENTERTAIN THE CROWD

AND THE LADIES AND MEN DANCED WITH EACH OTHER AND GREG AND THE

HOTEL STAFF WERE TALKING TO EACH OTHER, ISN’T THIS WONDERFUL

AND EACH OF US HAS 6 MILLION POUNDS EACH, AND IF EACH OF THE STAFF

PUTS IN 1 MILLION POUNDS, PRINCE REGENT HOTEL CAN GET THE COUNTRY CLUB UPGRADE

THAT IT THOROUGHLY DESERVES, AND AS THEY PARTY INTO THE NIGHT, AT 11.55 PM

GREG DRESSED UP AS THE NEW YEAR TIGER AND SANG

I AM A TIGER IN A TOP HAT

A TIGER IN A WHITE TIE

AND WE’LL PARTY ON DOWN

YA SEE, I AM A TIGER IN A TOP HAT

A TIGER IN A WHITE TIE

AND COUNT ‘EM OWN

HE REPEATED THAT TILL THE BIG COUNTDOWN

AND LED THE COUNTDOWN

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 AND YELLED OUT HAPPY NEW YEAR

AND JOSEPH PLAYED AULD LENG ZINE ON THE FLUTE

AND PLAYED OTHER SONGS ON THE FLUTE TILL 1-29 AM IN THE MORNING

ALL THE HOTEL GUESTS, ALL WENT TO BED, WHILE GREG AND THE HOUSE KEEPERS

WERE CLEANING UP AFTERWARDS, AND THIS HAPPENED EVERY YEAR OF THE

1817 TO 1819, THE 1820S THE 1830S THE 1840S

AND GREG WAS GREAT, EACH YEAR BRINGING THE NEW YEAR IN WITH A GRIN

HAPPY NEW YEAR, FROM THE OLD FASHIONED PRINCE REGENT HOTEL

AND ALL UPGRADES WERE SUCCESSFUL, MELBOURNE WERE THE TALK OF THE COUNTRY BACK THEN

HAPPY NEW YEAR

I AM HEARING MY RIBBER IN MY HEAD, SHOWING ME, THAT I WAS WRONG





YA SEE, WHEN I WAS YOUNG, I WAS LOCKED IN A SCHOOL CLOSET

AND I SAID, TO MYSELF, I WANT TO GRAB KIDS ON THE MOUTHS

AND MAKE THEM SCREAM, YA SEE I GRABBED DAVID ON THE MOUTH

AND HE WAS A COOL KID TO ME, BUT I HATED BEING LOCKED IN THAT ROOM

SO I TOOK REVENGE ON THE SCHOOL, BUT MICHEAL WAS TOO STRONG

BUT I MANAGED TO GET A WRESTLE IN, WITH HIM

YA SEE I WITNESSED CAMERON BEING *******

AND I HEARD THAT BOY IS NOW DEAD, BUT HE TRAPPED ME

IN MY HOUSE, SO CAMERON CAN PLAY

I HAD FUN PUTTING MY HAND AROUND DAVIDS MOUTH

AS WELL AS ATTEMPTING TO GRAB GARY BAKER BY THE MOUTH

AND I ALSO FANTASIZED GRABBING A BULLY MARK, WARD

BUT I DECIDED AGAINST THAT, CAUSE HE WOULD BULLY ME WORST THAN MICHEAL

AND I TOOK REVENGE ON THE MALL CROWD, BY BEING THE COME HERE GRABBER AT THE MALL

BUT I GRABBED ‘EM AND LET THEM GO

LIKE THAT KID, I TIED HIM UP, AND LET HIM GO

I AM WRITING, THIS CAUSE I AM A WRITER, ARTIST AND YOUTUBE ENTERTAINER

ALL THIS WAS BECAUSE I WAS KLOCKED IN THAT STORAGE ROOM

AND I FELT LIKE KIDNAPPING PAUL BERENYI, BUT HE WAS A TEASING BULLY TO

PLEASE STOP TREATING ME LIKE A PHEDAPHILE OR KIDNAPPER

I MADE A MISTAKE, JUST LIKE ZANO AND PAUL MADE A MISTAKE BY LOCKING ME IN THE ROOM

CAUSE, REALLY DUDES, I WAS RESCUED, BUT STILL I HATED BEING IN THERE

PEOPLE USED TO GRAB MY WALLET AND TEASE ME, BY TOSSING OVER MY SHOULDER

I GAVE JAMES PEDERSON, HELL, I WAS TRYING TO BE LIKE THE BIG MEN OF MY PAST

BUT I ENDED UP BEING A BIG WORTHLESS

YA SEE, I RIBBED DAVID, MY OLD SELF IS RIBBING ME AT PRESENT

I WRESTLED WITH BOYS AT SCHOOL, MY OLD SELF, IS TREATING ME LIKE AN ANIMAL

I AM NO ANIMAL, I AM NOT STUPID TO STAY WITH MY OLD SELF

THE RIBBING CAME FROM NOBODY BUT MY OWN SELF

THE SHUT UP ****, WAS FROM MY BROTHER

I HEAR VOICES SAYING CHRIS ISN’T AROUND ANYMORE, BRIAN

I SAY, LET ME GROW UP, WE’RE NOT AT SCHOOL ANYMORE

BUT I AM LISTENING TO MY VOICE OF MY CHILD SELF BACK IN THE 80S

WHAT HAPPENED TO ME, HAPPENS TO MOST COOL KIDS

I DON’T UNDERSTAND WHY MY OLD SELF CAN’T EXCEPT ME IN MY CHOICE

TO BE AN ACTOR, I AM HAVING MEMORIES OF PAT SAYING IN AN ANGRY VOICE, YOU’RE NOT LIKE US, BRIAN

YOU WILL NEVER BE LIKE US, I WANT YOU TO GROW UP PAT SAYS IN MY HEAD

I TOLD HIM TO TAKE MY OLD SCHOOL SELF, UP TO THE COSMOS WHEN WE SLEEP

BUT IF I FEEL LIKE I DID LAST NIGHT

I WILL SIT AND DO MY TAPESTRY, TILL I EVENTUALLY DROP OFF

CHUCK METHANE ON DAD, CAUSE HIM AND ROBIN WILLIAMS

WILL GROW UP TOGETHER AS TWINS

I KNOW I AM GETTING OLDER, BUT I LIKE TO FEEL YOUNG

THAT’S WHY I WRITE AND DO ART

BRIAN ALLAN TAPESTRY PROFILE FACE BOOK

AARON CLAYTON AND AAA YOUTUBE TV ON YOU TUBE

BRIAN ALLAN ON ART COLONY

JOHNNY GEORGIE BROWN ON HELLO WRITERS

WRITER JOE ON WRITERSCAFE

AND I AM NOT WOOSEY FOR LIFE, OR COMPUTERS

I SIMPLY TOLD CANBERRA OFF, FOR LOCKING ME IN THE STORE ROOM

CAUSE I AM HEARING PAT MUCK AROUND WITH MY OLD SELF

MY HOOLIGAN IS DEAD, AND SCATTERED

UMMMMMMMM GOOD RIDDENS TO BAD STUFF IN MY HEAD

UMMMMMMMMM  I WANT TO SAY, KIDNAPPING IS NOT MY STYLE

UMMMMMMMMM I DON’T WANT TO KIDNAP MYSELF ON MY FAMILY

UMMMMMMMM SO I WANT THAT LITTLE KID DEAD

UMMMMMMMMM I BROUGHT HIM BACK, TO THE STREETS

UMMMMMMMMM TO SHOW, CANBERRA, MY HOOLIGANY COOL KID IS DEAD, MY ***** KID, SO TO SPEAK

the cyber bully said sorry to cover up, so does the weird kid


you see there was this man named Robert Delneath who was really bad, and he liked to

pick on vulnerable people, like taking their lunch money to try and prove a point with the

families of the world that he means business, and he has this phoney sorry which always follows

first of all, Robert picked on Harry jacobs by bullying him and making him really sad that

nobody likes him and then he bullied Ben Mather who was really scared of him and said how

about we make a truce, i give you my lunch now and you never hassle me again but Robert

was confused because that is not how it works, you see he said he was the king and deserves everything

and if you don’t give me your lunch, I will punch you, got it, and Ben was really scared and said leave me alone

i am a family person, the only people i like in my life are people who are nice to my family and Robert said **** your

stupid family, ok, you give me your lunch right now, ok and Ben ran away from him but the problems will never go away

cause Robert has friends in high places and track Ben down any tick of the clock and after that he said, Ben, no your not

a family person, I am not leaving you alone till you understand that you are a hooligan, ya know a no hoper like me but Ben

said no, i am not a no hoper, i am one stretch of the canvas a better person than you.

Robert said ok go home, but i will hassle you again, and don’t forget Mather, I never get caught, so you have to co operate

and then there was Mark Kenneth who hardly went out much and his brother was a real adventure lover and because of that

Robert was enrolled himself himself in the same school as Mark, decided to pick on him by taking his lunch, saying you are

a stupid little ******* circus monkey and Mark said my family are really nice to me and they will protect me, but none of that

came out, actually Mark was too scared to say anything and kept looking at Robert and Robert and his mated said what are you looking at, Turk

and picked on him for a long time, you see Mark wanted this man to leave him alone but didn’t have the heart to say anything to him

because Robert tried to tell him to shut up, and Mark was about to say, Nobody tells Mark Kenneth to shut up, but none of that came out

and he remained looking at Robert, making him feel very uncomfortable, but Mark just sat there watching him trying to think that he really thought

Robert was cool and he didn’t want cool people bullying him so instead of saying that either, he said nothing remaining lookling at him

in a queer sort of a way and then when Mark went home he told his parents and the next day Mr Kenneth became the the big man and actually

said, LEAVE MY SON ALONE,  and Robert said i am trying to but he is looking at us in a queer way, we need him to understand that kids are cool

and Mr  kenneth  was worried about his families safety so he got a job offer in Wisconsin and moved there and when he arrived there Mark started going out

and was trying to think about a way to protect himself better because what Robert posted on Face book that there is a queer starer coming to the USA

and what was happening was a hole lot of situations like a kid saying your like us man, i want o fight you, and another group of thugs locked Mark up in the

the store room in his class, and some kids ****** into a fruit box bottle and gave to Mark to drink which really upset Marks father and also some poor kids

kept on ribbing him for money, by throwing his wallet all over the classroom and when he thought his peers were finally going to leave him alone,

then the voices started happening in Marks head, Kidnap kids take a kid and lock him in the cage, which forced a situation with a portable toilet which was

there for the workmen, of the putting together of gas in the street and Mark wanted to lock every kid in this toilet, one by one, and then the kidnap voices

really drove him crazy, but he tried to play basketball and bowling as well as go to see the Green Bay Packers play, yeah this was realy radically awesome

for him but then he went to the Wisconsin local fruit market and ******* a boy to the toilet, and that was where, Mark had to settle down, getting kids back makes you

the bully and Robert must be dead or sitting in his house laughing at the crazy Mark Kenneth and then Mark thought drinking was his solace but he started really fighting

his dad t stick up to him, but it turned out that Mr Kenneth was really scared of his son Mark, he was really scared for his safety because of the way the young dudes

teased him because Mark was staring at them, never wanted to accept his apology because he thought he wanted the teasing to come back, and Mark was mugged outside the

Green Bay Packers football club after watching cake perform, and lost his house keys and his wallet and some ******* bashed him but let him go after Mark was appearing to tough for him

and after all that Robert said I am Robert Delneath world famous cyber bully, I NEVER LOSE, ****** Mark, you see Robert planed the voice in his head, saying he wasn’t a nerdy character

just try and beat us, I have the world at my fingertips, heh heh heh

robbie roe wanted to read a book

and his mates were ribbing him good

and robbie said leave me alone

his mates said neh, cause robbie you are still lile us now man

robbie roe sat down and watched the news

his mates were ribbing him good

robbie said leave me alone

i want to see the news

and his mates said, they don’t care because you are still like us

robbie wanted to look at the internet

reading the wikapedia about some girl they knew

his mates ribbed him good again

and then this went on for months and months

robbie roe was worried because every time he did something relaxing

his mates ribbed him, robbioe doesn’t want to get ribbed like thus

he wants to learn about who to avoid on the street

when there are new tablets to take for various illnesses

new cars on the market for japan and when an actress has a baby

and it tells you all about christmas being about the birth of jesus christ

how he laid in the manger on christmas day in a holiday inn

it shows through history there are so many stories which sound the same

robbie watched a hospital dramas and his mates ribbed him good

because his mates wanted the world to stay ready for them and leave stuoid robbie to squirm

like the little young dude that he is

you see robbie watched casualty and they had this woman with blood all over her

and robbie said if he was her doctor he will try and figure out why the blood was there

and then operate if needs be

robbies mates just laughed at him and said you are a woosey robbie

robbie said, every time i read a good story watch the news or read the internet

my so called mates laugh and poke fun at him

what was their problem thought robbie, jealous, i guess

Green crash,
suddenly center signal
on strange, distant announcement squiggle.
Scenery dashingly
simple, single.

Wave shape,
hungering scented cower.
On top, beady dispassioned shower,
shaving or scraping a
wooden tower.

Stale grid,
static or sounding static.
Appear, pointedly under attic,
wailing forbidden, not
automatic.

Big screen
messaging: starlight scatter.
The end. Something but antimatter.
Trigger between, in the
ribbing: flatter.

Soft board,
terribly outer terror
perceives singular, stringent error.
Coughing accordingly
code propeller.

***

half here in a 1.5x body
six inches above the national average height
I didn't notice when I was marooned in the clouds

now a pariah afraid of birds (SQUAWK)  

(CAWING)

"It's too foggy to notice much here"
"Too bad I didn't pay attention"

(RIBBING)

too b a d
so   s a d

That nobody sad I was sick till it was too late…

…now I've got smack on the brain, nothing in my ****, and empty pockets for innumerable bills

except I always find money for *****, whose blurry touch tells me not to feel, too feel, and to speak.
I wonder when I became ******** and when I stopped being exceptional.
Maybe they're synonymous?

IDK **** K I L L ME, maYBE
This is too long of a poem for anyone to read it

Planted in my own space
No time stamp  
Exiting pretending
Eliminating ribbing and quick witting
Sitting waiting no more
To banter back and forth
Alone you're just you
No guilt in liking you
Or the things you like
You can embrace
Self-acceptance
The tiny bit of innocence you still hold
Scoop, bottle, and carry it
Your opinion is valid your thoughts aligned
When I'm by myself I close my ears and open my mind
And choose to listen to my me and never adhere to the voices outside

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

pillars marred by time's decay
an undulating stream of minuscule
daggers, the four suns stab
stone and skin alike
ribbing shores of merciless
compassion and the future
is impetuous

Snow Sleep

the promise~warning of a fresh snow delivery
by milky white angels alters the soundscape
of the city; the early traffic is major muted; the
boisterous, ribald ribbing of teenage competition
is put away in the drawer, reserved for weekend
snow ball fights and Central Park mountain sledding

but what I come to tell you is of my beloved, who nearby,
advantaged by the silence deep sleeps in the ultra
quiet of the bedroom for I have tiptoed lightly away,
nary a squeak or a tweet to sting or wrest the cool
comfort of the concoction of dark+chocolate combo
of absolute silence, the political commentators must now wait their turn, while supping my endless Blue Mountain white mug

yes, even I, wide awake for hours, sense the ulterior
sensory deprivation, the only noise is the windage
of the air conditioning that refrigerates its humming
and the body’s humming response, a choral harmony
of shhhhh…

why matters this to you, I do not know, perhaps
a mutuality of recognition as your children exercise
their snow day privileges, letting you off the hook,
for there is always tomorrow when the dragging-
out-of-bed, the stomping of snow boots, and pleas
to help them find their hidden scarfs and gloves cannot
go ignored, or be silenced…today, this sound of snow~sleep,
a rarity for us city dwellers, who, the unfortunate few, will soon venture forth to meet obligations, completecontracts, open the shop,
write the reports and do the daily diurnal or place calls to counterparts overseas to jointly prognosticate the future of
the next twenty four, but with a snowy lethargy

I write, this, to you, to my children, to the world, but
mostly to my beloved, who, drugged by snow~sleep,
yet to stir, sleeps a soundless sleep of….

wait-a-minute, 8:00am, and I hear a bellow of hello,
a lighthouse sound of warning, and kitchen noises,
the cicadas of circadian rhythms cannot be held back,
triumphantly awaken her, the habits of a lifetime
cannot be overcome…

8:04am
nyc
2/13/24

i went about the down and cleand own b yth ec l ea n
lithe bony bay ribbing the asphalt skin chuckTaylors'
and by and by the astute angle of the seas daunting
tailored skinny notch a grommet of sun ****** through
the scaly tremble of wispy ***** clouds spunting and breatheing
casual volumes of aromatic fluid bumbling out their tired
mouths and ******* on the lax pavement some of the heavy
drops "sPloosh!' wenting the ocean did and going "
whOosh ! "     the waves are munificently scrambling all about the rough timber
of the agile dock sitting sorely all alonesome and fickle
    so i gave it my feet
and wattled to its precocious face
and slid into the big
       blatant crumble
:      THE WATER

it was
in the congregation of ochre skin around his knuckle
that I knew to feel more coarse but more detail-attentive than the skin of his cheek, and it was in
the ribbing of his t-shirt, and in his ribs.
when I kissed his mouth that Saturday, we thought quietly together
“we are kissing on the mouth, we are kissing we are kissing”

tonight, when I kiss his knuckle almost imperceptibly,
I cannot hear his thoughts, and mine are “I would sooner be nowhere else”
and “happy birthday” and “I’ll need a haircut in a week or two”

I recently went on a website House Of Names.Com
I discovered that my maiden name means Spindle
I don't think it defines me ,my sisters have inherited
the sewing gene not me.
In Home  EC.  in high school I got my finger stuck in
the needle, I did not fall asleep and get woken up by a prince
I instead got make fun of by my teacher and peers alike
When I made  a mistake and used a seem ripper, I ripped the material
Worse of all I was new at sewing and I was given the project of making a sweatshirt with ribbing, and the teacher Exclaimed, " I thought I would you something that was challenging, but I didn't know you had no talent", in front of the whole class, that really hurt and discovering what my name means, has brought up bad memories for me. On the plus side ,though I can sew on a button by hand,beyond that I prefer to delegate the responsibility of sewing to someone else. What's in a Name? I ask you? what does your name mean?
Does it define you or not?
As far as I'm concerned I want to be defined by other things besides my name, if other people don't like it, I say sew what!

Pulling apart from the chest
Fingers heart deep tugging to break
The ribbing that holds us spinning
Screaming, shouting, devouring devout
Lashings, gnawing, gnashing
Blood and bones
Rebuilding broken blocks
Uplifting blind eyes to a light unseen
I am chained, happily, in a cave
Philandering with philosophy
We'll never know
Why we were tossed to see
Snatching flesh from limbs
Unable to clasp hold
I am unadulterated rage
Dead tree limbs reaching to a fire ball
Losing to a cold blue sphere
Hold true, fear
For fear not
I hear not
And I'm trudging towards the trenches

It's a game you never really cared about.
Still, I spent every waking moment giving all I had to this game.
Still, you spent nearly as much time ribbing me about the soft sport that didn't matter til the last few seconds.
Tonight, my team won a championship against all odds.
Tonight, despite the distance between us, I think of you.

Old man, I want to thank you. Cause if you didn't show me hockey, or baseball, or lacrosse, or football, I would have never found my life. I owe that to you.

Mom, I want to thank you too. Cause if you never took me to every soccer practice, if you never listened to my persistent sports ramblings, if you hadn't taught me what it means to be a good teammate, I would never have found this life. I owe it all to you.

Found some success new goals
Missing family everyone head strong
Chasing a dream no one understands
Everyone has their plans to follow
Trying to share success that's knocked
Lots of imposition be happy for others
Their hatred ruining everything
Not allowing it anymore
Staying away to keep the peace
Ribbing one another as a joke
Everything becomes personal
Everyone talks but can't take it
Not respect expecting sympathy
Running things to the ground
Then have the nerve to complain

<>


a lump in my bed
————————

sheet covered, toe to head, alive or ?
call it lumpen woman, though shapely,
the thick coverlet says yay, let’s suppress!
what lies sheet-deep, let everyone wanna guess?

two arms snakily shoot/emerge, straight out,
from besides ears, to aerate treasured tresses,
blonde mane, lioness locks, somehow sun colored, of the
rest, a-guessing kept, I man of reason, am’nt a speculator

reasoning that when the world was 1st created,
there was a holy hole in my side, missing a ribbing,
leaving me needy for a plugging, a poultice covering,
a bandage stitched, so my breathing unimpaired

thus this how and why the lumpen woman is come
into bed and body, to patch and complete, warm and
stoke me, wake up us to freshly chilled spring atmospheres,
and other supposed reasons to compose only love poetry

Fri May 22
early morn bedecked bed
isle of sheltering

I finally got cleared to go back to work. Still watching my diet minding my business
Before I was an emotional eater that would stuff my face
Get mad or hurt when people would give me their opinion
I never asked I wasn't going to change I'm not perfect
I don't knock others to feel secure about myself
Thankful and humbled I apologize it use to be hard but I've been practicing.  
People are mean and step all over me because I'm too nice
But when I strike back its cut throat and ribbing is like a free style battle that I aim to **** straight forward to the point and blunt as hell.
I've learned to take the L sometimes my stuff is funny but boarder line personal. Once the filter comes off it all comes out

there is a term applied to religious
   paintings : mandorla which
literally means "almond" in italian.
it is an art history term referencing the shape
of the halo around
gods
and their mothers.

the word seeks to describe
the shape only.

w/out context
the almond shells in my hand .give way to
the metal hand-held ******* of years passing from
(those pictures)

i speak,but

my _breath.is caught in the jacket loose rubbing
elastic cuff
ribbing
stretching out
reminding
.hairs around the toes in the shower
stay behind. even under the sock
throughout the rest of the  work day
trill
evidence that memory connects to
event
[]][][[]0][]]
looking through my husked fingers to block
the light of its halo,
the sun bakes dark objects only
in winter
with home dragging along ;*****
in wool'fibers
home drug
like old music
unlike new music which is recorded
forever;
stomach pangs for sandwiches but the
mouth drags.along
      a l m o n d s .

An involuntary spasm
of the diaphragm
and respiratory organs,
with a sudden closure
of the glottis
and a characteristic
sound like that of a cough.

Rather mundane topic
lest one cursed
with said minor inconvenience
that subsequently manifests
into protracted health crisis.

I write much hiccup ado
about nothing, which
involuntary explosive release
comes clear out of the hiccup blue
nary a sponge bob
square pants handy dandy blues clue,
where in tarnation
this uncontrollable bout
jarring the Jimmy Neutron body
electric all's well
that ends well hiccup do.

Why such physiological
spasmodic trembling
undulating weird phenomena
uncontrollable peculiar singultus kickstarts,
where one of many
extreme measures now suggested
such as ramming cloven hoofs
down the gullet wool shear
lee be in vain
to bring closure of glottis hiccups ewe

you wool sheepishly  
moost likely find annoying
as this hiccupping buck feels few
breaths short of taking
another potential drastic action…
like hiccup swallowing glue
as an extreme solution
wide whirled, webbed series
of being held hostage
resorting to asking Horton hears a Who

to stomp his elephant legs
(also known as hottentot bread)
atop thee abdominal chest
(me not ribbing ye dear reader)
despite impossible mission
to escape, thus truncating mein kampf
and additional fail safe measure
being trundled to an igloo
serving as ice cold emergency room
of a mockup hospital or calling

on the ghost of  the late veterinarian
James Herriot to scare doggone
such hiccup caterwauling
catering to gentile
or skeletal anorexic
hunger artist appropriately named Jew
Lean, thus, time and again
when said hiccup affliction
holds me hiccup hostage
ye dear stranger knew

seeking cure twill drive me towards
considering additional outrageous
acts of desperation
such as sticking ma head in the loo,
which bizarre reaction
on par with holding
out an appetite
until famished for moo
goo guy pan mixed
with delicious bowl of new

dulls steeped in broth,
an island delicacy renown on Oahu
even this atheist would ask
for salivation praying in a pew,
whereby sound of silence
echoed by hiccup right on queue
when nary a burble
until reaching amen hiccup rue
stubbornly persists,
no matter resorting

to consider extreme unction measures
at suppressing explosive strew
wing upsurge of diaphragm,
accursed diabolical solution
holding breath until
turning blue in the face  
simultaneously forcing air thru
alternative orifices such as:
nasal passage and/or mouth, ears
or out derrière as last ditch effort.

Oft times physiological phenomena  
faintly resembles bobbing up and down
analogous to the celebrated
jumping frog of Calaveras County
seriousness one best not undervalue
with a snort
lest ye surpass one poor soul
when an accident
on June 13, 1922,

Charles Osborne  
(experienced 20 to 40
involuntary diaphragm
spasms per minute)
hiccupped nonstop,
which condition persisted
for more than six decades,
only ending in 1990,
a full 68 years after it began.

Osborne's plight remains
the longest attack
of hiccups confirmed
by Guinness World Records
invariably accompanied
no doubt by a voodoo
Practitioner…until…at last whew
hiccups stopped  mysteriously
as they started
bringing relief
to him who analogously felt like
caged primate in a zoo.

Whereby yours truly presages and doth abhor
nothing short of an imminent civil war
dwarfing insurrection on January 6, 2021
oddly enough even reducing
ordinary decibels to a mute whisper
madding crowd trumpeting cacophony of ˈthȯr
drowning out sense and sensibility
allowing, enabling, and providing
golden opportunity for anarchy to run rampant
one issuing, earthshaking, and booming
as one collective soul with pride

against prejudice queercore
amidst pandemonium of lawlessness
voices at the forefront ear splitting din
most all social media platforms
buzzfeeding, jump/kickstarting,
and twittering bigotry,
gender inequity, and misogyny nevermore
gender diversity celebrated
reveling harmoniously think
arranged marriage of Kokila and Kishore
parents (most likely deceased)

of Menil and Amit,
one former best high school buddy
with my youngest sister Shari Todd
for most of her sixty three years an herbivore,
and in most respects the antithesis of Eeyore,
(a pessimistic, gloomy, depressed,
anhedonic, old grey stuffed donkey
and friend of title character, Winnie-the-Pooh),
the former would never stand a chance stayin alive
during the reign of brontosaur,
and other so called terrible lizards.

Aforementioned fatalistic political forecast
would translate as absolute zero freedoms
as entrusted with Declaration of Independence,
and Constitution, which incendiary rhetoric
already trumpeted courtesy Republican
dictator wannabe, who will eviscerate
any and all social progressive policies
would essentially leave a **** government
devoid of recognizable Democratic polity.

Lemme plagiarize myself
and express sardonic wit
alliteration with the letter "R,"
I gleefully, playfully, and zestfully transmit
the following poem,
the proto antagonist
will nary even garner an obit
no dead giveaway signs
only brave hearts pointing *******
subtly signaling welcome
to the black parade, the sole intermit
where gewgaws (trolls)
with orange hair sold.

revealing Ronald **** revisited.

Regarding ridiculous rhymeless
ruminative rhythm rankles readers.

Repugnant racist Republican reviled -
rickettsia re:itch ruler
rapaciously ravaged
revered reverential rubric
radical ruthless renegade
rapidly riotously rips rigged ramparts
Refrains retaining remnant
redolent regal, resplendent rafters
riches rudely rupture rooted rectified rights
ruckus ricochets revenant reign
ratified rattlebrained rules roil reductionism.
rumbustious rapscallions rollick;
render ruinous ramifications
rusty razor razing revenge rents reprisal.

Rabid ****** rictus
rotten rebrands re-calibrate.
rambunctious revolutionaries rejoice.
ruffians ride roughshod
routing reigning royalty.

Reiterate revetting robust recidivist rationality
rides Rolls Royce
relentlessly rendering rock ribbing.

Riffraff raconteur raise reactionary response
revisit rancorous restrictive
redlined realigned rightward rivets
Robocop ridiculously
rubber-stamped reorganization
recalcitrant reactors release rapture
rash Russian roulette reconnaissance
raconteurs rack rubles.

Red room reflects Republican RNA.
rap risible rheumy ratiocinated
rug-rats revoke righteous refulgent repertory
rapier robed robbers
ransack reliquary resounding retaliation
retaliatory redcoat regnum
reformation rightly remembered
Rudy robotically recoiling rapprochement
Raison d'être rosily revered
rifled relics raffled
rookie raves ripe rackful
rubenesque reliably ranked
refulgent rotundity requisite
requirement re: reappointment
road-tested, roadworthy
redeem reapportion routed role.

Reprehensible reassignment
rapidly recognizes response
rife rampage removes respectability
responsible roused restitution refuted
risky resultant reconnoitering runaway
railroad reverberates rivalry.

Reflexive ramrod reaction
reconfirms redoubling ridding revitalization
reconfiguration realpolitik reinstates repudiation;
Rebooting Roosevelt regime reconsidered.

Requisition requires resilient reseeding republic
regrettable riley roars remorseless ribbing
rare recount restoring recondite
renown reprobate Rapunzel.

Republican representatives
rejoice reclaiming reins
registering ******* romantic remains
re: Rastafarian revered reliquary rests!