Limerick-Off Monday – Rhyme Word: Made/Maid 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 Made or Maid 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 Intelligence, using any rhyme scheme. And of course I’ll present an extra award — one for the best Intelligence-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 May 14, 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, May 13, 2017 at 10:00 p.m. (Eastern Time.)
Here’s my limerick:
Berating his maid, the man brayed:
“Just why is my bed still unmade?
Your house-cleaning sucks,
And I pay you big bucks.
Lucky thing I already got laid!”
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, Domestic Help, Limerick Challenge, Limerick Contest, Maids Humor, Poetry & Prompts, Sex Humor, Writing Prompts
A young fellow thought he had it made.
At long last, he was gonna get laid.
But his plans were soon thwarted
And his mission aborted
When she said that she had to be paid.
She’s a highly intelligent lass,
Right up there at the head of the class.
But the guys aren’t impressed.
They prefer her undressed.
All they want is a good piece of ass.
Does intelligence live in D.C.?
Well, no, not according to me.
The Prez is a putz
And it’s driving me nuts
That he gets all his “facts” from TV!
The election Trump’s already won
Oh, America, what have you done?
For mistakes he has made
All the blame will be laid
On intelligence, since he has none.
Remember this wisdom, my friend:
Though we know that a belch may offend
And it isn’t that smart
Still, it would be a fart
If it came out the opposite end.
Of course, a limerick is made:
T’was a servant, and how she got laid
By the man of the house,
A bully, cheating louse,
And how blackmail money was paid.
In elections, great pledges are made.
Soon after, the people are betrayed.
It’s almost assumed,
Our hopes, always doomed,
The corporate supporters get paid.
There once was a smart, sultry maid,
Who made sure that her rich boss got laid.
She gave sweet, extra perks,
He paid well for her works,
Her great skills were all tongue and handmade.
A sweet lass thought she had it made,
Found a soul mate, alas he betrayed.
Thought her intellect charmed,
And her kindness, disarmed;
All the guy wanted was to get laid.
There once was a comely young maid,
Whose charms were quite plainly displayed.
But her boss couldn’t score
When he asked her for more,
She replied, “That’s beyond my pay grade.”.
Gimme a damned lemonade!
Said the man, with rudeness displayed.
The waitress, smart lass,
Put his glass near her ass.
You can guess how his order got made.
(Double)
“I’m so smart,” the new President brayed,
“That in all of the deals that I made
I shafted my buyers,
My staff and suppliers –
I got rich, but the other guys paid.”
Mad, is it just me, or is there a glitch? When I try to link to the current Facebook page, I get the current award-winners’ page, not the new limerick page.
*****
From MBK:
Thanks for alerting me to my error, Brian. I inadvertently pointed to the wrong Facebook post. I’ve fixed the links in this post, now, so that they’re pointing to the correct Facebook contest link.
He said “bring me a cold lemonade,
And a scone with some orange marmalade.”
Then she gave him a look
That was one for the book,
And said “you get it. I’m not your maid!”
Frye(d)
As the festival’s plans were delayed
And the vendors had fought to be paid
Since the party collapsed
Like a drunk who relapsed,
The repayments will have to be made!
Into the cold ocean he’d wade.
For swimming he was not made.
He was always too thin.
Sharks want more than just skin.
Pro bono -no, they had to be paid.
An immaculate explanation
Though pregnant, she tried to persuade
Her husband she’d never been laid.
Many people believed
That a virgin conceived,
And thus a religion was made.
(An old one revised)
His ‘rocket’ was proudly displayed,
And he’d managed at last to persuade
The young lady to swallow,
But sadly, ‘Apollo’
Collapsed, and the shot wasn’t made.
For the party, I needed some aid,
So I hired a pretty young maid
To prepare food and drink.
Well, what do you think?
Not only the table was laid.
My MAID poem is here:
Excruciating Expression Expects Exit
Thanks for the limerick prompt!
When God first created a man,
Intelligence wasn’t his plan,
But he added a brain,
Although some might complain
He forgot one for poor Kellyanne.
The Intelligence chiefs were dismayed;
The Commander was planning a raid.
“Where’s Korea?” he mumbled,
Then cursed as he fumbled –
“My little red button’s mislaid!”
(Another old one – waste not, want not)
Balboa was quite unafraid
As the massacred tribe he surveyed.
“Their wives and their daughters?
They’ll blame it on Cortez –
Thank Keats, and the error he made!”
Juanita Gluck is my new maid
She claimed to have accidentally “mislaid”
My Beretta pistol
And valuable crystal
So I killed her with a can of Raid
She knew that her beauty would fade
By the time she became an old maid,
So quickly she pitched
To become safely hitched
To one of the field she had played.
A maiden who hired a maid
Soon neighed she had not made the grade;
‘She stayed far too staid
And too often prayed;
No joy she displayed, I’m afraid.’
Not a duplicate
Juanita Gluck is my maid
She said she accidentally “mislaid”
My costly Beretta pistol
And some of my valuable crystal
So I killed her with a can of Raid
We were so glad we made
The requirements for Medicade
But it only covered our nose
Something they did not disclose
I’d say we were definitely played
NOT A DUPLICATE: A CORRECTION OF PRONOUNS
I was so glad that I made
The requirements for Medicade
But it only covered MY nose
(Something they did not disclose)
I’d say that I was definitely played
UNFORTUNATE INTELLIGENCE
At college I’m “Mr. Smarts”
I’m at the top of the IQ charts
But my “prof” said I stink
And he knows that I drink
And he can’t stand my relentless farts
He leered at the pretty young maid
Saying “Darlin’ why are you so staid?”
She started to cry
As she gave her reply
“The coppers are planning a raid”
It’s Curtains For Collins!
He was deaf to cliché he displayed
In his poem for which he was paid
And the laureate bragged
As his idiom dragged
And detracted from verse he had made!
Instead of a shrieking tirade
When his wife found him swiving the maid
She asked him to pardon her
To meet with the gardener
Who “ploughs my rich furrow each day.”
They think that I’m just a dumb mutt
Who can’t learn any tricks at all, but
I think that it’s time
To bust out a sick rhyme
Like a limerick…wait a sec – what?
The bordello he chose was top-grade,
The amenities worth all he paid.
There was wi-fi for free,
Comfy bed, big TV,
And free cookies and cake, all ho-made.
I’ve a brain the size of a flea
Learning never came easy for me
But I’ve a heart of gold
Which is worth, so I’m told
Far more than any fancy degree
My jeweler said ” This Imperial Jade
Is the finest in the world ever made”
But when I brought it back
With its CRACKER JACK
I returned in a total tirade
“Stay the night,” said the rake to the maid,
And, against her best judgment, she stayed.
“I won’t touch you,” he said —
But she woke in his bed,
Not only dis-maid, but betrayed.
Now Kevin was King of the Quiz,
At trivia really a whizz
The answers came fast
And life was a blast
But he met his demise in Cadiz.
He thought that his future was made
But he knelt down and piously prayed
“Oh Father in Heaven
Please send six or seven
Young ladies who want to be laid”.
I put an ad in for a maid
Who is reliable and very staid
But when she walked in
With a toothless grin
She said “I thought you said decayed”
Her brain was the size of a flea
Her cup size, a huge Double ‘D’
She wasn’t that dumb,
Success was to come
Flaunting her assets on page three.
People thought to elect him was smart;
But an adjective’s only one part
Of speech “smart” can be;
If you’re smart, then you’ll see —
Verb, like “hurt;” noun, like “pain” (in our heart).
“It’s May Day! I’m off now,” cried Jade,
“To dance and disport in the glade.”
Said her mom, to her sorrow,
“No, May Day’s tomorrow;
It’s April” — and Jade was dis-Mayed.
Oh darn, Madeleine, that’s “Said her mom” — there should be a “fix that butterfingers” option. Fix it, please?
*****
From MBK: Fixed.
There once was a fellow named Art
Whose IQ score was way off the chart.
After months watching Fox
Spew their stuff on the box
He’s a house plant — but not quite as smart.
A ship-wrecked couple who displayed
Reluctance when contact was made,
Explained their position
Facilitated coition
So not really marooned, just mis-laid.
Paradise Island
She was known for a role that she played,
A whip-cracking, dominant maid
Whose hard leather crop
Was not merely a prop
When the time came for her to be paid.
As Presidents go, I’m so smart.
My brain power sets me apart.
It’s true that my thinkin’s
More bigly than Lincoln’s.
I belong at the top of the chart.
Fake media call me bombastic.
They’re wrong, Folks. You know I’m fantastic.
So let’s have some fun.
I’ll call up Kim Jung Un.
I’ll threaten to do something drastic.
I’m the best when it comes to deflection
Away from that Russian connection.
Though it’s not really bad
To be palling with Vlad,
I’ll give them that old misdirection.
My intelligence keeps me ahead.
Keep ’em guessing. Make sure they’re misled.
Every day, a new story.
That’s Trump’s shining glory.
Now who can I quote that is dead?
To please her new master the maid
Got down on her knees and obeyed
His every command
Taking him in hand
Then oh my, how well she B J’d.
As a damsel she was a fine maid.
After cleaning she’d rest in the shade
Of her dragon, her lord,
With his sparkling rich horde
And pretend he’s a knight, but well-paid.
Though my heart tries to tell my dumb brain
It is smarter to act less insane,
It insists when it’s right
It will fight, day or night,
Taunt the cop, tease the judge, pop more pain.
SADIE’S LEMON CHICKEN AT THE JERSEY SHORE
I was so pleased I made
My lemon chicken “a la Sade”
I added lemon oil
To be sure it wouldn’t spoil
Everyone threw up on the boardwalk promenade
REVISION OF PREVIOUS LIMERICK (used “lemon” twice)
Sadie’s Chicken at the Jersey shore:
I was so pleased that I made
My famous chicken “a la Sade”
I added lemon oil
So it wouldn’t spoil
Then everyone threw up on the boardwalk promenade
SECOND REVISION NOT A DUPLICATE
“SADIE’S CHICKEN AT THE JERSEY SHORE’
I was so pleased that I made
My famous chicken “a la Sade”
I added lemon oil
Making sure it wouldn’t spoil
Then ALL MY GUESTS threw up on the boardwalk promenade
The Bridal March already played
And the groom looked so fine dressed in suede
But the bride ran away
And the groom in dismay
Took the next best and married the maid.
I felt so utterly betrayed
When Suzanna my loyal maid
Didn’t show at all
Not even a telephone call !
Seems she was at the “Mop, Dust, Shine and Wax Vacuum Parade”
Now Comey, they tell us, is gone.
Here’s something worth pondering on:
When Nixon fired Cox,
He wound up in a box.
That wasn’t intelligent, Don.
When she caught Elvis boffing the maid,
She made sure he would soon be repaid:
She took an old shoe,
Smeared the sole with fresh poo,
And she trampled his lovely blue suede.
For eagles quite sick, he had paid.
For sheep that were female, he’d trade.
Certain parts, when assembled,
A rough gull, it resembled.
An ill eagle ewe tern he’d made.
On a plate after meals, are arrayed
Chinese cookies; chef’s handsomely paid.
Since his business has grown,
It is rather well known
That many small fortunes were made.
Electricians are masters of trade,
But they certainly don’t have it made.
The news is quite jolting,
To them it’s re-volting,
‘Cause they say, “We re-fuse to get paid.”
To museums computers are hauled
To judge paintings. Some folks are enthralled.
They are smart, earn acclaim
And this relevant name:
“Art official intelligence” they’re called.
The cashier uses lots of eloquence
When she rings up a sale with relevance.
She’s a CIA spy
Who is smart. That is why
People say it is counter intelligence.
He had tried, but he couldn’t persuade
A l’il sleep with the buxomy maid
Then his face just went yellow
When hearing her bellow,
“I’m just a plain fellow named Wade!”
‘Twas a very bad marriage he made
I don’t care if I never get paid
Got a cat full of fuzz
For my husband, who does
Not believe that it was a fair trade.
When the troops come and start to invade
We will shock them with many a maid
Wearing only a smile
They are sure to beguile
That’s when our men will pile in and raid!
Reassuring the quivering maid
He said, “Just relax, don’t be afraid.”
She said, “I’ve a weak heart.”
So he said, “I’ll jumpstart
When I reach that one part; let’s get laid!”
When Juliet’s heart broke in half
She did not see it coming (his gaffe)
That’s when Romeo farted
The audience started
To howl, come apart and just laugh.
With intelligence, sometimes it means
Before acting, don’t eat any beans
Or your acting is finished
Your hopes are diminished
You’re better off eating pralines!
For years, women never got paid
The same wage for the same work men made
Till that changes, let’s taunt,
Go on strike till they’re gaunt
And refuse if they want to get laid!
Now Iceland’s the best place to be
Go ahead, google that and you’ll see
Intelligent women
Are pretty much brimmin’
With pride; they’ve the same pay as “he.”
At rest in the afternoon shade,
A stand selling cold lemonade.
Though things have been rotten
These lemons I’ve gotten
Turned into a beverage I’ve made.
I expected a pro, not a maid.
“Lemme in if you wanna get laid.
This hotel is so snobby
Must sneak through the lobby—
That and you are just tricks of the trade.”
Well the call to Kim Jong un was made
But the test was not cancelled but stayed.
And Kim said to Don
“Opportunity’s gone”
Yet Don rained on his pissy parade.
Like · Reply · Just now
Some folks call me the old maid
But you can bet I’m not dismayed
I dated Clark Gable
He was willing and able
And I was there when Minsky’s had its infamous raid
Each day a new immigrant raid
Departures go on as you bade
Civil servants are fired
Your supporters are ired
Now, look at the bed that you’ve made!
Hi, Mad!
I’ve been looking at the limerick I posted for over a week and have tweaked it a number of times; however, almost as soon as I posted it, I decided I like “just” rather than “two” in L5. Will you be your usual sweet self and change it for me?
Thanks, Konrad
*****
From MBK: Yeah, I agree. Just is better. I changed it.
I hope you don’t mind, but while I was at it, I changed “Gotta” to “must” to get rid of the 3rd unstressed syllable between lines 3 and 4. Hope you’re okay with that!
Thanks, Mad, but you’re not allowed to pick it now.
For Mother’s Day? No, I’m afraid
I don’t want any gift, bought or made,
Or a night on the town —
Please, just let me lie down
On the grass, with a book, in the shade.
The smartest thing suitors can do
When deciding a maiden to woo:
Don’t just dwell on her looks
Or the things that she cooks —
Please praise her intelligence, too.
“Where’s intelligence? Gone down the drain?”
Cry the Dems about Donald Trump’s brain
Gone to hell (since you ask it)
Right in a handbasket
Then into a casket of pain!
His cleaning girl could not be swayed
And she tired of his bids to persuade
Then while dusting last week
He pinched her butt cheek
She bolted, which left him dis-maid
A banker, though proper and staid,
Let loose with an overpriced aide.
She seemed more than willing,
Enjoying his drilling.
Once laid, she’s NOW worth what she’s paid.
Intelligence – so underrated
It’s constantly being debated
Being stupid is in
Being smart is a sin
Being good’s never been so outdated.
Just look at the recent election
It was worse than a viral infection
A disease that would choose
To cause votes to refuse
Common sense, and to lose the connection.
A sly shopkeep, a baker by trade,
Had a helper, a doughy young maid.
On his bread-making bench,
He defloured the wench,
“I was kneading,” he said, “to get laid.”
The hotel guests, no matter how staid,
When they saw her, all asked to get laid.
She obliged them: about
Sixty seconds and out.
And that’s why she’s called “Minute Maid.”
I was born not a very smart fella,
My head’s soft, like a mega marshmella.
When they offered me brains
I was sure they said “rains”
And I asked for a purple umbrella.
I’m not sure how this nonsensical limerick will be perceived.
The theme is intelligence. I think it may be acceptable to make fun of someone who has intelligence, but is not using it to full potential. But is it acceptable to make fun of someone who has limited intelligence? Today’s climate of “Can’t-Unintentionally-Hurt-Anyone’s-Feelings-Ever” has me wondering. Thoughts?
*****
From MBK: I don’t find it offensive. It’s a limerick, after all. Besides, how limited can one be if one can write a well-structured limerick? :)
Thanks so much everyone for another fun two weeks of limericks. This Limerick-Off is officially over. And the winner is… Limerick-Off Award 277.
Congratulations to our Limerick-Off Award Winner, the Intelligence-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 Ride.