Lymerick

There once was a man who cried"Whoa!
Trump is dumber than six tons of coal!
Each time he opens his mouth
His brain goes further south
Last sighted somewhere near the South Pole!

There once was a sinner who said,
“They’re exhausting!” He’s staying in bed
While the heavenly day
With sweet bliss blows away
Leaving darkness to hold him instead.

There once was a brute named Beelzebub
Who was badder than bad but still a schlub
His only goal
To steal your soul
He's half man, half beast, sporting a half chub

The devil needs naughty for fuel
But an angel is nice as a rule.
When an angel is smoking
The devils start choking
Frustrated she’s no moron’s fool.

There once was an angel Moroni
Who sprung from the loins of Nephi
The days were olden
The plates were golden
But it's a history I don't buy

An angel is typically smart
And so cute you might dream she’s a tart.
A devil is not
Very different. He’s got
One defect you won’t miss should he fart.

There once was a posse comitatus
'round the fire in a huge cloud of flatus
Their only means
The pork and beans
And thinking it's time for a hiatus

There once was a goy from Dahlonega
Who went by the name of Veronica
She said this much
Merry Christmas
And to all, a most Happy Hanukkah

Merry Christmas! Sweet Santa forgot
All the stuff on my list I ain’t got.
Even love! On my list!
At the bottom. He missed
Even love--not expecting a lot.

There once was a candidate named Cruze
Who was certain that he could not loose
He's on the telly
With Megan Kelly
Demonstrating the art of the schmooze

If Jeb bush wants people to clap
perhaps he shouldn't talk crap,
with G.W. as his mentor
he's a solid three percentor
And a long way from a victory lap.

I think that I might like this place.
It seems that y'all make a space
To have you some fun,
And you don't scorn a pun
And nobody's right in your face.

There once was a zombie who said,
“It’s fun with the lights out, undead.”
Not sentient? “No.”
Esurient? “So?
We’re hungry and like our meat red.”

Edit: After searching, it looks like someone beat me to the idea: http://zombieburgerdm.com/

My brain has been eaten once more
And I don’t know what I’m browsing for,
But I simply won’t stop
Though my mind wants to pop
And the pixels pick nits till I’m sore.

There once was a candidate named Trump
Who yelled and screamed while out on the stump
His hair was ambitious
And method seditious
His goal to make you the rich man's chump

On the porch at night I babble away to the moon
And then the world wakes up from their bedside tune
It's particularly amusing
Dawn and still confusing
Hold on to that thought, I might need to sleep soon

There once was a candidate named Jeb!
Friend of Billy Yank and Johnny Reb
Brother of Dubya
How's that rub ya?
Cos the voters interest seemed to ebb

^
I know...

Field Artillery

Then of course there is Hillary
Object of fierce GOP pillory
Friend of Obama
So, who's yo mama?
In the end we'll prolly get Billary

He's not worried about our nation's debts
Puts on a suit and gets the sweats
Not a chauvinist
A democratic socialist
Bu...Bu...Bu...Bernie and the Jets




*El Sancho listens to the classic rock station

I think I will write myself in,
An American way to begin
To get more attention,
Although I won't mention
I hope I don’t actually win.

My blood runs cold and my arse does pucker
My fellow Americans, don't be a sucker
Vote for Sancho
Not for Yesno
Because it's well known he is a pig ...

My platform is solid and true:
Even pigs should be called people, too.
Sure, they do funny things
And the thought of them brings
Me to bacon, but what can I do?

My opponent's platform is impractical
His claim of competence is laughable
Vote for Sancho
Not for YesNo
He has carnal knowledge of a farm animal

Carnal knowledge one need not resist.
Everyone needs a someone they’ve kissed
And if they’ve more than one
Then that complicates fun.
Politicians calm people they’ve pissed.

Then I propose an alliance
A ticket of mutual reliance
It'll require heart
A very dark art
Or at least a most strange science

Bedfellows only want rest.
The kinkier stuff I like best:
On the floor, up the wall,
Upside down till they fall--
True love must be put to the test.

There once was a fellow named Biddle
Whose favorite pastime was to diddle
He once opined
That he didn't mind
Being on top, bottom, or in the middle

hi everyone---im not too bad at limericks but I am thinking of trying to write some other forms of rhyming poetry. I was searching through a literature handbook I have and im convinced that overall, poetry can be pretty complicated and someone could probably get a four year degree in just that!

im wondering, along the lines of "I wanna walk before you make me run"---what a next easy step in the poem writing process might be? quatrains look doable.

I like quatrains even better than limericks. Although they are constrained by four lines with varied meters and rhyme schemes, one can say a lot with few words.

They would work with any of the poetry contests here, perhaps, even the avant-garde one. Those contests are excuses to practice writing something using a prompt.

I'll be the first to admit I don't get most poetry. I have a subscription to The New Yorker and read all the poems they print each week, but I'm usually left scratching my head - just sitting in my reading chair, with the furled-brow expression of a chimpanzee looking at a hydrostatic transmission.

At any rate, probably, a limerick is to a sonnet what a sea shanty is to a piano sonata.

A limerick is one for the masses
For folks of all types and classes
Not the best of us
But the rest of us
A chance to shine our collective asses

Some poetry’s like a dog’s bone.
It’s best if you leave it alone
Or bury it deep
Lest it put you to sleep
Or worse make you read it and moan.

The monster who’s under my bed
Runs mysterious dreams through my head,
Makes me wake up and yawn
But at dawn he is gone
Like a word thought but then left unsaid.

I thought I might kick this off again. I am a poet and song writer but thought I might give it a go here.

I knew a girl from Ceduna
That liked eating canned Tuna
She died the other day
In a horrible way
But I'm really glad that I knew her.


Oh well, back to writing poetry. :)

Nice one!

The tuna stuffed tight in that can
Could kill a respectable man
...

I may have to sleep on that one and see if something pops to mind in the morning.

There once was a fellow from Philly
Who like to dress in things frilly
He went to a doc
Who cut off his ****
Now Billy from Philly goes by Lily

The tuna stuffed tight in the can
Was restless to watch a new man.
Would he take a quick bite?
Swallow wine with delight?
Just one look from her--he’ll understand.

There was young guy from Laguna
Who preferred fresh ahi tuna
Of fish in a can
He was not a fan
So he'd rather eat later than soon-ah

It looks like we’re buried too deep.
Reality hints we’re asleep,
But we think we’re awake.
All the truth we can’t take
Makes us laugh since we’d rather not weep.

That lymrick fails Sancho's cognition
It's a most convoluted rendition
It's gotta be art
Exceedingly smart
So let's just call it "The Human Condition"