Urbane Limerick (Limerick-Off Monday)
It’s Limerick-Off time, once again. And that means I write a limerick, and you write your own, using the same first line. Then you post your limerick here and, if you’re a Facebook user, on Facebook too.
The best submission will be crowned Limerick Of The Week. (Here’s last week’s Limerick Of The Week Winner.)
How will your poems be judged? By meter, rhyme, cleverness, and humor. (If you’re feeling a bit fuzzy about limerick writing rules, here’s my How To Write A Limerick article.)
I’ll announce the Limerick of the Week Winner next Sunday, right before I post next week’s Limerick-Off. So that gives you a full week to submit your clever, polished verse. Your submission deadline is Saturday at 11:59 p.m. (Eastern Time.)
I hope you’ll join me in writing a limerick with this first line:
A man who was rather urbane…*
or
A gal who was rather urbane…*
*(Minor variations to my first lines are acceptable, but rhyme words may not be altered.)
Here’s my limerick:
Urbane Limerick
By Madeleine Begun Kane
A man who was rather urbane
Mocked pop culture as trite and inane.
He did it in song —
Twas a hit before long.
His disdainful refrain now makes rain.
Please feel free to write your own limerick using the same first line and post it in my comments. And if you’re on Facebook, I hope you’ll join my friends in that same activity on my Facebook Limerick-Off post.
To receive an email alert whenever I post a new Limerick-Off, please email Madkane@MadKane.com Subject: MadKane’s Newsletter. Thanks!
Tags: Competition Limerick, Limerick Challenge, Limerick Contest, Music Limerick, Poetry & Prompts, Pop Culture, Rain Making Humor, Song Writing, Sophistication Humor, Urbanity, Writing Prompts
A man who was rather urbane
Wrote lim’ricks, but it was a pain.
His lims were the worst
But at least he was first
And for that we can break out champagne.
A man who was rather urbane
Thought his lim’ricks did better in Spain.
But sea air wouldn’t do,
So to Paris he flew.
In the end they just found him… in Seine.
An Irishman, not so urbane,
To get his Lim up first did strain
But tho’ fame briefly beckoned
It appeared only second :(
P’raps a Guinness may help ease his pain? ;)
OR, more correctly I see …
An Irishman, not so urbane,
To get his Lim up first did strain
But tho’ fame briefly beckoned
He didn’t even make second :( :(
P’raps a Guinness may help ease his pain? ;)
A man who was rather urbane
Wooed women with charm and champagne
They were all so impressed
That they quickly undressed
And none were heard to complain.
A man who was rather urbane
Strong emotion, he never would deign
And he felt like a hick
To be in this lim’rick
But was far too genteel to complain
A man who was rather urbane
Wrote limericks that were purely profane.
From filth up to crudeness
And sex up to prudness
No two were ever the same.
A man who was rather urbane
Fell in love with Ms Plain Jane.
Opposites attract
Quite true, in fact
They proved the saying all over again.
A man who was rather urbane
Was driven to levels insane.
His Ferragamo’s he scuffed
And they couldn’t be buffed
To Italy he flew on a private jet plane.
A gal who was rather urbane
Met a man on a private jet plane
Said “my place or yours”
For delightful amours
But scuffed Ferragamos caused her passion to wane.
A man who was rather urbane,
Would drive his poor girl friend insane,
Their sex wouldn’t last,
He finished too fast,
She now prowls the lesbo domain.
A man who was rather urbane
At da Vinci he’d finally deplane.
He went to a store
Threw scuffed shoes on the floor
A new pair set his gal’s heart aflame.
A man who was rather urbane
Bought a bottle of costly champagne.
On the very top floor
He knocked on the door
Of the suite of love lost to reclaim.
.
A gal who was rather urbane
Imbibed of the costly champagne
When her senses she lost
Good behavior she tossed
And became so profane, drove her lover insane
A man who was rather urbane
Made is wife pop a vein
For each day
He’d go the wrong way
And board the opposite train
a man who was rather urbane
slowly slipped mentally insane
he lost his way
each and every day
connections reversed in his brain
A woman who was rather urbane
Lost her wedding ring down the sink drain
She called up her plumber, but
She should have kept her mouth shut
“The trap with the gold is his domain”
A baker all thought was urbane,
Baked bagels both seeded and plain.
But after one bite,
So fluffy and light,
We wondered, was he from Lorraine?
*** BASED ON A TRUE STORY:
In the late eighties, Madeleine and I had occasion to stay at the
“Le Boston Meriden Hotel(now The Langham)” for five weeks,
and had gotten to know the staff quite well.
One Sunday Morning, the french chef, knowing we were real “New Yorkers”,
announced quite excitedly that he had a special treat for us.
He had just baked “Bagels” for the very first time and wanted our honest
opinion of them.
When he brought us a bowl of his new creation we were as excited
as he was.
They were a sight to behold. The very image of perfect “Bagels”.
He had arranged them so artfully, the egg, leaning against the pumpernickel,
the plain, sandwiched between the poppy and sesame.
And he waited, with bated breath, the head french chef of this respected institution
as we took our first bite.
And they smelled devine (In fact, a little too good for a bagel).
That was our first clue, something was amiss.
They smelled too damn good, like Croissants or Danish.
But then our first bite confirmed our worst fears.
These were good! Very good!
Delicious in fact, but NOT BAGELS!
We told him as gently as we could where he had failed.
A “Bagel” needs to be solid, and chewy, and a bit heavy, after
having it’s dough boiled a bit before baking.
These were feathery light!
I don’t think he ever attempted “Bagels” again.
A guy who was rather urbane
Sniffed a line of the purest cocaine.
He felt so delighted
While acting be(k)nighted
He started to reign on the plane.
A man who was rather urbane
Had a limp, and walked with a cane
Said, “tis not a factor
I went to a chiropractor
And now I’m on top of my game.”
My accountant is smart and urbane.
He knows tricks that can hide any gain.
His skills are so clear
That he’s known around here
As the Master of Ledger-demain.
A man who was rather urbane,
wondered how he got a stain,
on his favorite bed spread,
then his manservant said,
“Robin did that, Mr. Wayne.”
A rancher who’s very urbane
Gives his cattle a sip of champaign
From a glass, not a trough,
Before sending them off
To the slaughter by passenger train.
A man who was rather urbane
attempted to speak like John Wayne
His wife, name of Mavis
said, “That’s Bette Davis!”
His impressions caused her some pain
A man who was rather urbane
Found a lady whose talk was profane,
And found the solution
To her elocution
Was rain on the plain down in Spain.
A man who was rather urbane
Rode from Russia with Love on a train.
As you’ve probably heard,
He was shaken, not stirred
In Never Say Never Again.
A man who was rather urbane
Could scarcely control his disdain
For wine-swilling English
Who couldn’t distinguish
Spumante from Sekt or Champagne.
A blogger was rather urbane,
As resignedly he would explain
To the dull and the dim,
Less enlightened than him,
The ways of the world, once again.
She thought the guy looked quite urbane
Chiseled features and long flowing mane.
But her hopes all went south
When he opened his mouth
And he grunted “Me Tarzan, you Jane.”
A lim writer, rather urbane,
Wins this contest again and again.
The secret to this
Is to know how to kiss
The behind of one Madeleine Kane.
A gal who was rather urbane
From coarse language. was taught to refrain
So she wouldn’t say f#$k
but with modicum l#$k
She would do it again and again
There once was a poet urbane
And Queens was her royal domain.
In limericks numerous,
Her rhymes oh-so-humorous
Provoked like a poke from a cane.
There once was an artist urbane,
Avant-guard in the past, now mundane.
To reignite interest,
He posted on Pinterest
A shock-value, cock weathervane.
A dude who was wicked urbane
dropped his drawers & went to find Jane
…ok that’s enough. Smut. hehe. I don’t claim to be a great Limericker. But I have a challenge for you, Mad, concerning writing a story in six words… in the footsteps of teh great Hemingway… love your SOH
Luke xx
A man who was rather urbane
would oft stroll with an antique sword-cane.
Once, a mugger attacked
so this man did react
with a jab in a similar vein.
A man who was rather urbane
but had talents of legerdemain
was so debonair
he’d pick pockets with flair
while sipping on Heidsieck champagne.
A man who was rather urbane
(and secretly, rather profane,)
would swear with panache
at high tea or at squash
since he elegantly couldn’t abstain.
A man who was rather urbane
boarded a train they named Blaine
In this Stephen King scene
he sang “5:15”
going out of his brain on a train!
An ape man who acted urbane
was driving himself half insane
He thought “what the hell”
and did his famed yell
but nowhere could he find his Jane!
A gal who was rather urbane
Picked the wrong line of work, it is plain
With her stylish ‘do’s
And her tasteful flat shoes
Without mini and heels, men weren’t payin’
A man who was rather urbane,
Impeccably coiffed, and quite vain
Loved his well-moneyed mentors
Loathed 47 percenters
And watched his White House hopes spin down the drain
There once was a man so urbane
That his hubris was really a pain
But one day when he farted
The hauteur departed
Now he’s treated with utmost disdain
a gal who was rather urbane
had a dog that was quite insane
about running around
on green grass and ground
& when they moved (to the countryside) he was fire & flame
A man who was rather urbane,
Seducing each gal with Champagne.
While drunk they’d indulge,
His randy hard bulge,
But sober they’d always abstain.
A man who was rather urbane,
Fell flat on his nose in the rain.
He said ‘Well, I’m dashed!
These trousers are splashed!
I don’t think I’ll wear them again!’
My dog who is rather urbane
Thinks trips to the woods are a pain,
Just tree trunks and bugs
with NO hydrant plugs.
He lifts up his leg in disdain.
A king who was rather urbane
Decreed that, throughout his domain,
The marching brigades
Must practice their trades
If they want to parade on his reign.
A driver is very urbane
With a girl in the second chicane
But the look on her face
Shows he’s not in the race
Ans his efforts are not worth the pain.
A professor, so very urbane,
To his students would always explain
Advanced economics
By means of Ebonics:
“What up Keynes, you know what I’m sayin’?”
A seducer was not so urbane
With a wench who was painfully plain:
(“Though the urgency’s now,
I’ll soon disavow
This gal, whom to conquer I deign.”)
A quick limerick since you linked d’Verse Poets to this post:
A poet was once though very urbane
On poetry sites she never complained
Alway feigning to understand
Poems vague, rambling or bland
Resulting in the atrophy of her brain
Not all folks with haute couture are inhumane…but,
The couple was rather urbane
Would drown if they went out in the rain
The gal and the fella
Wouldn’t hold their own umbrella
Their noses held high with false strain!
A gal who was very urbane
insisted on clothes that were plain.
She wore nary a ruffle
and raised a kerfuffle
when Chanel showed a dress with a train.
Hi Mad! Thanks for your kind words! k.
A gal thought she was urbane
While wearing a frock, Jenni Kayne
But she was outdone
By a Louis Vuitton
So she booked the next Air France plane
The man who was rather urbane
Fled to the capital of Spain.
And the reason he hid
Over there in Madrid:
Shoddy fiscal legerdemain.
Malinda is hardly urbane,
In fact, she’s homely and plain.
Her mouth is atrocious,
She has halitosis.
But none of that matters to Duane.
Homage:
A pris’ner unu’shly urbane
(Of the life of the warden the bane):
He git by his wit
Down a river of shit:
On to freedom sailed Andy Dufresne.
A man who was rather urbane
Took his girl to Paree, but in vain.
He proposed; she declined
And he flat lost his mind.
Now he’s jumped off a bridge. He’s inSeine!
A man who was very urbane
Was seldom seen minus his cane.
Oh, should I have said,
“Think Ginger and Fred”?
I’m dancing down Memory Lane!
And old fart who none thought urbane
enjoyed whacking shins with his cane.
The knees and the feet
weren’t such a treat
but shin whacks caused cool shrieks of pain!
While thinking himself most urbane
Joe watched the moon wax and wane
He said to dear Janet,
“That there ain’t no planet.
but cross-eyed I can see its’ twain!”
A publisher, not too urbane,
Desired a war against Spain.
This journalist yellow
Proceeded to bellow,
“Let’s get ‘em! Remember the Maine!”
This guy, the reverse of urbane,
Was aimed at political gain.
And there he was heading
But he hit some rough sledding
When Welles released “Citizen Kane.”
He was never described as urbane
He was grunge- and fans didn’t complain
His life was pure trauma
But he made Nirvana
‘til suicide killed Kurt Cobain
A man who was rather urbane
And had style with words he preferred plain
Wrote Tom Sawyer, Huck Finn
His great quotes make us grin
Sam preferred to be known as Mark Twain
Cary Grant was a star quite urbane
On the screen he drove women insane
His absolute best?
Hitchcock’s North by Northwest
Sat on faces– such thrilling terrain!
A tense woman appeared quite urbane
In her seat towards the back of the plane
‘Til the engines did grind
(She did, too- to unwind)
And re-joined the Mile High Club again
A man who was hardly urbane,
With a boner he couldn’t maintain,
Warned, “Stay calm, when we screw,
If you hear ‘chugga choo;
Open up for the big choo choo train.’”
A man who is rather urbane
Is balding and wants to attain
More hair on his head.
A sculler friend said
The elegant method: Row-gain.
A man whose tastes weren’t urbane,
Eschewed meals he thought were too plain.
“All food that’s been canned,
I think should be banned,
except maybe not Chicken Chow Mein.”
A gal who was rather urbane
Was pulling a biker club train.
She said “I like that
But you guys are too fat
And should go on a diet again.” :-)
Here’s one for geeks of a certain age:
James Kirk was extremely urbane;
From space chicks he’d never abstain.
He just couldn’t master
That cosmic disaster:
The episode known as “Spock’s Brain.”
Your limericks are very urbane
All about Tarzan and Jane
But the trouble with mine
When I’m trying to shine
Is they give me a terrible pain.
A man who is really urbane
Will politely converse, without strain,
With a dullard, a bore,
A tramp, or a whore,
Never showing ennui or disdain.
A student was very urbane
When asked “Are you using your brain?”
And the problem got worse
And went into reverse
When student gave teacher the cane.
A man who is not too urbane
Delayed posting this half writ refrain
A schlemiel and a schmuck
He just ran out of luck
Finding rhyming words not too profane
A man who was rather urbane
Looked at all others with distain
With his nose in the air
and high falutin’ flair,
he walked in front of a train
Thanks so much everyone for your fun limericks. This Limerick-Off is officially over. And the winner is…
Congratulations to the Limerick of the Week Winner, the Facebook Friends’ Choice Award Winner, and the Honorable Mention Winners: Limerick of the Week 91.
But you can still have lots of limerick fun because a new Limerick-Off has just begun: Limerick Doc.