***** All New LIMERICK-OFF ***** Limerick-Off Monday – Rhyme Word: REST or WREST or ARREST 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 REST or WREST or ARREST 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 GUILT, using any rhyme scheme. And of course I’ll present an extra award — one for the best guilt-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 October 1, 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, September 30, 2017 at 10:00 p.m. (Eastern Time.)
Here’s my limerick:
A fellow attempting to rest,
Told his girlfriend, “Your parrot’s a pest!
“So it’s him or it’s me!”
“I’m setting you free,”
She responded, “Go find a new nest!”
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: Bird Humor, Competition Limerick, Date Humor, Limerick Challenge, Limerick Contest, Parrots, Poetry & Prompts, Writing Prompts
From limericks we’ve taken a rest
But now with a fresh lively zest
We welcome you back
Let’s get back on track!
Mad Kane, you’re simply THE BEST!
For this historic occasion, a limerick of historical events:
The Lionheart Sleeps Tonight ~
Br’er John the Usurper knew best:
If the Lionheart were put to rest,
He could return n’er to
The throne he was heir to
And England would feather John’s nest.
Two Flew Out of the Cuckoos’ Nest ~
Her young husband though it would be best
To move out of her folks’ cuckoo’s nest.
Putting caution to flight,
She got pregnant that night.
Now their home’s an asylum sans rest.
We the Jury Don’t Find the Defendant ~
Throughout history, crime never stops,
And who do we call on? The cops.
Though we find jury duty
Makes most of us moody,
We’re guilty if justice flip-flops.
The Day They Raided Mar-a-Lago
He stared with mixed horror and zest
As they bundled the Prez off, half-dressed;
But his wife closed her eyes
And sighed, “THAT’s no surprise:
He SAID he was here for a-rest!”
Beau Jests ~
In lim’ricks, the worst are oft’ best
And their scent can put roses to rest.
Perhaps poetry’s pall,
Some are like a foul ball
That goes deep, although most are beaux gestes.
In the Lim’rick Patch ~
My limericks are gen’rally lilty.
As for grammar faux-pas—yes, I’m guilty.
For in spite of reproach,
I’ve a patchwork approach,
And my grammar is frequently quilty.
Allaying my STRESSED with DESSERTS
Brings a problem that’s hard to reverse:
The GUILT that I feel
Over chocolate is real,
And TLIUG just makes matters worse.
Writing Wrist Wrenched ~
Her wrist, nearly wrenched from the rest,
Being wrested from all it liked best
At behest of the pain
Needed rest to regain
Freedom from the arrest of its zest.
Our rabbit thinks she’s the best
and likes to give us a test
pick her up in the night
without having her fight
if we pass, well then we can rest
Said Trump, “You should give it a rest
This Russian connection inquest,”
But Mueller declined
Saying he was inclined,
To gauge the guilt that this plea might suggest.
(Double)
The Donald is under arrest!
“I am guilty as charge”, he confessed.
Now he’s rotting in jail
Sewing bags for the mail …
Then I woke from my dream, quite depressed.
He was driving, one hand on her breast,
And her blowjob was truly the best;
But the car hit a bump,
And she bit the poor chump …
I hardly need tell you the rest
Trump’s gold-lust can never be sated;
Just touching it makes him elated.
Every loo he’s had built
Is the proof of his gilt,
And even his shit is gold-plated.
“Our Prez is the greatest, the best!”
Cried his voters. Who were they? You’ve guessed –
White supremacist scum
Who would lick Donald’s bum,
Nazi creeps, KKK, and the rest.
I decided I needed a rest
From that evil fake-President pest,
So I tried to compose
A sweet Ode to a Rose,
But my keyboard is Donald-obsessed.
If The Donald was doing his best,
Then you think he’d by now’ve passed the test.
He seems far too carefree;
So can’t we all agree
To put him under “White House” arrest?
You will say that I’m guilty, no doubt,
Of alternative facts when I shout:
“Look! I’ve just seen a pig
In a bright orange wig
Who is sniffing cocaine through his snout!”
Well, by now I am utterly stressed.
Bloody Trump! I must give him a rest.
Bloody Donald! I think
I’m in need of a drink –
A strong Bloody Mary’s the best.
As she lies on the bed, prone, undressed,
I admire her ass and one breast,
Then move to resume
While I’m still in full bloom,
But she yells out, “Hey give it a rest!”
Said the sheriff, “You’re under arrest,
For I’m free at the Donald’s behest.
We’re Knights of the Grail
Putting wetbacks in jail
And we won’t be deterred in our quest.”
At the start he was only a pest
‘Til the time that he fondled her breast.
She said “that’s quite enough,
I’m not taking that stuff.”
And she had placed under arrest.
She was known as the Queen of the West.
Lots of men she would put to the test.
She could get any guy
To zip open his fly,
And she never would stop for a rest!
CORRECTED VERSION:
At the start he was only a pest
‘Til the time that he fondled her breast.
She said “that’s quite enough,
I’m not taking that stuff.”
And she had him placed under arrest.
I’ve Trump fatigue, I need a rest,
I’m exhausted, gone way beyond stressed.
He’s one big disaster,
A cruelty master.
Can’t talk of this- getting depressed!
He’s dead now, in peace may he rest.
At ninety years, who would have guessed!
Hot sex did him in,
He died with a grin.
The young guys are surely impressed.
“Young lady, you’re under arrest!
Though lovely, you can’t show your breast.
I am the police,
You’re disturbing the peace.
Though I must say, I am quite impressed.”
The gal just would not take a rest,
This lover was surely the best,
But she needed a break
It was all she could take.
“I’m really quite sore”, she confessed.
Every deed, every word he expressed,
With this guy, one was truly impressed.
He was really a prize,
And not just his size,
Head and shoulders above all the rest.
Ode to a Rose
“A rose is a rose is a rose …”
I was proud of my ode – grandiose! –
Till I found the first line
Had been penned by G. Stein,
So I’m guilty of theft, I suppose.
They laid Donald Trump to his rest
In his golfing attire, washed and pressed.
But he jumped up. “Hey, folks,
My death was a hoax –
Fake news, just a journalist’s jest!”
“Ten commandments on stone! What a pain!
My back is on fire again!
Though thy name shall be blest,
Could you give me a rest?”
“Shut the fuck up! THOU SHALT NOT COMPLAIN!”
There once was a young guy named Milt
Who enjoyed living life to the hilt.
Got a nice girl in trouble
And cut out on the double.
He would never admit to his guilt.
After work I try to rest
My job leaves me very stressed
I try to please
And sometimes tease
I’m a “call girl” (You might have guessed)
Miss Temple’s films sure weren’t the best,
Though she said they outranked all the rest.
“They were fun, sweet and warm,
And the art’s highest form!”
So I said to her, “Shirley, you jest.”
Ivanka attempted to wrest
His hand from her pussy. He pressed.
As she squirmed and she wriggled,
The President giggled:
“Quit faking! Your Daddy’s the best.”
At the chance for a nap I am leaping;
Into dreamland I’ll soon be creeping.
As my friends will attest,
I get plenty of rest.
I just never get tired of sleeping.
Vegetarian students attest
They like history more than the rest.
And if you are wise,
You’ll likely surmise
They like Bacon’s Rebellion the best.
When the judge stroked his dick out of view
From the lawyers, it steadily grew.
The judge stroked with fury.
“Not guilty,” said jury.
The defendant got off; the judge, too.
Guilty as Charged:
I think now, your honour, ‘tis best
My case on accused now I rest;
Arrest he resisted;
His wrest was ham-fisted
When grabbing back where he confessed.
A gold-plating org’nization
Was thought guilty by implication.
They had friends who were crooks,
Which drew questioning looks.
It was gilt by association.
Madeleine…many Canadians, like me, are concerned that Trump will push North Korea so hard that it will send a bomb in response, and that Canada, as well as the US, will suffer.
My first attempt at a limerick after a long hiatus…I might manage more, who knows? So…
Of limericks, mine aren’t the best
But I know I just cannot rest
I don’t want to see a
Bomb from North Korea…
This Trump-fear is fouling my nest
Was frustrated as she tried to wrest
His cock out of his pants, she was stressed.
His erection got caught,
Which made her distraught.
When she got it, he had decompressed.
Said the cat to the writer hard-pressed:
“Who works harder? I have the best test:
I keep chasing my mouse
All around the damn house,
While yours stays on its pad, safe at rest.”
This heat wave is making me wilt!
There’s a new ice cream parlor they’ve built —
But I mustn’t do that,
Or I’ll really feel fat
And quite overpowered by guilt.
No matter the topic addressed
He brazenly boasts he’s the best
But he should keep quiet
What moron would buy it?
Oh Donald, please give it a rest!
On this man the Republicans doted
And he won, though for him fewer voted
The new White House resident –
A fraud for a president –
Just lies; he’s not “always misquoted”.
Here’s a problem – his past is quite checkered
To any who research his record
They will soon understand
He’s a con artist, and
From the size of his hands, he’s small-peckered.
(I’m sneaking this one in on the grounds that (d)ressed is almost a homophone)
His tailor asked which side he dressed.
Donald told him, “Ya know I detest
Both the left and the middle,
So even to piddle,
I reckon alt-right would be best.”
He crept out at night to molest
Pretty women – the young ones were best.
But the Vice Squad stopped by,
And they handcuffed the guy.
It’s their Captain who’s under arrest.
Petrov — who, when put to the test,
Proved inaction is sometimes the best —
Averted world war,
Then lived thirty-four
More years… and has gone to his rest.
Stanislav Yevgrafovich Petrov — born September 9, 1939; died May 19, 2017; death revealed, September 18, 2017 — was a lieutenant colonel of the Soviet Air Defense Forces, who became known as “the man who single-handedly saved the world from nuclear war” for his role in the 1983 Soviet nuclear false alarm incident.
He had to admit it when pressed.
He envied his lover’s full breast.
They’d watch Rocky Horror;
He couldn’t ignore her.
“She’s sweeter than all of the rest.”
A Scotsman who hiked up his kilt
Was buried in up to the hilt
He said there had been assent
And claimed to be innocent
To cover his obvious guilt
See, screwing in public was his charge
And he had no answer for this charge
Said the cops, “It is best
That you’re under arrest.”
And they whisked him away without discharge.
As with most relations I wrest
With the situation thought best
If one fondles a relation
And feels stimulation
It’s all in the family, incest
Maybe the trick that is best
Is to put myself under arrest
Off to jail I will flee
No cell or TV
No Trump’s tweets, I can finally rest.
I wish I could take a brief rest
from the nutty right-wing. I so stressed
By their devious schemes
And contrivance extremes
Their arousal must be detumesced.
The cop said “You’re under arrest;
You failed the sobriety test.”
She replied “That’s not right,
We weren’t drinking tonight;
Just brownies…and they were the BEST!”
“In… a… BAR?!” the conductor expressed
Consternation. The cellist confessed:
“I’m just SO tired today —
And I did hear you say,
‘At the end of the bar, there’s a rest.'”
Deniers, please give it a rest.
The facts are the ultimate test.
First Harvey then Irma
Submerged terra firma.
And next it’s Maria’s flood crest.
Jenna’s a cop in Centralia,
Who loves her official regalia.
Committing a crime
For the very first time,
You don’t want to see Jenna tail ya.
“Are you sure it’s OK? I’m so stressed,”
Murmured Tom as they kissed and caressed.
“Don’t feel guilty,” said James;
“Mad likes homophone games —
So come here, dear; let’s show her our best!”
When Hungarian roach came to rest,
They all knew that the unwanted guest,
Was about to be killed
By exterminator skilled
With big shoe, that was billed:”Boot-a-Pest”.
Two aggies out walking a breast,
Got tired but just wouldn’t rest,
They walked it all day,
Thinking that the best way,
To pass their anatomy test.
For my dotage I tried to invest
Using shares and compound interest
But financial hard times
Left just nickels and dimes
Although change is as good as rest
Regarding “Pharma Bro” Martin Shkreli:
After jacking the price of a pill,
Now Shkreli can have a new thrill.
In his cell, as of late,
Maybe dwell with a mate
Who’s seeking someone to fulfill.
When he puts his binocs to the test,
Mr Thomas can peep with the best.
While concealing his boners,
This deviant loner’s
Adept at evading arrest.
In my bedroom, I was getting undressed
However, I sensed a certain unrest
The tree trimmer was peeking
And indisputably sneaking
A glance at my voluptuous, ample breast
At the Citizen’s Bank I was very depressed
You might even say, exceedingly stressed
I was overdrawn
They called me a “con”
Then the cops came and made a citizen’s arrest
A wedding I have to attend
My guilt’s driving me round the bend
The groom to be’s
Been shagging me
Now he’s marrying my best friend
“Hellooo” he said, cupping her breast;
“As a hottie, you’re passing the test.”
Her handbag revealed
An officer’s shield;
And Trump was placed under arrest.
I posted a limerick as soon as Mad announced her Limerick-Offs had returned, but this came to mind today. I don’t know why it was hiding. Maybe just ‘fraid.
We’re Baaack ~
Feeling guilty because I delayed
My return to the challenge that’s laid.
I’d have played in good time
But frayed nerves and strayed rhyme
Meant the words that I brayed might be staid.
In the sporran’s where he hid the loot,
A goblet, gold plated–a beaut!
But his kilt came unsealed
And his guilt was revealed.
Or was it his gilt? (The point’s moot.)
Hey Lisa….
While giving her treetops a trim,
On her sundeck, I noticed a limb.
Then my eye came to rest
On her ample left breast
And a knee up revealing her quim.
In my bedroom I was getting undressed
BUT I sensed a certain unrest
The tree trimmer was peeking
And indisputably sneaking
A glance at my ample breast
I can never get a good night’s rest
Because I’m so very depressed
The man who I wed
Is right there in my bed
But refuses to get undressed
Some people are weak, some are good
Some do chores in the order they should
Some give in to the yen
To put paper to pen
When they ought to be bucking up wood
Poor ol’ Donald, he’s feeling distressed
To remain out of jail is his quest
But he’s harried by laws
Like th’ emoluments clause
Could it be that he’s due for a rest?
When texting while driving, you might
Observe an unfortunate sight.
A car in the mirror
Gets closer and clearer
Then flashes its red and blue light.
Early home I surprised husband Milt.
I could tell right away he felt guilt.
Although he sure tried
He just couldn’t hide
That curvaceous lump under the quilt.
He shocked her and innocence, took.
Her virtue, his vile action shook.
The guy’s guilty as charged,
His member enlarged!
She’s human, she just had to look.
Drinking cocoa and petting the cat,
Hearing Bach and crocheting a hat,
When it’s rainy and chill
And the boss thinks you’re ill —
What a great guilty pleasure is that!
At wine fests you dare never rest.
I view them as more like a test.
Sampling crackers and cheese
And wines aimed to please,
I’m focused on finding the best.
I’ll never forget my sudden arrest
Because my wife did attest
That first I groped her
And then I roped her
Never mentioning that it was her bequest
Here’s what my new kitten calls play
In the course of one average day:
Ate the leaves off a fern
And tipped over an urn,
Stepping into a pie on the way;
Then demolished a model I’d built
And made sure that my coffee got spilt,
Knocked my phone to the floor
And threw up near the door…
No, cats don’t know the meaning of guilt.
Their overnight fling ran its course;
How it ended, she wouldn’t endorse.
Awoken alone
By a text on her phone:
“I’m guilty of boner’s remorse.”
The first to kneel down was a test
And the media dubbed him a pest.
Now the lines on the field
Are an unspoken shield
Against bigotry, hatred, unrest.
As a prez, Donald isn’t the best,
weekly golf trips put us to the test,
but he works hard colluding
and tweeting and brooding –
one thing he deserves is arrest!
The news anchor was quite distressed –
she wanted to stand out from the rest.
She went under the knife;
now she’s larger than life –
with the news she now keeps us abreast!
A re-write:
The anchorwoman’s a little distressed –
she wants to stand out from the rest.
She’ll go under the knife
to be larger than life –
with the news she will keep us abreast!
The humor part of limericks is eluding me on this go round.
Stereotypes have plagued us with each new wave of immigrants. One I remember from my childhood is the “Lazy Mexican.” In Small Town, USA I had no proof to the contrary. It’s not that I believed the stereotype, but there was no reason to disbelieve either.
The Mexican taking a rest
A sombrero and chin to his chest
El hermano is lazy.
It’s untrue, just plain crazy;
At physical labor, he’s best.
That is grossly understating the contribution Mexican-Americans (documented and undocumented) make to this country.
What’s in a Name?
If you’re searching for coffee with zest,
Death Wish is the brand that’s the best,
But beware the recall
That began in the Fall
Or it causes your final rest!
Another tweak:
The anchor’s a little distressed –
she wants to stand out from the rest.
She’ll go under the knife
to be larger than life –
with the news she will keep us abreast!
The concrete that the new dam was built
With, was cheapened by gravel and silt —
But what caused most dismay
On the day it gave way
Was the contractor’s absence of guilt:
“I don’t know why the papers protest,
When my mentors were really the best —
From Orange-Haired Belly
To slick Martin Shkreli;
“I guess I’m no worse than the rest.”
To the wife I tried to suggest
‘A change is as good as a rest’
A threesome would be
A nice novelty
Such a shame she wasn’t impressed
‘I’m placing you under arrest’
She said as she slowly undressed
This groom to be
Was in ecstasy
As my cock she deftly caressed
The health-care attackers won’t rest
‘Cuz money is what they know best–
With his donors on pause
Mitch will uphold the cause
Of wrecking what patients have blessed.
I thought I would finally get some rest
So I packed my bags and moved out west
Suddenly, by the sea
I had a house “of debris”
During the annual Gourmet Chocolate Fest
He’d done more lousy things than he’d ought;
And he’d laughed, and had never been caught.
But one sad look from Mum
Crushed his soul, left him dumb.
There are worse kinds of guilt than he thought.
Here is a marital test
Answer right and then you can rest
Praise her cooked squirrel
Hey! give it a whirl
Her pleasure will be will be gratefully expressed
Years ago in a town way out West
A Sheriff with a star on his vest
Saw thiefs run from a bank
But, their dreams of wealth sank
When he said “boys you’re under arrest.
All alone in the castle he built,
He fell on his sword to the hilt.
Tell the world that Kind Midas
Has finally died as
He lived — overcome by his gilt.
Oh, Macbeth! Don’t you feel any guilt
At the ocean of blood you have spilt?
Said Macbeth, “I do not.
For you see, I’m a Scot,
And in Scotland it’s kill or be kilt.”
Mr. Berle, may I please call you Milt?
As I’m known for my boldness, not guilt
I am one of the minors
(A child of moonshiners)
Who heard the one-liners you spilt.
And that’s why my big mouth likes to jest
I’ve been learning from one of the best
So my tongue will outlive
My dense brain (it’s a sieve!)
Though Mum told me, “Kid, GIVE it a rest!”
We all know Donald Trump’s a rednecker.
This fair country – he just tries to wreck ‘er!
A yuge wall he has built
In his mind without guilt
But his dreams will all wilt like his pecker!
One day soon, you will find he’s belied you
As he tries to build unrest inside you
That old cockroach, that pest,
Is unduly obsessed
With just doing his best to divide you!
With a wee tribal cloth for your loin,
All the hate groups he wants you to join.
It’s too late to protest
When both sides (all too stressed)
See the flipside (the rest) of the coin!
A comedian who’s genius at jest
Picked on jerks; never gave it a rest.
Oh, that good old George Carlin
Poked fun like a marlin
The comedy darlin’, the best!
Hugh Hefner is lying at rest;
His legacy I can attest.
A lascivious smile
Embodied the style
Where pleasure, when guilty, is best.
She had pics of the couple, undressed
Which her hubby had tried hard to wrest
His attempts were quite sloppy
As she had a copy
The courts liked her soppy tale best!
He just wasn’t passing the test
Though his passions were reaching a crest
And when she complained
His face looked so pained
That she said it was only in jest.
Edit previous limerick.
He just wasn’t passing the test
Though his passions were reaching a crest
And when she complained
His face looked most pained
Causing a fatal arrest.
In response to Dave Johnson:
Well, they tried to embalm him, but still
A body part had its own will.
Now, if you have to ask it,
They just couldn’t mask it,
Nor close that damn casket, until…
A solution they sought for a while
And they first tried a saw, then a file
Then some acid, a drill
But a bomb fit the bill
After all that, he still wore a smile!
Back to Suzanne:
His secret – well, not very much,
Involved a prescription and such.
That little blue pill
Would allow him to still
Make a stand in The Great Bunny Hutch.
Re: my posting above:
My choice of words wasn’t the best;
A failure of Madeleine’s test.
I’m trying to fix
What was lost in the mix;
Plead guilty and all of the rest.
To Dave:
Don’t you worry, Dave, don’t be too stressed
You have made up for that which you messed.
I believe you’re excused
‘Cause the “guilt” theme, you fused
In the line where you used the word, “rest.”
one day a large wrestler did wrest
his opponent’s arm from his chest
what’s this? he cried
as he threw it aside
how now will I know if I’m best?
alas now I feel so much guilt
for all of the blood I have spilt
I must make amends
to all of the friends
I’ve hurt just for glitter and gilt
I’ve dismembered too many foes
In my job that’s just how it goes
Like a patchwork quilt
All covered in silt
Mud and blood right up to my nose
How I cry over milk that is spilt!
‘Cause I just cannot handle the guilt
So I got me a cat
To lick up what goes splat
Brings my confidence back, all rebuilt!
His skills were considered the best,
To that many gals would attest.
Despite the temptation,
‘Twas no penetration.
You’ll have to imagine the rest.
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 Guilt-Themed Limerick Winner, and to the Honorable Mention winners: Limerick-Off Award 282.
But you can still have lots of limerick fun because a new Limerick-Off has just begun: Limerick-Off Ahead.