Lame 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 10:00 p.m. (Eastern Time.)
I hope you’ll join me in writing a limerick with this first line:
A gal who was terribly lame…*
or
A man made a joke that was lame…*
or
The plot of the movie was lame…*
or
The defense he presented was lame…*
or
A man whose excuses were lame…*
*(Please note that minor variations to my first lines are acceptable. However, rhyme words may not be altered, except by using homonyms or homophones.)
Here’s my limerick:
Lame Limerick
By Madeleine Begun Kane
A heel whose excuses were lame
Would always find someone to blame
For his life in the dregs.
But his claims had no legs,
And he ran out of folks to defame.
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, Poetry & Prompts, Writing Prompts
A fellow whose third leg went lame
decided he must quit the game
And so, Georgy-Porgy
departed the orgy
and nothing was ever the same
(alternate use of “lame”)
A man wearing all gold lame
described by some friends as flambé
A sartorial sense
devised in defense
from going AWOL in Bombay
Do you want to know what I think’s lame?
I’m sick of our Congress’ game.
Are political folk
In all countries a joke?
I’ll bet Poland has more of the Sejm.
Sejm
The comic made jokes that were lame.
“I’ll tell you why Caesar’s my name:
I was set in a whirl
By this beautiful girl –
I saw her, I conquered, and came.”
The fireman was limping and lame;
He’d been caught by his wife with a dame.
As she beat up the slob,
He explained: “It’s my job –
I just had to spray an old flame.”
“Your honour, my client is lame”
Said the lawyer, presenting his claim.
“Had he drunk just one keg less
He wouldn’t be legless;
The brewery’s wholly to blame.”
The unfortunate child is lame,
For his father has quite missed his aim.
The boy’s leg needs repair,
But the apple’s still there;
Who will tell us the crossbowman’s name?
Said the judge, “Your excuses are lame;
The girl you abused now feels shame,
And can still taste the drips
That you forced through her lips,
Mr Clinton – if that is your name.”
She looked hot, but in bed she was lame;
Though I’d tried every move in the game,
Going north, going south,
When she opened her mouth
It was only to say “That was tame.”
The hunter was partially lame,
But continued to slaughter big game,
For a lion had eaten
The leg that, unbeaten,
He hoped he would one day reclaim.
A man’s poor excuses were lame.
It was over-work he would claim,
When times he didn’t call;
Not contact her at all.
But she would forgive just the same.
A sweet gal was terribly lame
In her grasp of slang-what a shame.
She had a big “booty”,
She was quite a cutie!
She thought it meant illicit gain.
A pol whose excuses were lame
Had refused to really take blame.
“Is a blow job sex,
Or just second-best?”
They voted him in, just the same.
His reason for leaving was lame
He left work before the big game
“I have to go quick,
Or else I’ll be sick.
I have, ummm, imminent ptomaine.”
The colt started coming up lame
while racing the Sport of Kings game
but forward he’d run
no vet with a gun
would ever get his chance to aim
A man whose excuses were lame
Was caught as he ran a con game.
He was taken to court
Said he did it for sport.
But was jailed for a month just the same.
The defense he presented was lame
He did it for fun he’d declaim.
The judge not impressed
In his sentence expressed
“You have only yourself to blame.”
A gal who was terribly lame
Got involved in a crooked card game.
She lost all her clothes
Was stripped head to toes
“Who knew it was fixed’ she would claim.
A gal who is terribly lame
and who I won’t mention by name
was maimed in the bed
her knees pinned to her head
and wouldn’t you know, I’m to blame
They said that the lady was lame
And more epithets not so tame
She weathered it all
And took not a fall
She ran marathon to her fame
A gal who was terribly lame
Lived in poverty, loneliness, shame.
‘Til the Halloween crawl
Pub to pub at the mall
Brought her interviews, podcasts, and fame.
Is Writing a Limerick Lame?
Writing a limerick’s lame,
If you’re seeking to garner much fame,
And you’ll never make money
Even if it is funny,
‘Cause folks think they all sound the same.
But claim that my limerick’s lame,
Then you’re playing a dangerous game.
Because when it’s done,
You will see by my pun,
That your dumb ass will not be the same.
And insist that my limerick’s lame?
Then you’re really missing the aim.
A limerick’s frisky
Like good Irish whiskey,
Or shall we soberly put you to shame?
Writer’s Village.
Dear Madeleine,
Please change the link to:
The Writer’s Village
Thanks. Sorry for the error. Randy
(Note from Mad Kane: Done. :) )
Brigitte’s lingerie isn’t lame,
But that’s what her posts oft proclaim.
I declare here today
That she’s hot in lamé.
It’s that accent aigu that’s to blame!
Mother’s sister is just a bit lame
But she has quite a powerful frame.
She encountered a mugger
And laid out the bugger.
Since then she’s been called “Auntie Maim.”
Not to sample new foods is just lame.
It gets bland having more of the same.
You should try: · Ostrich legs
· Curried Cadbury eggs
· Pickled beetles on goat brains aflame.
“My dear Bo, you’re a tiny bit lame
And your socks are what’s told Mum the same.
I’ve marked them quite well
But you still can not tell
Your Rs from your Ls, Bo. For shame!”
My boss, he tells jokes that are lame.
“You’re so funny!” I falsely proclaim.
That’s the way it must go
until I’m CEO
and can give him a dose of the same!
“I married a man named Dick Lame.
After 35 years, the day came.
When he went to insert,
His lame dick was inert–
Seems he finally lived up to his name!”
She’d had it, her dates were all lame.
The last straw was a fellow with fame.
He ‘seemed’ like a winner,
She cooked him a dinner,
But he left, just as soon as he came.
My TV has a setting that’s lame.
It’s a shame they mislabeled the name.
I set “brightness” to “max”
And then gave a few whacks,
But intelligence stayed just the same.
My then wife’s hearing went lame
And even more of a shame,
She ran off with a brute
From the Ear Institute
I ignored all the signs, I’m to blame
The old guy’s phone skills aren’t lame
He’s adept at the whole iphone game
He messages his chums
Using both of his thumbs.
He’s ambi-text-rous, he’d claim
His defense of his actions was lame:
REVERSE-ITIS, that was to blame!
This rare mental blight
made him think wrong is right
and affected his whole mind of frame.
A fellow, incredibly lame,
Cried in rapturous joy when he came:
“I love you, Liz, madly!”
It ended quite badly
‘Cause Elizabeth wasn’t her name.
The defense he presented was lame,
so the barrister sat down in shame.
The judge said quite kindly
The law treats us blindly
So come see me to help change your name.
I won’t say my morals are lame
I just couldn’t stop with this dame
Tho’ I’ve changed much of late,
Cuz she didn’t menstruate
My address, phone number, and name
Their huge tennis bet wasn’t lame
The winner got the gal and the fame
The young buck was brash
But the old pro could smash
And pummeled him, set, match, then dame
This poem may totally be lame
With only the poet to blame
His minds a conduit
With words running through it
Too much gas and it backfires in flame
In attempting to not appear lame
A physicist a problem did frame
He explored some string theory
Until twisted and weary
He muttered, ”It’s all knot the same!”
The excuse is always so lame
“It’s society, not me, that’s to blame!”
We get what we reap
Need not follow like sheep
Responsibility for our actions, we should claim
His grounds for failure were quite lame
Craftily deflecting the blame
She bored him in bed
Never gave good head
Hence the reason he never came
In the dark ages, doctors were lame.
They would bleed sick old women that came
For their help ’til the snag,
“You can’t leech an old hag
With new ticks” was learned, much to their shame.
His way with the ladies was lame
For a player who thought he had game.
After once in the sack
They rarely came back;
Most departed, but nobody came.
Said a woman: “I think it is lame
How the men always want to proclaim
That they’re driving me wild,”
She ruefully smiled,
“When the whole thing is terribly tame.”
“My entries this week are too lame,”
Thought a poet of national fame.
“I’ll post ’em,” said he,
“Pseudonymously,
Instead of on top of my name.”
The plot of the movie was lame,
Though the lead had a notable name.
He was wider than tall.
His last words – “And to all
A good night,” he was heard to exclaim.
His old flame said his loving was lame.
He denied that his aim was to blame.
But the dame said he missed
When he came – she was pissed.
She claimed more of the same was his game.
His response – it was pointed, not lame
When confronted with “Hey. what’s your name?”
More polite was his task,
So “I’m Puddin’ Tame, ask
Me again and I’ll tell you the same.”
Jack and Jill neither were lame
Fetching water turned into a game
So Jack went for the ‘Y’
Got a bone in his eye
For Jilly was never a dame
And the winner is…
Congratulations to the Limerick of the Week Winner and the Honorable Mention Winners: Limerick of the Week 182.
But you can still have lots of limerick fun because a new Limerick-Off has just begun: Trim Limerick.