Limerick-Off Monday – Rhyme Word: SPACE at the end of any one line (Submission Deadline: December 25, 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 SPACE 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 FISH, using any rhyme word. And of course I’ll present an extra award — one for the best FISH-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 December 26, 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, December 25, 2021 at 4:00 p.m. (Eastern Time.)
Here’s my SPACE-rhyme limerick:
My best friends love a catering space,
And they book it whenever they face
An important affair.
But not me, cuz I swear
That it sucks. I’m fed up with the place.
And here’s my FISH-themed limerick:
Female twins host a podcast that’s odd:
Ev’ry week they talk “veggies and scrod.”
And each meal that they eat
Features fish. Never meat!
They are just like two peas in a pod.
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: Catering Humor, Catering Limerick, Competition Limerick, Fish Humor, Fish Limerick, Food Humor, Food Limerick, Limerick Challenge, Limerick Contest, Podcast Humor, Podcast Limerick, Poetry & Prompts, Scrod, Vegetables Humor, Vegetables Limerick, Writing Prompts
“Small Talk”
Oh, honey, you’ve answered my wish!
Thanks so much for that beautiful dish!
Well, I have to confess
That I bought a new dress!
By the way, I’m not cleanin’ that fish.
I took a trek to seek the words of Buddha
What should I serve that goes with bread and Gouda ?
And this was his advice
Start with a layer of rice
And lay on top a slice Barracuda
Slightly Different: John goes a- fishin’
“I knew it was you, by that squish!
Come on in! I have cooked a nice dish.
John, I have to confess:
I just bought a new dress.
By the way, I’m not cleanin’ that fish.”
Mary Confesses
My Mama’s cliches, (golly gee!)
Are so old, yet I realize that she
Wants to give me advice,
But to be real concise:
I have chased ev’ry fish in the sea.
Dropped From the Rolls ~
They call it the “New Frontier,” Ace:
“Giant Step for the New Human Race,”
but if we send you there
you’ll be wasting our air.
Just like now, merely taking up space.
My mind is just blank, – a disgrace.
I once kept ideas in that place.
When I paid a shrink geek
To take a long peek
He got lost in the infinite space.
I was poor; it was such a disgrace.
Now I’m rich, and I’ve got a nice place.
Can’t have everything, though
I do have the dough.
But I really don’t have that much space.
“Tonight’s Specials Are”
Our flounder is quite a nice dish.
It will answer your “fine-dining” wish.
The reason it’s pricey
Is because it’s real spicy,
So you won’t even know that it’s fish.
She said “Just give me some space
and take that smirk off your face “.
“Better get down the road,
you despicable toad”
or, find your butt sprayed with mace”.
You accuse me of being quite oafish,
Because I refuse to eat blowfish.
From all that I hear
Some are poisonous, dear.
For my dish, I would wish to have no fish.
This Bingo’s rigged, what a disgrace!
Just gotta move out of this place!
I’ve been betting for years.
And I’m now in arrears.
Cause Gert never called, “N-Free Space.”
I wanted to serve something light
so I made some fish tacos last night.
But it didn’t work out;
those ungrateful trout
swam off without even a bite!
PSYCHOTHERAPIST! One Word! Upper case!
As a sign-writer, You’re wasted space.
“Here’s the site, do your best”
Was the simple request.
You wrote ‘Psycho The Rapist’ in place.
“Earphones With Contrast”
The MRI tube’s a cool place.
You can ask for some piano with bass.
I attempted to dance,
But there just was no chance.
It really had limited space.
OR: “Those Groovy Earphones”
The MRI tube’s a cool place.
You can ask for some piano with bass.
But don’t start to groove.
Cuz they won’t let you move.
It clearly has limited space.
We should all be giving a place
To the politician who should be in space
In a capsule let rip
On a one way trip
So we no longer look at that face!
FISH:
To make our world piscatorial
We avoid places that seem equatorial
And look in cool sea
For species that we
Would hope can be left as memorial.
As we humans move out into space,
We may find it’s a wonderful place:
Ev’ry world full of life,
Free of hatred and strife.
(We’ll set phasers on kill, just in case.)
Once John Glenn went around us in space,
JFK said, “With Russia let’s race.
Is the moon made of cheese?
Let’s find out. And now please,
Miss Monroe, come and sit on my face.”
Men desire to fill up the space
Underneath all the satin and lace.
But they can’t get away
Without asking today,
Or they might get a faceful of mace.
Said Flotsam and Jetsam the eels,
“To Ursula everyone kneels.
To flounders and bass
She is truly badass,
And to mermaids no mercy she feels.”
In a pond ’twas a goldfish named Roy
Whom the females would always annoy.
To be shy they’d pretend,
But Roy knew in the end
That alas, they were just being koi.
I was yawning, (my bed so appealing)
I got in, what a warm comfy feeling.
Then stared up at space.
What a magical place.
But where were my roof and my ceiling?
Better Grammar Of Line 5 Of Above Limerick
I was yawning, (my bed so appealing.)
I got in, what a nice comfy feeling.
Then stared up at space.
What a magical place.
But where was the roof and the ceiling?
When Superman boinked Lois Lane,
What happened is hard to explain —
She was launched into space
With a smile on her face
And never was heard from again.
There once was a young lad named Ace
Whose visage was like outer space.
His teacher would gripe,
“Hey Ace, would you wipe
That bad simile off your face?!”
When I worked for a while in Dakota,
I was put in sole charge of the motor
That guts fish and soaks ’em
And salts ’em and smokes ’em
And packs ’em and labels ’em BLOATER.
There once was an old fish named Sid
Who loved the aquarium lid.
When he was asked why,
“I’ve just,” he would sigh
“Loved tank tops since I was a kid.”
A lobster who loved, very well, fish
Climbed out on a ledge so to smell fish,
As he lay in wait,
His friend said, “That’s great,
But I think you appear rather shelf-ish.”
A fisherman once met his match
When a mermaid reeled in as his catch.
She said, “You can wish
You were screwing this fish,
But not with your your hook in my snatch!”
To communicate would be fine.
With a fish over some wine.
If you should wish
To talk to a fish.
You can just drop it a line.
The astronaut fell from grace.
Claustrophobic was the case.
Here is a scoop.
He did recoup.
He needed a little space.
When a bagel has a fit.
Leaves the table, tries to quit.
So, here’s a cure
Of which, I’m sure.
You can just put lox on it.
Although there were those who would knock it,
And a few who would openly mock it,
Jeff was shot into space
With a smile on his face
In his massive great cock of a rocket.
UFOs went down in disgrace,
For ridicule you would face.
Though told to desist,
Their viewings persist.
UAPs, the new visitors from space.
The “acres” of skin on a whale
Could provide many ships with a sail.
But the krills the whales eat
Are real small and petite.
Though neither are Fish, – This has Scale.
More people are going to space.
For some it seems like a race.
Lots more on the way,
But will be OK,
Because space is a very big place.
I was driving my bargain Tin Lizzy,
Then abruptly went into a tizzy.
I pulled into a space
At Rickety Place.
My tires informed me they’re dizzy.
An error prone creature from space.
Had a cock he did handle with grace.
Although it’s quite blubbery,
With tip red and rubbery.
He often used it to erase.
I’ll be adding a room to my base
Which I’ll call “Miscellaneous Space.”
So, what will be in it?
Just give me a minute…
Ah, yes. All the things I misplace.
“Same Restaurant; Another Special”
“Our Special’s a wonderful dish.
It will answer your fine-dining wish.
The chef’s gone all out
To spruce up the trout,
So you won’t even know it’s a fish.”
When he sailed on his ship he lost face,
‘Cause he entered a nation’s water space.
In the court he did plea,
Since it turned out to be
An invasion of private sea case.
I’m serving your favorite dish again
for dinner; we’re going to have fish again.
It’s really first-rate!
It comes to your plate
from the crystal clear rivers of Michigan.
In our small coastal town we like hake
From the chippie. We know it’s not fake.
We eat it on Fryday
The day after Thirstday
Then corrections to spellings we make!
The story’s embellished, I’ve found.
Dad says he, practically drowned.
He “tackled” the fish,
Was large ( I’ll say ) “ish.”
Each telling, it grows by a pound.
There once was a man out in space
who thought it too quiet a place.
Space Force was created,
so he went up and waited
for an alien to punch in the face.
Their swimming-up-stream-thing not brief,
Once completed, Lox said with relief,
“Smokie, this is a sign
That our God is benign.”
‘Twas a billboard declaring, “Eat Beef!”
They came to earth from outer space.
Our lifestyle they did embrace.
Their study complete.
They didn’t retreat.
Does not bode well for the human race.
She decided to grant their wish.
To serve up a special dish.
Upset they became.
Their words were profane.
It turns out that dish was just fish.
To divulge it she did resist.
They pried until they got pissed.
Her secret unknown,
She threw them a bone.
You can fish, all you wish, I insist.
Minor Revision: “Tonight’s Special, Part Two” 12/12 8:14 PM
“Our Special’s A wonderful dish.
It will answer your fine-dining wish.
The Chef’s gone all out
To spruce up the trout,
So you won’t know you’re eating a fish.”
A flight into space you see.
Will cost millions for you and me.
For celebs not the case,
Though their cash could fill space.
That flight, you see, will be free.
Without question, dear, I always knew
You could decorate, wow! it’s sure true!
I adore your new place
You’ve made good use of space.
Love that Christmas tree set in the loo.
Do not tell our friends, please don’t spoil it.
And never tell someone who’ll soil it.
I’ve bought a new place.
Made good use of space.
And have added a transparent toilet.
A sad and dissatisfied flounder
Thought life would be sweeter and sounder
If he were a fat fish
Instead of a flatfish,
So constantly yearned to be rounder.
A porn actor using his mitts,
Would playfully fondle her tits.
Then bury his face
In that valley of space;
Disrupting the bit where it fits.
Fish for dinner? Take care if its fugu;
Be aware that it might be a clue to
A poisonous plan,
So get out while you can,
And find the real friends that are due you.
We need housing, affordable space;
Help the homeless in finding a place
To live comfortable lives,
Not on streets or in dives.
What’s happening now’s a disgrace.
When zillionaires blast into space.
One question – so why the big chase?
Does leaving this earth
Help them showcase their worth
To hustle some alien race?
(A period instead of a comma above forces this rewrite)
When zillionaires blast into space,
One question – so why the big chase?
Does leaving this earth
Help them showcase their worth
To hustle some alien race?
He inhaled three platesful of fish,
And belched ’til his friends muttered “Ish;”
It went down just fine
With two bottles of wine–
“Now I just gotta take a good pish.”
It’s always my number-one wish–
When fishing, to catch a big fish;
I’m hooked in the weeds,
While the osprey succeeds
In grabbing a fresh tasty dish.
My sister’s buffet’s based on fish;
Serving all-you-can-eat from each dish
No matter how healthy –
My plate remains empty…
I’d rather have portions of quiche.
An astronaut, waylaid in space;
His nation, his country, lost face
They blamed the Italians
Those sour-faced aliens,
Sparito – that’s “lost without trace”!
When my Rev gave me cod in a dish,
He said, “Eat it all now, if you wish.”
Then he showed me some gear —
Rods and reels (and a spear!)
And I prayed, “Please don’t teach me to fish!”
(Give a man a fish, and he eats for a day.
Teach a man to fish, and it eats at him forever.)
Fish market.
The fresh Plaice, placed on ice in a crate
Were still jumping and hard to placate.
I raced to that space,-
Grabbed a Plaice (and a Dace)
And an ace Hollandaise for my plate.
Ev’ry Sunday, Joe carries a box.
He sits by the stream near the rocks.
He stays for a while.
Always has a big smile.
And he feeds all the fish belly lox.
As a student, Josh seemed out of place.
You could tell by the look on his face.
But he’d read any comic
with themes astronomic.
He’s in college now, taking up space.
Billy, age 8 learns something new.
I didn’t know they were alive.
Amazed that they really could thrive.
In the frig near the sink
They gave me a wink.
The lobsters were doing the jive.
In the land of Antithesis Flats
You might see many short-fingered bats.
People walk upside down
Forth and back over town.
And all of the fish eat the cats.
In Physics, I just hid my face.
I sure couldn’t keep up the pace.
Since I drank lots of wine,
I thought Albert Feinstein
Asked, “What time is it up there in space?”
Chicago has limited space.
Downtown is a real hectic place.
Ev’rybody is rushing.
All shoulders are brushing.
Even rats don’t have space for a race.
Some Mafia guys and their dishes
Claimed enemies swam “with the fishes.”
Such phrasing suggests
That those goombahs, at best,
Were thriving while sharks got their wishes.
In Alfred E. Neuman’s great face,
Between his front teeth there’s a space.
Missing tooth number nine
Makes his smile look divine.
“What me worry?”, he says, “No disgrace.”
At unveiling of “Birth Of A Nation.”
The actress’s guest caused sensation.
Miss Lillian Gish,
Arrived with a fish.
She’s hydrating date for duration.
The film was 3 hrs. 7 min.
The Double Bed Conundrum: John and Mary (Mary speaks first)
“You’re taking up way too much space!
Go home and please sleep in your place.”
“Where are you my dear?
Your voice isn’t clear.”
“That’s because you are smoth’ring my face.”
This youngster who loved a small space.
Could contort her whole body with grace.
The neighbors said, “Freak,
Your future looks bleak.”
Her parents add, “circus, embrace.”
3L Rhythm issue
At unveiling of “Birth Of A Nation.”
The actress’s guest caused sensation.
Lillian, Miss Gish,
Arrived with a fish.
She’s hydrating date for duration.
Said a young angling girl to her mater,
(Re: a young chap who wanted to date her),
“With his worm on my hook
Fish do more than look –
Oh mama – he’s a true master-baiter!”
Introductory book that’s divine.
With the subject of fish, on the line.
Is Seussian driven.
A gift I have given.
To children from newborn to nine.
The classic, Dr Seuss book, “One Fish Two Fish
Red Fish Blue Fish.” I still love it!
“Though I’m named for a fish,” said Mike Trout,
“I don’t swim; baseball’s what I’m about.
You will have a fun day
If you come watch me play
And eat hot dogs with warm sauerkraut.”
“The final frontier? Why, it’s space,”
Said James Kirk, “so its charms I embrace.
And its other appeal
Is the scenes that I steal;
For my acting, it’s quite a showcase.”
The geometry teacher, the best.
Was solving all proofs he would test.
To escape from the sines,
His leisure designs.
A boat, as an angler to rest.
The specialty lure in the brook.
All it took, for the line to be shook.
Then give it some slack.
That fish on attack.
What he found, was a shoe on the hook.
A fisherman, truly an ace.
His stomach has plenty of space.
While starting to sal’vate.
He’s becoming irate.
The minuscule fish, in his face.
There’s a podcast purporting to trace
All the roots of the whole human race.
But I stopped at Big Bang
When I heard our whole gang
Started out as small Adams in space.
Old Fogeys Senior Condos “One At A Time, Please”
At my condo, there isn’t much space.
There are graybeards all over the place.
I said, “Come and then go”
But I’m just full of woe.
They move at a very slow pace.
There once was a goldfish named Joe
In his bowl, ’round he would go
All day and all night
With no goal in sight;
Sort of like Congress, you know?
There once was a daft fish named Stevie
Who lived deep down in Lake Genevy
With his Trump-sized brain gifted,
He’d think, as he drifted,
“Person-woman-man-camera-tv.”
Drunk one night, he had found a warm space
For a nap (in a chook breeding place).
Then up came the sun
And in more ways than one
He’d awoken with egg on his face.
‘Bout fishing, there’s many a lure.
Are all of them reel? I’m not shore.
But I must bare my sole.
I feel they’re not hole.
Not one lure mentions fishing’s a boar.
My computer’s my pet, I must say.
I miss it when I am away
And in need for some space.
When I don’t have to face
That mouse that compels me to play.
Appealing to carp, you can dribble,
Dry dog food in lake, do not quibble.
What’s reported, are carp,
Not terribly sharp.
In summary, kibble for nibble.
All sailors see many a place.
The ocean’s a wide open space.
And even when nauseous,
Those crews aren’t cautious.
They’ll go heave and still splice the main brace.
My “boo” Joe has a real classy place.
So roomy, and lots of bright space.
And even upstairs,
With those nice comfy chairs,
He insists that I sit on his face.
When I went on a trip into space
I thought the whole thing a disgrace.
It’s full of debris
(Mainly used rocketry)
And there’s no atmosphere in the place.
I have frown lines too old to erase
From that place where they’re taking up space.
If I cut down on strife,
And say “no” to the knife,
I’ll save money. (Too late to save face).
My garden grows all I could wish
I can make just about any dish
But there’s still something missin’
For all that I’m wishin’
I still cannot grow beef or fish
All the wires are swinging in place
Cuz the crows came and took up the space
But it just became shocking
And there’s no more crows rocking
Only feathers, of crows there’s no trace
Continuing David Friedman’s series on fish with names…
A tuna whose name was Raúl
Wouldn’t run with a crowd, as a rule.
Off alone on a lark,
He fell prey to a shark.
Here’s the lesson: don’t drop out of school.
There once was a catfish named Tim
Who one day contrived, on a whim,
A limerick fine,
Much better than mine
(I wish I could write them like him).
He quickly pulled into a space.
They shared a romantic embrace.
Pinned her down, got on top.
Then along came a cop.
Joe got shot. Tumbled down. Fell from Grace.
Move the safe dear, it’s taking up space.
Try putting it under the vase.
It was heavy, he fell.
Had to say my farewell.
There are some things you just can’t replace.
It’s Black Friday, and what a fun race!
Wake up early and rush to Court Place.
The moon’s now in view.
No shoppin’ for you.
Oh look! Here’s a really good space!
Black Friday: a minor revision. (better)
It’s Black Friday, and what a fun race!
Wake up early, and rush to Court Place!
The moon’s now in view.
No shoppin’ for you.
Well, whaddya know! Here’s a space.
Each time the danseur leaped into space,
He wowed the crowd with technique and grace;
When his leotard split,
They all gasped, “Oh shit!”
As their idol fell flat on his face.
Japan shot a probe into space,
That disappeared leaving no trace;
When it became known
That the mission was blown,
The project director lost face.
He decided, for good, to erase
The lines from his middle-aged face;
Result? Not so grand,
In fact, rather bland–
An expanse of boring blank space.
Don’t you think it’s the slightest bit odd
That E-pisca-pals worship a god
That resembles some fishes
And tastes so delicious?
Yes it’s true. I am swearing to Cod!
The salmon, I read in the papers,
Is subject to heat and to vapors,
And once he is cured
From what he’s endured,
He’s served up with bagels and capers.
“SHHH”
Close the closet door; we’ve enough space.
You know me! I’ve got all things in place:
My vaginal ring
With that spermicide thing.
And some Pampers, (you know), just in case.
A glutton named Henry the first
Found himself at a banquet immersed,
In lampreys galore,
He un-soberly swore
“These eels are really the worst.”
Triple-decker (figure it out) cat limerick:
Said the boss to the fish-seller, “Todd,
Your damn cat just scarfed up all the cod,
Herring, whiting and plaice
That we had in this space!
Take her home or I’ll deck you, by God!”
When fishing for honorable mentions
In waters with bawdy dimensions,
Just know from the start
A poem’s a fart,
Hot air with artistic pretensions.
Not for Limerick-Off.
(Hopefully not an Off-Limerick).
Wishing you all a Happy…….
Merry Christmas to All on Mad’s Blogs
I am Not PC (don’t pop your clogs)
And don’t be offended
(This won’t be amended)
Love and Peace whether Jews, Poms, or Wogs.
(NB: WOG means Western Oriental Gentleman)
Brits living in Australia are often referred to as Poms, either affectionately (G’day, – ya Pommy bastard).
Or non-affectionately (Fuck off, – ya Pommy bastard).
My gold fish was truly sublime.
Believe it or not, he could climb.
All the way up the stairs.
I’ve been sending him prayers.
He only could do it one time.
“I’m Man Eating Shark, how de do?
Calm down Sir, you’re turning all blue!
I’m not all that needy,
And nor am I greedy.
I just want a petite bitey boo.”
So Pfizer had said they’d create a
New vaccine for Covid mutata.
I hope it will stick on
The latest Omicron…….
And not just the Alpha and Beta.
The town clock was old; dowdy and brown
Its quiet bell and the rig all fell down.
Now they’ve filled up the space
With a stunning clock face.
Its loud Tick is the Tock of the Town.
At First National, found a dark space.
Had my gun, and my mask was in place.
But I then changed my mind.
It just seemed so unkind.
Cuz I do all my banking at Chase.
The last wish of a fish known as Phil,
In a brook with a hook in his gill?
While making his peace,
With catch-and-release,
He said, “Eat me, man! Give me a thrill!”
I’m enjoying the David-and-Tim Fish names Franchise. Funny-bone fish!
Thanks for the good wishes, Terry. Right back atcha! Or, if I may borrow the vernacular, Happy Holidays, ya pommy poet! (Thanks to you, I now know that a “pom” is much more than a pom-pom) :)
Billy: Age 6
Mommy told me to make lots of space
To put all her new make up in place.
She came home; put it on.
Then came out of the john.
And was wearing some other mom’s face.
There once was a starfish named Sjaan
(Whose name had a certain elan)
Her verse would inspire us
While mine cause a virus,
Though hopefully not Omicron.
************
From Mad Kane: I changed your “His verse” to “Her verse,” because Sjaan is a female.
Now Covid-for-names is a thing.
“Delta Airlines” and “Micron” you sing.
Google chose “Alphabeta”;
(I can’t wait for Meta!)
But why leave out poor Xi (Jin Ping)?
The final frontier known as “Space”
Is becoming a Star Wars arms race.
Russian satellite pieces
And cosmonaut feces
Are flying all over the place!
The burlesque performer Patrish
Invited me home for a dish.
Instead of the supper
I wanted to tup her.
The meal? Not too bad, smelled like fish.
Way too many funnies to read
Please make me a program to weed
The best in this place
And scrounge up my face
The girls like a smooth silky steed.
Happy Holidays!
So glad we’ve got plenty of space.
Can’t wait to see everyone’s face!
The turkey’s all done.
Oh, Honey, Go Run!
Aunt Gertrude’s here! Get out the vase!
It goes well with lemon and Dill
For some it’s a poisonous pill
If you’re very opposed
And very hard nosed
Let slip through the bars of the gril
Fishy Encounter
“You’re a dish” she said to fish
“I once caught a man very swish
I got him to fall
Hook sinker and all
Seventh wife, no kidding. You wish!”
“Senior Living”
Please don’t think that we’re all out of space
At Ancient Establishment Place.
If you do care to move,
You first have to prove
There’s no chance you can tie your own lace.
Space Without Front tears
What does it mean?
When you hear a fish talk
You’ll understand.
A fish , now in deep outer space
With Tesla AI. Made a face
These bastards don’t trust me
I bit one, he cussed me
I didn’t like his mate’s fancy lace.
Have you heard that I’m known as “The King
Of Musicians?” (I totally swing)
You should always make space
For a guy who plays bass.
We sure know how to pop a G string.
Two piranhas, named Kevin and Kate,
Made their way down a stream, where they ate.
Then they had a big row.
Kate said, “Don’t have a cow!”
Kevin grinned as he answered, “Too late!”
A very short tale for one fish.
His home in a bowl, was smallish.
The bobtailed cat smiled,
Her eyes were now wild.
Soon licking her lips, said, “Delish.”
Remember the fish they called Wanda?
Starring Curtis and Kline (but not Fonda).
In the end, Kevin Kline
On Wanda would dine,
A truly unfortunate shanda.
Dad said, “Let’s go fishin’ it’s great.
Wake up early, it’s bad if we wait.”
I’ll always regret it.
I just didn’t get it.
How could somebody victimize bait?
The Detective
In the bedroom, I noticed a space
With items a bit out of place:
Someone’s bra and pink panties.
I would NEVER wear scanties.
Not to brag, but I sensed a small trace.
A Note to My Roommate
You were only gone for a day
Don’t overfeed the fish, you did say
The white one ate until it blew up
Now it’s in the tank belly-up
Knowing you’d kill me, I ran away
In the masseuse’s curtained-off space
I indulged in a naughty embrace.
But, arrested for vice,
The judge yelled at me twice
“You’re a cheat! You’re a f*****g disgrace!
(Attribution to “Caviar comes from the Virgin Sturgeon”)
A gynecological surgeon
Brought young patients to dinner. The sturgeon
And black caviar
With a fresh oyster bar
Yields success when you’re urgin’ a virgin.
A fisherman writing some prose
Fell off his boat. How? No one knows.
He called “I’ll be fine, –
Just drop me a line”
His friend yelled “My dog’s got no nose!”
Writing “dick” and then “sperm” sends a thrill
But you’re christened as Herman Melville.
So instead it’s a whale,
Name of Moby, large tail,
Swims around Captain Ahab, eats krill.
To a Former Classmate
I won’t chase you in cyberspace
This thing called life I didn’t ace
You were the target of bullies
Now you’ve got two PhD’s
I know you’re in a better place
She says I’m a serious disgrace,
And what’s more, that I’m way our of place.
This may sound bizarre,
But I did leave my car
In her precious reserved parking space.
Writing “dick” and then “sperm” with your quill
Was a habit of Herman Melville.
But in fact it’s a whale,
Name of Moby, large tail,
Swims around Captain Ahab, eats krill.
Though disasters and setbacks may pain us,
Still our ultimate goal will sustain us
On our mission to race
Through the dark depths of space
With our vision of probing Uranus.
I served a meringue, deeply charred,
With a purée of lamb’s heart and lard,
A raspberry sherbet,
And strips of raw turbot,
And now I’m three-Michelin-starred.
In a sequel called, “Nemo: True Story,”
Is a scene that’s both spineless and gory.
A jellyfish, “Squishy”
(Whose motives are fishy),
Eats a Blue Tang, then laughs, “Hunky Dory!”
(Getting deep in the weeds with more fish tales)
Playing poker, my usual space.
I am holding one card with a face.
So 3 cards I gave back,
Held my ten and my Jack,
Drew a Queen and a King and an Ace!
Meditating to never grow fatter,
Contemplating the fish on my platter.
Ate the head of the hake
But turned down the cake
It’s a question of mind over batter
You’ll never get dogfish to bark
Or ever to walk in the park
But never forget
It’s a much better pet
Than a ravenous hammerhead shark.
I’m named Mars, I’m soliciting Venus.
When gravity pulls on my penis
I say “Let us embrace
In our orbital space
And have asteroids flying between us”.
MINOR REVISION
Don’t you think it’s the slightest bit odd
That E-pisca-pals worship a god
That resembles some fish
And tastes so delish?
Yes it’s true. I am swearing to Cod!
When ordering dinner in space,
Remember the rules of the place.
“Stuffed cabbage is out,”
Your crew mates will shout,
“‘Cause flatulence here’s a disgrace.”
To enter that heavenly place,
You no longer need as much grace.
Thanks to souls Trump’s corrupted
Downward flow has erupted,
And Hades has run out of space.
Another typo! (In line 2 –Dec 18, 10:26 pm — corrected)
She says I’m a serious disgrace,
And what’s more, that I’m way out of place.
This may sound bizarre,
But I did leave my car
In her precious reserved parking space
Ethnic food’s not for me, so you’ll know.
Sukiyaki or sushi? No, no!
And I don’t have the will tuh
Eat fish called gefilte.
Some pizza’s as far as I’ll go.
My wife plays accordion it’s true,
So, what the hell can I do!
I give lots of space,
But she plays in my face.
Spanish eyes, a polka or two.
I drove up to Bodega Bay
To sample the oysters and they
Are the best that I’ve had!
Are you noticing Mad
There’s no smut in my limericks today?
“It’s Me Or The Fish”
Can’t stand all his damn fishing trips.
He comes home, walks right in and he drips.
Bought a hook and a worm,
And I watched “hubby” squirm,
When I stuck it right into his lips.
“Trying to get home”
New York City has plenty of space.
But at five, there’s a slow-going pace.
The horns keep on blaring.
There’s a whole lot of swearing.
And no one is winning this race.
There MUST be a better way to transport them!
The highway’s got plenty of space.
Now and then you’ll confront a disgrace.
In front of your car,
You’ll notice there are
Horses butts end to end in your face.
There’s a long kind of eel called a conger,
And it’s like a short eel only longer,
So if you always thought
That a conger was short,
Then quite frankly you couldn’t be wronger.
It was Benjamin’s ultimate wish
To serve his dear friends a nice dish.
The funeral has ended.
The widow’s extended
Her manners, but what? No whitefish?
Fishing Instructions With Consideration: Rules
Wake up at the crack of the dawning.
Put your gear on and stop all that yawning.
Respect the girl fish.
Let her have her sweet wish.
Don’t bother her when she is spawning.
Hungry Fish In Private Lakes: Lake Kachuma
Lake Kachuma is very subdued.
And when we are both in the mood,
We watch hungry fish, (stocked)
And still very shocked
When they walk on land looking for food.
To the West Side they said we should go.
(We’ve been all over town, but no show).
So we’ll look into this
For our ‘dish’ of a fish.
There’s a Plaice for us Somewhere, – I know.
With less fear of travel to space,
And restaurants now on moon base.
Though the view is ideal,
And the food is quite real.
There’s no atmosphere in this place.
Now up to a furious pace,
Unvaxxed are the heart of this chase.
An absence of brains
Hastens Omicron’s gains;
It thrives in unoccupied space.
Left career with the stressors and strains.
His daughter is whiny, complains.
A line and a hook,
With a babbling brook.
The forehead’s back bulging with veins.
Las Vegas: Fast Wedding Ad: Rules
“Come to “Weddings Are Us” What a Place!
We require just one small embrace.
Then she says, “I Do”
And you say “I Have To
Cause I don’t really need too much space”
(wonder if it’s a trick) :)
Men lie when they see a cute face.
Cause their goal is to get past “third base.”
I was easily led.
Ended up in his bed.
Then found out that he wasn’t in space.
Scales, vacant eyes, and false lures,
Lying about what is yours —
Perhaps your suspicion
Is this concerns fishin’,
But I speak of lawyers, of course.
Writers, put shoes on, and lace.
Metaphor’cally speaking, a race.
You fish for word play,
If hooked, you can sway.
Could end, with first place, in this space.
Said the Lord one day high up in space,
“Before eating, you’d better say grace.”
Although many assert
That it’s rubbish they blurt,
They still do as He asks, just in case.
A young prawn was withdrawn from the sea
By a net (couldn’t get himself free).
Since it wasn’t his wish
To be caught like a fish,
He cried, “This scampi happ’ning to me!”
“Meditation explores inner space;
Towards nirvana my students all race,”
Said the guru. “To soar,
Leave your funds at the door;
Your material wealth we’ll erase.”
Rod takes fish from my dish when we dine,
But he pays for both meals, so it’s fine.
I put up with this blunder,
But doesn’t he wonder
Why I never say, “Your plaice or mine?”
Your gumbo just sticks in my craw.
The crawfish you used is still raw.
No andouille? No shrimp?
And on okra you skimp?
It’s against every known Creole law.
There once was a chef on Nantucket
Who boiled bouillabaisse by the bucket.
But look here. Oh damn!
There’s an unopened clam.
You’ll first have to chuck it or shuck it.
Note to Steve Benko,
Very clever variation of Pascal’s Wager.
Pascal’s Wager (or Pascal’s Gambit) is the name for an idea that Blaise Pascal had. He said that it is not possible to prove or disprove that God exists. Therefore, it is better to bet that God exists. … If God did not exist it would make no difference
Go Cubbies! (You have to like them here even if you don’t care)
Wrigley Field is that really cool place
Where the Cubs take up most of the space.
God Forbid, call it “Stadium!!”
Fans will stuff you with radium.
Then give you a smack in the face.
(apologies to those who like the White Sox)
Please delete previous (dec 21. 5.13pm).
Who knew!?
They met friends in a known public space
(Cos they could!) with no mask on their face.
Seemed surprised when they knew
What they thought was The Flu
Turned out to be Covid’s next case.
Old School
Blackboard dust: it’s all over the place.
And 35 desks, (not much space.)
I loved those old days
And the old-fashioned ways.
Learning script. A to Z. Then erase.
Now you have to PAY for it!
Hearts and flowers to days of “slow pace.”
Black and white in a real tiny space.
So silly and funny.
Didn’t need any money.
To giggle at “Georgie and Grace.”
She said, “I have made you a dish
Which will answer a gourmet’s first wish.”
But I wasn’t real glad.
Thought the fish had gone bad.
And if so, it will taste just like fish.
As to Bezos and Branson (the race
To see which might first frolic in space):
You may think me cynic
But I think this gimmick
Exudes the term “vanity case.”
This fish, though he swims in a school,
Has not learned how to win in a duel.
Though with anglers he’ll wrangle,
He’s drawn to the dangle:
And then falls for the bait. What a fool!
I took of my helmet in space
Lost my nose and lips in that place
Now when I see old friends
Recognition depends
If they know me by voice, not face
A “Cougar” from near Menlo Park
Was pursuing her prey after dark.
While attracting a youth
Her sharpened eye tooth
Had him worried she might be a shark.
I hear that the whole human race
Is planning to move into space
But that don’t bother me
If all of them flee
I cannot be arsed to give chase
Between your two ears there’s a space.
Its contents could cause some disgrace.
But in your case it’s bare,
With nothing in there.
And that we can see in your face.
Defensive end rushing with pace;
Then Good Morning America’s face.
Replace New York Giants
With Bezos’ alliance…….
Michael Strahan has gone into space!
The first draft of a classic by Poe
Has been found, as I’m sure you don’t know.*
It’s an interesting case:
Seems he ran out of space.
So the last line concludes “nevermo”
* Mainly because I just made it up.
Lesbos womenfolk up in her face,
Sappho bolted. She needed some space;
Then in Sicily met
Men who didn’t know yet
That she came from a whole different place.
I ran in the Marathon Race.
At the start, there is one inch of space.
And then went the gun.
So ECSTATIC! I WON!
The “Razzie” for “Very Last Place”.
“Sometimes The Magic Doesn’t Work” (Bob and Ted)
What allured me was how he was swishin’
We’d spend hours just waggin’ and dishin’
When I couldn’t get hard,
I would then disregard.
A limp rod is still good for fishin’
When billionaires fly into space,
A mass general strike they should face.
My plan for our picket?
A free one-way ticket
To Mars or another such place.
A Big Bang! A Black Hole, and much Hissing
(Understand it’s not Einstein I’m diss’ing),
But you cannot see space
(Though it’s right in your face),
So how can you tell if it’s missing?
Teaching My Son To Fish
“Though there’s plenty of action below,
Just relax, son and take it real slow.
But if you feel sunk,
Don’t go into a funk.
The dead fish all go with the flow.”
To fish, Captain Ahab set sail,
But he saw Moby Dick, the white whale.
Was he ever obsessed,
By the devil possessed!
His undoing. He just wouldn’t bail.
On the trawlers, it is sooner than later
You learn fishing can require something greater
Than a mere rod and reel
And that tingle you feel
Is what makes you a skilled master baiter.
Please delete Dec. 18 at 6.46pm.
I’ve done it again!: Knows and nose. (When is a rhyme Not a rhyme?). I hate it when that happens. Only just noticed it, – luckily.
A fisherman writing some prose
Fell off his boat (Hounded by crows).
He called “I’ll be fine, –
Just drop me a line”
His friend yelled “My dog’s got no nose!”
Thanks Sjaan!
FYI: There seems to be no prove-able origin of the term Pom, though there are several popular theories. The most likely one (apparently) is that it’s an abbreviation of Pomegranite, because the English immigrants had the same rosy/ruddy complexion. Have a Cool Yule!
When chilling with Steve, my pet stickleback,
I’d tickle his fins, he would tickle back,
Then he’d wiggle each spine,
Of which he had nine,
to the post-grungey music of Nickelback.
Blitzen’s teaching the reindeer to brace
When they’re landing in limited space.
“To alight on the roof
You must dig in your hoof,
Or expect Rudolf’s butt in your face!”
Selling old fish online which I pass off
As fresh; I don’t care if I brass off
The fishmongers store.
So I’m ROF
LOL, in fact, LMAO.
Said Jonah inside of the whale,
“If I live, this will be quite a tale!
When you’re stuck in a fish,
You can’t find a knish;
There’s no bagels and lox in this jail!”
I feel that my brain is now shrinking.
Or maybe my wit is just sinking.
Cuz right in that place
There is just no more space.
Decision? I’m done with all thinking.
In my mailbox, there’s just no more space.
Those “amount dues” sure keep up the pace.
The “Bill and Check Meet”
Is stirring up heat.
(Without fail, all those bills win the race.)
Love this pub with a real cozy space.
It’s called Deja Vu, what a place!
Ev’ry time that you go
They’ve a feeling they know
Your name, by the smile on your face.
Just thought of another punch line!
Love this pub with a real cozy space.
It’s called Deja Vu, what a place!
Ev’ry time that you go,
They’ve a feeling they know
That your credit card’s issued by Chase.
While variant omicron carries on,
Amassing addiction with Amazon.
Should slow down my pace,
Don’t really have space.
Soon primary residence woe-be-gone.
Absolutely True! It happened in 1983, while getting ready for a space trip with Sally Ride, first woman in space.
“NASA’S Rocket Scientists” (As confirmed by Ms. Ride)
Must have had a strange look on her face.
And probably one of disgrace.
NASA guy, kinda’ gruff,
Asked, “One hundred enough?
Of them tampons for one week in space?”
You try spicy fish curry,
Be easy why such hurry.
All about your taste,
You finished in haste.
Empty plates left after my worry.
With astronaut sex in space
Success is not always the case.
High class depravity
Is better with gravity,
So your junk is not all over the place.
I prepared a meal of flounder.
My advice couldn’t be sounder.
For she would wish,
She had eaten her fish.
Then I wouldn’t need to ground her.
To Rudy, Steve and Pascal: (not necessarily my belief)
To believe in God is divine,
But which God you must define.
There’s so many in space,
For the whole human race.
If only she’d give me a sign.
“Over Bought” For Quarantine
Toilet paper all over the place.
It seems we have run out of space.
We bought five hundred two
Rolls, what we do
Is eat it for roughage. First we say grace.
Attention all Limerick-Off Stragglers: The current Limerick-Off ends tomorrow, Saturday, at 4 pm (Eastern time.) So please get your limerick stragglers in.
The cat, fluffy white with large paws.
Did not obey nature’s laws.
With red hat he did race.
In his sleigh all through space.
For his name was Santa Claws.
I’m A Genius
I’m singing a real pompous tune.
Ev’ry expert I know is a goon.
I now state my case:
The very first one in space
Was the cow who jumped over the moon.
Astronaut was in the outer space,
His Cord connected to the base,
Spined in the zero gravity ,
Helicopter named ingunity ,
Clumsy suit hafty walk he face.
A tortoise was sent into space;
A witness said, seeing its face,
“I’m shocked that Elon’ll
Send up Mitch McConnell,
Wearing a damn carapace.”
Last minute alteration of my posting of
December 21, 2021 at 2:58 pm (in line 5)
There once was a chef on Nantucket
Who boiled bouillabaisse by the bucket.
But look here. Oh damn!
There’s an unopened clam.
You’ll first have to shuck it or chuck it.
Dane Paulsen, some facts you must face.
No Gods can be found out in space.
On Olympus they dwell
And they keep, sure as hell,
All their women-folk mute in their place.
It’s so cramped here, with minimum space.
Want to move to a much bigger place.
I can feel when she’s walking.
And hear when she’s talking.
But I still want to check out her face.
Modern misses defending their space
Should give thanks to the makers of mace.
Nothing says, “I said no
And I meant it. Please go!”
Like a pepper-spray jet in the face.
When you look at the length of the oarfish,
You see ten feet of fish and then more fish,
And then more feet and more,
Twenty-three, twenty-four,
So you’re wrong if you think it is dwarfish.
The moray woke up feeling ich
and swam to the vet. “Am I sick?”
The vet shook her head.
“You are just eel instead.
And that’s why you’re shaped like a dick.”
What’s the best part of fishing? The tale
Of that time when you reeled in a whale.
You begin, “Thar she blows!”
With each telling, it grows,
So the story will never go stale.
He eagerly unpeeled the wrapper
Expecting to find some red snapper.
Instead he found cod,
Which was frustratingly odd,
Because his dinner plans went right down the crapper.
We know that the almighty graces
us with children to fill our embraces.
But would it be so bad
if we paused, for a tad?
Less traffic and more parking spaces!
There once was a cat with a wish-
to learn how to swim with the fish.
He fervidly swore
it was just to explore
while gently caressing his dish.
A swordfish that’s up to his gills,
With small fish, he’s had his fills.
He’s had it with fish,
It’s been his main dish.
He’s ready for something that thrills.
Proudly caught my first fish at last minute.
Now I’m home and attempting to skin it.
But it’s not working out:
I’ve fucked up my Trout, –
So I’ll swallow my pride and just bin it!
A sailfish feeling quite light.
Jumped high and actually took flight.
With wind in his sail
(He was in a gale).
He very soon flew out of sight.
Some folks are innately genteel
and I do understand how they feel.
How can I expect
to command their respect
when in lim I have sex with an eel?
The eel was certainly willing
and I found his long body fulfilling.
There was not much romance
but our sexual dance
made me happy, though the water was chilling.
There are some things it’s better to hide.
I should not rush right out and confide.
Cuz the eel, you see,
wasn’t happy with me.
His adult’ry was too hard to hide.
The eel was terribly naughty.
He was much more fun than Gennadiy.
Our sex life was inventive
and it gave me incentive
to take good care of my body.
I hope you’re not feeling eel
to learn of my sexual thrill.
It does sound perverse
but in service of verse,
I’ll toss dignity right off the hill.
My eel friend isn’t that dumb.
He keeps it down to a dull hum.
When our parts start to mingle,
I feel a faint tingle.
It’s a warning that he’s going to come.
I hope you don’t have an aversion
to learn of my piscine perversion.
He’s of age and said yes,
makes a belt for my dress
and was caught on my fishing excursion.
My sex with the eel has passed.
I just fished him out of my ass.
I’m ashamed I’m a sinner
but he’s now Christmas dinner….
and topped with a dome made of glass.
Thanks so much everyone for another fun two weeks of limericks. This Limerick-Off is officially over. And the winner is…
Limerick-Off Award 485. Congratulations to the winners!
But you can still have lots of limerick fun because a new Limerick-Off has just begun: Limerick-Off Right.