Limerick-Off Monday – Rhyme Word: BOUT or ABOUT 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 either BOUT or ABOUT 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 ALLERGIES, using any rhyme scheme. And of course I’ll present an extra award — one for the best allergy-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 July 24, 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, July 23, 2016 at 10:00 p.m. (Eastern Time.)
Here’s my limerick:
At the end of their sexual bout,
She noticed her lover’s self-doubt.
“Don’t worry,” she said,
As she rose from their bed.
“I’m accustomed to doing without.”
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
Though I’ve tried, I just can’t figure out
What the candidates are all about.
Accusations keep flying.
Can it be they’re both lying?
The one thing that is certain is doubt.
Eyes are watering and can’t stop sneezin’,
And my breathing is nothin’ but wheezin’.
It’s that time of the year
That I annually fear,
It’s the take antihistamine season!
There once was a singer named Bout,
Who sang without whimsy or doubt,
They said, “hey soprano,
Can you tuna piano?!”
He said, “No, I can harpsichord trout.”
The professor was stringent about
Punctuation. “It’s simple!” he’d shout.
“The possessive? It’s “its”;
If it’s “it is”, it’s “it’s”.
I trust that is clear beyond doubt.”
“Here’s my sick note”, he said with a smirk.
“Ergasiophobia? You jerk,”
Snarled his boss, Mr. Proctor,
“This note from your doctor
Just means you’re allergic to work!”
It had been a most gruelling bout;
Both boxers took clout after clout.
When he’d counted to ten,
Neither man rose again
So the referee gave them both “Out!”
Five fishermen live hereabout,
But their talents are somewhat in doubt.
Though five lines they will spin,
Just one fish is reeled in,
So this quintet is known as “The Trout”.
The bimbo went round and about
With the guys who were certain to spout.
She would swallow the lot,
And explained “It’s so hot,
I’m afraid there will soon be a drought.”
I have no idea what it’s about
Or how the damned plot will turn out.
Covers so many things,
While valiant hope springs.
We need to hold on and chill out.
The hot chick was prancing about
While guys gave encouraging shout.
‘Cause her top was too low,
They relished the show
And waited for her to bust out.
He had quite a strenuous bout
With a strong, hanging tough rainbow trout
This made my day:
The trout got away!
His fishing was one big washout.
I’m allergic to most politicians
With their multiple bullshit positions,
Though I’m not sneezing
I’m certainly wheezing.
I’m sick of their toxic emissions.
“Stupid voters of Britain!” I shout.
“What on earth were you thinking about?
Now you say that ‘Stay In’
You were hoping would win,
So why did you vote for ‘Get Out’?”
My wife sat down hard with a pout.
I said, Hey, what’s that all about?
She said, I just stuffed in
A cuke in my “muffin”
And can’t get the damn thing back out!
She worked for a sexual lout
Who told told her she had to “put out”.
Unseemly details
That expose Mr. Ailes;
Yeah, that’s who I’m talking about.
We replace body parts, if you please;
Like a nose, if you sniffle or sneeze.
Our premium stuff
Would be shown in the buff;
But there’s no volume discount for these.
It was in the tenth round of the bout,
When a quick left hook knocked him right out.
The poor guy couldn’t win,
Took one right on the chin,
‘Cause the other guy just had more clout!
It’s what critical thought is about
But it has a bad image, does doubt
If blind faith is your virtue
It only will hurt you
You’re much better off when without.
She was to be one of the “perks”
At the office where Roger Ailes works.
But started to sneeze
As he fondled her knees;
Turns out, she’s allergic to jerks.
It appears that the captain is out
Of the closet without any doubt.
From up high in the rigging
I spotted him frigging
The cabin boy, coming about.
I thought I was sure to make out
With my neighbour. Her husband’s a lout,
And my suave British charm
Couldn’t fail to disarm
Her. I pictured a strenuous bout.
So I called on her. Oh, how I lusted!
I’d teach her the meaning of “thrusted”.
But my plans went awry;
It turns out she’s a guy.
Appearances cannot be trusted.
(Revised version of an earlier one)
Five fishermen live hereabout,
But their talents are somewhat in doubt.
Though five lines they would spin,
Just one fish was reeled in.
This quintet is now known as “The Trout”.
(An old one …)
Though the sirloin was tender and sweet,
She said “I’m allergic to meat
Unless it’s organic.”
I told her, “Don’t panic,
I’ve something I’m sure you can eat.”
As they loaded the Ark’s floating zoo,
It appeared they were missing a few.
“Those unicorns? Banned ’em”,
Said Noah. “Can’t stand ’em.
I’m allergic to dinosaurs, too.”
(Where’s Trump when you need him?)
“The Alamo? That was a rout,
But if I’d been around and about,
Then no blood would’ve spilt,
’Cause the wall I’d have built
Would’ve kept all them Mexicans out.”
The German cried “What’s it about?
I look nice when I’m dressed to go out.
In my waistcoat a rose
And my smart leder hose
You can’t call me a poor sauer kraut”
My allergies? Let’s count the ways
So-called music offends me these days:
Heavy Metal, Hip-Hop,
Garage, Rap . . . it’s all slop,
And my eyes are beginning to glaze.
Now mustard’s my bete noir by God
The reaction is terribly odd
With rashes and hives
The blood pressure dives
I give old St Peter the nod
“What on earth are you fussing about?”
Said the elephant-riding mahout.
“When my boy takes a dump,
It’s the size of your Trump –
By November, it’s all been washed out.”
Being from New Jersey, we never said “route”
In Chicago I learned what it was all about
I always said “root’
But there was quite a dispute
Now I won’t be a Mid West dropout
Baseball batters like bowling, no doubt.
It is something they’re raving about.
Why do they think it’s good?
Don’t you know? Think you should.
It’s because with three strikes you’re not out.
I’ve seen you with that gloomy pout
You don’t even want to go out!
This remedy won’t fail
And it’s not a tall tale
Just do the Hokey Pokey and turn yourself about
NOT A DUPLICATE
Being from N.J. we never said “route”
But in Chicago, I learned what it was about
I always said “root”
But there was quite a dispute
Now I say it right, but I still have to pout
I got married in July
What I’m about to tell you is no lie
I wanted June
Under the full of the moon
But mom had allergies, so I had to comply
(actually true)
Allergy season is really not funny
We cough and sneeze and OH, HONEY
Pollen’s in the air
Our eyes always tear
But I work for a doctor, so we’re making good money
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,”
Said the unrequited old lout,
“How you can insist you
Could tell when I kissed you,
That I’d had salami with kraut?”
My name is Brooke; I have a perpetual pout
Do you want to know what it’s all about?
Mom thought it would be cute
Just an all out hoot
To call me that when our last name is Trout
@Brian
They’re five fisher-*women*. I’ve met
Fran Schubert, who handles the net.
For fishing, Fran fell in
With four gals named Ellen…
They’re called the 4-Ellen Quintette.
(NB: For those who don’t know their chamber music, the German title of the “Trout” is “Das Forellenquintette”.)
Roger Ailes pulled his genitals out
And proceeded to wave them about.
“And this,” muttered Gretchen
(When she’d finished retchin’)
“Must be your twin brother, no doubt…”
I’m allergic to goat fur. It’s true:
I sneeze ’till I gasp and turn blue.
Even young ones I shun,
Or my nose starts to run,
And I say: Kid, here’s lurking achoo.
EDITED:
I’ve got an allergy/addiction
It’s real, not a word contradiction.
I want it; I crave!
I am chocolate’s slave!
Possessed is a perfect description.
Sauer Grapes ~
They say ‘kraut is good for the gout,
But I’ve found that it’s not a good route.
I buyed it and tried it
And wrapped up inside it.
For now, I have lost the first bout.
Right Back At-Chooo! ~
For a wheezerly, sneezerly geezer,
There’s not a known cure that’s a pleaser.
For an allergy bout
Just don’t let him come out,
But keep him locked up in your freezer.
Spite Thy Face ~
There once was a dark, stormy Knight,
Whose nickname was Sir Gesundheit,
For he’d sniffle and sneeze,
Then he’d cough and he’d wheeze,
’til he cut off his nose, just in spite!
The box for my cross? Not a doubt!
And our vote isn’t something to flout.
Ahead gleams our Brexit
So Tessa, don’t hex it!
You’d face a most strenuous bout.
Though Cortez was alleged to be stout,
He was nimble at getting about.
“There’s no time for tarryin’,”
He’d cry, but on Darien
Fell silent, completely puffed out.
@Will
When in search of a pun, Will’s no slouch;
For that, I can certainly vouch.
And how could one better
“4-Ellen Quintette”?
The only response can be “Ouch!”
Reaping what they sowed
With no clue what the whole thing’s about,
They mindlessly voted for OUT.
“If I’d known OUT would win,
I’d have voted for IN”,
They complain, now they’re all up the spout.
So tell me, what is it about?
Oh Wise One, who didn’t vote OUT?
I was sick of the greed
Of the Eurocrat breed
In the trough — all four trotters and snout.
AND IN THIS CORNER, KID IONESCO!
In the very first round of the bout,
The Kid knocked the champion out.
But they stopped him, they did,
When they noticed the Kid
Had four legs, and a horn on his snout.
My allergy to people causes many frowns
I can’t help but sneeze on the village grounds
Hubby and me: so in love are we
Are forced to live in different towns
CORRECTION
My allergy to people causes many frowns
I can’t help but sneeze on the village grounds
Hubby and me
So in love are we
Are forced to live in different towns
CORRECTION
I got married in the month of July
But I have to tell you a little white lie:
I really wanted June
Under the full of the moon
But mom had allergies, so I had to comply
(FYI the actual truth)
CORRECTION
My name is Brooke, and I have sulky pout
I will now tell you what it’s all about:
Mom thought it would be cute
Just an all out hoot
To call me that, because our last name is Trout
On Tinder, I frequently shout,
“A man’s-man is what I’m about
I like my men some fuzzy.”
Grizzly Adams, and was he!
He liked Furries, not girls, it turns out.
Fifty Shades of Gray is about
Erotic tastes that will knock you out
But since I’m a nun
I can no longer run
So I’ve declared that I’ve ceased being fully devout
Whether Innie or Outie or Ummie
Our collective response was: “Cor, lumme!”
Have no fear; have no doubt
Brits will aye come about.
Even though things still seem a bit rummy.
PS: I know, I’ve got “about” on the “wrong” line, but there it is. Britannia waives the rules :-)
It’s Aboot Time and Rhyme ~
An Ancient of deep Scottish root,
Told a Limerick of bawdy repute,
‘bout a maiden from Kent,
And yet, with his accent,
No one knew what the joke was aboot.
This morning, the phrase “cut to the chase” called me. So I answered.
Chastity, Thy Name is Naught ~
Some men of the boasting type shout
Bawdy tales of “Ye Old Inn and Out.”
When we cut to the chaste –
Those who haven’t embraced –
They ask, “What is the fuss all about?”
Out of Cadence ~
His dyslexia sometimes came out
When the Drill Sergeant started to shout,
But he knew how to cope:
He could walk that tightrope,
Though they’d grin when he’d yell, “Face About!”
“Aye, ye’re sleekit,” said Burns, “But I doubt
That I’m fit for a sexual bout”,
Till the maiden from Deal
Gave his wotsit a feel,
And the wee tim’rous beastie sprang out.
“Send in the clowns … Don’t bother, they’re here”
I’m allergic to ludicrous hair,
Gaping mouth, a maniacal stare.
Am I speaking of Trump?
No, that lookalike chump
Boris Johnson. He’s one of a pair.
Wood Grain Alcohol ~
There once was a lazy young lout,
Who mixed barley and malt with his grout.
His wood, stone, and mortar
Were not made-to-order
And drunk termites ran all about.
A nun who was very devout
Would often worry about
How she would handle
What she did with a candle
If the abbess was to find out.
***************************
He was allergic to food that was sugary
Knowing it could lead to skullduggery,
Eating cupcakes and candy
Would make him feel randy
Committing acts of bestiality and buggery.
A lioness mooning about
And old lover was filled with self-doubt;
Dejected, she cried,
“Where oh where is my pride?!
Anyone could see he was a lout!”
**********************
A bee’s uncontrollable sneeze
Proved a symptom of fierce allergies
To all kinds of pollen;
Sniffed poor he, crestfallen,
“This sneeze has brought me to my knees!”
Uncle Ernie was fiddling about
When Tommy, not fully tuned out,
Cried, “See me and heal me,
But if you dare feel me
I swear i will put your lights out!”
GESUNDHEIT by errol nimbly
There’s a trick-turning floozy, long fallen,
Who’s allergic, in springtime, to pollen.
With her multiple sneezes,
Come vaginal squeezes–
“God bless you!” cry clients while ballin’.
Here’s an alternate with transitional anapestic meter, that you may prefer. I think I do.
There’s a trick-turning floozy, long fallen,
Who’s bothered, in springtime, by pollen.
Along with her sneezes,
Come vaginal squeezes–
“God bless you!” her clients keep callin’.
A girl who oft’ slept about,
Found she had one up the spout.
She observed, with chagrin,
“While it was fun going in,
I fear that it will hurt coming out”.
Snow White wore a billowy dress;
And the dwarfs numbered seven, no less.
Whenever one tried
To sneak up inside,
Only Sneezy was easy to guess.
They were constantly out and about,
And he worried they might just burn out.
So on Sunday instead,
He dragged her to bed
To “play” till he’d scream, and she’d shout.
OFFICIAL EDITED VERSION:
A guy at a Circus called out
“I’m amazed at the length of your snout”
And a woman (well dressed)
Was less than impressed
Not knowing who it was about
But the elephant glowing with pride
Offered that lady a ride
Which she flatly refused
Cuz her feelings were bruised
And proceeded to hurry outside…(just a little explanatory note.
Le Coût de ma Foley*
Inkum stinkum pinkum pew
Pink ladies’ Depends made “just for you”
Scent of muguet des bois
Left my poor tush raw
My rash Dependence now I rue
*foleys are a kind of catheter used in general anesthesia and tend to leave one incontinent for a period of time following.
Want to know what the grumbling’s about?
I hate cleaning these tiles and this grout
The amount is humongous –
The mold and the fungus
And so is the swearing I shout.
What’s this nonsense in Cleveland about?
It’s a dumpster fire, set by a lout.
After days of this trash
I broke out in a rash.
I’m allergic to stupid, turns out.
Every time that I go take a dump
There’s an image of one wealthy grump
I just look at my poo
Then I promptly “Achoo!”
I’m allergic to Donald J. Trump!
I listen, but can’t figure out
What that brainless boob’s blath’ring about
If you hit his head – Boink!
You might hear him go “Oink!”
As he shoves his hind hooves in his snout.
It’s an implant, toupee or a sprout
I’ve this urge to just yank it all out
Though I might go to jail
It’s worth watching him flail
And grow lifelessly pale beyond doubt.
“So who the hell is he?!” you shout
Oh you KNOW who I’m talking about
A rich brute in a suit
And a redneck to boot
And he’s loaded with loot, that old lout.
I once had a lover, Jack Sprat
Who sneezed at the sight of my cat
He hinted I should
Dump my kitty for good
‘Cause his allergies would not go flat.
Of my fur baby, I am quite fond
But the man didn’t care for our bond
So his thoughts I reversed
Quenched the worst of his thirst
When I threw him head first in my pond.
If you don’t know what life’s all about
Don’t worry, relax, just chill out
Live life fully and know
When it’s your turn to go
You’ll no longer be living in doubt.
Donald Trump’s really freakin me out
Which is odd cause he’s naught but a lout.
He trumps up his lies
And applies orange dyes
And he smirks his self-satisfied pout!
We know what this ballot’s about.
It’s crucial without any doubt
That progressives must rally
In masses to tally
The votes to exit this lout.
The Melting Pot menu’s about
Combinations of food that you doubt
You’d ever be able
To serve at your table
Like brie, calamari, and kraut.
You ask, “What’s this poem about?”
I reply that my wit has run out.
Yes, my world’s gone askew;
All I write is word stew
Since Republicans gave us that lout.
As he ordered an ale, dark and stout
He seemed happy (what was it about?)
He revealed the whole thing
As he took off his ring
A divorce was the reason, no doubt.
Just then, who should show up and spout?
Why, his ex, who for sure thought he’d pout
She had hoped he’d be sad
But she saw he was glad
Well, that just made her mad and act out.
“Grow up now, you silly old trout!
There’s no need to be bitchy or shout
You’re no longer my wife
I’m all done with your strife
So move on, get a life and chill out!”
The applause could be heard all about
As the bartender kicked the bitch out
It was fun to attend
Watch the bimbo descend
To the imminent end of her bout.
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 Allergy-Themed Limerick Winner, and to the Honorable Mention winners: Limerick-Off Award 257.
But you can still have lots of limerick fun because a new Limerick-Off has just begun: Limerick-Off Lean.