Limerick-Off Monday – Rhyme Word: VENT or PREVENT or EVENT or INVENT 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(s) as a comment to this post and, if you’re a Facebook user, on Facebook too.
I hope you’ll join me in writing limericks using VENT or PREVENT or EVENT or INVENT 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 themed limericks related to SIBLINGS, using any rhyme scheme. And of course I’ll present an extra award — one for the best SIBLING-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 March 20, 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, March 19 at 10:00 p.m. (Eastern Time.)
Here’s my limerick:
A bully had tried to prevent
His grown daughter from dating a gent.
But the bully’s ex-bride
Took their joint daughter’s side:
“At least he (unlike YOU) isn’t bent.”
Please feel free to enter my Limerick-Off by posting your limerick(s) 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
Please excuse me, but I need to vent
‘Cause the landlord just jacked up my rent.
What a dastardly deed
Based on nothing but greed.
I may have to go live in a tent.
There’s a certain political gent
Upon holding a rally, he’s bent
It’s one no one can save
If we rant and we rave —
Invent vents to prevent the event.
If a perfume you want to invent
Could be possibly money well-spent
You’ll see sales go sky-high
But you just don’t know why
Then it probably was heaven-scent.
I’ve a sister — I swear she was sent
From the bowels of hell through some vent
Satan’s scorched her, you see
Just to torture poor me
She’s the anti-Christ, to an extent.
(true story… yeah, okay, I know… TMI)
The G.O.P. needs a big tent;
Or so their analysis went.
That’s a viable fix
For two-oh-one-six;
With Trump, it’s a circus event
No alibi could she invent
For her night in a wigwam with Brent.
“He’s a crook,” her folks curse.
“That makes it much worse.
It was done with a criminal in-tent.”
Detesting the drooling and dribbling
Of his sweet little sibilant sibling,
The young lad said, “Mummy,
If I can’t hit his tummy,
Can I give him a punch in each ribling?”
Scalia’s death? After such an event,
There’s no doubt that the President’s meant
To appoint a new judge,
But the Senate won’t budge –
They’d refuse both advice and consent.
Yes, the Donald knows how to invent
Vicious lies to incite discontent.
Though he’s boastful and shifty,
His ‘groupies’ score fifty –
That’s roughly IQ and percent.
Poor Jeb lost the candidacy:
“My brother’s ingratitude? Gee!
To help him get Dad’s
Job, I dimpled his chads.
But what did he do to help me?”
“Blow me, baby!” She knew what he meant,
But was trying to circumvent
His demands to fellate him,
And said, to placate him,
“I’ve given up meat during Lent.”
(Siblings … an old one)
The twins were as like as two peas,
Especially down on their knees.
Which sister was sucking?
Which one was he fucking?
They charged him identical fees.
A woman tried hard to prevent
Any doubt or slight discontent
She showed him what bliss is
Gave more than hot kisses
Enticed him with erotic scent.
I really wish I could invent
A way to ensnare this hot gent
Seduce from afar
Captivate like a star
This quest is my ceaseless intent.
It’s hard not to scream out and vent
Must share my rage, my discontent
The GOP’s nuts,
No if, ands, or buts
I fear all that they represent.
Hey Donald, how can we prevent
Your telling more than we consent.
Your cock size? We don’t care!
Shake our heads in despair;
Demeaned by all you represent.
My darling, that’s not what I meant
By positions that we could invent.
I’m all for hot sex,
Didn’t go into specs;
But a pretzel was not my intent!
His sis was so hot, he confessed
That he entertained thoughts of incest.
She said, “Listen, Mister –
Although I’m your sister,
It’s fifty bucks, just like the rest.”
Two sisters had tried to invent
A way they could both blow a gent.
It involved tubes and pincers;
The chap had to wince as
He found himself twisted and bent.
We came in too late to prevent
Father Finn from the sin he was bent
On committing. Said Finn,
“‘Tisn’t really a sin —
I gave up religion for Lent!”
The left half of Siamese twins
Berated her mate for his sins.
Cried he, “How the hell
Is a fellow to tell
Where you end, and your sister begins?!”
(Sorry, Mad — that third line above should be “How the *hell*…”)
from MBK: Fixed.
Dear Brother: I wooed Mrs. Lister,
But her husband broke in as I kissed her.
I’m now on the run
In the guise of a nun…
Yours truly, your brother the Sister.
In the spring, I met young Mrs. Trent,
Whose husband was agèd and bent.
A tentative kiss
Led to hours of bliss —
Though suspicion I tried to prevent.
I guessed no malicious intent
Months later, when Mr. Trent sent
Me a note to invite
Me to join them one night —
I agreed to attend the event.
“I’ve challenged my cook to invent
A new dish for you,” leered the old gent;
“A pity my mate
Will be joining us… late.”
Then he tittered. Now, what had he meant?
From the kitchen, and up through the vent
Came a strangely familiar scent…
Mixed with garlic.
And leeks.
How he laughed at my shrieks,
As out through the window I went.
Donald Trump, who is hardly a gent
Says that he’d be a great President.
Can his totals be topped?
Can he ever be stopped?
His election we have to prevent.
At the GOP’s latest event,
They asked Donald Trump what he meant
With his ‘cock-size’ remark.
He replied, oozing snark:
“Guess what holds up the party’s ‘Big Tent’?”
We galloped and galloped from Ghent
To announce a delightful event,
But our map had mistakes –
We completely missed Aix,
And we brought the good news to Tashkent.
When Marilyn stepped on the vent,
Her skirt billowed up like a tent.
The crowd loved the show,
Crying out “Way to go!”,
And that is where Kennedy went.
Sure, kids are a pain in the tush…
But try being Barbara Bush:
At the end of your life
As a mother and wife,
Your illusions deflate with a whoosh,
And as you step out of your bubble, you
Are left with the facts. And they trouble you.
O the stigma! The shame
To the family name,
That the smartest Bush brother was W!
Clinton, Sanders and Trump vent
at each other’s throat to invent
in the mind of the populace
a party with a platform to save face
on the gallows nomination event
My brothers named Harvey and Jake
Were fishing one day on the lake.
Three skiers blew past,
All blonde and bare-assed;
Said Harvey “four real and…two fake.”
A pious young lady from Kent
Decided to give up for Lent
Her boyfriend’s zucchini
Instead of linguine;
For him, a deflating event.
A brother and sister can squabble
With candy, or maybe a bauble.
Then later in life,
What causes the strife?
Inheritance they get to gobble.
I must vigorously vent
Concerning what my wife spent
On “Ageless Face Cream”
To achieve her ultimate dream
This crap ain’t worth a damn red cent
I’m one of a triplet, you see
Count us: one, two, three
I used to complain to my mother
There wasn’t another
Person to play with me
Sister Jane knew from the advent
She wouldn’t fit in at the convent
Was put on report
‘Cause habit was short
And kneeling was a nightly event
The Donald has a female sib
Who judges as a flaming lib
While there on the bench
She can smell the stench
Each time he comes up with a fib
Last night at a gala event
The MC was a malcontent
He became very rude
Our press was unglued
Trump’s ratings still went up 10%???
The Donald decided to rent
A town for his campaign event.
Keeping locals away,
He paid for their stay;
Tijuana is where they were sent.
A BETTER VERSION OF A PREVIOUS LIMERICK
I must vehemently vent
Regarding what my wife spent
On “Eternally Young” cream
To fulfill her ideal dream
That crap isn’t worth a damn red cent
Every time my brother Pete
Had a race with me in the street
Even if I won
The sport called “Outrun”
He always invariably called me a cheat
Two brothers named Jason and Kevin
Show up at the gym before seven.
They don’t like to sweat;
Any six-pack they get
Will come from a 7-Eleven.
BETTER LIMERICK AS FAR AS SYLLABLES
I’m one of triplets, you see
Just count us: one, two, three
I used to complain to my mother
That there never was another
Person around to play with me
My landlord gave me a way to prevent
Not paying my monthly rent
Now I pay
In “another way”
And I’m In Like Flynn with that naughty gent
Two brothers set out to invent
A machine that could fly. So it went:
Though they had the Wright stuff,
They had troubles enough.
In the ground they left many a dent.
Sherry and her sister Mary
Wed brothers named Jerry and Gary.
They both had a son;
It’s surprising no one
They christened them Terry and Cary.
The elites will never consent
To The Donald as our president.
They’re setting up shops
And pulling out stops;
Trumpageddon they have to prevent.
There’s just no way to prevent
Who will win the final event
If it’s not your man
Here’s a plan:
Get on a plane and move to Tashkent
My brother and sister and me
Were born in the land of the free.
That gives us the right
To stand up and fight
A fascist who mocks liberty.
Hurry please or we’ll miss the event,
And then have to sleep in a tent,
But if we can find guys,
Who’ll pay for our thighs,
We might make enough for the rent.
Romulus and Remus
We were chucked in the Tiber to die,
But a wolf got us out safe and dry.
She became like a mother
To me and my brother –
She was kind, but she smelt rather high.
We decided to build our own city,
But couldn’t agree, more’s the pity,
On the choice of the site,
And it led to a fight
Which I won; it was not very pretty.
So Remus was dead macaroni.
I founded Rome all on my owny.
The centuries rolled by …
The results make me cry;
All that effort for what? Berlusconi!
I look just like my brother Paul
We have green eyes and we’re very tall
Our parents are midgets
Who are missing some digits
Yet we look like the man who “paid a call”
I arrived in the month of July
Then came by brother, whose name is Cy
I am four
He’s two years more
Everyone smiles when they hear “why”
Two sisters – Melissa and Kate
Went out on a double blind date.
The fellows they met
Were hoping to get
Their Mix ‘n Match family rate.
I just knew it! That rally event
Was just bound to have protesters vent
I am psychic, you see
You might want to ask me
Who will be this year’s new president.
If a forest fire you won’t prevent
You’re an idiot, hundred percent!
Your campfires, your smoking
Should kill you with choking
If you aren’t careful, get bent!
So if you survive THAT incident
It’s just too late to say “I repent”
I hope Smoky the Bear
Eats you up, hide and hair
And that meal is your final event!
I complained to my father and mother
“Why did you not make me a brother?
A permanent blister
Is my evil sister
I hope you don’t make me another!”
If you think boys create as much gloom
That is something you’d wrongly assume
‘Cause when boys hurt girls, fully
They’re labelled a bully
And promptly meet up with their doom.
An only child’s life kept at bay
I was tempted to just run away
No one to abruptly
Try hard to disrupt me
Or could interrupt me each day.
In solitude, there is no strife
That is what I have sought my whole life –
Just peace and some quiet
No noise, nor a riot
No air you can cut with a knife.
So if your kids do not get along
Flush out bullies, find out who is wrong
Then teach them that they
Cannot just get away
With unfairness, or punishment’s strong.
Well, if it were all up to me
I would send her to boot camp with glee
Then I’d ship off that beast
To the great Middle East
Where I know she at least lets me be!
Two jewel thieves crawled through the vent
Motion sensor alarms to prevent
But the one lethal gaffe
Which would cut them in half
Laser-phaser beam – money well-spent!
If you’re trying to prevent
A pregnancy without consent
Say you have “your friend”
And in the end
You’ll never again see that handsome gent
I bet you at least have one sibling
Who pesters and never stops quibbling
You might kill ’em, you fear
If the brat gets too near
Like a bug in your ear, always nibbling.
If that happens, oh well, what the hell
You’ll inhabit a comfortable cell
And I do guarantee
Food and housing is free
I think you’ll agree that it’s swell.
Poor Mable and her sister May;
They’re having a terrible day.
News cameras hovered;
A tow truck recovered
Their car from a storefront on Clay.
Yeah, that store they smashed into on Clay
Sold more than just nice lingerie
Some ‘aids’ for the boys
Like inflatable toys
Just flew out from the window’s display.
The dildos and edible thongs
All covered the hood, piled in throngs
Some folks thought it neat
What had rolled to the street
Were some boob mugs and pecker-shaped bongs.
The cops were just having a riot
Their laughter could not be kept quiet
A condom dispenser
Made things much intenser
It hit the store’s dense clerk nearby it.
Good things happen from such a bad goof
And here’s the indelible proof:
When repairs to the shop
Were done bottom to top
Sales skyrocketed right through the roof.
The sisters were always discreet;
‘Till they drove that old car down the street.
Then it swerved to the right;
A hilarious sight
When those dildos were found on the seat.
A sailor lost ev’ry last cent
But the sex was a signal event.
While they rolled, yawed and pitched
She got greatly enriched
While he, like his money, got spent.
Clinton, Sanders and Trump vent
at each other’s throat to invent
in the mind’s of the populace
a party with a platform to save face
on the gallows nomination event
The entertainer tried to prevent
the loudmouth from ruining the event
with a quick wit
like bridle and bit
ran the blowhard outside to vent
The purpose of the event
find a pillar from heaven sent
to solve the country’s problems
get attitude out of the doldrums
but the competition became hell-bent
If someone greater than me would invent
the answer to life’s curious events
we would all be rich and happy
but that’s been done and it became slappy
until someone else opened a new vent
(I think I’ve used these inner lines before, but they work in context…)
He ate three burritos, did Kent;
Then off to the op’ra he went,
And thus, in the pause
Just before the applause,
Had a Loud and Revolting Event.
Re: Dave Johnson’s two sisters (cont’d)
Being widows, you can’t really blame them
And I wouldn’t be one to defame them
Though visuals are scary
It’s just temporary
As waves of relief overcame them.
So Mable and May have been caught
With the playthings that they could have bought
Had they walked through the door
Instead of just floor
The gas pedal over the thought.
And what did he give up for Lent
The Donald who so loves to vent?
Invective and ire?
Of that he will tire
And don’t expect him to repent
Re: Dave Johnson’s two sisters (cont’d)
Their pensions may have been too meager
For a wee spark of joy they were eager
Filled the hole in their life
Being nobody’s wife
They don’t need a rap sheet to beleaguer.
There’s such a malodorous bent
To his blather at every event.
His crowd laps it up
Like some brain-damaged pup;
They love this despicable gent.
But their cheering is never enough;
For him, that’s just pocket-change stuff.
The White House he cries
Is the ultimate prize
That he’ll dump when the going gets tough.
He brags that the millions he’s spent
Allowed him to make a big dent
In delegates earned
With money to burn
So don’t you come in here to vent!
A fiasco I tried to prevent
By retrieving some money I’d lent
But the bitch wouldn’t budge
She held on with a grudge
To every single last cent.
My brother (the jokester) was sent
A holiday gift that was bent
I don’t mean to say
T’was bent quite THAT WAY
She limped in too late for the event.
Mable and May (cont’d)
Those sisters, we’re glad to report
Took a bus to a naked resort.
They were looking for beaus
Without any clothes
But frustrated – both came up short.
The shopkeeper gave them commission
Since his sales spiked from their demolition
The two gals brought some toys
To allure the old boys
So now Mable and May have stopped wishin’.
“Messy desk, Creative mind”, let me vent-
Most plaques, I just really lament.
I like that one you see
Because it screams, “ME”!
No inspiration, just love the content!
A Biblical figure named Cain
Had a brother who gave him a pain.
So he took his bro’s life,
Ran away, took a wife.
Whom he married, though, none will explain.
(Cain, as a son of Adam and Eve, would have had only sisters to choose from for a wife. Somehow that gets glossed over….)
It was sad that he could not prevent
The odor he spread when he went.
To complain was insane.
Just ask Lois Lane –
You don’t mess around with “Clark Kent”.
“You don’t have to be Aristotle,”
Said Mabel, “to know that the throttle
Is the reason we crashed.”
Said her sister, “You’re smashed!”
And pointedly held up the bottle.
“Oh, rot! It’s the throttle!” said Mabel;
“The steering wheel, too, isn’t stable.”
“It’s you, I would say,
Who’s not stable,” said May,
“This is seventy proof, by the label.”
There’s sex toys (too many to tally)
Spread out from the street to the alley —
There’s lotions, and lubes,
And inflatable boobs,
And more dicks than a Donald Trump rally.
But the spot where the girls took their knocks
Is off by a couple of blocks
From the place to which they
Had been driving that day:
The junction of Cummings and Cox.
It’ impossible to prevent
Not eating chocolate during lent
So I gave up beans
Which surely means
I won’t come down with “Godiva Torment”
They’re angry, they can’t pay their rent.
And their savings, it’s not worth a cent.
But now’s the big test,
Will they vote for the best,
Or just squander their vote, as the vent!
Suzanne and Will T. – Mabel, May and I thank you; those are epic!
BTW, my original post was inspired by an event that happened at
my wife’s real estate office. She was on the phone when there was a loud crash and a car came halfway through the doorway. It was driven by a lady
unfamiliar with her new vehicle. She was ok but obviously rattled.
The impact caused her wig to slide down over her face. One of the agents said later that when he came running up, he thought a poodle was driving the car.
We learned TEPCO didn’t prevent
The Japanese meltdown event.
With brains of salami,
They bet “no tsunami.”
Alas, that’s not how the things went.
So I hope you’ll allow me to vent.
They were warned that unless dough was spent,
They’d be known as the masters
Of nuc’lear disasters.
Now in jail cells, their years might be spent.
Fukushima Nuclear Disaster
One pair of musical brothers
Entertained us more than the others.
We’d heard Don and Phil,
Then Bobby and Bill;
But our laughter belonged to the Smothers.
Dave:
Your first limerick that sparked this ‘story’ reminded me of an accident that happened to a sex shop in my province in May 2014. In Vancouver, a truck backing up in an alley hit some power lines attached to the building of the sex shop, sending a pile of bricks, metal and wood tumbling to the sidewalk and ripping the roof apart in the process. The street was closed until the mess got sorted out. It became the butt of many jokes after that.
In your story, the part about the wig had me in stitches. With a full bladder, no doubt. All I’ll say is thank goodness for maxipads.
Will:
There you sat in the back seat that day
Of the car owned by Mabel and May
You were a witness
And you got scared shitless
When they hit the store’s front display.
So how do I know you were there?
Your account of the details you share
Tell us now, why did you
Even ride with those two?
I heard you hitchhiked on a dare.
(or did you get paid by the pair?)
Mistake
It’s impossible to prevent
EATING chocolate during lent
So I gave up beans
Which surely means
I won’t come down with “Godiva Torment”
Coming out for The Donald’s event,
They honored that horrible gent.
Shouting “Give ’em the boot!”
With a right-hand salute;
Then back to their caverns they went.
“Brothers and sisters REPENT!”
He yelled at his gospel event.
It was later revealed
That donations were peeled
From a lap dancer’s G-string for rent.
A hottie named Lisa St. John
Went tubbing with Justin and Ron.
They remained in the soak
Through the very last stroke;
Then she called up their cousin named Sean.
So much of this campaign is spent
Watching The Donald foment
Carnage and chaos;
Our news channels play us
A slow-motion train wreck event.
Young Jack was a fellow from Bicester
Who got a venereal blicester.
The doctor who told him
Took time out to scold him —
He’d noticed the same on Jack’s sicester.
A Pronoun-ced Transformation
He once had a tomboyish sister
So commanding that none would resist her.
Then his sib stopped pretending.
“I am done gender bending,”
He declared. “You must now call me Mister.”
The round room was too hot, so they sent
For a gal of industrious bent.
With curved ducts in the wall
She could cool the whole hall.
That hot air she could thus circum-vent.
The wrecking ball known as The Donald
Keeps trashing the party of Ronald.
It’s been clear for a while
His governing style
Would make heroes of Cruz and McConnell
A student caused much discontent
To see how his teacher would vent
She pulled out a strap
Bent him over her lap
And proceeded to slap with intent.
Well, that was an ev’ryday e-vent
In an era of strict rule enforcement
Nowadays they would sue
The pants right off of you
And you just might be held in confinement.
The abusive man tried to prevent
Her from hiding from all his torment
He would warn her about
How he’d kill her, no doubt
If she left him without his consent.
Well, necessity made her invent
A sure way to have peace, be content
So she axed his throat, deep
In his nocturnal sleep
And into a meat-grinder he went.
If there’s something new I could invent
That made billions, I would be hellbent
To help poor, sick and crappy
Lives, making them happy
By then, all the money is spent.
Then maybe I should just prevent
Losing ev’ry last little red cent
Put a million aside
So that I don’t backslide
Into lacking the funds to pay rent.
“It was what I was trying to prevent –
Going into the hole where I went.
It wasn’t my goal.
I missed the right hole.
It’s the way that my damn thing is bent.”
A lad met a lass from Kilkenny.
He asked for her thoughts for a penny,
But try as she might,
As day became night,
It turned out she didn’t have any.
However, she didn’t prevent
A fragrance that clearly she meant
To waft over his way.
He was left to assay –
Was the scent that she sent worth a cent?
Some people shout and shriek and vent
But there is no definite way to prevent
Who ultimately will win
So take it on the chin
It’s always the husband who pays the rent
Triplets always seem to find room
To roll around in the radiant gloom
But they eventually cry
Because they have to say, “Bye”
To their favorite residence: mommy’s womb
With places named Sisters and Brothers,
Our Sweet Home is unlike the others.
Eugene OR John Day
Could be Boring at play,
Having Agness and Florence for mothers.
To the prom all the school students went.
Queen and king were announced, and it meant
Something special to them.
It was really a gem
And was called high school’s crowning event.
Anniversary for gal and gent
Is their silver one. Day will be spent
Reminiscing about
How their marriage worked out.
Celebration’s a sterling event.
To a clinic on tennis I went.
The whole time of the meeting was spent
Teaching drop shots, and so
As you probably know,
It was seen as a network event.
“My son’s sibling’s in jail,” said their mother.
“He’s a criminal, but both my other
Sons are chefs, can’t get jobs.
But they’re honest,” she sobs.
“So you can’t judge a cook by his brother.”
The robot had fam’ly. A sister
Was charming. You couldn’t resist ’er.
They shared mother, but dad
Wasn’t same, so the cad
Would call his young sibling trans-sister.
There’s naught I can to to prevent
What the skies, I surmise, have now sent
The snow is now falling
I find it appalling
It’s the winter of my discontent.
It sounds like you’re trying to vent
How your mind’s undergoing torment
If the sun fills the skies
And the temperatures rise
Would that cheer you up to an extent?
I’m sorry, if I need to vent.
I should give that up during Lent.
That’s why I’m drinking,
Instead of thinking.
Sometimes I really need to vent.
To David R. and Marty M.:
What YOU need to do is invent
A diversion to help circumvent
The blues inside YOU
(A pole dancer will do)
To dissolve the desire to lament.
If you two are just lonely misters
And blown by emotional twisters
Your problems are solved
Not too much is involved –
Rosie Palm and her five lovely sisters.
Upon my young sis, has he preyed?
She says ‘love’, but has she been played?
Has she been defiled?
Is she now with child?
Was she simply laid or waylaid?
My brother had just left his wife
I said, “That’s the end of that strife!
But don’t worry, Earl,
You’ll find a new girl,
Then you’ll have a new leash on life.”
We were sleeping near the bedroom vent
When we noticed a fragrant, sweet-smelling scent
It was our blooming mimosa
So we moved the bed CLOSA
And dreamed of flowers to our utmost content
BETTER!
People shriek, shout, and vent
But there is no scientific way to prevent
Who will win
Take it on the chin
It’s usually the husband who pays the rent
The Donald has Twitter to vent
And show all the energy spent
Reacting to slights
Then stirring up fights;
His thumbs are offensively bent.
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 Sibling-Themed Limerick Winner, the Facebook Friends’ Choice Award Winner, and to the Honorable Mention winners: Limerick of the Week 248.
But you can still have lots of limerick fun because a new Limerick-Off has just begun: Limerick-Off Laid.