Limerick-Off Monday – Rhyme Word: RIGHT or WRITE or RITE at the end of any one line (Submission Deadline: January 8, 2022)
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 RIGHT or WRITE or RITE 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 SHOTS, using any rhyme word. And of course I’ll present an extra award — one for the best SHOTS-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 January 9, 2022, 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, January 8, 2022 at 4:00 p.m. (Eastern Time.)
Here’s my RIGHT or WRITE or RITE-rhyme limerick:
I do NOT do a lot of conversing;
Too much small talk will likely spur cursing.
Why prattle, or fight?
I would much rather write
And indulge in some rhyme-world immersing.
And here’s my SHOTS-themed limerick:
“My boss enjoys calling the shots.
And he likes to tie staff up in knots.
He’s a dim bulb and dolt,
Who once caused a revolt.
Seems at birth he was shorted some watts.”
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: Boss Humor, Boss Limerick, Competition Limerick, Conversation Humor, Limerick Challenge, Limerick Contest, Limerick Writing, Poetry & Prompts, Prattle, Rhyming Humor, Small Talk Humor, Workplace & Career Humor, Workplace Limerick, Writing & Publishing Humor, Writing Prompts
Love “police shows”, I’ve always admired
Those cops who do just what’s required.
Like Trump at debates.
Who stands there and waits
To mouth off his trumped-up shots fired.
Just Who Are These Parker Brothers?
“Play With Your Kids”
Play “Monopoly” all day and night,
Cuz your children just must see the light.
When in jail, there’s no doubt
You can bribe your way out.
Is that wrong, or perhaps a bit right?
“Slow Learner”
The first 2 lines have an “end rhyme”
Think of words, such as dime, crime, and mime.
The middle is tight.
And that’s how you write
A lim’rik, (It took me 5 years)
Two brothers whose last name was Wright
Are known for the first powered flight.
If you’re wondering who
Was the brother that flew,
It was Orville, because he was light.
Mama said, “It is time to desire
A husband who always aims higher.”
I performed “Mama’s Rite”
“Hub” and I fought each night.
He was my sweet baptism of fire.
LOL! LOL! LOL! Limerick #3 was my limerick, attempting to teach someone
a limerick. And my limerick example was INCORRECT!
Ya gotta laugh. (I did) I will try to redeem myself.
Don’t sit there and cry salty tears.
It’s easier than it appears.
I shall teach you to write
A lim’rik tonight.
Unlike mine were for five solid years.
My Vacation
My foot fell asleep on the flight,
Yet the rest of my body felt right.
Then at the hotel,
I slept very well,
But my foot stayed awake through the night.
Yes, this is her name: Dr. Jennifer Schott. ( 49 S. Waukegan Rd.
Deerfield, IL.) PEDIATRICIAN !! (about 10 minutes from my apartment)
A shot, to a kid is a plot.
They’ll do anything, so they will not
Get poked, (wow, they scream)
To a real loud extreme!
Ain’t no tot who wants shots from Doc. Schott.
On the one hand, Mom hated my weight;
On the other, she loved when I ate.
Now, I know it’s not right —
But with old age in sight,
I still thrill when my kids clean their plate!
“Shots,” she said — ah, but which definition?
Is it “firing of live ammunition”?
Is it “throws of a ball”
Or “distilled alcohol” —
Or “the jabs that ward off the mortician”?
Said Stravinsky, “My schedule is tight;
My publishers called me last night
To commission a song
About righting a wrong,
But I’m too busy writing a Rite.”
Wright (a writer self-styled) published “Rite”;
The reviews said “Prolix, crude and trite.”
The chagrined author vowed,
“Write? No more! I’m allowed
To go right to the bar and get tight.”
The photographer’s English was lean;
The police soon arrived on the scene.
His mistake was to state
To the guard on the gate
“I have come to take shots at your Queen.”
After pounding nine shots of sloe gin
I took note of her come-hither grin.
So we went to her place.
But oh God, the disgrace!
I was wholly unable to sin.
Inspired by the title of my late sister’s first book: Fertility Rights by Fay Nedra Zachary.
They observed a fertility rite
But conception remained out of sight.
The problem was this:
Though they knew how to kiss,
They failed the delight of the night.
1952
Arithmetic gave me a fright.
And never could I see the light.
My teacher, Miss Sleazy
Said, “Try this one, it’s easy:
1 wrong +1 wrong equals right.”
There are days when the rhymes that I write
Fill my readers with raucous delight,
But most mornings my verse
Could not be any worse.
I do my best writing at night.
A tragedy in Limerick form
He was told that a Pfizer injection
Can mean that a COVID infection
Is much less severe,
But he still wouldn’t hear
‘Cause his Trumpism gave him protection.
Then one day he started to cough,
And though he continued to scoff.
He never had thoughts
Of the value of shots
‘Til the doc turned his life support off.
Though them experts are clever and bright,
The gene pool still gives me a fright.
I look all around
And never have found
A lifeguard, and that just ain’t right.
Poetic (limericious) Justice
He cared aught for the unemployed’s plight.
“Owning Libruls,” his source of delight
‘Til a passel of trouble
Burst his comf’torble bubble.
Now he no longer leans to the Right.
The true definition of tedious: “Foundation” by Issac Azimov
Issac Asimov: awesomely bright!
Biochemist, and so outta’ sight.
He taught at B.U.
Had a PHD too.
But this whiz never learned how to write.
Better: limerick from 2 AM this morning (#8)
Dr. Jennifer Schott, an actual pediatrician from Deerfield, IL
All kids think that shots are a “plot.”
They’ll do anything, so they will not
Get poked, (wow they scream)
To a real loud extreme.
Not one tot wants a shot from Doc Schott.
Revision: For all those writers who remember me way back when
Don’t cry all those big baby tears.
It’s easier than it appears.
I shall teach you to write
A lim’rik tonight,
Unlike mine which sure sucked for 5 years.
Studied ballet, break dancing and tap
To Tchaikovsky, Count Basie and rap.
And now I’m eighty-five
Got my shot to dance live
At venues all over the map.
A bris is a wonderful rite.
A party, a feast, a delight.
The spirits are high,
But one must wonder why
That baby just cries out of spite.
You ask me just why do I write.
In earnest I think that I might
Deserve a real shot
To have (or have not?)
Some honorable mentions in sight.
There’s a faction that’s riddled with twits
Who have far more polemic than wits:
“Don’t get jabbed!” they all cry
As folks sicken and die —
So they’re both anti-shots and pro shits.
Each morning I make myself write
even when no ideas are in sight.
With a limerick like this,
I’m just taking the piss,
but it beats nothing at all (right?).
“Bar Mitzvah” The coming-of-age tradition for a 13 year old Jewish boy
Same back in the fifties with one difference:
The Bar Mitzvah was such a delight.
The service, and party that night.
But more vital, yet
The boy would then get
A fountain pen, so he could write.
How To Find The Man Of Your Dreams
The “Match” site was down, yet I got
A date who was fine and real hot.
I clicked on “Save Me”
Found a cute escapee.
Who had a real stunning mug shot.
I do have my right
to say and think what I might
but just in case
it comes down to saving face
I’ll wait until you see the light
They call it a jab
a more accurate term than blab
than shooting fear
here, there, and everywhere
as common place gab
Professor Blotter Teaches “Novel Writing”
“Now students, you must take a seat.
To pen a great novel’s a feat.
Do not get uptight.
Here’s the best way to write:
Never never repeat and repeat.”
Professor Blotter’s Next Class (I think Shakespeare did this, just a thought)
“At times you can just not prevent it.
But certainly, do not resent it.
Oops! I just pressed “submit”
Professor Blotter’s Next Class (I think Shakespeare did this, just a thought)
“At times, you can just not prevent it.
But certainly, do not resent it.
Ev’ry time that you write,
Do not feel uptight.
Can’t find the right word? Just invent it.”
Just moments from sliding off slacks.
I am shot with remorse, making tracks.
Though a sensuous sight,
He is clearly not right.
It’s between those two ears that he lacks.
Just moments from sliding off slacks.
I am shot with desire. What he packs!
A sensuous sight,
He is clearly not right.
Who cares, just a brain that he lacks.
There’s a guy I know, his name’s Dwight
A car accident (side-swiped…) his plight
Whole left side paralyzed
Doctor said, I surmised…
“The BAD news is that NOW you’re ALL RiGHT!”
Missing ‘that’ one little word…
There’s a guy that I know, his name’s Dwight
A car accident (side-swiped…) his plight
Whole left side paralyzed
Doctor said, I surmised…
“The BAD news is that NOW you’re ALL RiGHT!”
Not Right!
Say goodbye to inalienable rights
It’s the perfect storm of human plights
Soon we’ll all be left handed
We’ll all limp and be stranded
And we’ll have to turn left at the lights!
She fell deeply in love, -at first sight,
with a left-handed guy in the night.
The mollydooker was deft
but he Left her bereft,
with a feeling that wasn’t quite Right!
My friend Lloyd watches flicks (as his Rite…)
As he sits, he’ll produce cellulite…
Fitness coach threatened him,
“Better get to the gym!
Tell you Lloyd, celluloid, not tonight!”
I sure got in trouble last night.
With Judge Hanging, I had a big fight!
I raised my left hand.
I guess that is banned.
On the Bible I then placed the right.
Some folks are refusing the shot;
They claim it’s some kind of a plot.
And maybe they’re right;
Mother Nature just might
Be setting them up to get caught.
What???
There’s one phrase that sure makes me uptight.
It’s meaningless, silly and trite.
I will not abide
And always decide
When I do or do not “Have The Right.”
Mama: long gone, but never forgotten
Wouldn’t call it “the utmost delight,”
Cuz it’s phony, and yet it is right.
The hand that you shake
Might feel like a snake.
(Wish she’d never said, “Son, be polite”)
Highland Park Pediatrics, where I worked for 9 years.
“Experience”
Some parents mistrusted a shot.
Not concerned if their sweet children got
Pertussis, or mumps
Nasty chicken pox lumps.
They bring flowers to Mary Jane’s plot.
Jen’s husband was trying to write
A poem he hoped would excite
Her passionate side.
But the more that he tried,
His assonance failed to ignite.
A couple of changes for the above:
Jen’s husband was trying to write
A poem he hoped would ignite
Her passionate side.
But as hard as he tried,
His assonance failed to excite.
Never step on a crack; it’s not right!
Cuz the demon will come into sight!
And the reason that I
Am sure you will die
Is I’m Mr. Flip Side Of Bright.
It’s Saturday night, and you might
Feel like square dancing most of the night.
It’s that one special time
And even a crime
If you don’t know your left from your right.
This Birthday provided his right
To drink, but he wasn’t that bright.
Swigging shot after shot,
They soon found him besot,
And he ended the night in a fight.
Doc said, “It is surely alright
For Viagra to give you delight.”
But it wouldn’t stop working.
I smiled and was perking.
I guess I’ll be in for the night.
Just my luck, hole-in-sock, from dog bite
I’ve been hosed, sew it would seam, my plight…
To hand sew, on one’s lap
Or let Singer fill the gap
Many ways to mend your ways – darn right!
“Drinks on me!”, my SHORT friend Price did say
So we all started drinking away
We drank strong shots all night
The bar tab – outta sight!
Didn’t care – since a ‘SMALL Price’ to pay!
Correction of limerick from yesterday at 12:19 PM It needed 2 parentheses
for better understanding.
I sure got in trouble last night.
With Judge Hanging, (we had a big fight)
I raised my left hand.
(I guess that is banned)
On the Bible, I then placed my right.
Wrote my book, and then something occurred.
It was dumb, it was daft and absurd.
From now on, when I write
I’ll at last see the light.
And make I won’t leave out a word.
My Drive To Work
I hated my job, got the trotts.
And then I got tied up in knots.
Fine’ly bought me some gin.
And before I went in,
I’d take about 25 shots.
I love Christmas cookies, tis true
But my scale this habit does rue
While my waistband is tight
It’s a New Year’s Eve rite
To eat every last one til I’m blue
A randy young gal named Costello
Hooked up with a like-minded fellow.
He lied that he’d write
When he left her that night.
When it comes to commitment, he’s yellow.
Okay! Now I shall try your suggestion of using more words to correct a limerick. It is an improvement of previous one.
It’s Saturday evening, you might
Feel like square dancing most of the night.
It’s that one special time,
(Maybe even a crime)
If you don’t know your left from your right.
I went to a serious meeting
Bout birds and just how they’re competing.
Are they left-wing or right?
Just watch them in flight!
The answer is “right” cause they’re tweeting.
Political Disagreement! “Who’s Right?”
(An addition to above limerick)
I went to a serious meeting
‘Bout birds and just how they’re competing.
Are they left-wing or right?
Just watch them in flight!
And you’ll notice they always are tweeting.
And then came the loud altercation!
Concerning this strange situation!
Are birds left-wing or right?
Just watch them in flight!
They seem to be all pro-migration!
“They all seem to be pro-migration” (Sorry, I got my words twisted)
I know this may sound rather trite.
Just doing what you think is right,
And wearing a laurel
Proclaiming “I’m moral”
Won’t get you to heaven. Not quite.
I never hang out with the right
And the guys on the left are a fright,
For the addlebrained middle
I don’t give a fiddle.
My views, man, are way outta sight.
I’ve had all my shots of A-Zee, –
It’s all ‘rocket surg’ry’ to me.
Could’ve given me Pfizer
I’d be none the wiser, –
Get pricked and be quick, – that’s the Key.
Innocent remark (Hubby never lies!)
Windy weather! (we ‘banged’ through the night).
I said “Guy, fix this bed, – it’s not right.”
– Told the woman next door
“…It’s our mail-box, – loose floor.
Hubby says he checked Your box, – It’s Tight!”
It had seemed to be love at first sight;
I had finally found Mr. Right!!
Then those fresh bloody stains
And those human remains
In his trunk gave me pause; I took flight.
Every March, sales of Jello increase,
As students, in search of release,
Head on down to the ocean
And – slathered in lotion –
Let loose in a Spring Break caprice
Noah, as the proverbial boatwright
Labored hard, sometimes we’ll after twilight
As they came, two-by-two
He knew just what to do…
Brought 2 lawyers for issues with birthright!
Said my wife, “It’s now time for our shots…”
Needle-nervous, my stomach in knots
Till she flashed me that grin…
Mixed some VAX with some gin
And for lunch, VA-infused tater-tots!
shot and write
I don’t sleep, I am up the whole night.
I guess I’m not really that bright.
Still can’t think of a plot.
My morale is just shot.
It takes so much time not to write.
His political drive on the wane,
Otto thought, “I’ve got caught in this lane.”
Then the young neophyte
Swerved too far to the right.
Now there’s nothing much left of his brain.
New Year’s Eve’s truly Cleve’s kind of night —
When he gawks at the box and gets tight.
His young wife must agree,
For she’ll nod solemnly,
And say into her eggnog, “Damn rite.”
Having root canals! What a delight!
Mosquitos do not really bite!
Donald Trump never lied.
The Grand Canyon’s not wide.
And Bill Gates caused this virus, yeah right.
With apologies to Edward Bulwer-Lytton…
It happened one dark, stormy night…
Gosh, that line is so hackneyed and trite.
When text really blows
It’s called “purple prose.”
Purple verse, though, is all I can write.
“A Genius Does An Amazing Calculation”
From O’Hare, I am taking a flight,
And moving to Britain tonight.
Cuz I just figured out
That without any doubt:
Over there you can pass on the right.
The Lefties were vilified sight.
Thought sinister people, a fright.
Now left-handed prominence,
Has right braining dominance.
So Lefties have minds, that are right.
(Erwin) Schrödinger with a touch of Einstein?
(A hypothetical hypothetical!)
I’ve been thinking ‘bout Schrödinger‘s Cat.
All (E) found in the box was a Hat!
Now there’s Some dude named Seuss
shooting dogs, on the loose
and with NFI where his cat’s At!
Small Towns
You’re driving, and so full of fright.
A man tries to help you that night.
“City Boy, do not wander.
Go 9 miles up yonder.
At “Hoop And A Holler”, hook right.”
Round and round I go ev-er-ry night.
I keep seeing the very same sight.
Although I am striving,
I’m still not good at driving.
All I know how to do is turn right.
The calendar did indicate
Her regular period was late.
Yes, something’s not right.
She’s at home every night,
And for years she has not had a date.
Dad and I southpaws, our plight.
Gathering family tonight.
We’ll sensibly sit,
Or the elbows hit.
Left of the righties on right.
My two year old is very bright.
At a synonym contest last night,
He said that ‘CUNCTATION’
Is ‘PROCRASTINATION’.
And the MC said: “Crikey! He’s right !”
If you suffer from cramps in the night
A banana will soon put you right.
“I’ve tried it,” said Jane,
Many times – but in vain.”
Said her friend, “If you eat it, it might.”
We’re getting our boosters today;
So omicron won’t have a say
In what we can do.
We’ll begin twenty-too
By holding that monster at bay.
All gather for dinner tonight.
My Dad and I southpaws, our plight
So, orchestrate seating,
Or elbows competing.
We’re left of the righties, that’s right.
A new era was born at the site
Of mankind’s first motorized flight;
Ahead of all others,
These two small-town brothers
Showed the world what it meant to be (W)right.
Are You in YOUR RIGHT MIND?
Are you in the mind that is right?
If so, then you must see the light.
But if you’re in the spare,
Jump right out of there.
With the right, you can then reunite.
This year, for my lunch, and my dinner.
I’m working at getting much thinner.
Will slow down the fork,
With spaghetti I torque.
A shot as a weight losing spinner.
“It’s Alright With Me” written by Cole Porter, sung by Frank Sinatra
If you feel a warm sense of delight,
The wrong place may just be the right.
If you want to forget
Someone else who you met,
It might be a heaven-sent night.
Got a job at “The Gastronome Bite”
I’m starting a week from tonight.
I must go to a forum
To learn proper decorum,
Called, “Learning To Serve Someone Right”
Routinely will wake in the night.
Rewriting a limerick right.
A gift and a curse,
To write a good verse.
Returning to sleep is a fight.
on a good night:
Returning to sleep ’til it’s light.
Mad Kane’s Humor Blog’s such a delight.
I write many lim’riks each night.
One night, set on fire,
(With my burning desire)
I sat there with one more to write.
Mama made shoo-fly pie, such delight!
Always mixed in real flies. Was that right?
But gosh! It was yummy!
A treat for the tummy!
We all flew ’round the lights ev’ry night.
Trump’s concise vision for the future.
As per yellow sticker (still) on his fridge door.
Elevate my great concept of power.
Warp speed, up the ivory tower.
Alight at top flight
Take a step to the Right
And gloat while my minions all cower.
Half asleep; half awake, half the night:
Half a Lim’rick that STILL don’t look right.
Time to rise for a brew, –
Slice of toast, perhaps two.
Add a bowl of Just Right? I just might!
The hag cast a spell in the night,
And knocked herself out like a light;
Sniffed one other witch,
“That silly old bitch–
‘Once again, she picked the wrong rite.”
Oozed the supercilious knight,
“For you, my sweet pussy, I’ll fight;”
She gagged, “You’re so crass,
‘A complete horse’s ass–
‘Get lost, and don’t bother to write.”
Researched Golf from a dodgy resource.
My apology; full of remorse.
To put my ‘wrong’ right;
The recourse to my plight?
Be contrite: it’s just par for the course.
A double duty one:
“For AR-15s I’ve the hots;
In Wisconsin I’ll fire some shots,”
Said Kyle. “My right
To shoot people tonight
Will on Fox get me great TV spots.”
More double duty:
Jewish boys of eight days face a rite
That makes men in the room all take fright.
Though they’ve drunk a few shots,
When the knife falls, they plotz,
Asking, “Why must our willies we smite?”
Covid disinformation — there’s lots —
Has the red states all tied up in knots.
I don’t wish to be crude,
But those places are screwed
With covidiots calling the shots.
“If he’s three hundred pounds and six eight
And you aren’t, then your chances aren’t great.
Best agree that he’s right –
On his side he has might.
At least, that’s how he sees it.” “Damn straight!”
Words of rhyming and timing to write
Love of Lim’ricks, of passage a rite
Play on words, set the stage
Since un-scene there’s no wage
There’s no buyer’s remorse – price is right!
My debate arguments were air tight
But my wife’s counter-points gave insight…
In my head, I confess
(Although under duress…)
I just had to admit she was right!
In pursuit of a year that’s brand new
May you chase hopes and dreams that come true
With good living your quarry
Apprehend a good story
When you finally Catch ‘22!
Though I know that I’m bright and can write,
I’m not feeling creative tonight.
But wait! Now it’s coming!
I just hear passion drumming!
“Swiss cheese, butter, milk, and some Sprite.”
Can’t make babies, my sperm count’s too slight.
But why? Something just isn’t right!
Couldn’t solve this dilemma,
Till nosy Aunt Emma
Implied that my briefs are too tight.
It’s wrong! – Right?
Good to hear our Mad’s views on ‘near-rhyme’
Plus debating each takes too much time.
No point in a fight
It’s wrong or it’s right
And right Here is where Mad draws the line!
*************
From Mad:
For those who don’t know what Terry’s referring to, here’s my limerick about “Slant Rhyme.”
Perfect Rhyme is an effort immersive,
But a problem when writing in cursive,
When my longhand just might,
Dip and slant to the right,
And I lean to (don’t mean to) subversive.
Also inspired by Mad’s “slant” on things (and hoping that “mersive” and “ersive” and “versive” are in bounds).
**********
From Mad:
They’re most definitely in bounds. (I’m not sure why you’d think I’d object to them. The last stressed syllables rhyme: mer, er and ver. And the unstressed syllable that follows mer, er and ver is in each case the identical sive. So there’s no basis at all to challenge that rhyme.)
The Key To Writing A Best- Selling Novel
If you want to pen something that’s hip,
Which will sure make your readers just flip.
The novel you write
Will be such a delight
If you leave out the parts people skip.
Haifa: 3rd. largest city in Israel
I write books about “Coming of Age”
In Haifa, they sure are the rage.
Everyone that I write
Is critiqued, “A Delight
When One Starts From The Very Last Page.”
Is This Better?
Haifa: third largest city in Israel
I write books about “Coming of Age”
In Haifa, they sure are the rage!
Everyone that I write
Is critiqued, “A Delight,
Cause It Starts At The Very Last Page.”
A lovesick young man had the hots
For a chick in her sexy coulottes;
She told him to split
But he couldn’t quit,
With a heart that was tied up in knots.
At the funeral, minister Dwight
Was real nervous and feeling uptight.
‘Twas the first one where he
Had to speak, so you see
He worked hard so he’d write the right rite.
In the tavern I go to are lots
Of abusers of liquor; they’re sots.
And just who’s in control?
It may seem rather droll
That the patrons are calling the shots.
Thought Shakespeare one midsummer night,
“What sort of a play shall I write?
Perhaps one in which Puck
Drugs young lovers to…muck
All about in the woods. Oh, yes. Quite!”
When on pot you’re as high as a kite,
It isn’t the best time to write.
You think you’re inspired,
But Mad says, “You’re fired!
Your work on my page is a blight!”
Babe Ruth with the Boston Red Sox.*
Or Gates with gazillions of stocks.
And Einstein so bright,
Mathematically right.
All Thinkers “outside of the box.”
*Ruth played for the Boston Red Sox, New York Yankees
and Atlanta Braves.
Lefties like Hendrix who rocks.
Or Greta Garbo when she talks.
There’s Twain when he writes,
Da Vinci delights.
All thinkers f the box.”
All the the people in the previous limerick
were lefties too.
whoops. Line 5 All thinkers “out of the box.”
whoops again Line 5 All thinkers “outside of the box.”
Maybe due to being left-handed?
I typed “monkey” till dawn’s early light.
My experiment proved to be right.
Can’t say it was fun,
But when I was done,
I turned into Shakespeare that night.
One word change in L5 may explain this better.
I typed “monkey” till dawn’s early light.
My experiment proved to be right.
Can’t say it was fun.
But when I was done,
I thought I was Shakespeare that night.
When it’s my turn for shots, I’m aloof.
For these scruples, I’m labeled a goof.
But I will not be plied,
Or just swallow my pride,
Till I’m sure the stuff’s one hundred proof.
When going to sleep, if it’s hot,
My “hubby” does not wear a lot
Of sleepwear in bed.
(Even kicks off the spread)
And his nightcap is then a cool shot.
They recited a blessing each night,
With incense and wine to delight.
But their spells were more Dickens
Than Druid’s or Wiccan’s.
Slim pickins. The rite wasn’t right.
It’s too bad that the guy had to die
From drinking too much of that rye.
Alas, what a shame,
But the rules of the game
Were a shot for each Trumpian lie.
In German “mein Schatz” means “my treasure” –
a sweetheart beyond any measure.
But an American miss
may take umbrage at this;
being called “Shots” will bring her no pleasure!
Anti-vaxxers refusing a shot
Claim “There’s micro-chips in it!” So what?
You shouldn’t complain –
An electronic brain
Would be more than you’ve actually got.
This limerick started all right,
Both the rhyming and meter were tight,
It continued just fine,
But began to decline,
And the last line went unbelievably, terribly, awfully wrong.
Those criminals on the Far Right
Are passing new laws day and night.
“Screw Democrat voters!
We’ll choose our own Potus!”
Democracy’s death is in sight.
Tweaked version;
This limerick started all right,
Both the rhyming and meter were tight.
It continued just fine
To the very last line,
And then went unbelievably, terribly, awfully wrong.
Infiltrating the spys and their plots,-
‘got the hots for those foreign hot shots.
Molly mastered their tongue, –
found that most were well hung;
Polyamorous, perverse Polyglots.
An obstructionist ended the night,
When he got the last word in a fight.
“I’m agreeing,” said he,
To say we disagree.
But that won’t make me any less right.”
“The Left-Handed Unemployed Beautician”
Sure had a loose grip on those clippers.
Got fired from “World’s Greatest Snippers”
I could not cut it right,
Cause my left had the might.
My boss said, “Ain’t no left-hand shippers.”
She had little money for fashion,
Forcing her to save and then ration;
Her financial low spots
Decreed “polka dots,”
A style that was never her passion.
A lovesick young man had the hots
For a chick in her sexy coulottes;
She told him to split,
But he couldn’t quit,
With a heart that was tied up in knots.
He gave us, in dozens of plots,
Not just a few laughs, but lots;
His on-camera life
Of TV’s Barney Fife,
Was really a gift from Don Knotts.
There’s a famous phrase – “God and my right”.
Kings think it confers legal might.
And in French I know that
It is “Dew ate mon drat”.
[Which is true – tho’ my accent is shight.]
In a dream, I once conjured a stark rite,
Which included a knife and an arkwright.
He was carving a chest,
Simply keeping abreast
Of his craft. Still, this dream’s pretty dark, right?
I was musing on something last night.
Though dark, I could still see the light.
If you do something wrong,
Can just string along,
Knowing wrong is still wrong, am I right?
Oops! I missed a word: “you”
I was musing on something last night.
Though dark, I could still see the light.
If you do something wrong,
Can you just string along?
Knowing wrong is still wrong. Am I right?
Mr. and Mrs. Mr. tells his side:
Sue, why is there always a fight?
The same discourse takes place each night!
I never am wrong!
Now follow along:
I’m just different levels of RIGHT.
Well, ya see Boss:
I gave him the wrong change last night.
And then out of nowhere: a fight!
He sprayed me with mace,
Then stepped on my face.
Is the customer still always right?
Enrolled, but of course, I’m a fake.
Astrophysics is hard, it’s opaque.
But students were right,
This professor so bright.
I love intellectual beefcake.
My God! You are going to pot.
Your belly is huge. Don’t say: “Not”.
And you can not disguise
Your dim blood-shot eyes.
And where is your hair, sir? Say what?
One night, it was quite on a lark,
He was cruising in dark Central Park.
And you can be sure
That he found true amour.
That was truly a shot in the dark.
Hey Mad,
Steve Sondheim did once rhyme “liaisons”
With the only near-rhyming word “raisins”.
But who’d say: “You can’t
Use a rhyme that’s aslant
In your shows or on other occasions.”?
(As I did here.)
The show was “A Little Night Music”
*********
From Mad:
Song writers can get away with a lot more than limerick writers can, especially FAMOUS song writers.
GPS: What would we do without it?
Poor Bill’s being buried tonight.
Let’s rush to the car and find “Hite”
(His wife’s so bereft)
Oh Honey! Turn left!
Go straight, and then take the last rite.
Doctor Fauci says, “Go get your shots,”
But some dummies believe them ersatz.
Between their poor ears
Such irrational fears
Give them trouble connecting the dots.
To Rudy Landesman, outside of the current prompts:
With “liaison” and “raisin” in song,
The music takes listeners along.
But in limerick verse,
Might as well call a hearse;
Inconsistent vowel sounds just sound wrong.
Though I’m clear it’s a shot in the dark,
I still bed dear old Fred for a lark.
Once I’m sure there’s a bulge,
I cry, “Time to indulge!”
Then he pours me a neat Cutty Sark.
I saw Bill at “The Northeastern Brook”
He then gave me a violent right hook.
Bill knows that I write.
We will soon reunite:
He’ll be whacked in my very next book.
From sunrise to sunset, I write.
My artistry’s reached a new height.
Strangely, people are home.
They no longer roam.
I don’t get why they call it a “plight”
“Which Opinion Shall We Watch Tonight?”
Many shows have quite differing views.
People always know which they will choose.
Whether left wing or right,
Both factions excite.
I’m so old, I remember “The News”
They partied one night, – got the hots.
He fired up in bed, – had two shots!
Jump nine months and a bit, –
“Here’s a writ, – you big shit,
You done left me, alone with two tots”.
Seems some folks are afraid to talk
The very idea tends to nake them balk.
So out of sheer fright
they will only write.
And at the first sound they will walk.
Family Fueds – A Lieography (or Pardon My Hubris) ~
(This story may be based on actual events. To protect the innocent, the words, but not the names, have been changed.)
When Mark read what Mad said, he said “Right,
but I’d much rather have peace tonight.
She’ll write what she will—
it’s a rite I can’t kill—
so I’ll shut up and give up this fight.”
You take up your pen and start to write.
Well, you certainly have that right.
But if it’s of wrong
Don’t sing that song!
Or politics, nothing far left or right.
Religion can make people calm.
We feel peace when reciting a psalm.
Though we know it is right,
There’s a verse called “Delight”
Which means Blasphemy Night Of The Prom.
The right to bear arms? In hindsight, –
a wrong rite that’s enabled such plight.
Don’t need shots for a fight
The pen wields the might.
Drop your gun, – grab a pen, – learn to write.
What Our Country Is All About. Yeah!
Making coffee is sure not bewitch’in.
But now I’ll no longer be bitch’in.
Shall I make dark or light?
Are 4 scoops just right?
A Starbucks is now in my kitchen!
There’s a Starbucks alongside that light.
And another one also in sight.
The world is at rest.
Not a soul is depressed.
Frappuccino has made the world right.
(Here in Chicago there are 2 of them in the SAME building)
Two Changes From “Starbucks” Limerick: Line5 (set and Earth)
There’s a Starbucks alongside that light.
And another one also in sight.
The world is at rest.
Not one soul is depressed.
Frappuccino has set the Earth right.
Novak Djokovic, agile and tall,
Plays great shots with a racket and ball,
But there’s one kind of shot
That he still hasn’t got,
Because Novak’s had no vax at all.
He did not really reach any heights
And got into too many fights
With publishers, editors
(And other such predators)
And now they’ve all read the last writes …
Anti-vaxers – convinced of those plots
To inject us with digital dots –
Euthanasia pills
To pay Government bills.
And they think they are calling the shots!
Adroit?
“Lefty loosey”? (the seal is too strong);
“Righty tighty”? (it’s taking too long!);
Now I’m left twisting right —
They have jarred me for spite!
(I’ll get right with this, don’t get me wrong).
The Donald Speaks: 1990 Atlantic City
I must say, “I was really in shock,
When I noticed a very big lock.
With all of my might,
Guess I just wasn’t right.
But why am I banned from “Hard Rock?”
I’ll miss them; they surely are nice.
A small strip of ice won’t suffice.
Are the Polar Bears right?
When they say they sense fright?
Seems they’re skating on very thin ice.
My new boyfriend is simply divine.
He’s handsome, and sexy and fine.
For me, he’s just right.
He sure does excite.
And his name is I Love You Online.
Attention all Limerick-Off Stragglers: The current Limerick-Off ends tomorrow, Saturday, at 4 pm (Eastern time.) So please get your limerick stragglers in.
It’s easy as easy can be.
A great strategy; listen to me:
2 wrongs don’t make right.
But wrong’s a delight.
So remember to always do 3.
Memory from my actual job at H.P. Pediatrics
Some mem’ries I just can’t erase.
Kinda fuuny, but always the case:
While those cute little tots
Were getting their shots,
They made that “You’re Killing Me” face.
The last time I went to my shrink,
He said, “Gertrude, you need to rethink!
“You MUST get that shot”
But then I did not,
When I found out it wasn’t a drink.
Mad, please delete Jan 7th, 9.53am. Thanks.
Soon the former guy’s mind, – Somewhat bent,
Will be using TRUTH Social to vent
Shots of rhetoric bold.
Stilll out in the Cold:
The whimper of our discontent.
She mixes up left from her right.
Discovered that fact just tonight.
Because of that glitch,
I found her in ditch.
GPS and my friend had a fight.
The Covid Shot For People Who Refuse To Get One
A new shot’s come out, (it’s a trick)
For people as dumb as a brick.
It’s the one we all need.
And the experts agreed
Let’s call it “We’ll Never Get Sick.”
“At Biden I’ll keep taking shots,
For losing to him really rots,”
Said Donald. “No riot
Occurred – I don’t buy it.”
Methinks that his brain’s full of clots.
“I depend on my muse to indite.
If she doesn’t play ball, it’s dark night.
Once, she wouldn’t play nice,
So, I tried sacrifice.
Now she wants it each time – it’s her rite.”
If you’ve might on your side, you are right,
And you can, with impunity, smite.
You are calling the shots.
You can crush the have-nots,
But you dare not sleep tight every night.
Said Madeleine, “Steve, what you write
Keeps me laughing all day and all night.
Every week you should win,
But I drink too much gin,
And when judging, I’m high as a kite.”
Elmer Fudd sang in Shanghai one night —
Karaoked (his last civil right).
Took one shot at a song
with “If wuvving you’s wong,
Then (it’s twue) I don’t want to be wight.”
Thanks so much everyone for another fun two weeks of limericks. This Limerick-Off is officially over. And the winner is…
Limerick-Off Award 486 . Congratulations to the winners!
But you can still have lots of limerick fun because a new Limerick-Off has just begun: Limerick-Off Bold.