2006 youdonhavetoread San Patricio Limerick eFestival!
10 March 2006
Hi everyone, my saint’s day is seven days from now! That’s right, and to honor San Patricio de Irlandia, I’m holding a Limerick festival!
A limerick, of course, is a five line poem with the rhyming scheme of AABBA. Some famous limericks you might know are Hickory Dickory Dock, and There once was a man from Nantucket… There are more limerick resources here.
Limericks are often naughty, so I won’t put any restrictions on what kind of entries you can send. However, if you do send me a bastos limerick, I can’t promise it will stay posted.
Please post your original limericks in the comments section of this post, or email them to me if you’d like some peer editing.
Yes, there will be awards. Enter as many times as possible.
ps. What rhymes with “Dubai?” how about “hegemony?”
(written at a staff meeting where architects are presenting blueprints and sketches for a theater that doubles as a chapel).
Granted, we have room to grow.
But that’s not a chapel, you know.
We turn a new page
put a priest on the stage
I guess Mass, after all, ’s just a show.
Yikes! Here’s one I wrote at my faculty meeting today:
This meeting’s too boring to mention.
These people don’t hold my attention.
The drawings are nice,
But I’d rather eat rice
Dr. Phil should have an intervention.
The wind is blowing it’s rainy.
My eyes are red, sinus painey.
I met with my boss
She said, “Honey, you’re lost.
Stop mourning the friend of Dick Cheney”
He wondered if someone should tell her
She sounds like she’s been in the cellar
Wouldn’t follow commands
Making signs with her hands
My goodness, that’s just Helen Keller
Rightfully, we felt admonished
Swift victory had us astonished
George spoke, much the merrier,
aboard that aircraft carrier
with a sign that read “Mission Accomplished.”
My best friend’s name is Princess
She’s cute but her nose seemed to have been pressed.
Some guess she’s a Tibetan Spaniel, others say she’s a Pekingese,
To me, she’s just plain old Pugkingese.
Well one might get a ribbon in the “Dog-oriented non-limerick limerick of the year” category.
We’ll see. The festival is not over yet.
jeebus, it’s good to be home
l.a., while nice, was like foam -
soft and pretty, a bit bland;
each day like white sand.
from chicago i’ll likely not roam.
Welcome Back, Ding
I’m so glad you’re back, yes it’s true!
We all languished here without you!
But cover your cough
If you are feeling off
‘Coz it could be the avian flu.
Ayer I went shopping with Lisa
We do this more often then la misa.
We went to “The Rack”
Got a great set of slacks
But I’m dreading the bill on my Visa.
It’s March and supposedly spring,
But such chill the west winds doth bring.
The prediction: more snows�
GodDAMN, this shit blows.
More winter is just so alarming.
Five plus two equals seven,
And four more makes it eleven.
I love doing math
While taking a bath,
‘Cause counting the bubbles is heaven.
(My muse was my 5-year-old kid, who said I should start a poem with “Five plus two equals nothing”�but what rhymes with “nothing”?)
I think therefore I am
Or at least I think I like ham
One slice of cheese
A cheddar � no bries
Hey! I like mustard, not jam.
�You�re fired!� I yelled to the menace
After all, he�d just called me Dennis
But I got many stares
I guess nobody cares
That my bus ride is my own private �Apprentice�
the boy ere two weeks said he’s taken.
i shrugged, not caring - he ain’t bacon.
but this boy is like rain,
keeps flooding my brain.
my indifference? of course, i was fakin’.
Ding’s poetry goes to the heart
Where it plugs up a vein like a fart
I hear that you’re fakin
Don’t sweat it keep shakin!
Your ass, cause his loss’s off the chart!
Five plus two is nothing,
She said, huffing and puffing.
Or that’s what I’m told,
By a fiveish year old,
But we all know kids can’t add for stuffing.
I was checking out Bitch PhD
Instead of updating my CV
I clicked on this link
and now I do think
that I might even want to read more
The biggest superpower nation
Sold some of its ports’ operation,
6 bought DP World
A snit fit unfurled
Though that P’s not for “Penetration”
JP loves korean food
and wishes he doesn’t have to go poo.
JP loves teaching Spanish
While eating on a danish.
JP is a cool dude.
Here are a couple for you, from me.
Oatmeal is so good to eat
But why can’t I smell my feet
my walls are bare
I’m covered with hair
And Solitaire wont let me cheat
Oh But please do not fret young one
Often I wonder are yeti hung
To ask it would be Fear
Unless you offered it beer
But it would probably slip you some tongue
Said a young man “I’ll do it, I’ll pen it,
But not ’til the time that is when it
Most advantages me”-
It advanced him indeed:
For now that young man’s in the Senate!
I’m sorry I got angry and hit you;
It’s just ’cause I love you, it’s true.
But this love’s like a burr,
And one thing’s for sure:
I wish I knew how to quit you.
There once was a man who did actus
Without knowing some of the factus.
He said what you’d say-a
(”I had no mens rea!”
And at least gave his lawyer some practice.
Overheard at Guantanamo Detention Facility
Shove broom handles into his orifice!
We can! There’s no habeas corpus!
Rule of law? We’re offshore!
So this prisoner’s our whore!
Ooo, let’s make him fellate a porpoise!
You Don’t Know Nothing About It
I’m not as dumb as you wish
Thought Alma while washing a dish
Left a note in your gear
But when Jack Nasty’s near…
Ennis, you don’t go up there to fish.
Y�all, the Bush-bashing is played
Find some new target for all of your hate
Your girl Hillary
Isn�t being pilloried
But don�t forget she voted to invade.
My daughter, chastising, does scold
“Don’t dress that way, Mom, you’re too old!”
It is hid from her sight
That I do it for spite
And no-stal-gee-uh for Solid Gold.
A response to Bill:
Hillary’s overrated, I’m afraid
But she did not vote to invade
She authorized use of force
But Bush claimed that was a last resort
When in fact it was all a charade
Frederick
my wife’s from the town of Dolores
she’s boyfriends enough for a chorus
they’ve eaten my hog
and scalded my dog
so I’ve hidden my drink in the forest
the President wants our support
but it seems all he does is distort
Congress has no more spine
civil rights in decline
I just hope we end up with a Court
Some say its a waste of time
To sit hear, thinking up rhyme
I sit, as in a fog
Writing limericks for a log
Relishing every line
Lots of poems end up in the can
Because one or more lines just don’t scan.
Till the meter is tight
No more limericks write,
Or your poems the critics will pan.
Some people persist in opining
This creed of intelligent designing;
But I think you’ll agree
Homo sapiens’ knee
Is in need of a little refining!
Wait a minute. Taddyporter’s first line ends with “Dolores,” but there’s no rhyme with “clitoris”?
I agree with the words of fair Joolya:
If rhythmic contortions must fool ya,
What you have’s not a rhyme,
But much less sublime,
And who will you blame? Come on! Who’ll ya?
I don’t want to work she said, groaning
I’d rather read blogs than be phoning
About contracts and laws
And on, blah, blah, blah
My novel I’d rather be honing
Old Patrick the saint was a Briton
By the Jesus-y bug he was bitten
I�ll submit this screed
To �you don�t have to read�
And hope that JP finds it fittin’.
ok i just read my previous limerick and it isn’t even a limerick! AABBA my ass…i’m surprised you didn’t delete it immediately. in my defense, i was on tylenol p.m. to correct my incredibly annoying insomnia. so anyway, i’m submitting a new one, which i posted on my site to tell my readers to come here:
now you’re all on the edge of your seats
thinking “what’s sp got in store for me?”
just wait a while
and in the meantime
go write a good limerick for JP
Ha!
The thing is, you can’t hide a case of whisky behind a clitoris, not if you want to hide it from the boyfriends.
to jp i must lift up my glass -
the success of this fest kicks some ass!
not one breath of ‘nantucket’
nor boors who would ‘fuck it’ -
all y’all here got gotta whole buncha class.
oh, shit. ignore that extra ‘got.’ crap.
If Dowd’s titular question is literal,
(That superfluous are the non-clitoral)
And she really implies
That she’s sworn off of guys,
Then with whom will she go “quid-profiterole”?
(I mean “the guys”
Joolya,
I can delete both the original with the mistake, and the correction, if you’d like to give it another shot! -jp
Re: NYTimes article that women are NOT “opting out”:
http://www.nytimes.com/2006/03/15/opinion/15goldin.html?ex=1142571600&en=71ee1549bcf486c1&ei=5070
The girls aren’t leaving the office
Even mothering can’t really stop us
So whate’er’s you believe
Or what’s up your sleeve
We know there’s nothing to top us.
joolya, i am now constructing a limerick shrine in your honor at my career station.
The dentist will come to your aid
To repair all those cavities you’ve made.
She numbs ‘em and drills ‘em,
fills ‘em and bills ‘em,
And anxiously waits to get paid!
Georgie whose reign is a joke
Allegedly relapsed on coke
He fell off the chaise
And messed up his face
Said a pretzel had caused him to choke.
I woke in a mood mean and dour
My orange juice spoiled and sour
Waffles! I thought,
Would cheer me a lot,
though it seems I am quite out of flour!
Eccentric Elizabeth Maude
survived on a diet quite odd
she would only eat
pickled garlic, pigs’ feet,
and bits of dehydrated cod
A straw woman said to a strawman she met
One day on the internet
“Stay a way from those blogs -
They’ll throw you to the dogs
But they haven’t proved anything yet!”
Jesus came back one day
To find the world in complete disarray
He went to the White House
In the form of a mouse
And now he’s in GITMO they say
(now an old one my Brother and I made up - guess when?)
There once was a President Bill
Whose pants didn’t zip very well
He made a mess
Of a girl’s blue dress
And said “Don’t Ask - Don’t Tell!”
Before I was even a teen,
Got assaulted for not wearing green.
The teacher was fully
In league with the bully,
And I was the kid in between.
Dedicated to the Good Dr. B, from whence I came:
‘Tis nearly that time of the year
When the Peeps do begin to appear.
Though most think they’re groovy,
I find them quite spoogey
and quite likely to induce great fear.
Peeps are the best!
They beat all the rest
Of the seasonal candy.
They’re really quite dandy,
In their cute little green paper nest.
Damn! Foiled again.
it’s just about that time of year
when the skies begin to get clear
the sun starts to shine
like these eyes of mine
and people get filled with more cheer
but that’s not the only thing coming
there’s also the work so mind-numbing
sometimes it feels
like my brain just congeals
paper season’s often so bumming
Tex-Mex or pachuco is a border language where the user mixes Spanish with English to make a flavorful blend. Here’s my version:
Vigilantes siempre se buscan un Mexican border fence
Por que no se permiten undocumented immigrants
But in the news yesterday
Announced lots of oil in Mexico�s bay
Now nosotros vamos a “ayudar” Mexico’s poor government.
Translation: Vigilantes are seeking to build a Mexican border fence
Because they don’t want undocumented immigrants to enter (the U.S.)
But in the news yesterday
(There was) Announced lots of oil in Mexico�s bay
Now we are going to “help” the Mexican government.
Thanks ding! And thanks also, JP - you can leave it as is, as testament to my lack of proofreading skillz.
This morning I woke up at seven,
But I rolled into lab at eleven.
Though I’m eager to tell
That in most ways it’s hell,
In other ways grad school is heaven!
Sing Goddess the wrath of Achilles
And roast me some Hatch County chilies
If the heat is too great
Bring me heads on a plate
And hang Hector’s scalp from his willy
and now time for a gross-out!
The Life the Gives Bread Rise
My vajina burns, it’s so itchy
It’s making my temperment bitchy
Some yogurt I ate
Other treatments, my fate
Hope that others don’t see that I’m twitchy
There once was a baker named Kevin
Who couldn’t get his bread to leaven
He met his demise
While trying to rise
And was forever erected in heaven
‘Tis from Bitch PhD whence I came
And I here learned, much to my shame
That it’s been so long since writing
any limerick worth lighting
I can’t think of any th’aren’t lame!
I read about this and that germ
From virus to fungus to worm.
Especially heinous:
Some crawl out your anus.
What fun I am having this term!
My blog has been �down� for 3 days
I�m frustrated, what can I say?
The servers and filers
Are once-in-a-whilers
Please fix my poor blogspot today!
I looked at the cells I just plated
And I fear they are contaminated
By mysterious thingies
That turn cells to stringies!
Fuck science, dude, sometimes I hate it.
Georgie was happy as pie
The Iraqi war was flying high
But along came Katrina
You shuddah seen ‘er
Oh, his reign came to be such a lie!
There once was a miniscule ant
Who loved to rave and rant
Those around called for quiet
“Please, please stop the riot!”
But the little ant only stopped to pant
Leave your comment. Choose an identity.
That’s how easy it is. I invented me!
You just pick a persona
(Need not be your own-a)
And leave sinful poems unrepentedly!
A LATE MICHIGAN LIMERICK
Us folks from this part of the nation
All battle procrastinication.
(Also we’re cheaters
With verse’s metres –
We’re prone to syllabic inflation.)
in honor of rice etiquette:
my asian relatives despair
they feel like pulling their hair
although at the table they smile
they must find it unspeakably vile
the haole with fork seems not to care
I’m too tired to work now she said
And this conference just muddled my head
It’s St Patty’s Day
And I want to play
So I’m going to drink beer instead!
I once saw a rhyme for Dubai.
But the moment was short, it flew by.
So on to “hegemony”
Which rhymes with “anemone”
And that’s all there is, so goodbye.
Oh it’s hard out here for a Christ,
Making a redemptive sacrifice.
The labours of Zion
Fall to this scion
So make sure the story’s precise.
***
Said villagers to good Count Dracula,
“This castle is something spectacul-a.”
They were flogged and they flailed,
As they were impaled,
To be later cleaned up with a spatula.
Oh, it’s hard out here for a pimp.
The president, he looks like a chimp.
He serves as a puppet
For Cheney, evil Muppet�
His brain has gone wholly limp.
A lad whose love life was a mess
Kept up his chin nevertheless.
“Unsightly protuberance?
Can’t hurt my exuberance!”
But I can’t bear to tell you the rest.
***
The first line to write is the worst,
For the second must rhyme with the first.
The third and its sequel
Must sound about equal:
They’re the bubble the fifth line must burst.
You’ve rhythmed, you’ve rhymed, you’ve composed
You’re all winners here, don’t feel hosed
So I hereby decree
(by pow’r vested in me?)
that the fiesta o’ rhymes now be closed.
Please feel free to continue to post limericks here, especially if they’re sociopolitically important. I will announce the winners in a new post.
There once was a blogger named John
Who didn’t much care if the song
had more than one verse
or meaningful words
but it had to be just five lines long.
Good limericks are comic and terse
And unlike more serious verse
They’re not really good
Unless bad, and they could
Be much better by being much worse.
A Welshman who hails from Prestatyn
Has a wife who loves classical Latin.
He dresses, to please her,
As Julius Caesar
But he’d rather be General Patton.
“Scotch whiskey’s the finest on earth,”
Claimed a clansman of highlander birth.
He came down from the north
To the mouth of the Forth
Just to belt back a fifth on the firth.
An adventurous lad in Dun Laoghaire
Of his hometown became rather waoghaire
So he hitchhiked to Cork
Worked his way to New York
And grew old on the shores of Lake Aoghaire.
Coment deleted at author’s request /jpv