Limerick-Off Monday – Rhyme Word: LEWD or ELUDE or ALLUDE at the end of Line 1 or 2 or 5
It’s Limerick-Off time, once again. And that means I write a limerick, and you write your own, using the same rhyme word. Then you post your limerick as a comment to this post and, if you’re a Facebook user, on Facebook too.
I hope you’ll join me in writing a limerick using either LEWD or ELUDE or ALLUDE at the end of Line 1 or Line 2 or Line 5. (Homonyms or homophones are fine.)
The best submission will be crowned Limerick-Off Award Winner. (Here’s last week’s Limerick-Off Award Winner.)
Additionally, you may write a themed limerick related to sleep and/or insomnia, using any rhyme scheme. And of course I’ll present an extra award — one for the best sleep/insomnia-related limerick.
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 winners on January 10, 2016, right before I post the next Limerick-Off. So that gives you two full weeks to submit your clever, polished verse. Your submission deadline is Saturday, January 9, 2016 at 10:00 p.m. (Eastern Time.)
Here’s my limerick:
An actress deserved to be booed
For behavior decidedly lewd,
But she paid little price
For her crudity vice
Till revealing, “I think I’m a dude.”
Please feel free to write your own limerick(s) using the same rhyme word 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: Actress Humor, Competition Limerick, Lewd Limerick, Limerick Challenge, Limerick Contest, Poetry & Prompts, Writing Prompts
–
The Karma Sutra is frequently viewed
As wicked, licentious and lewd.
But it’s simply recounting
How a consensual mounting,
Should start, progress and conclude.
My limericks often are lewd,
And sometimes they tend to be crude.
There’s a warped part of me,
And I say with much glee,
I am glad with this mind I’m imbued.
Some people are really quite lewd,
Disgusting, perverted, and crude.
I do think you’ll agree,
You’ve these traits, just like me,
So I think you’re a very fine dude.
For his birthday, a man who’s no prude
Said, “My birthday cake’s saying things lewd.”
I asked, “Will you show me?”
The candles said, “Blow me!”
And the cake replied, “Eat me!” How crude!
A guy whose behavior was lewd
Tried seduction with erotic food
Raw oysters would do
Rich, dark chocolates, too;
Fine wines to create the love mood.
To what do you mean to allude
When you say I have great aptitude
In all things exotic
Not being neurotic..
What else can one really conclude?
A gal who ate only health food
Tried not to have pleasure elude
With her food restrictions,
Those craving addictions!
She needed steadfast fortitude.
The Pompeii wall frescoes are lewd.
They’re skillful in erotic mood.
The cock sculptures arise
To a rather large size
One’s confounded by their magnitude.
Jack seemed to allude
That I was somewhat lewd
My ankle was showing
With my unknowing
A “no no” at Parish of St. Jude
not a duplicate
The Deacon seemed to allude
That I was somewhat lewd
My ankle was showing
Without my knowing
(A “no-no at Parish St Jude)
I always try not to be lewd,”
‘Cause that could be really crude,
But try as I might,
I just have to fight
When I’m in a really bad mood.
To what do you really allude
When you’re in a very bad mood?
You try to be nice
And give some advice,
But really you think you were screwed.
The times that I try to elude
Are those where I seem to be crude.
But try as I might,
I end up in a fight,
And come across nothing but lewd.
If Santa had ever been booed,
It wasn’t because of the food,
But one time he was,
And that was because
He thought that the chimneys were crude.
You should not elude
Or forget to invite Ms. Jude
She loves when there are three
To her it’s a jubilee
And she has the “just right” turpitide
You should not elude
Or forget to invite Ms. Jude
She loves when there are three
To her it’s a jubilee
And she has the “just right” turpitude
The limerick mistress is shrewd
To suggest that that our verses be lewd
And allude to our privies,
Or privates, or skivvies,
With words excremental and crude.
The last time I had tried to be lewd
With fun limericks of great turpitude
It got out of hand
Not what I had planned.
So I hesitate now to be crude.
The farmers work hard to grow food,
Which gives them the right to talk lewd?
The thing that I missed,
Is why they insist,
They want me to walk around nude.
When things at night start getting lewd
And I’m having fun…”Don’t stop, Dude!”
I think I won’t sleep
Such feelings I reap
Then drift off in blissful gratitude.
There was a young stripper from Bude
Who appeared on the stage in the nude.
She smothered her nipples
In raspberry ripples.
And the rest of her act was quite lewd.
Permit me, dear friends, to allude
To a novel considered quite rude.
“Lady Chatterley’s Lover”
(As the world would discover)
Was erotic; exotic; not lewd.
The party had gotten quite lewd
And she felt that she had to elude
The guy who had chased her
And tried to debase her
With the actions to which he’d allude.
The other night when I was stewed,
I thought I would try something lewd.
So I found a young lady
Who looked like aunt Sadie
That’s when I got badly unglued.
A schoolboy who was very rude
And whose language was always quite crude
Was by other boys rushed
And was ducked and then flushed
In the toilet ( which meant he’d been loo-ed).
A beverage that’s properly brewed
Can make you do things
That are lewd.
But if it’s too gassy,
You’ll stop being classy.
And make sounds that some would call crude.
My husband is not at all lewd
He doesn’t like to be pursued
He lies on the bed
As if he were dead
Why the hell did I marry a prude?
The worrisome thoughts
Reality intruder
That prevents my sleep.
You’re alluring and extremely lewd
You have the perfect attitude
For a sensual dame
With no prudish shame
(Oh, how I love to be wooed!)
The Kama Sutra is enticingly lewd
It’s not a book for a prude
You can stand on your head
Until you drop dead
Oh, how I love to do what’s tabooed
When your toes fall asleep, I suppose
That the blood circulation, it slows.
But the digits aren’t dead,
So I call them, instead,
By a term that is apt: comatose.
After closing my eyes, counted sheep
And fell into a slumber quite deep.
Dreamed The Hobbit I wrote;
My wife quickly did note
That I simply was Tolkien in my sleep.
There once was a wave in a lake;
Fell asleep, which was quite a mistake.
When a speedboat came by,
He woke up and did sigh,
“It appears that right now I’m a wake.”
Here’s advice; couples, take it to heart.
Sleep on water bed? No, please don’t start.
That particular bed
Should be viewed with much dread,
‘Cause quite soon you’ll be drifting apart.
The pillowcase cloth, I’m afraid,
Is corduroy, so I’m dismayed.
When I lie down to sleep,
Indentations quite deep
Are left. That’s how headlines are made.
Getting piglets to sleep’s not a chore
For their father, who sits on the floor
By their bed. Tales he’ll spin
When his offspring turn in.
They nod off ’cause their daddy’s a boar.
When I thought about sleep, I supposed
That no matter the way that I posed,
I’d sleep naturally.
It’s so easy for me,
I could do it with both my eyes closed.
Evelyn was feeling quite lewd
While Rudy was there in the mood
Down in the boat house
She made her man grouse
By starting the old Ev-in-Rude
When our politicians collude
It’s the people who always get screwed
Whether losing our rights
Or more middle class blights
More voters become jaded and hued
Who we elect, does not matter, Dude
More gun barrels are hollowed and blued
We know what’s in store
As we look down the bore
And to even question it is somehow crude
Even if we find them all nude
In a brothel or restroom screwed
They still get elected
We get more dejected
Oh the stink that these A-holes exude!
It all started when a chad did protrude
And the Supremes, they all came unglued
As the neo-cons rule
Peace is now uncool
Endless war was ushered in as the mood
When we run out of shelter and food
And we’re all praying to old St. Jude
Anarchy will rein
It all seems insane
Change now, or this will be certitude
Crass behavior, decidedly crude.
Only now we are learning this dude
Served up drinks and a pill
But stuck them with the Bill.
You see how we both used allude?
Inspired to conduct most lewd
By Billy Squire’s “Stroke Me” etude.
I was driving the car.
She was going too far.
Her folks cried from the back, ”How Rude”.
The family audience eschewed
His Mother Goose, finding it lewd.
A pantomime dame
Can get a bad name
By playing full-frontally nude.
A LITTLE MORE NAUGHTY
The Kama Sutra is enticingly lewd
It’s not a book for the prude
You can stand on your head
Until you drop dead
And miraculously still get screwed
Before bed, eating hot spicy food
Means that once again, sleep will elude.
I toss and I turn.
My intestines, they burn.
If I don’t change my habits,
I’m screwed.
He said I was delightfully lewd
Especially when in the nude
We got into bed
He seemed to play dead
Another shmo with ineptitude
I heard my friends allude
That I have never been screwed
I wear the proper nun’s garb
My last name’s Goldfarb
You see, I’m a hopeless prude
Be smart and try to elude
Anyone who seems to be lewd
I tried it one day
He had the nerve to say,
“Sorry, I’m not in the mood”
I’ve learned that one should never write
A limerick when it’s late at night.
Too charged up to sleep!
Words dance, whirl, and leap
Still basking in pleasant delight.
A little more naughty
The Kama Sutra is enticingly lewd
It’s not a book for the exceedingly prude
You can stand on your head
Until you drop dead
And miraculously you can still get sufficiently screwed
I toss and turn in my uncomfortable bed
With visions of sugar plums in my head
When that doesn’t work
I feel like a jerk
So I watch re-runs of “Mr. Ed”
When you cannot sleep
You also can’t dream
You think of what to do
Will you ever pull through?
So go and get some vanilla ice cream!
McCartney recorded “Hey Jude”
To cheer up the son of some dude
Who’d be seventy five
If he were still alive.
You all know to whom I allude.
Some answers my poor brain elude:
McCartney created “Hey Jude”
For Julian L. –
I assume he could spell,
So why not “Hey Jule” or “Hey Dude”?
Charles Dickens will never conclude
The book where he killed Edwin Drood.
He went up to heaven
While stuck on Part Seven,
Decisions, perhaps, to elude.
Kirk Miller:
The pillows about which I’m griping
Are those which have cases with piping
Just where your cheek lies
Or the edge of your eyes,
And that’s why this lim’rick I’m typing.
For non-prudes, a verse about “lewd”
Would rightly include something crude
Or allude to rude jokes
Such as when nude, stewed folks
Having wooed, viewed and screwed, now are glued.
My insomnia cure isn’t booze;
Neither pills nor warm milk do I use.
But a long string of lies
Makes me nod, close my eyes.
It’s a cure that I’m calling “Fox Snooze.”
Anthropologist Ed misconstrued
The native girl’s gesture (so lewd!),
And tragedy followed:
It’s true that she swallowed,
But first thing, she bit. And she chewed.
Sue — it’s either ’cause Julian’s pa
Thought the song was a little bourgeois,
Or ’cause Paul (being dead)
Was confused in the head…
(Singing, “Na, na na, na-na na na.”)
I’m so tired I can’t even think
I feel like I’m on the brink
My eyes are so blurred
For the worst has occurred
My computer is on the blink
When someone says you’re lewd
It means you’re somewhat crude
Don’t let them down
Go and paint the town
Have a ball and go and get screwed
Insomnia can drive you insane
You lie there and rack your brain
What can I do
I’m feeling so blue
It’s time for some Mary Jane
Insomnia can make you berserk
You lie there and feel like a jerk
You toss and turn
For sleep you yearn
And punching the pillow just won’t work
With a manner both haughty and rude,
He sounds like a grumpy old prude.
But this you should know:
Underneath it would show
His panties are naughty and lewd.
Now I lay me down to sleep;
I pray my country’s soul to keep.
Don’t put to work
Some blowhard jerk
As P.O.T.U.S., congressman or Veep.
In the probable GOP nom’nee, a
Good cure has been found for insomnia,
For it certainly looks
Like there’s no duller books
Than Donald Trump’s opera omnia.
She thought my proposal quite lewd
But she soon changed her attitude
When the sight of my tool
Made her dribble and drool
Lots of licking and sucking ensued
Her carpenter boyfriend was lewd.
He first got her drinks but no food.
As she saw he was chiseled
And, as part of her sizzled,
She got hammered and nailed and screwed.
There once was a bloke who awoke
With a thought for a limerick joke.
He’d be sleepless, he knew,
‘Til he’d worked it all through,
So he scribbled, “There once was a bloke…”
It’s eleven. You turn out the light.
The room is as dark as the night.
You yearn for repose,
But your eyes will not close:
There’s something that just isn’t right.
In your mind, the ideas are reeling…
You’re left with a terrible feeling
That the thoughts of the day
Simply won’t go away,
So you lie there and stare at the ceiling.
You’re constantly tossing and turning —
You’re freezing — next minute, you’re burning.
You glance at the clock
And you see with a shock
That it’s two. But your brain is still churning.
You find you’re beginning to twitch,
For the blanket is starting to itch.
You try counting sheep.
Then your leg falls asleep,
And you think: lucky sonofabitch.
You’ve now made a mess of the bed:
You’re all tangled up in the spread.
As the black turns to grey
In the new-dawning day,
The whites of your eyes turn to red.
Eight hours you’ve tortured your brain
To come up with a verse for Mad Kane
On insomnia. Well,
Those eight hours of hell
Have left you completely insane.
But there’s no time for that any more:
Get up! Put your feet on the floor!
There’s a day’s work ahead,
So… (you fall back in bed;
As your head hits the pillow, you snore.)
Over dinner my date acted lewd,
While she nibbled and sucked on her food.
As my hunger soon grew,
I thought hard what she’d do
Once we’re nude, now that I’m in the mood.
When night time rolls around
I’m plagued with the mysterious “creep”
My mind works overtime
Trying to create a rhyme
I’m just too smart to sleep
On their wedding night, Sheila and Ned
Carried on in their honeymoon bed.
Then she cooed “Hold me tight
And we’ll cuddle all night.”
But he turned on the TV instead…
In the Eighties, Lewd Lou was the dude
For drugs for improving the mood.
It was always enough
That he’d mention his “stuff”:
It was ‘Ludes to which Lewd Lou’d allude.
Plain decency seems to elude
That boss; such a mean little dude.
He gathered the staff
And said with a laugh:
“Don’t like unemployment? You’re screwed.”
The students’ poor writing did keep
Their sad teacher from getting her sleep.
They spelled ewe using u,
Confused to too and two,
And for verbs they just baaaad like a sheep.
All the rules of grammar elude
My dim students who’ve clearly eschewed
Anything that might look
Like a serious book.
Their idea of wit is “yo dude!”
CORRECTION
When it’s time for me to sleep
I am plagued with the mysterious creep
My mind works overtime
Creating yet another rhyme
As I sow, I shall surely reap
The smell of the chef’s gourmet food
Was temptation she couldn’t elude
He knew the best way
To her heart was midway
‘Tween her mouth and the place where she pooed.
This version of my limerick above was what I actually aimed for in the first place (finally got it), but before that, images of the above version was plastering itself all over my mind’s eye, blocking the view to this one, but I finally broke through it.
The smell of the chef’s gourmet food
Was temptation she couldn’t elude
He knew the best way
To her heart was to play
Through her stomach – successfully wooed!
A stripper who liked being prude
Would never go totally nude
And when men dropped their pants
She said, “No! I just dance!”
She’d allude to elude being lewd.
A pedophile, rude, crude and lewd
When caught, he just knew he was screwed
The inmates removed
All his gonads and proved
That he won’t ever be in the mood!
The short burlesque act was quite lewd
And despite that, the audience booed
So the girls hatched a plan
That they’d lapdance each man
And that soon changed the spectators’ mood.
Some people think I am a prude
Hell, I don’t even bathe in the nude
Oh, but with the right man
I would do what I can
To be Queen of Perversion and Lewd.
Roger preferred his women stewed,
Of course he knew it sounded crude.
But babes who couldn’t walk
Or hardly even talk
Were much more willing to get lewd.
Resolutions I thought I could keep
‘Til I found I was in way too deep.
So to hell with that list!
I don’t care who gets pissed!
I’m not going to lose any sleep.
At bedtime, Dad’s stories were full o’ lies–
His life as an agent was full o’ spies
Well, those tales would just keep
Us from falling asleep
But we’d always count sheep with Mum’s lullabies.
If you sleep like a baby, you’re nuts!
Because every two hours your guts
Are screaming for food
And your pants have been pooed
‘Cause not one of your holes ever shuts.
This new couple, so sweet and adoring
In time, got cold feet and were boring
In the bedroom they’d fight
Sometimes spit out of spite
Every night, he’d complete it with snoring.
If you are depending all night on
An easy deep sleep, I say, “Right on!”
But the difference between
Light and hard can be seen
You can easily sleep with the light on.
The best sleep advice I ever had
Was to never go off to bed mad
‘Cause your back will soon slouch
From bad sleeps on that couch
And the ouch that you feel would be bad.
Insomnia does have a cure
Of that I am perfectly sure
Unconscious, unstable
I’m under the table
Soon after two shots of liqueur.
I’m sleepy and lose all my spunk
My buddies call me a cheap drunk
I would if I could
Stay awake like I should
But my good reputation is sunk.
Long ago, I invented a game
For which I’ve not yet found a name
While you play — if you laugh
That’s a game-losing gaffe
All you need is a bed and your ‘flame.’
First, your beau comes to you as you ‘sleep’
And removes all your clothes in a heap
The rules are — don’t giggle
Stay limp and don’t wiggle
Closed eyes and straight face you must keep.
Your only legitimate fear
Is it’s harder than it may appear
You’re a deadweight no doubt
And there’s NO helping out
When you’re done you can both have a beer…
…Or whatever else might bring good cheer
Just to help boost the good atmosphere
But whatever you do
(Though you might like the view)
Don’t go swinging from some chandelier.
(true story… all of it)
P.S.
If you do laugh or wiggle, keep going
Can’t let the momentum stop flowing
The rules you’ll be bending
The fun’s never-ending
It’s one game you won’t be outgrowing.
There is just one more thing you should do
Before having your cold barley brew
Once the clothes are withdrawn
Have some PJs put on
While you ‘sleep,’ then switch roles, start anew.
He’s loud, xenophobic, and rude.
His method, bombastic and crude,
Makes his poll numbers rise,
But it’s based upon lies —
He cries, “Après moi, la Delude!”
(NB: The actual French for “delude” is “tromper”, which is ridiculously appropriate.)
A fellow once tried to elude
Married life, for a reason quite crude:
“Buy the cow? Not for me,
When the milk comes for free!”
But “the cow” overheard him. He’s screwed.
It’s 2am and I’m eating cake
At this ridiculous time, I’m always awake
Charles is snoring away
Like a pig in hay
I’d like to kill him, but crime doesn’t pay
It’s late and I can’t fall asleep
You smiled; my heart started to leap
After that, can’t recall
What had happened at all
Just the feeling that I want to keep.
Some people might call me a prude
But I found his behaviour quite lewd
When he got out his dick
At our family picnic
My poor folks were put right off their food
FORGOT TO RHYME!!!
It’s 2am, and I’m eating cake
At this ridiculous time, I’m always awake
Charles is snoring away
Like a pig in hay
I’d like to kill him, but I need a tax break
(I have a nagging feeling I’m repeating this from somebody else’s entry for a previous rhyme word; if so, I apologize)
A horrid old pervert from Bude
(Whose conduct was loathesome and lewd)
Once got his dick stuck in
A cow he was fuckin’,
Which thoroughly ruined the mooooooooooood.
Since music, they say, is the food
Of love, from now on I’ll allude
To Top 40 singles
As Twinkies and Pringles:
Addictive, unhealthy and crude.
How I long for a slumber that’s deep!
I have tried to count gambolling sheep,
But instead, they count me,
And before they’ve reached three,
Every sheep in the flock is asleep.
Insomnia can be a sorrow
(Reciting from ‘Aardvark’ to ‘Zorro’?),
But it helps me replay
My omissions today,
And all that I won’t do tomorrow.
“Yes! Fuck me!” she cried. “That’s so rude”,
I informed her, “Please do not be lewd.”
“Oh, I’m sorry”, she said,
“Copulation instead?”
I pondered the word as we screwed.
NOT A DUPLICATE
I’m so tired, I can’t even think
I feel like I’m on the brink
My eyes are so blurred
For the worst has occurred:
My BELOVED computer is on the blink
Holy crap, Brian Allgar, you’re lewd!
And disgusting and just a bit rude
Though your last name is ‘Allgar
Instead, should read ‘Vulgar’
You’re quite entertaining, but crude.
(And you’re putting these men in the mood!)
The cannibals relished their food;
The question was: fried, baked or stewed?
Their victim, called Trump,
Said “Just suck on my rump”,
But they thought him excessively lewd.
Suzanne:
I’m bemused as to what you allude.
I’m the model of stern rectitude;
Only innocent quips
Are allowed through my lips,
Though the girls can do something quite rude.
“Holy crap”? Though I’m only a layman,
That’s blasphemy, dearest Ms. Heymann.
Scatological, too –
No, it really won’t do,
Except for a monk who’s a gay man.
(The implications of the last line are for cruder minds than mine to decipher.)
Brian:
It’s quite interesting how you elude
The real facts which you blatantly skewed
Your dramatical turds
Are the gems shat by nerds
My own words you have quite misconstrued.
Love your talent to twist a true story
If I’m caught with a crime predatory
Just be my attorney
If you make the journey
Financially, you won’t be sorry.
Sighed the hooker, about to be screwed
By a lecher all filthy and lewd,
“If you want me Down There
In that foul, matted hair,
Then at least put your balls in a snood!”
In your limerick, if you’ve eschewed
All elements earthy and lewd,
You’ll end up with a verse
That’s so tepid and terse
That you might as well just have haiku-ed.
(Just kidding, btw.)
The Anthony Weiner prayer:
Now I lay me down to sleep;
My sexting pics are hers to keep.
If they’re too lewd,
I might be screwed;
And pray the shit won’t get too deep.
Amen.
An “affluenza” attack:
With his mommy, he tried to elude
The police and a manhunt ensued.
Then, south of the border,
They called in an order
For pizza; that’s how they were screwed.
I was so tired that I let out a scream
All I wanted was a pleasant dream
Then a knock on the wall
Whispered, “My name is Paul”
What a great way to blow off some steam
She had felt so ashamed, even lewd
“Oh my God, he must think I’m just crude!”
When he’d ventured a lick,
She had quivered so quick
But he’d grinned and said, “I love fast-food!”
His thinking is focused and deep
With which of these girls will he sleep?
The redhead looks tight,
But that blonde’s out-a-sight
Inflatable dolls are not cheap!
It’s late and I’m lusty and lewd
Can I play with my wife in the nude?
My request she rejects
For she doesn’t want sex
“Not tonight, dear – I’m not in the mood.”
As I waited, I soon fell asleep
And I quickly was counting those sheep
Though it beat masturbating
I tired of waiting
The line for this lady ran deep.
I awoke with a start from my slumber
As the call-girl was calling my number
And her cunt, in a minute
From when I went in it
Was coming around my cucumber.
BECAUSE APPARENTLY I’M TEN
Though there’s nothing inherently lewd
In the name “Moby Dick”, mirth ensued:
Then I’d read “There she blows!”
And I’d snort through my nose,
And milk through my blow-hole I spewed.
There’s nothing inherently lewd
About “naked”. Though naked is rude,
And the Moralists loathed
Ever being unclothed,
It’s only a sin if you’re “nude”.
A weird narcoleptic named Ted
Had dreams about peeing the bed
He became overwrought,
Tied his dick in a knot
Now sadly, it’s all in his head
Their teacher was napping , alas
His third time this week, what an ass!
The students were pissed,
And all self-dismissed
He soon realized he had no class
When I try to sleep, I toss and turn
For a good night’s rest is all I yearn
I punch Charles in the face
What a fluky disgrace
He’s traded me in for a sex doll called “Fern”
CHANGE OF ONE WORD
When it’s time for me to sleep
I am TORMENTED by the mysterious creep
My mind works overtime
Thinking of yet another rhyme
As I sow, I surely shall reap
While Rubens was painting a nude,
He did something really quite lewd.
He put down his brush
And he painted her tush
With a whiteish concoction he spewed.
But Titian preferred to conclude
In a manner less flagrantly rude.
“When painting”, said Titian,
“I like my rendition
To end with the mouth of the nude.”
He said “I don’t wish to intrude,
But your dancing is tawdry and lewd.”
She replied with a frown
(though it was upside-down)
“First time in a strip club there dude?”
A traveling salesman named Bo
Was in the bar for an hour or so.
With no prospects in sight,
His companion that night
Had an air valve and mouth that said “OH!”
Andy Warhol, though, simply pooh-poohed
Such pretentiousness. “Listen up, dude –
When I’m painting a can
Mr Campbell’s the man,
And the crap that his cans all include.”
Johnny Manziel is a dude
Who parties then tries to elude
Coaches and staff
With a fake photograph
So his day job will never intrude.
From Phyllis Sterling Smith:
Ev’ry night is a visit to hell.
No matter the hour I can tell
That sleep will elude me,
Will never include me.
By morning I’ll not look so well.
I go to bed early or late,
Knowing my inescapable fate:
I’ll toss and I’ll turn,
Maybe calories burn.
Oh joy! Perhaps I will lose weight.
The commercials all grab your attention
For drugs named with utmost pretension.
They promise you’ll rest
With a slumber that’s blessed
Plus side effects that they must mention.
You may walk in your sleep, even drive
And know not where you may arrive.
Suicide? That may happen
While blissfully nappin’.
Those pills make you glad you’re alive.
All day my wife’s in my ear squawking
What she saw last night left her just gawking
Found our house guest, a doll,
And me, nude, down the hall
I hate it when I go sleepwalking
Any day’s for a nap Mad agrees.
Slumberland time one must seize.
To absently doze
In complacent repose
Adieu, I gotta catch some z’s.
My wife’s been asleep for a week
In a coma. Things look a bit bleak
The house is all strewn,
If she doesn’t wake soon,
It’s medical attention I’ll seek
With BFFs raucous and rude,
Her bachelorette party was lewd.
The stripper arrived,
He barely survived;
Hard work for an outstanding dude.
At a party, Bill tried to elude
A girlfriend last month he eschewed.
She came up to greet
With “I’d like you to meet
McGregor, that UFC dude.”
I thought I was orn’ry and mean,
But in that realm my wife’s the queen
Some nights I’ll konk out,
Then she’ll sneak about,
And fart in my CPAP machine
Sleep eluded me just last night
I think it was a case of “The Fright”
I turned to Fred
Who seemed to be dead
Alas, my friends, I got it right
PREVIOUS LIMERICK:
I think IT was a case of the fright, not I think I was a case of the fright
Thank You
(Note from MBK: I changed it for you.)
Oh, how I could use a NAP!
I try so hard and then ZAP!
I get a lick in the face
And an attempted embrace
From my beloved puppy LAPP!
On days when I really can’t sleep
I toss and lament and I weep
The blankets come off
I wheeze then I cough
Then resort to the old “counting sheep”.
If you have a bad attitude
That’s no excuse to be rude
Your shorts in a twist
Invite a clenched fist
And other mayhem to elude
Please forgive me if I don’t allude
To the acts I’ve performed that were lewd.
There were only a few
And they don’t involve you
So the facts will just have to elude.
(Edited version. Periods deleted.)
They met at the gallery door;
She thought “Sexy, charming and more…”
Then, later that night
As she turned out the light,
He asked “Have I been here before?”
The fellow’s somewhat of a prude;
Not prone to be naughty or lewd.
At Haulover Beach,
For a necktie he’ll reach;
He hates being totally nude.
The minister said, “It is lewd
to take off your top or go nude”
He never did say
How he’d tried it one day
And rued he’d never resumed
This poem surely borders on twaddle,
But insomnia you shouldn’t coddle
If sleep does elude,
Don’t cry, weep, or brood,
Just reach for the Ambien bottle
He knows what he’d like if he could
At his age it does him no good
About it he’s placid
‘Cuz it will go flaccid
That nuisance they call ‘morning wood’
oops, sorry you’re seeing double, but the first paste didn’t seem to get submitted….
(Note from MBK: No problem. I deleted the first one.)
Got PJs on sale really cheap
They even have pockets quite deep
I want to but don’t
That means that I won’t
Have to hold things when I am asleep.
Wide awake, sick of counting those sheep
So it’s off to the graveyard I creep
I blinked as I read
A big tombstone that said–
“I am just catching up on my sleep.”
My friend’s wall can talk — that’s berserk!
It can even tell time — what a quirk!
He just gives it a whack
And the wall answers back —
“It’s 1:30 a.m. you dumb jerk!”
He is reaping the fruits of his labor
But those words — they cut deep like a sabre
The voice seems to chide
From the wall’s other side
‘Think it comes from his sleep-deprived neighbor.
A recurring nightmare which haunts me
Blank face with a voice that just taunts me
A ghost on some level
Or maybe the devil?
There’s something out there and it wants me.
I ought to get help, so me thinks
But send me no clergy, no shrinks
Sedation? Vacation?
Or just meditation?
Or stiff combination of drinks?
If it’s sleep that you try to elude
You might be in the partying mood
Just heed what I say
And make sure the next day
You don’t show up at work in the nude.
Sometimes getting sleep eludes ME
I go nuts, I could just climb a tree
But what I do instead
Is I climb out of bed
And write lim’ricks all night and drink tea.
The lady in question – no prude –
Preferred to parade in the nude.
There were some liked her ways
And offered her praise.
There were others who just thought her lewd.
From the mountains appeared Rip Van Winkle,
Now awake and with nary a wrinkle.
His bladder – it burst.
The townspeople cursed,
And renamed him the Great Drip Van Tinkle.
Godiva went riding quite nude;
The villagers all “aahed!” and “oohed!”
But her hair back and front
Concealed breasts, bum and cunt –
A lady should never seem lewd.
As I walked, in belligerent mood,
I encountered a stranger — a dude
With binoculars, viewing.
“Say, what are you doing?”
I asked him (I feared something lewd).
“I’m watching,” the other man said,
“Some nice Bearded Tits*.” I turned red.
It was worse than I feared:
He’s perverted AND weird!
So I gave him a smack on his head.
* Panurus blarmicus
I succumbed to the hypnotist’s chants
And was deep in his malleable trance
But the crowd didn’t clap,
And he uttered, “Oh crap!”
Well, I sued for a new pair of pants
People say it’s lewd
To be in public in the nude
But in Paris (PAREE)
You will clearly see
Folks with the right attitude
A variant of the one above:
Said Godiva, “They “aahed!” and they “oohed!”
When they saw me on horseback, quite nude.
But my hair, back and front,
Hid my bum, tits and cunt,
For a lady must never be lewd.”
The Donald is not one to brood
Or chastise, insult and allude
To peoples’ defects,
Appearance or sex.
Just kidding – he wins and we’re screwed.
That hypnotist known as Phillipe
Why his cost of admission is cheap?
He picks outs a few
When he plays a venue,
Then puts his own dumb ass to sleep
I don’t mean to sound mean or rude,
But I think on a nude beach it’s lewd,
‘Cuz in my mind it blows,
That the ones without clothes,
Are the ones that should cover up, dude.
Thanks so much everyone for another fun two weeks of limericks. This Limerick-Off is officially over. And the winner is…
Congratulations to our Limerick-Off Award Winner, the Sleep/Insomnia-Themed Limerick Winner, the Facebook Friends’ Choice Award Winner, and to the Honorable Mention winners: Limerick-Off Award 243.
But you can still have lots of limerick fun because the new Limerick-Off has just begun: Limerick-Off Pale.