Limerick-Off Monday – Rhyme Word: STARE or STAIR at the end of any one line
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 STARE or STAIR at the end of any one line. (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 DISHONESTY, using any rhyme scheme. And of course I’ll present an extra award — one for the best DISHONESTY-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 February 5, 2017, 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, February 4, 2017 at 10:00 p.m. (Eastern Time.)
Here’s my limerick:
A fellow will frequently stare
At people as if they are bare.
When informed this is lewd
And unbearably crude,
He’ll retort rather rudely: “Don’t care!”
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: Bad Behavior, Behavior & Personality, Competition Limerick, Crude Limerick, Limerick Challenge, Limerick Contest, Poetry & Prompts, Rudeness Humor, Writing Prompts
The Emperor’s clothes
He had chosen his outfit with care
For the day, yet I still had to stare
When he started to bleat,
For his naked conceit
Made it clear he was morally bare.
I was placing my feet with great care,
And believed I was dancing with flair.
We were waltzing like pros
Till I trod on her toes . . .
Alas, I am no Fred Astaire.
Dishonesty? How dare you insult your President!
“Believe me, the Mexican wall
Will be beautiful, ’bout a mile tall.
You’ll be paying the cost
With the healthcare you lost;
Your taxes will pay for it all.
I was badly misquoted – to call
It a lie seems to me kinda small.
You guys shoulda read
What I actually said:
I’ll make Mexico PAPER the wall.”
The President isn’t all there.
It’s shameful, I know, but don’t stare;
Though physically burly,
His brain’s short and curly,
As smart as his own pubic hair.
“To climb to the top of the stair?
It’s easy, I’m already there;
Just lie, cheat and steal.
As for ethics, get real –
The voters don’t know and don’t care.”
When your gaze is a menacing stare,
And your small, piggy eyes seem to glare,
And your mouth is agape –
No, you’re not a Great Ape,
Just the POTUS they’re calling “Mein Herr”.
“Excuse me, I don’t mean to stare
But are you a peach, plum or pear?”
“Are you blind there, monsieur?
My skin’s green for sure,
And D’anjou’s my name, if you care.”
I look at your photos, just stare,
The time passes by; I don’t care.
I miss you so much-
Your words and your touch.
Your death leaves a void of despair.
Hey, guy! Look away, don’t you stare!
Whatever your thoughts, don’t go “there”!
I want some respect!
Can’t be more direct.
Know I’m packing heat, so beware!
I look in the mirror and stare,
How did all those grey hairs get there?
I was doing just fine,
In my mind, thirty-nine!
Still sexy as hell! I don’t care!
Our Country fell down a steep stair,
To an abyss! How the hell we’d get there?
The incompetent fool
Is just nasty and cruel.
We’re living a Trumpish nightmare.
“Hey, my promise to never destroy
Your Medicare wasn’t a ploy.
It’s not ME who will screw it –
My minions will do it.
The cash that they’ll free up! Oh, boy!”
Dishonesty theme
(Terms of agreement – be precise!)
The bimbo was willing and hot.
I asked her to swallow. “Why not?”
She didn’t complain
As she drank my champagne,
And it’s true that she swallowed the lot.
She was naked! I just had to stare
At the President’s wife; she was bare
In the photos of old,
And the truth must be told:
I could see where he grabbed her – right there!
Presidential dishonesty…
Whenever Trump opens his face,
His office he tends to debase.
What he spews from his mouth
Sits so far to the south
Of the truth, it’s a flaming disgrace.
It’s craftiness, crookedness, cheating,
Deceit, double-dealing, maltreating.
It’s dupery, son,
And to him, it’s just fun.
Not a man you would like to be meeting.
In order to groove silk and satin,
By nefarious means I will fatten
My wallet. (I’m brash
And possess such panache!)
By the way, want a bridge in Manhattan?
They’ve been conned by a dishonest creep,
Incredible, they’re still asleep.
It’s a corporate coup,
And they’ll suffer, too.
Way too late when they wake up and weep.
The mountain path rose like a stair,
But it led to a grizzly bear’s lair.
What I did not foresee
Was that good-tasting me
Would become that damn bear’s dinner fare.
I wonder if what is out there
Is more than a tad bit aware
Than I think it should be?
All the stuff that I see
Might be giving me also a stare.
Dolly Parton has got quite a pair.
When I see them I can’t help but stare.
They made her reputation
And caused quite a sensation.
It’s too bad that they’re never seen bare!
Dishonesty
I’m honest enough. I don’t bite,
Although some claim that someday I might.
So–what if that’s true?
What’s a bad guy to do?
Biting good guys is such a delight.
Dishonesty and beyond:
If your numbers are far from exact
Counting crowds that aren’t madding or packed
You aren’t lying, or wrong
And your nose won’t grow long –
It’s just an Alternative Fact.
Dead George Orwell, my muse in a dream
Said, “Something I missed, it would seem:
All that Newspeak galore,
Still Nineteen Eighty-Four
Lacks ‘Alternative Facts’ (today’s meme)”.
Aldous Huxley, deep down in his grave
Rolls over, thinks “When I wrote Brave
New World – in a daze –
If I’d thought of that phrase
I’d have earned all the praise that I crave”.
Edited version (punctuation correction)
I can’t help it, I just have to stare
At the President’s combed-over hair.
I believe it’s insane
To keep sporting that mane
But apparently he doesn’t care.
Dishonest? Nah, that isn’t me.
I swear, what you get’s what you see.
Look, the wig on my head
Is an orangey-red,
And the message it spells is “To Pee”.
All you guys, be aware and beware:
When your lady, descending the stair,
In her frock looks a mess,
And she asks, “Like the dress?”
Tell the truth? Are you nuts? Don’t you dare!
My limerick is here:
Treading Plodder – A rhyming bill on the dreaded ‘mill
Thanks for the prompt!
She stood by the uppermost stair;
Then rode down the banister bare.
Her lover’s surmise
From the look in her eyes:
“She’s warming my dinner with care.”
You shouldn’t just wander and stare
At sunbathers, happy and bare;
And snicker, to boot.
So take off your suit;
Exposing the truth, if you dare.
“Alternative facts” are just lies,
They’re deceit in attempted disguise.
You must pay attention;
Don’t lose comprehension.
You’ll believe the bulls–t otherwise.
Dishonesty isn’t a thing
You’d brag about facing a king.
Trump’s minions, however,
Mendacious and clever,
Are kneeling and kissing his ring.
“Mr. Trump? We have all heard you bellow
That you don’t enjoy showers of yellow…
But the truth must be told:
Are you Russian-controlled?”
Said Trump: “это не твое дело!”
“The American people don’t care,”
She said, with her lizardy stare,
“’bout how much Donald earns,
Or his old tax returns;
The election is over. Move on!”
“Excuse me, Ms. Conway? I think
Your last line’s a bit out of sync:
You began fairly strong,
But the ending went wrong…”
“Oh, nonsense,” she said with a blink;
“It’s either your memory’s gone,
Or else your a typical pawn
Of the liberal left
As they ponder the theft
Of the President’s popular mandate.”
“Ms. Conway, we’re willing to swear
That the word of the week should be ‘stare’;
And we also should note
that the popular vote
Went to Hillary, just to be fair.”
“Ha! More of the the bigotry AND hate
You showed Mr. Trump as a cand’date!
But to be quite exact,
The Alternative Fact
Is the rhyme word has always been ‘jobs’.”
“Will Laughlin, the ‘Limerick Times’:
This may be the least of your crimes,
But your limerick Word-
Of-The-Week is absurd:
You can’t just go making up rhymes.”
“If we say it’s a
Limerick,” said Kelly Ann,
“It’s a limerick.”
“I’m sorry, Ms. Conway, but you
Just gave us a dreadful haiku;
If you don’t want to rhyme,
You’re just wasting our time,
So I guess we’ll just bid you adieu.”
“Now, don’t you go turning your backs,
You liberal media hacks!
You’d better be nicer
To me and Sean Spicer,
Or… or… ohhhh, Satan! This wasn’t in the agreement!!”
“Oh, Kelly,” Beelzebub said,
“Be quiet and come back to bed.
It’s tragic you’ve twigged
That the contract is rigged,
But I am, after all, Lyin’ Ted.”
******
(In case it isn’t clear, Kelly Ann’s verses are deliberately flat-footed.)
While Nixon claimed “I’m not a crook” –
His eyes had that scurrilous look.
Now Trump wields his axe
With “alternative facts”;
As if he had written the book.
Why, yes, Mr. T., you can stare
At those millions of hats that we wear —
For an ocean of pink
Is much nicer, we think,
Than those great gaps of white in the square!
Alternative facts are so crass!
Their users lack wit, sense and class —
But oh, how they’ll grieve
When the web that they weave
Trips them up and they fall on their (_|_) !
George Washington’s cherry tree
A symbol of dishonesty
were the cherries on G. Dubya’s tree
though George hacked it down
the fruit scent was profound
and yet lingers in the District of C.
The Donald’s devoid of all tact
And humility he’s always lacked
But what I most despise
Are his ludicrous lies
Which he sells as “alternative fact”.
My brain had no time to prepare
As my eyes could do nothing but stare
Some new rhymes had dropped in
Yes, like magic, popped in
Will T. Laughlin stopped in from somewhere!
Oh my golly, you gave me a scare!
Your appearances these days are rare
All your talent we’ve missed
So we just reminisced
‘Cause you rhymed with a twist and such flair.
Take your coat off and pull up a chair
And please make some more rhymes if you dare
Oh, your limerick clout
Is just magic, no doubt
Just keep pulling them out of thin air!
The White House guard paused on the stair:
He thought he’d heard voices up there —
A woman’s voice, hootin’
What sounded like, “PUTIN!”
He crept up the stairway with care…
‘Twas Melania’s voice, without doubt.
But what could that shout be about?
He heard her go on:
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Don:
Take out. Now Putin. Now take out…”
In that popular song about “Bass”,
We were told a particular place
Invited a stare:
Her big derriere;
No treble – like tits or a face.
Again, combining both themes (and a hat-tip to Brian):
Dear Kelly Ann Conway: I swear
On my best day, I never would dare
To tap-dance like you
Claiming something is true.
Admiringly yours,
— Fred Astaire
When she left the guest washroom’s bad air
Partygoers could not help but stare
What a sight! What a fright!
Her brown skirt was tucked tight
In the back of her white underwear!
She had a magnificent pair;
Pursuers would longingly stare
At their near-perfect size;
A wondrous prize
For collectors of earrings so rare.
To Dave Johnson:
You deceived us with words that you utter
Made our hearts temporarily flutter
Watched your lewdness unwind
Till we fin’lly did find
That we each had our mind in the gutter.
When it’s climate change, Trump doesn’t care
He just sits there and gives a blank stare
With this outlook, the earth
For all that it’s worth
Like his head, will be full of hot air.
Not sure if this fits the “dishonest” theme, but I’ll let you be the judge. Oh, wait – you ARE the judge!! 😜
When Trump first travelled to Mexico,
He said this to Seńor Nieto:
“When I get elected
Wall will be erected.”
And soon Congress will ask, “where’s Wall-Dough?!”
The dentist said, “Hop in the chair,
Give us a smile if you dare!
Oh, this one looks bad!
Now please don’t get mad.
You know you shouldn’t drink on the stair.”
Old grandpa rocked in his chair.
He looked Grim, at the news, with a stare
At the crime rates in town
Which went up, never down.
“Hell, they’ll shoot till the ghetto is bare”.
I suspect that Trump lies when he speaks
About Vlad and the lev’rage he seeks.
“Money, hookers and pee?
He’s got nothing on me!”
Pity Trump; he’s been damaged by leaks.
Said Joe, when a thief stole his glass eye,
“Looks like the Good Book just don’t apply.
But he still ain’t gone see
not a bit better’n me,
’cause I coated that sucker with black dye.”
A con man can easily pitch
His scam in a true bait and switch.
We’re living it now;
Trump’s “Great Again” vow
Gets lost as we head for the ditch.
To Suzanne Heymann:
My post wasn’t meant to deceive,
Misconstrue with intent to conceive
An erroneous impression;
It’s just an expression
To tweak what we seek to believe.
@Suzanne, 12/25: Thank you.
November the 8th: as I stare
At my screen, I succumb to despair.
The depression and pain
Are far more of a strain
Than my poor sense of humor can bear.
Yes, I’ve been away for a span;
And that is the reason, Suzanne.
I’m not, I admit,
Fully out of the Pit,
But I’m doing the best that I can.
When he opens his pie hole we hear
“Now give me a thunderous cheer”.
And nobody beats
His man-baby tweets
For turning the world on its ear.
It’s hard not to giggle and stare
At his pinkies and Halloween hair.
But we cannot abide
That dictator side;
With his cartoon agenda laid bare.
I think I’ve deciphered a stare
from he of the gigantic pair.
That look is, in fact
designed to detract
your eyes from that stylish orange hair
To Dave Johnson’s 3:55 pm response:
The error is lying within
My own head, and I’m guilty as sin
I can’t figure out why
My own logic is dry
So I guess, though I try, I can’t win!
To Will:
I should throw myself down a steep stair
For prompting your kindness to share
I do hope your pain does
Disappear soon, because,
Of your struggle, I was not aware.
Trumpty Dumpty, he ran on a wall;
He said Mexico’d pay, I recall —
But that orange-haired liar
Set OUR pants on fire
By making us pay for it all.
When the king (of her roots unaware)
His esteem for this maid did declare,
She made breath-taking news
By saving the Jews —
Sound familiar?…
[Wait for it!]
They called her…
[Hey, no one said it had to be all in English!]
אֶסְתֵּר
A classic rock fan named Janelle
Went down to her basement, but fell.
Her Led Zeppelin flair
Was smashed on the stair,
And now it’s a stairway to hell.
“The president isn’t quite right!”
A protester yelled through the night.
“His stupid-ass plans
Are just like his hands–
Both lies, and they’re little and white!”
The 80s saw me as a tyke
Use words such as “bogus” and “like”
Even lying was fun–
When your sentence was done,
You’d wait a beat, then utter, “SYKE!”
(Now playing locally)
In the morning we go out and stare
At an ice dam reforming right there.
Up a ladder we go,
Chip away at the foe;
No sneaking down into our lair.
At the onion-skinned monster we glare
As he stands at the top of the stair
In his present endeavor.
Say never forever
Until he is no longer there.
They always had something to hide
That crazy pair, Bonnie and Clyde
Well, dishonesty got ’em
Until the cops caught ’em
And promptly had shot ’em; both died.
To Suzanne re: 01/26 7:41 pm
Possessing the mind of a sinner
Can often be viewed as a winner.
While naughty but fun
Might not please everyone,
They laugh at our limericks at dinner.
For Senor Enrique Pena Nieto
Words from an unlikely hero.
to the king with honesty sub zero.
Said he, “Si, Meester Trump,
steeck dees wall up your rump.
You’ll get none of my freekin’ dinero!”
When he and his bride tied the knot
Their relations were frequent and hot.
They made love on the stair.
Standing up. In a chair.
The result: a bad back is his lot.
I gawk and I gape and I stare.
I slobber and drool and despair.
My brain has been blanked.
Equanimity’s tanked.
All because of that bare derriere.
With shysters, here’s how it all plays:
“Just trust me” their best working phrase.
Trump uses it most;
But now he can boast
A new one; it’s “Mexico pays”.
It’s Just Not Fair! (quote from a Tweeter) ~
On facebook, my poor aching stare
Has been worn out by words like “derriere. “
(That’s an alt-definition
Of words whose omission
Would make like much pleasanter there.)
Get The to Anonery ~
We should all denounce someone dishonest,
When his bullying’s hard-pressed uponust,
Full of alt-tuthy lies.
Then this status applies:
A persona non grata annonest.
Miss Trudy is as bald as a pear–
but to me she is precious and rare;
her cranium’s as round as ball
and they tell me she looks like a doll
but they’ll never get used to her stare.
In a relationship, there must
Be honesty, respect and trust
His cheating heart
Drove us apart
Now all my dreams have turned to dust
When Godiva paraded, all bare,
The townsfolk agreed not to stare.
But the temptation was steep
And young Tom took a peep
But swore he just looked at her hair.
World leaders continue to stare
At the man with the ludicrous hair:
They find it bewild’rin’
That refugee children
Give Trump such a pants-wetting scare.
TRUMP ISSUES HOLOCAUST REMEMBRANCE
AND OMITS THE WORD ‘JEWS’
At the Holocaust Statement I stare:
Something’s missing, that ought to be there.
At this rate, I fear
That the Statement next year
Will read simply: “What Holocaust? Where?”
There’s a thing that is topped with a straw nest
Has its own amateur hair salonist
It starts with a T
And it ends with a P
It’s a synonym word for ‘dishonest.’
His horn-rims, bow tie and slicked hair
Are so retro that people just stare.
He’s been growing rotund-er
Which leads me to wonder
How someone so round can be square.
Ever notice how little kids stare?
They don’t know that it’s rude; they don’t care
But once they get older
They must be less bolder
A burden their shoulder will bear.
But when a man stares at a lady
It implies his intentions are shady
It may seem he has guile
With a dishonest smile
In true crocodile style; be afraidy!
If you REALLY want me to not stare
Split the pair if you dare and then share
So I may if I might
Grab the one on the right
I would lick first, then bite your éclair.
(Sorry, Mad — I stole the rhyme scheme from your Trump Carnage limerick)
O Voters, attend to my verse!
Politicians who lie are a curse;
But we’ve learned (as we’re hurled
Toward the End of the World)
That Trump being honest is worse.
I feel his eyes. Men often dare
To look at me. I know they stare.
But this man comes near!
He leans toward my ear!
“Madam, you have taken my chair!”
He’s down at the beach (skies are fair)
With a minuscule bag and his chair.
Why’s that sack so darn small?
It’s just sunscreen—that’s all;
Seems he’s loaded for bare so don’t stare.
Crap, as soon as I posted it, I saw something I had meant to change. Would you be a dear (as always) and change L1 for me. It should read:
He’s down at the beach (skies are fair)
Thanks.
From MBK: Done.
Deep Drinking Thinking ~
Dishonesty isn’t my style,
But, of course, if you listen a while,
You might hear some alts
As I down a few malts,
Then watch out—cause it makes a deep pile.
— or, more in keeping with my original thought —
UnDeeply Thinking ~
Dishonesty isn’t his style,
But, of course, if you read them a while,
You’ll notice some faults
In his Tweets full of alts,
So watch out—cause they makes a deep pile.
Scarlett stood at the very top stair
Dressed to kill and descending with flair
Then she stumbled; oh-oh!
Upside down she did go
And revealed she had no underwear!
In Wisconsin, I stopped, had to stare
At a milk-maid who looked oh so fair.
She was full of much sass.
Wouldn’t call her an ass,
Though she did have a nice dairy-air. (derriere)
There’s a teller of fortunes named Rawls,
And his method routinely appalls
All his clients, who stare.
He pulls down underwear
And then looks at his two crystal balls.
There’s a flooring that seems to beguile
Folks who see it because it has style.
People stop and they stare
Because each single square
Contains poetry; it’s versatile.
The auto mechanic of mine
Was lying and had to resign.
Said the wheels are not straight
On my car. I just hate
When he’s trying to feed me align.
Pure evil resides in Steve Bannon
He’s a danger, a really loose cannon
There dishonesty thrives
With his lies, guns and knives
And laws wrecking your lives he is plannin’.
Our “leader” will now get his fill
Of the view from the top of the hill.
To honor his tricks,
Maybe we can affix
His face on a three dollar bill.
Politicians have tried to disguise
Their false statements, a ploy I despise.
They’re not alternate facts
Or fake news. Each distracts
From the truth. They are just simply lies!
Thanks so much everyone for another fun two weeks of limericks. This Limerick-Off is officially over. And the winner is… Limerick-Off Award.
Congratulations to our Limerick-Off Award Winner, the Dishonesty-Themed Limerick Winner, and to the Honorable Mention winners.
But you can still have lots of limerick fun because a new Limerick-Off has just begun: Limerick-Off Meet.