Limerick-Off Monday – Rhyme Word: DO or DUE or DEW or ADO at the end of any one line (Submission Deadline: March 13, 2021)
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 DO or DUE or DEW or ADO 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 BUGS, using any rhyme word. And of course I’ll present an extra award — one for the best BUGS-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 14, 2021, 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 13, 2021 at 4:00 p.m. (Eastern Time.)
Here’s my DO or DUE or DEW or ADO-rhyme limerick:
On the verge of proclaiming, “I do,”
The bride nearly fell off her shoe.
“It’s a message from God.
Don’t marry this clod!”
Yelled her mom. “God likes Stu better too!”
And here’s my BUGS-themed limerick:
“This software is buggy as hell.
How dare you maintain it works well!
I’m bugged, so don’t shrug;
I’m pulling the plug
In a week, if the code doesn’t jell.”
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
It may seem like such easy money
To draw a cartoon that is funny
But though you may swear
And tear out your hare
You’ll never come close to Bugs bunny
All my bills are due.
I’m starting to feel really blue
I must write it down.
My bank is in another town.
I need to phone Lue
You’re bored and don’t know what to do?
You say that your love life is through?
Well, that’s no excuse
For your self abuse.
Oh well, c’est chacun a son gout.
I was shocked as I worked on my taxes.
What I owe does not wane, it just waxes,
But my sweetie came through
And I’ll give him his due!
With his cash I can pay to the maxus.
I had no idea what to do
when my cat threw up in my shoe
In a state of despair
I bought a new pair
Now my cat ate my new Jimmy Choos.
My chic neighbors next door had fine rugs.
They were deathly afraid that my bugs
Might well skitter through doors
And would eat on their floors,
‘Til their rugs would soon turn into shrugs.
There is many a wedding, it’s true,
That has vows that conclude with “I do.”
And for those who attend,
You will find, near the end,
There are some who respond with “eye dew.”
Dear Pfizer, I love your vaccine
It stops that bug Covid Nineteen
I sing this refrain
“Bei mir bist du sheyn”
Like Patty, LaVerne and Maxene
Nikki Haley says credit is due
To Trump and all of his crew,
For producing vaccine,
For Covid-19,
Which we know they did not really do.
(The following four posts were all written for a Limerick-Off many, many years ago – so long ago that I haven’t the faintest recollection whether any of them won. Oh, well, perhaps Mad will have forgotten them as well …)
******
From Mad:
LOL! (My handy internal search engine will reveal all. :) )
We got drenched by the cold morning dew
While attempting an open-air screw.
My girl, giving head,
Had to sneeze, so instead
All she gave me that day was “a chew”!
The next morning, we set out to do
It again, but the weather, on cue,
Started snowing – we froze,
And her dear little nose
Was the only appendage she blew.
The third day – I felt it her due –
I heated some nourishing stew.
When she’d finished, I tried
For dessert, but she cried
“I’m too full now to swallow more goo!”
So now we have learned what to do:
Stay home where it’s warm, and dry too.
Indoors, life is grand
With a bird in the hand,
But a bird in the bush gives you ’flu.
A woman cried “What shall I do?
I’m pregnant, but don’t know by who.
On vacation in Mali,
I had sex with Charlie,
But later that day, Tim bucked too.”
(Moses complains of back problems):
“Stop telling us what we should do!
Commandments? OK, one or two,
But on marble, all ten?
Can’t You just use a pen
On something that’s light, like bamboo?”
A fellow said “What should I do?
I can’t get my girl to come through.”
He consulted an owl;
“What you need”, said the fowl,
“Is to charm her – to wit, to woo.”
Mr. Allgar, about this ado:
I did NOT give that woman a screw.
Not one “buck” did I show her.
I don’t even know her!
It’s slander. A falsehood. Untrue!
“Mrs. Johnson, your baby is due
Next Thursday, your wish will come true”
“Oh No! that’s the night
We’ll be watching the fight!
Can you change it to Friday at two?”
My apartment was ransacked by thugs.
I suppose they were looking for drugs.
They grabbed my computer
And found my six-shooter,
Then dropped all, shrieking “Look. damn bedbugs!”
Some guys are plain vulgar and crass
And act like a snake in the grass.
They might try to hug you,
That surely would bug you.
A bugger’s a pain in the ass.
Serve your termites some treats that are good.
If they’re tasty, then all of them should
Be so happy they’re yummy
Want more in their tummy.
(It’s a scheme known as “better than wood”.)
An ineffective way to kill bugs.
I know that you have a strong will
To kill bugs, but it’s not your best skill.
What the hell is this quirk?
That surely won’t work.
When you whisper, “Be quiet. Stand still”
Mad: one limerick up: today at 3:13 PM , (termite limerick)
line 4 reads. “And want more in their tummy”
Could you please delete “And”…..so it reads, Want more in their tummy
Thank You,
Lisi
********
Done.
I tried writing a verse with “ado”
Couldn’t do it, (that sure made me blue)
I soon figured out
What the snag was about.
What the hell does it mean? Got no clue.
We’ve had a long friendship. we two.
In good, and in bad years pulled through.
But times are a-changing
Our needs now far-ranging,
Let’s say our adieu sans ado.
A baby’s a dream that comes true.
Can’t believe my sweet girl’s almost two!
But her dad’s of no use
Always finds an excuse
To not change her when smelling ado.
If you want to use something that’s new
Try our super thick quick-drying glue
But take care and beware,
If applied to your hair
You surely will rue your new do
A God-fearing gent from Nantucket,
Set sail o’er the foam in a bucket,
But, in less than a week,
The craft sprung a leak,
And, as it sunk down, he said: “Bug it!”
“Little Tiny Hammers”
Those carpenter ants are just great!
They come here each day about eight.
They’re building my deck,
But Blimey! Oh Heck!
They charge a huge hourly rate!
An entry into both categories:
Each time that I feel down and blue
I munch on an insect or two
Though humans like hugs
I’ll just stick to bugs
What else is a shrew supposed to do?
I have an illustration but your site won’t let me download it. :-(
Shakespeare penned stuff about “Much Ado”,
Shipwrecks and shy such and such a Jew,
Bloody battles, romance,
Bitchy witches and France,
Contriving words new, give him such a due!
Line 5: (Amendment)
Contriving words too, give him such a due!
When Einstein had nothing to do,
More intellect he would pursue.
He would sit in his home.
Read a scholarly tome.
His fav’rite was “Winnie The Pooh”
More deadly than crocs and than gators,
Are Beamers, hot rod operators,
The white ones are worst,
For the buggers come first,
And they never use no trafficators!
p.s. We call ‘em indicators.
And we don’t generally use no double negatives neither.
B.T.W. Beamers = nickname for B.M.W. Cars (from Germany)
Does one put a “k” in “traffic(k)actors”?
I dunno how to spel it.
Just what consitoots “Traffickator”?
It guess it could be when a gator,
Eats bugs on main route,
Then, cops are called out,
To search and blow up and deflate her!
Apologies for typo:
Line 2: I guess (not “It guess”)
🥵
I accused him of being real coarse,
But now I have painful remorse.
Cuz I thought I would die
When I spotted a fly
OH WHY! did we get a divorce??
Those who still think Trump won,
Agree with the tales he’s spun,
And likely are due
For an I.Q. review,
When they’re not staring into the sun.
I’d begun to have sex in the grass
With the prettiest girl in my class,
When “Oh God!” cried the chick,
“What a terrible prick!”
… She’d been bitten by ants in the ass.
The CPAC cries, “No more Ado!
Just give the gold calf-man his due!
Enough of his cronies
and wannabe phonies!
We just want to hear our God moo!”
Our pup loves to sniff doggy-doo,
(And at times, tries to roll in it too!),
Especially that
Which our neighbour’s dog shat –
Not surprisingly, she’s a Shih-Tzu.
Tonight is for me and for you.
I’ve bought candles in lavender blue.
We’ll have caviar, steak,
Then red velvet cake.
And to wash it all down: mountain dew.
We have bugs, but somehow we get by.
But this morning, I sure had to cry.
I freaked out and shook,
When I read in a book
That roaches can actually fly.
(true)
“Love Poem”
I’ve written a poem for you:
“My darling, I’ll always be true.
You’re simply divine,
Oh, will you be mine?
You sweat smells just like mountain dew.”
When a rooster, grown old, tries to do
What he did when he had his debut …
Off he struts with a maid
In the hope he’ll get laid.
All he proves is, his thinking’s askew.
I was sad when I worked on my bills,
My tight budget left nothing for frills.
But my dealer came through
And I’ll give him his due,
‘Cause he fronted me cash – for my pills!
The G.O.P.’s over, it’s true;
Evolved into something that’s new.
With nothing the same,
It should have a new name:
ReTrumplickin’ Party will do.
The prof talks with too much ado
Her drama queen ‘training’ shines through.
She mocks and harangues,
Creates hunger pangs;
What else is a student to do?
You wait 17 years to come back?
I would just love to give you a smack!
You cicada’s are liars,
With leery desires.
And no! I won’t “cut you some slack”
You wait 17 years to come back?
I would just love to give you a smack!
You cicada’s are liars,
With leery desires.
And no! I won’t “cut you some slack”
How you’re greeted will give you the clue.
You’re in Britain. It’s, “How do you do?”
Down in Oz, it’s, “Goo’ day!”
And in Pari so gay,
It’s, “Bonjour,” and then, “Merci beaucoup.”
In some states they say, “Howdy!” (It’s true.)
In some others, “Hey ya’ll,” or, “Hey you.”
“How’s it hangin’?” is hip,
Though “Whassup?” has more zip,
And for Cajuns, “Bonjour,” and “Adieu.”
When evenings are humid and warm,
Mosquitos invade – true to form.
Attacking their prey
As we swat them away;
While mega-bites grow by the swarm.
This music site’s loaded with bugs;
Developers might be on drugs.
An example of this
For your listening bliss:
“Sukiyaki” performed by The Fugs.
a quiz! Can you guess?
His horns make me sick through and through.
His hooves need special-made shoe.
But Pierre Gripari
Never had to say, “sorry”
So I’m giving the devil his due.
The Volkswagen, nicknamed “The Bug”,
Once crawled on our streets. We said “Ugh!”.
I traded mine in
For its kith and kin.
My brand new Bugatti, I hug.
# 58
Our poor Madeleine, what can she do?
She is swamped with these limericks, all new.
In only two days!
Like Heinz in some ways,
Fifty-seven varieties of goo.
I haven’t the slightest clue,
How I’ll pay all my bills due,
I’m in a real stew,
Unless something new
Turns up – or I’ll have to live like the lady in a shoe!
“In the war, Daddy, what did you do?”
Daddy coughs. “I was fighting for you.”
“Did you win?” “I’m not sure.
As I’ve told you before,
Mummy asked for a truce. P’rhaps we drew.”
I thought, “Catering school,” as you do,
“Where they’ll teach me to roast and to stew.
Gordon Ramsey’s,” I thought,
“Is the place to be taught,
And once trained, I can claim, ‘Gordon Blue’.”
Overheard.
“There are some things in life you don’t do!”
“Such as?” “Letting your emails accrue.”
“Yes. Bad form.” “Yes! It’s rude –
As is spraying your food.
And I wouldn’t do either. Would you?”
For those occasional days when you’re not in the mood.
Home invasion is not at all nice.
Best avoid it, whatever the price.
Here is what you should do:
When a friend calls, say, “Shoo!
I feel lousy.” (Infested with lice.)
When Satan came sauntering through
The salon door, the hairdresser knew
She could NOT blow him off.
So she fashioned his coif,
Thereby giving the devil his ‘do.
Jane requested a drink—Mountain Dew.”
Joe the Bartender, then, right on cue,
Gladly climbed on aboard,
Pulled his pants down and scored.
(Now insisting he’d heard “mount and screw.”)
Don’t assume, though my buttocks are jerking,
That I’m out of control and just twerking
Or have Saint Vitus dance.
No, it’s ants in my pants–
And I’m irked by the way they are lurking!
“Fruit Flies”
I decided to make apple pie.
Found the fruit, although one had a fly.
It said, “Don’t be afraid.
Just go get me weighed,
Cause tomorrow’s the day that I die”
Noah boarded the beasts two-by-two —
‘Twas a task the Big Boss bade him do.
He faced it, unblinking,
But couldn’t help thinking,
“The world is becoming a zoo.”
Last night, when I went up the stairs,
Saw a ladybug covered with squares.
She said, “These mutations
Go back generations.
I received them from one of my heirs.”
I have numerous genuine fears,
Cause my son always brings me to tears.
He came home with a “do”
I was shocked through and through.
He had sideburns behind both his ears.
A diner, so bugged by the guy,
Who waited his table yelled, “Fie!
You have managed to pour
On my lap soup du jour,
And now there’s a soup in my fly!”
“Let’s all go to “Fare” , Sweetie Boo”
(She’s got 20 kids! what shall I do?)
“Hmm, I’ll whisper to Claire
(She’s the owner of “Fare”)
To announce, “Johnson, party of two”.
(Bugs)
I love sterling, and oh! it’s my wish
To display a nice filigree dish.
Well, I wasn’t enthused
When John got confused,
And gave me a wet silverfish.
Bitten by the bugs.
When disporting alfresco, beware!
Gnats and midges may nest in your hair.
This, in turn, makes you itch –
And that itch is a bitch.
It’s a high price to pay for fresh air.
From the bugs lab – great news that I’ve scooped,
From two DNA strands that they’ve looped,
They’ve developed a virus
Which really will tire us
And make us feel worn out and pooped.
An opera singer from Basingstoke,
Of bad luck, once had an amazing stroke.
At her wedding in Kew
She warbled, “I DO.”
And all of the church’s stained glazing broke.
After sealing my parcel with glue,
There was only one thing left to do,
I wrote, on the end,
PHOTOGRAPHS. DO NOT BEND.
But the postman wrote, “OH YES THEY DO.”
Said the doctor, “I thought you had flu;
But I’ve run tests like good doctors do.
Trypanosomiasis
Is what your complaint is –
Will you wake up – I’m speaking to you!”
St. Norbert (he existed – it’s true!)
Was a breeder of sloths at the zoo.
If one is not queasy
It’s really quite easy –
They like to fuck slow: and they do.
(With a tip of the hat to the Young Man of Natal and his Hottentot gal.)
With a man I know just what to do;
And a girl I know just how to screw.
But that’s where it ends;
I’ve no trans-gender friends;
I’m a bi-sexual just built for two.
In Memoriam
I’m sorry to hear that you’re dead.
You couldn’t just linger instead?
I’m now asking you,
Why all this ado?
It must have been something I said.
You’ve swept them right under your rugs
They’ve given you love bites, not hugs
They’ve crawled now instead
Right into your bed
Those lovable, cute little bugs
To give Algernon Twinkling his due,
He had never intended to sue:
But the thought of the splash
He could make with the cash
Caused integrity’s downfall. Would you?
Cuz you are my special sweet pea,
Whatever you want, I’ll agree.
You’re forever my bride.
Go ahead and decide
The mall today, dear, or a flea?
I am pleased — without further ado —
To present this fine poem to YOU!
It scans and it rhymes,
(Nearly). (Some of the time).
And what’s nice? It’s concise. See, I’m through.
This is Costco, now what do we do?
Oh yeah! that nice clerk said, “aisle two”
We need one jar of honey.
We’ve got enough money.
But WHAT?? twenty jars of that goo?
Mike Pence is a guy who should know
How fate can deliver a blow.
His moment came late;
At the V.P. debate,
That fly was the star of the show.
We just don’t have sex anymore.
My husband now says I’m a bore.
So what can I do?
Gee, I guess we are through.
Since his fav’rite position’s next door.
“Dear Abby, don’t know what to do.
I’m “John”, and just turned 22.
But the truth must be told.
I like broads who are old”
“Call Lisi, she’s age 92”
There’s a spa just for “seniors” who knew?
When your breasts hang down low, they will do
Something very sublime
At the VERY SAME TIME
Called, “Mammogram/Pedicure Too”
Mother Nature is not all that new
Yet she’s state-of-the-art in my view
If God took all her powers
So she couldn’t make showers
I’m sure that she still could ‘make dew’ !
Mad: at 12:03 PM today, I wrote a limerick, in which the last line reads
“The mall today dear, or the flea?”
Could you please change “the” to “a”, so it reads
The mall today, dear, or a flea?
Thank You, Lisi
*****
Done.
My dear neighbor is really quite fun.
Yes she flits ev’rywhere on the run.
When lockdown is through,
I just know what she’ll do;
She’ll continue to act ninety one!
“Something That He Never Knew”
I’ve seen many lines, some askew
On the streets in your town, through and through.
I assume they imply
That we all must comply
With things that we all should not do.
oops!
I’ve seen many lines, some askew
On the signs in your town through and through.
I assume they imply
That we all must comply
With stuff that we all should not do.
“To Do List”
“The kids are at camp, Whoop-De-Do!
Tonight, I’ll make hot love to you”.
“No need to persist
Cuz here’s today’s list.
And it doesn’t say, “Monday we screw”.
My mom told me not to ignore
That “less very often is more”.
“If lim’ricks you do,
Please do just a few.
Too many of those will just bore.”
A ruckus at the noisy neighbour’s.
“You may call it a hullabaloo,
Or, quite rightly, a proper to-do:
But whatever it’s called,
We should all be appalled
When we’re told to our faces, “Go screw!”
“Dearest friends, may I have your attention.
Welcome all to our comics’ convention!
Some apologies due,
From Mel Brooks and his crew,
And from others too humorous to mention.”
“If it’s nothing, what’s all the ado?
I don’t know. Why d’you think I asked you?
Since we’re asked to invest
He should keep us abreast.
If he doesn’t come clean, can we sue?”
Mad, please add the an ‘s’ to the beginning of the last word in the limerick above, please. To make sue. Thank you. Tony
*******
Done.
P G Tips used chimpanzees in its advertising fron the mid-nineteen fifties on and was/is the most popular tea in the UK.
To give credit where credit is due,
P G Tips make a very fine brew.
But the ultimate tea
Isn’t made by P G,
But by chimps who take tea at the zoo.
“Hey mosquito! let’s have a nice chat.
Don’t be shy, cuz I know where you’re at.
You’ve sucked up my blood.
But I’ll be your best “bud”
If you guzzle up some of my fat.”
My ants asked for real good advice.
They sadly said, “Halloween’s nice.”
“But we’re so vey small,
Nothing fits us at all ”
(I suggested they dress up as rice).
“Hey mosquito! let’s have a nice chat.
Don’t be shy, cuz I know where you’re at.
You’ve sucked up my blood,
But I’ll be your best “bud”
If you guzzle up some of my fat”
A fellow has started to swell
After spending a night with his belle.
For the bedbugs were bad
And they munched all he had.
So it goes in a Trump-brand hotel.
“Hey mommy, I’m terribly blue.
Can you hear me? I’m talkin’ to you!
I surely can’t wait
For that real special date.
It’s so cramped in here! when are you due?”
“Sugar Daddy Boy” always comes through.
Our love is so heartfelt and true.
The day that he died,
I cried and I cried.
It was just when my rent check was due.
above limerick had the wrong tenses. They all should have been past tense.
just noticed. Here’s the right way:
“Sugar Daddy Boy” always came through.
Our love was so heartfelt and true.
The day the he died,
I cried and I cried.
It was just when my rent check was due.
While looking for something to do,
He dialed up a lady he knew.
Saying “Hey, I’m so bored”.
She said “Here’s your reward
For calling – now come bore me too.”
A library worker named Drew
Stole mystery books that were new
Though he pilfered for years
His arrest garnered cheers
Fo his booking was long overdue.
I’m puzzled what everyone sees
In purchasing items like these.
They’re blankets and such
Which I’d rather not touch
That come from a market of fleas.
The spiders we see are all hairy.
And so, my friend, you must be wary!
If you see one that’s hissing,
Then, poof! it is missing.
You’ll know the true meaning of scary.
“Have you ever tried taming a shrew?”
“Oh, is that what we’re trying to do?”
“While she’s wild, we’ve no chance.
She will lead us a dance.”
“Well, I’m not going first. After you.”
To-do List?
Keep the mob on the job; stoke the coup;
Find more suckers and losers to screw;
Keep stirring up trouble;
Turn Dems into rubble…
When you’re Trump, there is so much to do.
“Yes, at once, Mister Hesitant, sir!”
“No change there, then. Just do, no demur.”
“He‘s still thinking, the louse,
That he’s up at the House.”
Let’s be thankful he’s not and defer.”
The groom wasn’t really that clever.
(Real puzzled about this endeavor).
The bride said, “I do”.
The groom said it too.
Then mentioned, “It won’t be forever”.
Let’s go to “Unusual Zoo”
It’s really a fun thing to do.
The squirrels do not squeak.
The parrots can’t speak.
And the cows cannot udder a moo.
Announcing the show right on cue,
He wanted to say something new.
A phrase that was sure
To amaze and endure:
“And now, without further ado…”
Those dear people drank coffee from mugs
That were often infested by slugs.
Tell me, what would you do
If you looked down in rue,
And your mug was all filled with dead bugs?
We write lots of lim’ricks, that’s true,
But quality’s not our purview.
Our words loosely stroll
With little control.
Thus, quantity will have to do
Just Common Sense
You need to get rid of your spout.
After that, you just won’t need to pout.
Then Miss Itsy Bitsy
Who thinks she’s real glitzy,
Can’t get up, can’t go in, or get out.
Trump loves me, and I love him too.
He told me his feelings are true.
He writes me love letters.
Now I’m one of them debtors.
Cuz each one is stamped, “postage due”
Apology?
Gadzooks, alas and forsooth!
‘Tis sharp like a serpent’s false tooth.
Its bite, overdue,
Is harmless, that’s true,
And never can injure my couth.*
* “couth” is a perfectly good word. Why is it underlined in red?
On the label, it said, ‘Mountain Dew’,
Which, in hindsight, may not have been true.
When my eyesight returns,
And I’m over the burns,
I shall drop them a line – maybe two.
In politics, so many are lost but not found
When unfounded claims, lies, and clear bias abound
To calm this storm, rife with ado
And unite ALL, both red and blue
Is agreement that LIMERICKS are the best common ground!
News item: Former Trump State Dept. staffer Federico Klein, arrested for taking part in the Jan. 6 Capitol riot, has complained about cockroaches in his jail cell.
Insurrectionist Klein loudly cursed:
“Damn these roaches! They’re simply the worst!
Move me out of here! Ick!”
But the roaches were quick:
They petitioned to move him out first.
A modified “Unusual Zoo”
Let’s go to “Unusual Zoo”
It’s really a fun thing to do.
The squirrels don’t squeak.
The parrots won’t speak.
And the cows will not udder a moo.
Oh, when will this virus be through?
I say to myself, “Don’t be blue”
I breathe out, I breathe in.
And that’s a “win-win”
Cuz at least it is something to do.
Bugs and Due (double)
As a child, ev’ry bug made me blue.
When I saw one, I always said, “Shoo!”
After years, took some bees
On a cruise to Belize.
My diligence surely was due.
I’ve practiced a year and a day;
There’s nothing my fingers can’t play.
But oh what shall I do,
There’s a concert that’s due,
And my notes have all floated away.
A machine to kill insects he lugs
To his yard. It is broken; he shrugs.
His arthropod zapper
Is not a good trapper
Of mosquitoes. It still has some bugs.
A new kind of pet store: “The Musical Zoo”
Bought our rooster from “Musical Zoo”
They sell talented cockerels too.
Ev’ry morning we hear,
(It’s so sweet to the ear)
“Cock-a-doo-da-lee-doo-da-lee-doo.”
Better
We went to the “Musical Zoo”
We walked all around, through and through.
The cows rock and roll.
And the roosters all troll:
“Cock-a-doo-da-lee-doo-da-lee doo”
Your phone, you believe, has been bugged.
Not worried and you’ve merely shrugged?
No problem, you’re fine.
The phone’s a land line.
You simply just leave it unplugged.
Callipygous maid, Melody Pugh,
Was not brazen, to give her her due.
She wore clothes to disguise
That delight to male eyes.
So successfully, nobody knew.
When the misandrist, Melanie Pugh,
Spoke in public, promoting her view,
She said, “Men are a plague—”
Which I thought a bit vague,
“And extinction is long over-due.”
There are some things you don’t, some you do,
And you ought to know which of the two
Should apply, when and where,
So you’ll know when to dare
And then when to turn tail and, “Adieu!”
“if it’s nothing, what’s all the ado?
I don’t know. Why d’you think I asked you?
Since we’re asked to invest,
He should keep us abreast.
If he doesn’t come clean, can we sue?”
The pogontrophist, Amorous Proud,
Was afraid he’d get lost in the crowd.
To stand out from the throng,
He grew whiskers so long,
Women thought he was too well endowed.
The pogonophobe, Strawberry Moon,
Seeing beards would immediately swoon.
Her psychiatrist said,
“The girl ought to be wed –
Introduce her to Glabrous Muldoon.”
Liverpool Limerick (their very first single)
He said that he wants someone new.
(Like me), and he’ll always be true.
He knew begging was wrong,
Yet he sang me this song:
“So Plee-e-e-eze Love Me Do”.
Hello Mad,
I just noticed some gremlins appeared on my March 6th, 7:38pm limerick.
there’s no is sitting on top for no reason. Please delete if you can. Thanks.
**********
Done.
Callipygous miss, Melody Pugh,
Was not brazen, to give her her due.
She took steps to conceal
Her aesthetic appeal:
So successfully, nobody knew.
Addled alchemist, Archibald Swain,
Took to messin’ with nature again.
He perfected a brew
And declaimed, “‘Mountain Dew’ –
Panacea, whatever the pain.”
Young pogonophile, Engelbert Stride,
Thought his whiskers might look better dyed.
He applied every hue –
“It’s the right thing to do.” –
And had just got to blue, when he died.
Where’d he get that incredible ‘do
With the hair standing up straight and true?
There’s a sign on display
At the stylist’s today:
“Try electrical current! It’s YOU!”
In Memoriam II
My octogenarian friend,
You’ve come to an untimely end.
I miss you, I do
While hoping that you
Haven’t started a morbid new trend.
There’s a raunchy giraffe at the zoo
Who shouts (as giraffes seldom do):
“If you think my neck’s long
Just look at my schlong!”
Then pisses to show that it’s true.
An ambulatory young roach
Said, to his friend’s stern reproach,
“Well, sure I can fly
But you know that I
Can’t stand the people in coach.”
A busy young fruit fly named Rudy
Was feeling frustrated and moody
“I walk on your food,”
He said, in his brood,
“And lose my day’s coating of doodie!”
A fly where you’d hardly expect him
Flew on Mike Pence to inspect him.
His fly friends asked why
And he said in reply,
“It smelled just like Donald Trump’s rectum!”
Young pogonophile, Engelbert Stride,
Allowed robins to nest in his pride.
Robins make much ado,
So young Stride had to, “Shoo!”
But the guilt took its toll and he cried.
Eager businessman, Emerson Drew,
Wracked his brains to create something new:
But contrive as he might –
And he worked day and night –
A new debt was the best he could do.
“Limerick, limerick, limerick”
That was trimeter purely dactylic.
As lim’ricks you do
Break a rule, maybe two.
Ban the Meter! That would be idyllic.
An entomological way
Of running a prank they can play:
In essence, it plants
A few vials full of ants;
For bugging their colleagues all day.
Reggie Mangold was good, and he knew:
And as such, he demanded his due.
He got paid on the dot
Without quibble. If not,
He got dressed in a huff and withdrew.
It’s time that we made Meghan Markle
Adopt a new pose that is darkle.
It we set her to weed
It might fulfill her need
To get rid of all bugs with a sarcle.
Harry’s action is now really due.
He must reveal what he says is true.
For so long we’ve waited
With breath that is bated
To see Meghan’s own Waterloo.
Mad, please delete the one above. I felt that, as I’m claiming a twofer, I needed to make a better effort – which I hope this is.
Bugs are many, and various, too,
Some so small that they’ll drown in the dew.
But regardless of size,
With their fangs and their eyes,
All arachnids make bodies unglue.
*******
Done.
The palace, while lacking in bugs,
Is certainly no place for hugs.
Their process to sweep
All the customs they keep
Requires a truckload of rugs.
Got a bite from a tick, what a shock!
“Can’t see you this week”, said the “doc”
And boy! did I curse!
And what makes it much worse
All the clocks in my house just go “tock”
makes more sense. Every 17 years, they’re back! (Well, at least here in Chicago they do and they’re disgusting)
You wait 17 years to come back?
Well, this time I won’t “cut you slack”
You cicada’s are liars
With leery desires.
Get ready! You’re gettin’ a smack!
Hearing buzz at the fun’ral for “Reb,”
A high flyer (well known in Zagreb),
Made house-fly Croations
In search of vacations,
Quite leery of searching the web.
The “Former Guy” isn’t quite through…
“So here’s what I want you to do:
Send donations to ME
Not that RINO.P.
From now on, it’s just ME and YOU!!”
There are bugs that will bite in the night
And some others that sting you on sight:
But the bugs to beware
Are the ones that just stare
And convince you, “You move, and I might.”
There once was a literate fly
Who stepped on some toes. My, oh my.
He landed on David
Who could not evade it
And brought out a huge hue and cry.
What’s this bug doing, snug in my rug?
What’s its thinking? I’m some kind of mug?
Spider, cockroach and fleas,
Bugs just do as they please.
If I squish, does it make me a thug?
There are phasmids, a stick-insect sort,
Which pretend, to avoid getting caught.
They are ghosts in the trees,
Who disguise for a wheeze,
And defy you to spot them for sport.
Bitten by the …
“It’s no good, he’s been bitten. That’s it.
You’re a widow. It’s hard to admit:
But accept it you must,
You won’t see him for dust.
He’s all clubs, greens and putting. Submit!”
“You should take on a lover, or two.
That at least gives you something to do.
If that’s not to your taste –
And I think it’s a waste –
You could purchase a set and play, too.”
“It’s no good, he’s been bitten. That’s it.
You’re a widow. It’s hard to admit:
But accept it you must,
You won’t see him for dust.
He’s all clubs, greens and putting. Submit!”
“You should take on a lover, or two.
That at least gives you something to do.
If that’s not to your taste –
And I think it’s a waste –
You might purchase a set and play, too.”
“But I warn you, the game is a curse.
You’ll espouse mashie niblicks, or worse.
Hearing, “Tea?” you’ll shout, “Fore!”
Get obsessed about score,
And say stymied a lot. It’s perverse.”
Politically Incorrect
A wasp can get nasty and smug.
If it stings you, it’s surely a thug.
But don’t call it “that name”.
It’ll cause you much shame.
Just kill it, and call it a “bug”.
My mentor expounds with ado;
She claims that my rhymes are askew,
But thoughts come a-biting
And I keep on writing
Those perfect new lim’ricks for you!
“Please be more original”
Who was it who named a fly “fly”?
It’s the VERY SAME WORD! Was he high?
Hey! I’ll ask my friend Judd
He’s my really smart bud.
To spy on this guy, (he’s a spy).
Mad: 12:01 one today I wrote my “politically incorrect” limerick about wasps.
Just realized that wasps don’t bite; they sting.
Could you please change line 2 from “If it bites you, it’s surely a thug”
to If it stings you, it’s surely a thug.
Thank You,
Lisi
*********
Done.
“I’ll tell you who bugs me the most.”
She said to the afternoon host.
“It’s people you ask
About wearing a mask
Who claim that their ‘freedom’ is toast.
But now that the vaccines are here,
Their purpose in life becomes clear.
They scheme and design
To be there first in line;
I hope they get shot in the rear.”
Oops!
Mad, in my post above, could you change the very first line to read:
“I’ll tell you who bugs me the most.”
Thanks, Dave
******
Done.
Hi Mad,
I, too request a correction for one of my posts.
My limerick dated 3/10 at 3:54 a.m.
Change the last two lines to read:
Who could not evade it
And brought out a huge hue and cry
Thanks,
**********
Done.
Rudy
“We’re pandas who live at the zoo.
We don’t have a whole lot to do
but lie in the sun
play around and have fun
and spend all day eating bamboo.”
Missy Shanks had a boyfriend named Due’,
Whose amours caused her parents to stew.
“He will lead her astray
And then we’ll have to pay.”
But in fact, it was Missy led. True.
Seems bonobos have got the idea.
They’re relaxed about sex, so I hear.
When the fancy to ‘woo’
Takes a hold, well, they do –
And with gusto, no guilt and no fear.
There is so little romance these days.
‘Making love’ is those, ‘old-fashioned ways’.
Nowadays we all screw –
No, I don’t! P’raps you do? –
Let us hope it’s no more than a phase.
What would happen to grooms who say, “Don’t!”?
Or to brides who refuse and say, “Won’t!”?
Would there be a to-do?
Would they still get to screw?
Or would life just go on, as it’s wont?
My suede SHOES are a beautiful blue
I walk HOME in when night shifts are through
But wet GRASS soaks each shoe
The suede’s ruined, boohoo!
Much ado I do, due to the dew.
Home from school, my young fifth-grader rants
Asked me, “What has six legs and eats ants?”
How I felt somewhat trapped
When his little gums flapped –
“Just three uncles”, and crapped in my pants!
The weatherman hasn’t a clue
How to forecast some weather that’s true.
A meteorologist –
Just a mythologist
Needs a proctologist too!
The worst CRITTER this planet has known
Whether baby or all fully grown
And which scares me to death
Worse than taking bad meth
I get shortness of breath when alone.
It’s a spider I’m talking about.
I just see one and then I break out.
The question then begs,
Why do hatchlings from eggs
Turm my legs into pegs? (ain’t no doubt!)
Ev’ry spider has venom for sure
They should save it for bugs they allure
They scare even my cat
When I see one, it’s “Splat!”
Or a blow torch; now THAT’S a good cure!
I walk a lot, that’s what I do.
Saw Peru, been to Kalamazoo,
Kathmandu, Timbuktu,
Waterloo, Tuvalu
Wore out fitbits and many a shoe.
The world’s deadliest bugs (Nature’s blunder)
Seem to congregate mostly Down Under.
You can paint a complaint
Or just die, maybe faint
Lacking tourists? It ain’t any wonder!
No offence to you Aussies out there
As you DO have great traits that are rare:
Nothing scares you; your zest
And your accent’s the best
I.am really impressed (yes, I swear!)
Aging wisecracker, Valentine Spool,
Is devoted to playing the fool:
And to him, ‘much ado’,
Means embarrassing you,
Which, at times, is extremely uncool.
Politician, Malodious Spink,
Was regarded by all as a fink.
But what did for this scum
Was the deal for his mum,
Whom he sold for two ‘dogs and a drink.
The dancers all stripped while they swayed.
The bugs sat and joyfully played
Stud poker and gin
But the fuzz then barged in.
And the roaches all screamed, “It’s a Raid!”
“Bug Club” (better)
The termites all stripped while they swayed.
The ants sat and joyfully played
Stud poker and gin.
But the fuzz then barged in.
And the roaches all screamed, “It’s a Raid!”
Hey Honey! come over and bring
Some music, we’ll buzz while we sing!
Bring the Bee tles, bee bop.
Then we’ll both do the “hop”
And please don’t forget to bring Sting.
Said a man to a witch that he “knew”:
“I’m so sorry I cheated on you.
Since your spell on my winky
Has rendered it dinky,
I rue that true voodoo you do!”
I stare into the barrel and scowl,
Like frustrated, bad-tempered owl.
The next deadline is due.
Inspiration? No clue.
Must be time now to throw in the towel?
I stare into the barrel and scowl,
Like a frustrated, bad-tempered owl.
The next deadline is due.
Inspiration? No clue.
Must be time now to throw in the towel?
Sorry! Getting very careless in my old age.
Poor Meghan didn’t know what to do,
Said Harry, I know—interview!
You must sound sincere,
Speak with one you revere,
To Oprah, you’ll always ring true!
Those Royals are doing their thing
A rumor, a scandal, a fling
But nothing they do
Can ever outdo
The tragedy of Mayerling
The limerick virus broke through
It’s beats us ’til we’re black and blue
The numbers are mounting
Two hundred and counting
Oh Madeleine, what’s there to do?
Please note:
My last submission was #200
Attention all Limerick-Off Stragglers: The current Limerick-Off ends tomorrow, Saturday, at 4 pm (Eastern time.)
The rioters made ‘Much Ado’,
Although not ‘About Nothing’, it’s true.
They were fighting a lie,
And were willing to die
For their anti-democracy coup.
Young Gregor awoke with a scream;
He’d had a most terrible dream
Where he’d turned to a roach …
He heard footsteps approach –
Crunch! It wasn’t a dream, it would seem.
Damned mosquitoes! It isn’t the pain
That is driving me slowly insane,
But that nerve-racking whine
As they zoom in to dine
Once again, and again, and again!
Time and tide wait for no one. The dread,
As, ‘the deadline approaches.’ (Mad said.)
Tim and Bri’ – Rudy, too –
Gasp their last, as they do.
At this hour aren’t they best off in bed?
I went to a very posh do
But (strictly between me and you),
To my utter dismay,
I got turned away.
They couldn’t find me in “Who’s Who”.
Trump’s boasting and lying on cue:
“Give credit where credit is due!
If it wasn’t for me,
There just wouldn’t be
Any vaccine for any of you!”
H G Wells, modern prophet, forecast,
That in time, bugs would conquer, at last.
That said bugs should deploy
Before Martians destroy,
Seems ungrateful and, frankly, ha’f assed.
A pillbug, aggrieved, won’t reveal it;
When insulted he tries not to feel it.
Called a “sow” or a “louse,”
He’ll be tempted to grouse,
But rolls up in a ball to conceal it.
If you’ve ever been bitten by fleas – which cat owner hasn’t? – this will make complete sense.
Sellotape is my weapon preferred
When my bloodlust for vengeance is stirred.
Sneak attack, while they suck –
They can’t spring once they’re stuck –
And their sentence is never deferred!
The Liberal view:
Surely, bugs should have rights, shouldn’t they?
Or, at least, we should hear what they say.
Just to brush them aside,
Or worse, bug genocide,
Would seem undemocratic today.
Exquisitely made, through and through,
A purchase that I’ll never rue,
For dishes sublime
With lemon or lime,
I use my new pot – yum, I do!
Now that COVID is practically through
And we’ve all had a jab — maybe two —
Can we take our guitars
And sit under the stars
As we sing (and pass round) Mountain Dew?
This old folkie’s not put off by bugs
Or by (mild) recreational drugs,
But I surely do long
To exchange — not just song,
But a thing that’s far better — real hugs!
There was Archy and Mehitabel
Their friendship was real and just swell
Archy got much reproach
Just because he’s a roach
But his stories still sell rather well
This rhyme may seem like a crock,
My Bugs eats carrot, leans on rock.
Not trying to be funny,
But my Bugs is a bunny,
Read this and say, “What’s up Doc?”
My phobia has plagued me for years
People say you must confront your fears
But try as I might
I have to take flight
Every time Incy Wincy appears
Dodos died, so it’s tragic but true
That there’s nobody left now who knew
Of the shape or the length
Or olfactory strength
Of the doo-doos a dodo would do.
I ask you, how insects learn
When they’ve got no parents to turn?
How do they know what to do
When they’re free from egg goo
What job and how much to earn?
I say, “I’m sorry”, when I’m not.
I say, “I don’t think”, which is rot.
“I don’t suppose”, when I do,
“You don’t say”, when I heard you…
I say things I don’t mean quite a lot.
I now spend most of my time
Mulling and thinking in rhyme.
You said “Most”, is that true,
What else do you do?
I exaggerate, is that a crime?
One thing that John liked to do,
And was sure that none else knew,
Was to dress up as a girl
And to dance and to whirl
Wearing his sister’s tutu.
Trump, last year…
There were things we were planning to do
About this new type of flu,
But we were distracted
And the planning protracted
By the impeachment started by you.
Trump was given his cue,
But he froze, “What do I do?”
Then in his longest ad lib
He proceeded to fib
He lied for an hour, if not two.
I would say, when I look at you,
That walking’s not something you do.
You look unfit and fat
And I’d guarantee that
You’d rest after one step not two.
Insects now known as a butterfly
Were originally known as a flutter-by
But the namer’s young daughter
Misheard over water
The name her father had muttered by.
You can push the blame to one side
But there’s one thing you cannot hide,
You were told to take heed,
But you said “There’s no need,
The bugs not coming!” You lied.
When indulging my urge to keep Kudu,
I should have let just one or two do,
But instead, (how absurd!)
I obtained a whole herd.
Now my garden’s knee-deep in their doo-doo!
Cruciverbalist, Eleanor Pugh,
Stared, cross-eyed, at this challenging clue.
Nine across, ‘To behave
As audaciously brave’:
And the answer, of course, ‘Derring do’.
Cruciverbalist, Eleanor Pugh,
Stared, cross-eyed, at this challenging clue.
Nine across, ‘To behave
As audaciously brave’:
And the answer, of course, ‘Derring do’.
Still with Eleanor, now at, ‘Sun’s crown?’.
Concentrating, ah yes, hence the frown.
What’s that noise? Constant drone –
Crossword puzzle is thrown …
And unwelcome intruder goes down.
The ‘bug’ that cures:
“Every bug isn’t nasty!” “Don’t say?”
“Some are actually helpful.” “No way?”
“Take the phage—” “Thanks, I’ll pass.”
“Pay attention, you arse!
It’s the phage kills the virus.” “Okay!”
Cruciverbalist, Eleanor Pugh,
Sat, cross-legged, as she pondered this clue.
Nine across, ‘To behave
As audaciously brave’:
And the answer, of course, ‘Derring do’.
Still with Eleanor, now at, ‘Sun’s crown?’.
Concentrating? Ah yes, hence the frown.
What’s that noise? Constant drone –
Crossword puzzle is thrown …
And unwelcome intruder goes down.
Sorry about this, but let’s be honest. The clue was all that challenging, was it?
Surely, bugs should have rights, shouldn’t they?
At the very least, given a say.
Just to brush them aside,
Or worse, bug genocide,
Would seem undemocratic. Dismay!
It’s a serious issue.
I don’t envy you, staff of the zoo
Who not only clean up piles of “doo,”
But contend with the worms
And the bugs and the germs
That the animals carry. Poor you!
When she told me the date she was due
I counted back the months and I knew
The back end of May
I was working away
So who the hell did she screw?
So one night on my walk with ‘His Highness’, with a leash and in hand a bag blue
My fate, it was tempted by Satin, who tip-toed up behind me with, “BOO!”
He demanded I give in to his lure
And to give him something bad and impure…
But I didn’t believe him, and slyly deceived him, by giving the Devil ‘His’ do!
When the bug bites, what else can we do
But give in, our new craze to pursue?
Some discount. “It’s a phase.
He’ll grow out … a few days.”
I’m still wining and wenching. Yahoo!
An actor whom I briefly knew
Said, “Your costume, I’d love to undo”
But when in my bed,
His line simply read,
“It seems I can’t do it on cue”
It came while in bed from her side;
A quiver she couldn’t quite hide.
Although they were through,
He asked “What did you do?”
“Just gave you a hand” she replied.
Oh, what’s a poor straggler to do
For a last minute lim’rick or two,
When he’s promised his daughters
We’d visit the otters
This Saturday down at the zoo?
Despite taxes, the mud and the fleas,
I think life as a serf is a breeze.
I would take up the sword
Anytime for my lord;
Don’t defeudalize me, if you please.
Thanks so much everyone for another fun two weeks of limericks. This Limerick-Off is officially over. And the winner is…
Limerick-Off Award 465. Congratulations to the winners!
But you can still have lots of limerick fun because a new Limerick-Off has just begun: Limerick-Off State.