It’s “Send Your Man Nudes Day.” Oy Vey!
Will I celebrate THAT one? No way!
I’m too old for that stuff,
So no pics in the buff!
I’ll forgo risking cyber-display.
Send Your Man Nudes Day falls on April 22 each year.
It’s “Send Your Man Nudes Day.” Oy Vey!
Will I celebrate THAT one? No way!
I’m too old for that stuff,
So no pics in the buff!
I’ll forgo risking cyber-display.
Send Your Man Nudes Day falls on April 22 each year.
I concede this sounds rather insane,
But I found my true love on a train;
Not a club, not a bar,
But the LIRR
Changed my life — gave me Mark Gary Kane.
*****
Mark: I’m sorry I’m so nasty to you.
Madeleine: I’m sorry you’re so nasty to me too.
Mark: At least we can agree on SOMETHING.
*****
Mark: We make a great team!
Madeleine: Why?
Mark: We complement each other well.
Madeleine: Thanks for the compliment!
*****
Mark: “You have to hear how this [random scientific innovation] works!”
Me: “You know your techie explanations always hurt my head.”
Mark: “Can’t you at least pretend to listen?”
Me: “How convincingly do I have to pretend?”
*****
Mark: Have you ever heard “Alice’s Restaurant?”
Madeleine: Yes.
Mark. Many people have a tradition of listening to it every Thanksgiving.
Madeleine: I too have a tradition…
Mark: Great!
Madeleine: …of avoiding it.
*****
#LifeWithMarkAndMadeleine #LifeWithMadeleineAndMark
I’m a rhymer, a limerick drafter,
A chronic light-poetry crafter.
I’ve been labeled a “card,”
And called “daft,” but not “bard.”
What’s my target? Grins, giggles, and laughter.
This is how my brother Arthur’s birthday began today, translated by me into a 3-verse limerick:
Loud sounds woke you up with a fright.
Did a drummer come visit at night?
Seems your exercise pool
Somehow drained. A mere drool
Of water is left. What a sight!
Even worse, it has emptied indoors,
And that noise is your pump at its chores.
Now you MUST figure out
How to stop it without
A bad shock. When it rains, it sure pours.
I’m so sorry your birthday began
In a manner you never would plan.
Happy birthday, dear bro!
I wrote this to show
There’s a way to make home mishaps scan.
Happy birthday, Arthur!
Hubby Mark savors films that are sappy,
And what’s crappy to ME makes him happy.
He’ll be glued to the screen
At the mushiest scene,
While I mentally keen, “Make it snappy!”
Happy “meeting anniversary” to my wonderful husband Mark. (April 20, 1977, aboard the LIRR)
Dear Long Island Rail Road, my debt
To your system, I’ll never forget.
Back in Seventy-Seven
Your train car was heaven:
‘Twas the place where my spouse and I met.
(More epistolary poems here.)
UPDATE: Someone on Facebook asked for more details about our meeting on the train. Here’s what I wrote:
Re your questions, for some odd reason (possibly love at first sight, which I don’t even believe in) I did something very uncharacteristic of me when I saw Mark come bopping up the train’s aisle: I smiled and gave him “the eye.” He just looked so handsome and cute, and I liked his eyes and willed him to sit across from me. (It was the end of a long, tiring day — a full day of law school, followed by a trip into Manhattan for a symphony orchestra rehearsal. And I was feeling both exhausted and hyper.)
Anyway, Mark smiled back and then, much to my chagrin, he kept on bopping past me and past lots of empty seats and went into the next train car.
I figured I’d never see him again and then, suddenly, Mark returned to my car, walked past the empty seats again, and sat across from me. His first words to me were: “Boy, you look tired!” Which provoked a monologue by me about everything I’d done that day, followed by a monologue by him detailing his rather full day.
Seven weeks later, we were engaged.
My come-hither look
was all that it took.
Mark at first tried to book,
but returned … on the hook.
As Mark likes to say, true story:
Mark spots me, already seated, while he’s walking through a half-empty Long Island Rail Road car. I smile at him. He smiles at me. And then, instead of sitting across from me, Mark keeps walking and goes into another half-empty train car.
A couple of minutes later he rethinks this, turns around, comes back, and sits across from me.
Seven weeks later Mark proposes, and I say yes, wondering what took him so long.
(All this happened way back in 1977.)
A wonderful poet, Daniel Ari, honored me with his invitation to participate in the Virtual Blog Tour. And if you’re not familiar with Daniel’s poetry, you owe it to yourself to pay his blog and his blog tour post a visit. Actually … many visits.
Wait. Where are you going? I didn’t mean for you to visit him right this very minute. You have to at least pretend to read my post first.
Okay, now that I’ve recaptured your attention, I should probably explain the concept behind the Virtual Blog Tour. As best as I can figure out, it’s a method of introducing our readers to other bloggers we admire. Every participant answers the same quartet of questions about his/her writing process. And, in theory at least, we all gain some new readers.
So, on to Question 1: What am I working on?
In theory, I’m pulling together three different humor books: a limerick collection, a humor column collection, and a third book that’s so hard to describe, it’s unlikely to ever happen.
Aside from my books-in-progress, I write tons of limericks every week. Okay, maybe not tons, but A LOT! I also write light verse in other forms, even sneaking humor into haiku. (Of course when I write funny haiku, I get yelled at for not calling them senryu.)
Additionally, I spend a good chunk of time running a weekly limerick contest: Mad Kane’s Limerick-Offs. You can always find the current contest here and the most recent winners here. (Everyone’s welcome to participate both here on my blog and on my Facebook page.)
Question 2: How does my work differ from others of its genre?
Well, for one thing, it’s written by an oboist turned lawyer turned humor writer. And for another, I stretch the boundaries of limericks by writing them about every topic imaginable: marriage, politics, taxes, death, petty aggravations, serious problems, etc., in a tone which varies from bawdy to satirical to serious, to silly — frequently writing multi-verse limericks. And if I want to be extra hard on myself, I sometimes even attempt acrostic limericks.
By the way, although I post most of my limericks on this blog, I have a second blog reserved for political limericks. Why a separate Political Madness Blog? Because many readers who enjoy this blog, hate my politics. Separate blogs help limit the bloodshed.
Question 3: Why do I write what I do?
Like most writers, I write what I write because I have to. There was a period when I had to write humor columns. Next there was a period when I had to write a satirical George W. Bush diary and political song parodies. And right now I seem to be in my have-to-write-limericks period.
(There was also a 14 year period when I had to write legal briefs. But trust me, you don’t want to hear about that.)
Question 4: How does my writing process work?
I’m always writing limericks — often at inconvenient times, like while showering … or sleeping. Unfortunately I have an awful memory, and can’t trust myself to remember anything. So jotting down ideas immediately is key. Deciphering those notes? Another matter altogether.
While much of my limerick inspiration seems to arrive out of the blue, I’m always actively on the hunt for limerick ideas. I make a point of doing lots of daily news reading, headline scanning, and visiting “what’s trending now” on Twitter, Facebook, and sundry search engines.
I read several political sites a day in my quest for politicians to mock and political issues to have fun with. I also check out several sites specializing in oddball news items, as well as Salon, Slate, Huffington Post, and other possible sources of quirky news items that might inspire me. (Dave Barry’s blog is an unusually good source of such items.)
Limerick inspiration often comes from stories about silly lawsuits, oddball inventions, strange holidays, and weird trends.
Family members, especially my husband Mark, can be a constant source of humor inspiration. (Fortunately Mark enjoys being the subject of limericks and humor columns.)
If I’m really lucky, a limerick just comes to me whole cloth. When that happens, it’s just a matter of writing it down and doing a quick edit. But other limericks present more of a challenge, especially when it comes to news-oriented and political limericks, where I have to pack a lot of info into the limerick and still follow the rules and make readers laugh. (Speaking of rules, you can find my article on how to write limericks here.)
I often start with a single line — either the first line or the last. And in framing that line I usually try to end it with a word that has lots of rhymes. After all, the more rhyme word choices I have, the better the odds of my managing to polish off an amusing limerick.
What happens when I can’t make a limerick work? I add it to an ever-growing digital document jam-packed with hundreds of limericks (and partial limericks) I can’t bear to give up on. And often, months later, I manage to rescue some of them. On the other hand, many have been languishing in that file for years, taunting me to fix or delete the damn things.
I should probably mention some tools I find handy: Rhymezone, while far from perfect, can be very useful. The Syllable Dictionary is helpful as well. And then there’s the wonderful Memidex Dictionary which, among other things, has an excellent audio component. I can’t imagine how I ever survived without it.
*****
So that’s it for my answers to the Virtual Blog Tour questions. At this point, I’m supposed to recommend three other poet bloggers who promise to answer the same four questions. But alas, everyone I invited (1) had already participated in this tour; (2) didn’t feel they had the time to commit to the tour; or (3) didn’t feel they could persuade three other poet bloggers to participate.
However, if you’re still hungering to be introduced to other limerick writers, please do check out my weekly Limerick of the Week Posts. While, most of the weekly winners don’t blog, they’re a funny group of limerick writers you’re sure to enjoy.
A birthday limerick for my wonderful husband Mark, who turns an undisclosed age today:
Happy birthday, dear hubby — you’re old,
Although younger than I, truth be told.
No need for debate —
There is NO better mate.
So how do I know this? I polled.
(All dialogue guaranteed true)
Mark: “Now that I’ve won, I can go to sleep.” (gazing down, admiringly, at his laptop’s “free cell” screen at 10 pm)
Me: “Remember that Walter Kirn book I mentioned the other day?”
Mark: “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” (still looking down)
Me: “The one about the impostor…”
Mark: “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” (still looking down)
Me: “I just started reading it.”
Mark: “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” (still looking down)
Me: “You’re not listening to me.”
Mark: “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” (still looking down)
Me: “I said you’re not listening to me!”
Mark: “Huh??? Yes, I am.”
Me: “What am I talking about?”
Mark: “Uh…”
Me: “Remember? The Kirn book? I was telling you about it the other day.”
Mark: “Oh yeah.” (surreptitiously typing.)
Me: “You’re looking up “Kirn” in Google aren’t you?”
Mark: “Of course not! I remember you talking about Bruce Kern.”
Me: “I’ve never even heard of Bruce Kern. Stop trying to cheat with Google.”
Mark: “I’m not trying to cheat.”
Me: “Yes you are. I’m talking about WALTER Kirn’s book about the Rockefeller impostor.”
Mark: “Oh, yeah. Jay Rockefeller and the Hamptons.”
Me: “No! “CLARK Rockefeller. Driving a crippled dog from Montana to Manhattan.”
Mark: “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”
Me: “I give up!”
A few minutes ago, I announced the 104th Limerick of the Week. And that means it’s anniversary time at Mad Kane’s Limerick-Offs.
The Limerick of the Week Awards started as an experiment nearly two years ago in March 2011. Of course, I had been informally posting limerick prompts for years before that. But it was on March 13, 2011 that I decided to get organized and start picking weekly winners. Here’s what I wrote.
But I’m trying something a bit different this time: One of your limericks will be anointed Limerick Of The Week.
As you can see, my experiment took, and next week I’ll be awarding the first Limerick of the Week for Year 3. So congratulations to all of you and thanks so much for helping to make this limerick competition such a success.
Oh … and in case you’re wondering who our first Limerick of the Week Winner was, it was our very own Phyllis Sterling Smith a/k/a Granny Smith. You can read her clever winning limerick here, along with delightful Honorable Mention limericks from David Lefkovits a/k/a Dr. Goose, Versebender, and co-writers (not to mention married couple) Catherine Palmer and Ron Mardix.
In light of our 2nd Limerick of the Week Anniversary, I’m offering you an alternative: In addition to your regular challenge, you may write a limerick related to any kind of anniversary, using any first line. Next week I’ll present an extra award — one for the best anniversary-related limerick.
And now, getting back to the business at hand, it’s Limerick-Off time, once again. And that means I write a limerick, and you write your own, using the same first line. Then you post your limerick here and, if you’re a Facebook user, on Facebook too.
The best submission will be crowned Limerick Of The Week. (Here’s last week’s Limerick Of The Week Winner.)
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 Limerick of the Week Winner next Sunday, right before I post next week’s Limerick-Off. So that gives you a full week to submit your clever, polished verse. Your submission deadline is Saturday at 11:59 p.m. (Eastern Time.)
I hope you’ll join me in writing a limerick with this first line:
A fellow who wanted a raise…*
or
A woman who wanted a raise…*
or
A fellow was catching some rays…*
or
A woman was catching some rays…*
(Please note that minor variations to my first lines are acceptable. However, rhyme words may not be altered, except by using homonyms or homophones.)
Here’s my limerick:
Limerick Rays
By Madeleine Begun Kane
A man had been catching some rays,
Lazing lakeside — he’d done it for days,
While his wife hid inside:
“Sun is bad for your hide,
And besides, wasted time never pays.”
Please feel free to write your own limerick using the same first line and post it 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!
I was honored to be interviewed as part of Poets United “Life of a Poet” series. It’s fairly comprehensive and includes some fun photos and limericks. So if you’d like to know some of my deep, dark secrets, here it is. :)
My big thanks to Poets United and especially to my interviewer Sherry Blue Sky. She did a great job!
Whether it’s an Irish pub, a packed rock & roll bar, or a ballroom dance floor filled with Big Band Era seniors, hubby Mark and I will probably dance. Not well, mind you, but with great energy and enthusiasm.
We often attract attention and even compliments, accompanied undoubtedly by such thought balloons as “How do people that old dance so fast?” Or “I’m pretty sure my grandma can’t do that.” Or “What the hell is that woman doing on the men’s side of my synagogue?”
In case you’re wondering, yes we know we’re probably making a spectacle of ourselves. But we’re having fun and we simply don’t care.
Tomorrow, April 29th, is International Dance Day. So Happy International Dance Day, everyone! Here’s my latest limerick:
A Couple On The Move
By Madeleine Begun Kane
When my husband and I try to dance,
Some enjoy us and some look askance.
We’re inept, but enthused,
And don’t have to be boozed
To have rumba-like fun — that’s our stance.
You might also enjoy my We Don’t Think We Can Dance, But We Do It Anyway.
Though I’m never safe,
his arms always comfort me,
and that must suffice.
*****
Ballroom dancing class—
learning creative ways to
defeat the rumba.
*****
Morning legs dangle
off the bed, as antique joints
brace for their touch down.
*****
Feeling elated—
great, yet dampened by knowing
what’s soon to follow.
*****
Poised atop mirage
of a career, gazing down
at life left behind.
*****
(I wrote the 1st haiku for We Write Poems’ safe prompt; the 4th haiku for Sensational Haiku Wednesday’s elation prompt; and the 5th haiku for One Single Impression’s top prompt and Haiku Heights’ mirage prompt.)
Poetry prompts can serve up everything from fun inspiration to unsettling memories. For instance, the shadows prompt courtesy of Poets United Thursday Think Tank brought back a wistful early childhood memory of my late father Ernest Begun and Robert Louis Stevenson’s A Child’s Garden of Verses. More specifically, the two of us reciting my favorite childhood poem, My Shadow.
I’m certain that the many hours we spent poring over that Stevenson volume had lots to do with my own versifying. And so, this haiku:
Robert Stevenson’s
I have a little shadow…
My dad’s knee at three.