Limerick-Off Monday – Rhyme Word: SUIT/PURSUIT at the end of any one line (Submission Deadline: October 24, 2020 )
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 SUIT/PURSUIT 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 NEIGHBORS, using any rhyme word. And of course I’ll present an extra award — one for the best NEIGHBOR-related limerick.
How will your poems be judged? By meter, rhyme, cleverness, and humor. (If you’re feeling a bit fuzzy about limerick writing rules, here’s my How To Write A Limerick article.)
I’ll announce the winners on October 25, 2020, 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, October 24, 2020 at 4:00 p.m. (Eastern Time.)
Here’s my SUIT/PURSUIT-rhyme limerick:
I’m fazed by my ex’s new phase:
He’ll stare at a puzzle for days.
It’s a puzzling pursuit
For a scatter-brained brute…
Though he DOES do it sprawled on a chaise.
And here’s my two-verse NEIGHBORS-themed limerick:
I was playing a Beethoven piece,
When a neighbor upstairs called the p’lice.
“She’s too loud. I can’t sleep,”
She complained. “I could weep.
She is breaching the peace. Make her cease!”“It’s an odd time to sleep,” said the cop.
“You can hardly expect her to stop
Playing piano so soon.
It is mid-afternoon…
And be grateful she ain’t playing pop.”
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: Beethoven Humor, Competition Limerick, Limerick Challenge, Limerick Contest, Music Limerick, Neighbors Humor, Piano Humor, Poetry & Prompts, Police Humor, Police Limerick, Sleep & Insomnia Humor, Sleeplessness, Writing Prompts
I went to the men’s clothing stores
To replace the dress-ups I had wore.
You see, my old suit
Fit not my patoot
And split so you could see my drawers.
A climber, in bed in Argyle,
Once heard his girl say, with a smile,
“It really would suit,
If you’d take off each boot;
I’m afraid that they’re crampon your style.”
The triplet heirs were baseball fans to boot
They needed help with their legal dispute
Their lawyer was top rank. He
Was a former New York Yankee
And thus he filed a three piece pinstriped suit.
Sev’ral officers joined the pursuit
Of a man they described as, “Hirsute.”
He’d been glimpsed, in the park,
Chasing girls after dark,
One of whom said, “I thought he was cute.”
Long after our water was poured
the waiter appeared, looking bored.
“I can tell by your suit
the specials are moot;
there’s nothing that you could afford.”
There once was a jolly old fart
Whose fashions were state of the art
He had enough loot
To buy any suit
But he bought his clothes from Kmart.
Described as hirsute but not cute,
he had just robbed a bank in a suit.
A policeman named Gough,
very quickly took off
In pursuit of hirsute with the loot!
An English route is From there to Here.
“Root” in U.S. is Cheer or a Beer.
A “Whistle & Flute”
in London’s your Suit,
but in Oz “root” is sex with a peer.
“They call me a crook and a brute,
But it seems that they don’t give a hoot
For Obama’s great crime –
The guy should do time
For wearing that tan-coloured suit!”
Denzel strode in and unzipped his suit,
Held his manhood at ready to shoot.
Doctor looked, “Well, what’s wrong?”
Denzel smiled at his dong;
“Not a thing, Doc, I think it’s a beaut’!”
Twof’
Make your neighbours think, “Man of repute!”
At all times wear your whistle and flute.
Be it night-time or day,
Should they happen your way,
Set the tone and they’ll all follow suit.
There once was a woman from Butte
whose shaved head a suitor thought cute
until she undressed
and he found all the rest
of her body completely hirsute.
Said the serpent to Woman, “Dispute
what you’ve heard of the forbidden fruit.”
She ate then stood staring
at what Man wasn’t wearing,
so excited he dared follow suit.
Wrote a limerick ’bout my favourite fruit,
and got stuck for a word that would suit.
It drove me insane,
as I laboured in vain,
but no word I could find rhymed with Orange!
When my neighbour drank all his wife’s gin
his chance of survival was thin.
She diced up the fool
with a very sharp tool,
but he still wouldn’t fit in the bin!
My neighbour, old hag Elise Grable
sold dodgy furs bred in her stable.
She lost any merit,
when she crossed her pet ferret
with a beautiful Mink and prized Sable.
A thief at Lim’rick Institute
made off with the lim’rickers’ fruit.
Tho the thief dressed in orange,
he was not found by four eng-
ineers who took up the pursuit.
‘Twas the ugliest baby I’d seen
But I can’t bring myself to be mean
So in a neighborly way
I just heard myself say
“Wow! THAT is a baby—I MEAN!”
*****
He stands ramrod-straight, sober, mute
But don’t fool yourself, he’s in pursuit
Of potentials to line up—
Yep, here’s where you sign up–
And, voila,you’re a soldier, recruit!
*****
‘Twas the wrinkliest baby I’d seen
But I can’t bring myself to be mean!
So in a neighborly way
I just heard myself say–
“My goodness! She looks like a Queen!”
*****
My neighbour popped ‘round for a chat,
– saw the Hole, near where I sadly sat.
(me)“My dead Fish – I will miss”
(him)“- big hole for a fish!?”
I said “That’s ‘cos it’s inside your cat!
The cops inquired, “Are you aware
you’ve got slashes and blood on your chair?”
Said I, “My old sabre
I loaned to my neighbor.
Check with him as to how this got there.”
We turn up our music real loud.
Our dancing is great; makes us proud.
The new neighbor knocked;
Prob’ly loved how we rocked.
Guess he asked all those cops, “Join the crowd!!).
“My neighbor shows little regard
when she sunbathes in her own backyard”
Sammy said, “Her swimsuit
is come-hither minute.
I ignore her. But man, is it hard!”
My neighbor screamed out, with a boom,
“You kids better go get that broom”
I got so freaked out
From her ear-splitting shout
That I started to clean my own room.
I am looking for someone who’s cute.
I don’t care if he’s nice or astute.
Yet my mom knows a lot
And she says, I should not
Be consumed with this triv’yal pursuit.
I am looking for someone who’s cute.
I don’t care if he’s nice or astute.
Yet my mom knows a lot
And she says, I should not
Be consumed with this triv’yal pursuit.
To make neighbours think, “Man of repute!”
At all times wear your whistle and flute.
Be it night-time or day,
Should they happen your way,
You’re the tone setter, they’ll follow suit.
Makes better sense.
There are some things I never depute,
Like selecting my ties, or my route.
Delegation is fine,
But I choose my own wine,
And take care of my natal day suit.
I grumped to the fence, feeling blue.
“Hello, neighbor,” I heard. “How are you?”
Although I’d not asked,
I could see he was masked.
Good ol’ Wilson. He always comes through.
“The suits that men like,” declared Jeanie
“Do not have a price that is teeny.
Most men will say, ‘Shoot,
The best two piece suit
Of all has to be a bikini.'”
Recent sightings of flashers in herds
Have left spokespersons struggling for words.
“It is clear these pursuits …”
“… That they’re all in cahoots …”
“I can’t comment; I’m here to watch birds.”
An ascetic made clothing from jute;
Underwear, socks and shirts, and his suit.
How they felt we can’t know –
Though, the hermit did glow –
For on this, as on all things, he’s mute.
Youthful minstrel, abroad with his lute,
‘Spies a lovely young maid in her ‘suit’.
Taken quite unaware
The young maid meets his stare,
And then plays him an air on the flute.
“All these pics of Suzanne in her ‘suit’,
It’s a slam dunk, no way to refute.
Why not vary the snaps?”
“I’m not like other chaps –
And my taste leans towards riper fruit.”
“All these pics of Suzanne in her ‘suit’,
You’re a connoisseur, there’s no dispute.
But variety – girls?”
“Younger flesh is for churls,
And my tastes lean toward riper fruit.”
I want to give of my best, so I shall continue to try and improve this one – out of respect for my subject. LOL
When young, I must say, I was cute.
I was all of the boys main pursuit.
Now I hardly can see.
All my teeth total three.
And most of the day I toot toot.
I thought I would cut a small poot –
Just brief, sneaky, barely a toot.
But, dammit to hell,
The unholy smell
Has got me involved in a suit.
o|-<~~~~~
“All these pics of Suzanne in her ‘suit’,
You’re a connoisseur, there’s no dispute.
But variety – girls?”
“Younger flesh is for churls;
Those with taste much prefer riper fruit.”
I think I’m there.
A thought that has just come to pass,
Is I covet my good neighbour’s ass.
To covet her donkey
would be far to shonky
It’s her rear I revere, is that crass?
*******
I’m deleting lines bawdy but beautiful,
just to keep Mad Kane’s blog page reputable.
It’s a boring pursuit
for words that best suit
all the prudes who complain they’re not suitable.
*****
The medieval bride looked so cute
In her floating diaphanous suit.
But a minstrel they hired
soon had to be fired
for flooring a guest with his lute!
My neighbor’s new boyfriend’s a god!
He’s got an incredible bod!
We never have met
in person, and yet
I’m certain his first name is “TODD!!!”
“In my youth, I was,” sigh, “dissolute;
Wine and women my constant pursuit.
Times have changed: my new thing –
Yes, you’ve guessed – I now sing
And the songs are all bawdy to boot.”
At the Naturists’ Ball, when you dance,
The last thing on your mind is romance.
You must be resolute
That no sign of your suit
Will intrude, by design, or by chance.
“As a naturist, my only gripe,
Is the wrinkles. Though not overripe –
I’m no prune – but the ‘suit’
Is quite creased, my old fruit,
And the suntan has got the odd stripe.”
“Does the plaintiff insist on her suit?”
“Yes, My Lord. She is quite resolute.”
“Very well, let’s proceed.
You have all that you need.”
“With your Lordship’s indulgence, that’s moot.”
“Are you saying you haven’t? Explain!”
“How to phrase it, your Lordship? The strain
On Ms Heymann to date,
And Ms Dragon, her mate,
You can see for yourself, it’s quite plain.”
“Yes, I see; yes, indeed; what to do?
Bailiff! Turn up the heating for two.
If you’ll take my advice –
Try to find something nice –
I would have them get dressed, were I you.”
“All these pics of Suzanne in her ‘suit’;
You’re an aesthete, but are you astute?
No variety – girls?”
“Younger flesh is for churls;
Those with taste much prefer riper fruit.”
My bad, I was wrong.
“They say it’s a hopeless pursuit,
And that Joe’s gonna give me the boot.
But I don’t plan to leave –
If I lose, then believe
Me, my Proud Boys are ready to shoot.”
A producer of clothes got a fine –
His receipts and sales didn’t align!
The tax man’s in pursuit
And the fine is per suit –
That’ll slim down his fat bottom line!
My neighbor emits quite a din
From the next-door apartment she’s in.
With her boyfriend, Big Rod,
She cries out to her God.
How I wish that the walls weren’t so thin!
Our Donald cannot choose his suit.
From clubs, diamonds, hearts, spades – that’s the loot.
He looks really hard
For the fifty third card
As the joker’s his favorite pursuit.
At The White House there’s just not a neighbor
Who is able to hear Donald’s tabor
He stands in the sun
As he bangs it for fun
Till his wife shuts him up with her caber.
Ev’ry Halloween, I can’t relax,
Cuz my neighbor refuses me snacks.
This year, late at night
I will give them a fright,
And dress up as “Property Tax”.
Wicked bad naughty evil Zoot
had Galahad checked under his suit.
For his peril, to thank her
Dingo ruled he must spank her
and after all spankings, oral [mute].
a slightly modified limerick, posted yesterday (better)
We turn up the music real loud.
Our dancing sure makes us so proud.
The new neighbor knocked;
Must’ve loved how we rocked.
And we told all those cops, “Join the crowd”.
My neighbor (a snoot and a snoop)
Parks herself, every day, on the stoop
Of her spic and span house
And proceeds, then, to grouse
About all of the dogs she sees poop.
Of my skills there ranked no substitute
leaping high flips to lead the crowd root.
I felt oh so delighted
til my base dude confided
“You’ve a rip in your cheerleader’s suit.”
Trump’s case for immunity’s moot.
The virus is still in pursuit
and just like a snail,
he’s leaving a trail
of those sick from licking his boot.
Our country is run by old codgers
raised next door to Mr Rogers,
but forgot all they learned
thus from neighbors have turned
into landlords. We’re only their lodgers.
Reality check – or should tht be cheque?
“It’s far wiser to settle than sue;
There are no guarantees, you may rue.
If you must press your suit,
Wear your whistle and flute,
And pay fees and expenses on cue.”
Escalating a heated dispute
With a knee in the nuts may confute
For a moment; but pause;
Can you argue just cause?
No, I thought not; abandon your suit.
The manager gave him the boot
When he walked in, wearing a red suit
No dress code, no job
His boss was a slob
And also an over side brute
My neighbor gave me a fright
When her broomstick came into sight
Threw plenty of cats
From under her hats
Whose sharp claws put up a fight
Our math teacher said, “The eighth root
of pi to twelve digits compute
in base nine.” So then, is he
just keeping us busy
conducting this worthless pursuit?
Mr. P was a bland kind of guy,
(although some said, “There’s blood in his eye!”)
Sure, he’d wear a meat suit,
and make hair gel from fruit,
But there’s no way he’d ever be fly.
Next door’s a prime tree leaf to root
by which tempted, I snagged its best fruit,
jumping back o’er our fence
thus escaping from thence
with my neighbor’s dog in hot pursuit.
If your neighbour should give you the eye,
Don’t rush in! Stop, and ask yourself, “Why?”
She is young, bold and hot,
And let’s face it, you’re not;
Then again, Bud, go reach for the sky!
As a wise man once said – was it jest?
“When your friend is in need, he’s a pest!”
Observation astute?
Should we all follow suit?
Can’t decide? When you’re put to the test.
I forgot to say that the limerick above is, I believe, a twofer, ‘friend’ being a synonym for neighbour given the context. (Think ‘Wink’ emoji)
Joined the service, their newest recruit.
Got a haircut, new boots and new suit.
Three square meals, every day;
Brand new rifle – and pay –
And a whole load of bullets to shoot.
Escalation of heated dispute
Undesirable, lest you pollute
Clean, fresh air with your oaths,
Before rending of clothes
And injurious blows that prompt suit.
Take your time! Smell the roses! Don’t scoot!
Live your life as a leisure pursuit.
Those who generate stress
Make a terrible mess!
Take a look at the world – let’s reboot!
“Wine and women are worthy pursuits,
But for roundness of character, roots
Should go deep in rich soil
Of some honourable toil,
As fine women expect – don’t they Toots?”
Notice reads: “To all residents, suits
Must be worn at all times – no disputes!
Any bod’ seen in clothes,
Irregardless of oaths,
Will be stripped, tarred and feathered – computes?”
“Mrs Suggs, when you say, ‘Well, he shoots,’
I can’t see this as, ‘reckless ‘pursuits’.”
“I stands still, by the wall,
With the apple, an’ all,
An’ when he thinks he’s ready, he shoots.”
I should have titled that, ‘Grounds For Proceeding’.
The US and UK aren’t neighbours,
They speak English with different flavours.
US usage is crass;
Low-grade and bad-ass.
In the UK, good diction wins favours.
Said a writer of limericks, “Hi.
To win Ms Kane’s contest I’ll try.
The above verse should suit –
If it doesn’t – well – shoot –
I can’t stand it – CRUEL WORLD, IT’S GOODBYE!”
Please accept this revised version of my limerick above:
My neighbor’s new boyfriend’s a god!
He’s got an incredible bod!
We never have met
in person, and yet,
I’ve heard that his first name is “TODD!!!”
“Mrs Suggs, when you say, ‘Well, he shoots,’
I can’t see this as ‘reckless pursuits’.”
“I stands still, by the shed,
Like, with apple on ‘ead,
An’ when ‘e thinks ‘e’s ready, ‘e shoots.”
Denzel strode in and unzipped his suit,
Held his manhood at ready to shoot.
Doctor glanced, “Well, what’s wrong?”
Denzel smiled at his prong;
“Not a thing, Doc. I think it’s a beaut’!”
Neighbors and Pursuit (a double)
“Love Thy Neighbor” ?? Well, that’s a real hoot.
He might be a nasty galoot.
But if he looks hot,
Why not give it a shot?
It may be a worthwhile pursuit.
When your neighbour calls ‘round twice a day
And imposes himself, here’s the play.
Charge for coffee and tea,
Include service, and see,
If that don’t make the sod stay away.
A Twofer for sure!
When your neighbour calls ‘round twice a day
And imposes himself, here’s the play.
Charge for coffee and tea,
Include service, and see,
If that don’t make the sod stay away.
Should that fail, increase prices, include
Entry fee, and full-mark up for food.
If he still ain’t astute,
You may have to file suit;
But whatever you do, don’t be rude.
When she opened her door, he was mute.
She had dolled herself up, no dispute.
Hair and make-up? Chef’s kiss.
But the kicker was this:
Her exceedingly fine birthday suit.
In my youth I went au naturel;
I took pride in myself; you could tell.
But these days, the poor suit
Sags, and wrinkled, ain’t cute.;
Life is cruel, I’m no longer nouvelle.
When celebrity beckons, mon brute,
You must get you a Saville Row suit.
You’ll acquire savoir faire,
Become savant, not bear,
And the women will want you, to boot.
Neighbor Joe had a real sad expression.
It seems that because of recession,
He was fired, (poor guy)
But then so was I.
And together, we cried from depression.
Political foes are targeted, laws unmade,
foreigners as scapegoats get portrayed,
as the GOP in pursuit
of more U.S. Treasury loot
gives our ruler a high goose-step parade.
Mythomaniac, Emerson Snoot,
Carried tales to extremes in pursuit
Of his fortune and fame.
Anyone was fair game –
Rich or poor, all the same – the old coot!
OK It is an actual promotion – true story
My neighbor, Delighted Tobehere
Moved to N. Y. to have a career
He changes his suit
Wears high heels, looks cute
When she sings, she’s delightful to hear
She’s practicing her new pursuit
This Sunday because she needs loot
Don’t Tell Mama’s is where
And I wish I were there
But if you are – she’s really a hoot.
Dear Tony, you are a brave man
Propositioning my girl, Suzanne
Despite your pursuit
We are quite resolute
In achieving our convolute plan
“As a kitten, your Tabby was cute.
Now full-grown, he’s turned into a brute!”
‘Halt your verbal assault!
Tell my dad, it’s his fault.
Tabby watched him and then followed suit.”
Rattenfänger von Hamein, mit flute,
Led die kinder away. His dispute
Mit die Stadt und its volk,
Who’d reneged – Ja! No yolk –
Was resolved without threat or pursuit.
“Came a time when I sought out my roots.
Did I spring from blue-collar or suits?
Well?” “Your blood, and your genes,
Blue and high-born.” “That means
I am gonna need much bigger boots.”
It is easy, B A, to be brave,
When I’m so far away. I’d behave –
Well, I might – on the spot,
Then again, you’re both hot,
So, I might press my luck and be knave.
I did think I’d abandon pursuit
But am lured by the forbidden fruit.
And how is Suze today?
Have you locked her away?
Can she come out to play? I’d commute.
Here’s a thought! Were we neighbours, I’d call,
And between us, we’d have us a ball!
Every day, rain or shine;
Sometimes your place, some mine;
Does the thought have appeal, or appal?
When my neighbour called ‘round to say, “Hi!
I’ve just moved in next door. My name’s Di.”
I said, “Di? As in dead?”
She turned tail, then, and fled.
Ain’t seen hide nor hair since. Wonder why?
I’ve tried every which way to permute
All the options for using pursuit.
I’ve gone nudist – with snaps –
Chased a few hairy chaps,
So much so that I’ve had to reroute.
I have striven, as well, to permute
All the options pertaining to suit.
I’ve gone courtroom – big deal –
And genetic – get real –
And have even done minstrel with lute.
It’s real hard to keep up a grin
When the neighbors get under our skin.
We don’t get along.
So we sing this sweet song:
“Mr. Rogers, Oh Where Have You Been?”
Angus Compton, when clad in his ‘suit’
Was a man best described as hirsute.
From his head to his toes,
Nothing shows but his nose,
Yet his manhood ye wouldnae dispute.
Guess who this is
She sang a cute song ’bout a boot.
(The top of the chart, her pursuit)
Did not need the money;
Cuz I’m tellin’ you, honey:
Her daddy had oodles of loot.
To further this year’s academic pursuit,
Sammy tried out the Limericks 101 route.
Said his lit teacher, “Metaphor.”
What he heard was, “Get a whore”
so he bedded the neighborhood prostitute.
Your reward, Mr President, for inj-
ustices, for corruption, for inj-
uring our Constitut-
ion: a brand new suit
with your number on khaki orange.
He was billed as the neighbour from hell,
But I found we got on very well.
I like beer, as does he;
He swears freely, like me;
Yes, he’s quite brought me out of my shell.
Or if the “identical rhyme” of “for inj-” with “for inj-” doesn’t sound quite right, try this “more-for-or” version–
Your prize, Mr Prez, for more inj-
ustices, more corruption, for inj-
uring our Constitut-
ion: don your new suit
with your number on khaki orange.
And then picture me in this down-to-earth one–
I neglected to wear my skydiving suit
plus everything else thru my skivvies to boot,
but here a mile high
freefalling, I’m glad I
remembered to strap on my parachute.
I was once in addictive pursuit
Of campaign buttons (ugly or cute).
But now I’ve no use
For button abuse —
Except for the one labeled “Mute.”
People say I’m a really cute pup.
My neighbors say, “Hey Spot, wassup?”
I replied, “I had gas;
So I pooped on your grass.
I’m so sorry, no human picked up”
He’s there in his baggy, blue suit;
With an oversized necktie to boot.
Proclaiming his health
And incredible wealth
While Covid is still taking root.
Our neighbor’s a wonderful host;
Though cooking befuddles him most.
At breakfast today,
It was all on display;
He offered to scramble the toast.
My neighbor’s exceedingly rude —
He mows his whole lawn in the nude.
He somehow works hard
All day in the yard
And his weedwhacker’s much ballyhooed.
My neighbor pays all his expenses
He’s kind and he has no pretenses
So he’ll sell stolen art
And give you your part —
“Good neighbors,” he says, “make good fences.”
A flautist dressed up in a suit
Met a young lady quite cute
Said she, with eyes gleamy,
“Are you pleased to see me
Or are you just hiding your flute?”
A neighborhood lady named Bess
Is known for her scant style of dress.
With outfits so short,
There’s a constant report
Of thongs that are under duress.
I can only apologise for the somewhat indecorous offering.
Greet your neighbour: say, “Hi!” Quick! Move on.
Don’t engage! Half your day will be gone.
He will bore you to tears
Telling tales of his peers,
And the last time he sat on the john.
It’s a horrible word, prostitute.
We should change it for something that’s cute.
‘Willy Warmer’ sounds nice,
Doesn’t smack so, of vice.
Euphemizing’s a worthy pursuit.
The stag night was simply a hoot
The groom to be, pissed as a newt
Was found at daybreak
Tied to a stake
Wearing nowt but his birthday suit
In politics, “out on the stump”
Would change this year, right from the jump.
But one in pursuit
Said “I don’t give a hoot;
Covidiots – rally with Trump!”
A lady of some disrepute
Engaged in the oldest pursuit,
Would say, “Evil, honey,
Lies not in the money,
But all evil lies in the root.”
Before starting his neighbourhood watch,
Reggie swallowed two bottles of Scotch.
Next, a bottle of schnapps –
Just to fill in the gaps –
Which he shared with a friendly Sasquatch.
The boa is quite resolute
As instinct controls its pursuit
And its prey, crushed of breath,
Knows it’s seconds from death
As it sees the snake circumvolute.
All the cards thought Queenie a beaut
Her top and her bottom – quite cute
When King, Jack and Joker
Start to play poker
The rest of the pack follow suit
Though a couplet can readily commute
as many a Cyn poetry form’s root,
why render her sick
with one more lim’rick
when biolet prosody would suit?
My neighbour is gathering fame
Out in the garden again
It makes the folk stare
At those breasts, large and bare
Oh when will his wife do the same
My new Halloween costume’s a hoot.
I’ll be wearing a Donald Trump suit
(Though the make-up and hair
May give children a scare —
And give most of them nightmares to boot).
Mad, could change line 4 to breasts please
**********
Done.
When his neighbour ignored him, Wont Budge
Took exception and harboured a grudge.
“At the time, I was sore,
But I’m not anymore.”
Leastwise, that’s what he’s telling the judge.
I dream of a dwelling that’s rural
With two neighbors, a deer and a squirrel.
A small village below
Sends a welcoming glow….
But in MY ‘hood we call that a mural.
Love your neighbors, (religion or race).
Be wise, show politeness and grace.
So tell them they’re nice.
But here’s good advice:
They must not cough or sneeze in your face.
A couple that lives up the street
Just might be a tad indiscreet.
Their big screen at night
Through the window is bright
With porn, as we gather and greet.
Reply to Tony Holmes 10/14/2020
Appealing, appalling, whatever
Your chances are somewhere near never
Although your pursuit
Of Suzanne’s patoot
Is sometimes amusingly clever
If we were neighbors I’d guess
You would not get under her dress
If I’m to wed a girl
She seems quite a pearl
And would handle your suit with finesse
Reply To B A – Above:
You’re a fire-breathing Dragon, B. A.
I am done to a crisp; you hold sway.
I’ll abandon pursuit
Of Suzanne’s – what? – ‘Patoot’?
Doesn’t mean, now and then, we can’t play?
Our new neighbours look friendly enough –
And compliant. No need to get tough.
Give them time, early days;
Once they’re trained to our ways,
We’ll be able to borrow their stuff.
Our neighborhood’s free from all strife.
If you live here, you have a good life.
Our killer’s refined.
So we really don’t mind
When he stabs with his Towle butter knife.
It appears that my neighbors have started
To wear face masks with slogans imparted:
‘Cross the street lives “Free Hugs,”
On the corner “Got Drugs?”
Right next door “Blah Blah Blah” and “Who Farted?”
Our new neighbours look friendly enough –
And compliant. No need to get tough.
Give them time, early days;
Once they’re trained to our ways,
We’ll pop over and borrow their stuff.
“Hey, ho, neighbour! How goes it with you?”
“You don’t care! Don’t pretend that you do.
You’re a cockroach! You snoop
In the hope of a scoop.
What you’ll get is the toe of my shoe.”
“All women are weak, yet they’re cute.
The kitchen should be their pursuit.
Kill all of our foes,
And start with their toes”
(Some quotes from the man known as Newt)
Who said that we shouldn’t pollute?
I think it’s a worthwhile pursuit.
Don’t say, “It’s not right”
What a wonderful sight:
Watching birds fall from trees, (it’s so cute)
Mad:
Please change line 5 of above limerick to Watching birds fall from trees,
(it’s so cute)
I think it is better grammatically.
Thank you, Lisi
*********
Done.
He’s known as the neighborhood pest;
As merely “Hello” will attest.
When trapped in a chat,
One solution for that:
Proclaiming that Trump is the best.
With Halloween coming up . . .
For the vampire, romance was a chore.
Said, “It bites! It’s a thing I abhor.”
But a neighbor named Patty
Won his heart; drove him batty.
He’s in love with the woman necks door.
Inspired by Terry and Cyn (with apologies for incrimination)
When I concentrate on the word “orange,”
The one rhyme I can squeeze out is “whore binge.”
Such a seedy pursuit
(and pithetic to boot)
Makes me groan like a rusty old door hinge.
(“When bad lim’ricks are culpable,
pain grows more pulpable.”
William of Orange? On his deathbed?)
“Love my neighbour? I certainly shan’t!
I have tried, but I find that I can’t.
No, it’s not that I won’t,
I assure you. I don’t
Since the lowlife made free with my aunt.”
“Love my neighbour? Most certainly not!
They should hang him – let me tie the knot.
Bad enough that he toyed,
Now the sod’s overjoyed.
Auntie’s pregnant! He should have been shot!”
“Love my neighbour? Well, okay, I might.
Now they’re married, he may be all right.
Auntie’s given him twins,
In return for his sins;
Now they’re keeping him busy at night.”
When your neighbours are rowdy, “Oh, dear!”
Get your rifle, your duty is clear.
They’re disturbing the peace,
You could call the police,
But why bother? Just shoot them from here.
My neighbour enjoys his pursuits,
But has learned to his cost that patoots,
As a joy to behold,
May, indeed, be extolled,
But remain out of bounds to old coots.
Things are changing
I now work from home; what a hoot.
These days it’s a “must do” pursuit.
But I still drive to work.
It’s a habit, (and quirk)
Then I hurry back home and reboot.
Said a stylish young miss from Beirut,
who remained steadfastly resolute
against donning fatigues,
“Though the fashion intrigues
me, what doesn’t fit doesn’t well suit.”
change in Line One
I now work from home; still make loot.
These days, it’s a “must do” pursuit.
But I still drive to work.
It’s a habit (and quirk)
Then I hurry back home and reboot.
“Never give up! Your lifetime pursuit
Unlike mine will, one day, bear some fruit.
That the Yeti exist
I’ve no doubt, so persist,
And one day, you’ll say ‘Hi!” to a brute.”
The GOP’ll get no remission
from blame for pandemic attrition,
since courts’ll refute
any frivolous suit:
Trump’s a pre-existing condition!
It’s true that I’m very astute.
And wisdom’s my foremost pursuit.
Yet it took 50 years
Of sadness and tears
To grasp that tomato’s a fruit.
“Being neighbourly? Find it quite hard
Since that traumatic day in the yard.
I was catching some rays
When a voice ups and says,
‘That’s not much of a sword, but en garde!’”
I’ve a house in the country. Out there,
I have quiet, clear skies, and fresh air.
But it isn’t all nice.
I found out there’s a price
When my neighbor got et by a bear.
“Sasquatch, Yeti – Bigfoot – they’re all one!
I shall have one of each when I’m done.”
“An ignoble pursuit!”
“Why?’ “Because they can’t shoot
Back.” “So, softie, go give ‘em a gun.”
The couple upstairs didn’t care
If they broadcast their steamy affair.
At first, “Oohs” and “Aahs”
Followed up with a pause;
Then an “Uuh” to announce he was there.
We’ve all heard of the neighbours from hell
Who curse loudly, look angry and smell
Of stale booze, weed and oil,
Are averse to hard toil,
And will nick anything they can sell.
“You’re a stalker!” “No, no – it’s patoot.
It compels me to make my pursuit.
It’s the rhythm, you see.
It’s hypnotic to me.
Even you must admit that it’s cute.”
Damn those weeds that spring up in plethoras,
Like bindweed, and other such horrors!
They ruin my labours
By strangling their neighbours,
Behaviour as foul as Gomorrah’s!
(Double)
I’m engaged in a lustful pursuit
Of my neighbour, who’s temptingly cute.
So I long for the day
When her husband’s away;
“Love thy neighbour” – the Bible’s my route!
They go on for such a long while.
Are my neighbors wrestling freestyle?
At quarter past ten
They start over again
I now have the cops on speed dial.
The cops were hot in pursuit
Of the robbers who’d stolen the loot.
Then they all fled the scene
If you see what I mean…
‘Twas a cops and robbers cahoot.
I can’t stand those people next door,
She’s loud and he is a bore.
Their son’s out on parole,
The pets, out of control
And the daughter’s the neighbourhood whore.
When preparing some fruit
It won’t have been pre-pared to suit.
In preparing a pear
You might core and cut square,
But not pre-pare in perfection’s pursuit.
“As a skydiver, dangerous pursuits
Are a buzz; but the trouble with ‘chutes
Is, they fail. If they do,
Please take note! It’s a clue –
‘Diving isn’t for you. Study newts!”
It is best, when preparing good food,
Not to do so when tiddly and nude.
Quite apart from the fruit
Leaving stains on your ‘suit’,
You’ll have guests who’ll regard it as rude.
“Hello, neighbour! Nice day! Are you well?”
“No, I’m not, since you ask.” “Oh, do tell!
You look healthy to me.
Is it bad? May I see?”
“Yes, it is; no, you can’t. Go to hell!”
Trump Supporters?
A good neighbour is one who has views
Much in sync with your own. Your tattoos
Are the same and you’d shoot
Those whose views you dispute
And say, “Hey! Look! We got on the news!”
In response to Tony’s Oct. 11 verse 5:02 p.m.:
My ripe fruit ain’t yours for the pickin’
Stop chasing a tough old soup chicken!
Your silly pursuit
Of my ‘suit’ isn’t cute
But my brain is a beaut, and it’s kickin’!
In response to Tony’s Oct. 17 verse 7:47 a.m.:
B. A. Dragon’s patoot, also mine
Isn’t there for your pleasure, you swine!
A threesome is gruesome
Just stick to a twosome –
Your neighbor! Seduce ’em with wine!
As her neighbour recited a sonnet,
She poured on him sauce of scotch bonnet.
As a nasty young rascal
Just like Eddie Haskill,
She sprinkled Tabasco sauce on it!
The old man bought a nice pricey suit
And pretended to have lots of loot.
He fooled many a lass
To surrender her ass.
What a scoundrel that sassy old brute!
But those gold-diggers took that old route –
Chasing wealth in a quick, hot pursuit.
While he savoured the glory
He didn’t feel sorry
Aint THAT a fun story? Just cute!
I heard some loud screams from my neighbour
As though slashed with the blade of a saber
When I sought the mean bully
To dump in some gully,
Poor woman was fully in labour!
No time to call 9-1-1; oy!
Baby’s head showed; this bundle of joy
Made me meet and then greet
And perform a big feat
By deliv’ring a sweet baby boy!
Breathed a sigh of relief, did a twirl
But new things were about to unfurl.
Heard myself say, “Oh shoot!
Second babe is en route!”
And then out came a cute baby girl!
As I’m sitting on needles and pins,
I say, “Please don’t have triplets, just twins!”
But a third head is showing
My conscience is going,
“I’m reaping from sowing my sins!”
If my neighbour pops kid number four,
I will charge a commission, or more.
Well, before I could scram
From the newest li’l lamb,
I was saved by an ambulance door!
In parting …
Rest assured, I no longer pursue;
Not Ms Dragon’s patoot and not you.
No, my lesson is learned –
All my bridges are burned –
And my neighbour I’ve spurned, so, adieu!
A good neighbour’s a treasure indeed.
One to turn to whenever there’s need.
A bad neighbour is one
Who, in need, at a run,
Come’s a knocking, expecting you’ll heed.
Why spurn your own neighbour? She’s all
You’ve got left, and she just might enthrall
Unless homely as hell
Then your neighbourly gal
Ought to hide just as well. It’s your call!
Sorry Tony 10/23/2020 1?49 am
Your pursuit of patoot is amusing
Unfortunately we’re both refusing
We’re not yet even wed
It would be rude to bed
Someone else then find out we’re mischoosing.
Your kind words are no comfort at all
To a man who has hit a brick wall.
I’m cast down and forlorn.
There’s no blast in my horn;
M Monroe couldn’t make me stand tall.
Disappointment can have that effect
And compounds many years of neglect.
You both have, I have not,
You’re content with your lot,
And my neighbour’s the same, I suspect.
No, it’s best that I call it a day.
It was fun, but it’s better this way.
The new image sticks fast –
‘Chicken soup’ – I’m aghast! –
Will endure to the last. Oh, dismay!
Conjectured dimensions refute
Wheeler’s take on an Einstein dispute:
in fields non-abelian
black holes might be chameleon
with bound states quite clearly hirsute.
[Oops. I’ve been quickly corrected by a friend who knows the physics better than I do. In the preceding, “might be” should be “are”.]
Once whilest on a chalice pursuit
I got mutated into a newt
by a dame who by luck
weighed as much as a duck.
I got better and a bonfire to boot.
Superheroes each have a cool suit
Nicely tailor-made down to the boot.
Some look funny, some hot,
Some were sewn with much thought
So these heroes do not need to shoot.
They prevent or chase down in pursuit
The bad powers which harm us en route.
Well, then it’s no wonder
Applause is like thunder
Their good deeds ain’t under dispute.
They’re not heroes in comics or books,
Or in movies with dashing good looks
They’re our medic revivers,
Kind neighbors, high-fivers,
First responders, truck drivers, and cooks!
The current Limerick-Off ends tomorrow, Saturday, at 4 pm (Eastern time.) So please get your limerick stragglers in.
Get a cauldron that’s really top notch;
Add some gin and six bottles of scotch,
Toe of frog, eye of newt —
It’s a charm that should suit
When you’re out there on Neighborhood Watch.
Ancient history traditionally excludes
civilized philogynist attitudes,
like how we’ve kept mute
about God’s Wife Hatshepsut
since pharaohs are supposed to be dudes.
While shopping for clothes, be astute.
It’s for work, so not overly cute.
Geez, that jacket’s a sack!
Please don’t pick off the rack—
All you’ll find is some low-hanging suit.
Though your home is the fruit of your labors,
You might not get to pick your close neighbors.
Sure most couples will fight,
But all day and all night?
And on horseback with cavalry sabers?
“Well, dear neighbour, I think you can tell
It’s been good fun to visit a spell.
But like every pursuit,
Brief is best, lest its fruit
Should turn bitter. I bid you farewell!”
To Brits, this sign doesn’t suit
It’s known as the V sign salute
Better known on those shores
As “F*** you, up yours!”
Remember next time you commute
Well then, since Trump’s so damn resolute
at receiving a proper salute,
I’ll pretend I’m a Brit
and salute him as fit —
sounds to me like that V sign would suit!
A clever young spinster so cute
While swimming one day tossed her suit.
Her beaming old mommy
Cried, “My goodness honey!
You’ve twenty young men in pursuit.”
Prostitute, newt, pollute, hoot, astute,
absolute, execute, brute pursuit…
Not to sound deprecatin’
but like campaign debatin’
may we now press that button marked MUTE?
Thanks so much everyone for another fun two weeks of limericks. This Limerick-Off is officially over. And the winner is…
Limerick-Off Award 455. Congratulations to the winners!
But you can still have lots of limerick fun because a new Limerick-Off has just begun: Limerick-Off Doze.