Archive for April, 2021

Parnassian Passion (Limerick)

Sunday, April 25th, 2021

Why am I first learning the word “Parnassian?” Oh well … better late than never.

I felt like a dolt and turned ashen
On belatedly learning “Parnassian”
Can mean poem-related.
My ego’s deflated…
But I’ll keep penning lim’ricks with passion.

Limerick-Off Monday – Rhyme Word: PLOT at the end of any one line (Submission Deadline: May 1, 2021)

Saturday, April 17th, 2021

It’s Limerick-Off time, once again. And that means I write a limerick, and you write your own, using the same rhyme word. Then you post your limerick(s) as a comment to this post and, if you’re a Facebook user, on Facebook too.

I hope you’ll join me in writing limericks using PLOT 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 DRONES, using any rhyme word. And of course I’ll present an extra award — one for the best DRONE-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 May 2, 2021 right before I post the next Limerick-Off. So that gives you two full weeks to submit your clever, polished verse. Your submission deadline is Saturday, May 1, 2021 at 4:00 p.m. (Eastern Time.)

Here’s my PLOT-rhyme limerick:

A woman at work on a plot
For a book that she hoped would be hot,
Read an excerpt aloud
To a writers’ group crowd.
Someone scoffed: “Is the author a bot?”

And here’s my DRONE-themed Two-Verse limerick:

“I do NOT want to own a damn drone,
No matter how easily flown.
It’s the last thing I’d buy,
And I can’t fathom why
You keep spamming me. Leave me alone!

“How I got on your list, I don’t know.
Was my email supplied by a foe?
May your sales and drones crash!
And here’s a hot flash:
Do NOT hold your breath for my dough!”

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 Subject: MadKane’s Newsletter. Thanks!

Limerick-Off Award (467)

Saturday, April 17th, 2021

It’s time to announce the latest Limerick-Off winners based on submissions (on this blog and on Facebook) in the last Limerick-Off.

Congratulations to BRIAN ALLGAR, who wins the Limerick-Off Award for this funny limerick:

“Free verse” was invented by hacks
Whose grasp on poetics is lax.
Without meter or rhyme,
What they write is a crime –
The law should impose a syntax.

Congratulations to TIM JAMES, who wins the Special SHEEP-Themed Limerick Award for this funny limerick:

Little Bo, as she tended her sheep,
Smoked a bowl and then fell fast asleep.
Her whole flock, at high cost,
Wandered off and got lost —
While from Bo there’s been nary a Peep.

Congratulations to SJAAN VANDENBROEDER and LISI NORTMAN ARDISSONE, who jointly win a special Limerick Repartee Award for this limerick exchange:

Sjaan VandenBroeder:

When his fleece got too curly and twee,
Lambert bawled, “Maa! What’s happ’ning to me?”
Ewenice answered him, “Bah!
Que sera que sera —
Whatever wool be, lamb, wool be.”

Lisi Nortman Ardissone:

Dear Sjaan, this might sound a bit odd.
I’ve advice for you, (so help me God)
That lim’rik was fab,
Yet a little bit drab.
Cuz puns about sheep are so baaa-d.

Sjaan VandenBroeder:

Dear Lisi, I know I’ve descended
Into maaa-dness; it can’t be defended.
I have lambasted bovid —
I blame it on Covid.
Signed, Sheepish One. (No pun intended).

And congratulations to these Honorable Mention winners (in random order) Sue Dulley, Lisi Nortman Ardissone, Brian Allgar, Dave Johnson, Sondra Landin, Kirk Miller, Tim James, Terry Marter, Doug Harris, Sjaan VandenBroeder, Rudy Landesman, Tony Holmes, Mark Totterdell, David Friedman, and Jean McEwen. Here are their respective Honorable Mention limericks:


Sue Dulley:

Unlike sheep, moose and elk males have racks
Known as ‘antlers’ for rutting attacks.
Ev’ry Bighorn sheep mourns:
“Why are mine just called ‘horns’
Like a trumpet, trombone and a sax?”

Lisi Nortman Ardissone:

An accountant I know can’t relax.
He hallucinates papers in stacks.
He has tried counting sheep,
But he still can not sleep,
Due to fabled 1040 attacks.

Brian Allgar:

Oh, damn it! I’ve just popped a button!
It’s my own fault for being a glutton.
I get hunger attacks
And I need little snacks,
So I’ve gobbled a whole leg of mutton.


Dave Johnson:

Grown weary of right-wing attacks?
Here’s something to help you relax:
Experience Fox
And those radio jocks
With volume turned down to the max.

Sondra Landin:

The boy at the piano attacks
The music of Brit Arnold Bax.
He pounds and he stumbles,
Then finally grumbles,
“I’d rather be playing the sax!”

Kirk Miller:

The Venus de Milo is charming,
But some think it’s rather alarming.
Beneath shoulders she lacks
Any limbs, so attacks
Are made that the statue’s disarming.

Tim James:

Corporations avoid paying tax
While they pile up the money in stacks.
“But it’s legal!” they say
As it’s all waved away
By a phalanx of flunkies and flacks.

Brian Allgar:

The killer goes mad with an ax,
And his victims are bundled in sacks.
But none of them bleeds;
All the corpses are weeds,
The results of his garden attacks.

Terry Marter:

In my beautiful dream nothing lacks.
We drift, so relaxed, on our backs.
Then a tongue in my ear
Says reality’s here;
It’s our Dog’s friendly “Wake up!” attacks.

Doug Harris:

As through this mad life we make tracks –
Uncertainty wielding its axe,
There are two things for sure
(It’s so simple, so pure)
That you’ll shortly be dead and pay tax!

Sjaan VandenBroeder:

Lizzie Borden, indicted by hacks,
For her heinous (unproven) attacks,
Is notorious still
As the goriest thrill
In one famous Museum of Whacks.

Rudy Landesman:

The op’ra’s been under attacks
In Rome, by vociferous claques.
They shout and they boo,
Throw tomatoes — that too.
What’s become of that old Roman Pax?

Tim James:

A collection of ignorant hacks
Runs around spewing stuff anti-vax.
Although prospects are dim,
We could pay for the stim
If we passed a stupidity tax.

Lisi Nortman Ardissone:

When I have my “insolvent attacks”
I use a great trick to relax.
I breathe into a bag,
Till I feel I will gag.
Then skedaddle right over to Saks.


Tony Holmes:

Sid and Elsie a-shivering stood,
Sporting crew-cuts from old farmer Good.
Elsie said, “You look blue.”
Sid replied, “So will you.
I’m no longer a ram who packs wood.”

Mark Totterdell:

A cultured and civilized leopard
Ate a whole flock of sheep and their shepherd.
It did not eat them raw,
But pot-roasted, with slaw
And some garlic potatoes, well-peppered.

David Friedman:

There once was a fellow named Rand,
The horniest guy in the land;
He wore out six brides,
Twelve hookers besides,
Nine sheep, and the lines on his hand.

Sjaan VandenBroeder:

Take sheep dip with sugar — one lump.
Or inject it right into your rump.
It works against Covid,
Just ask any bovid.
I read this in “Cure-alls” by Trump.

Jean McEwen:

It seems I’ve been fleeced by Lee Lamb
And her parents (Ma Ewe and Dad Ram.)
’Cause their pledge of fine wool,
It turns out, was pure bull–
And I gullibly fell for their scam.

Terry Marter:

Couldn’t sleep so I picked up my pen,
But decided to practice my Zen.
Then I wondered if sheep,
(When they can’t get to sleep)
Prefer to count women or men.

Rudy Landesman:

A lamb chop, as cute as a button,
Was eaten by one greedy glutton.
Its mommy, the sheep,
No longer could sleep;
Her baby would never be mutton.

Tim James:

“On the lam from some mobsters is he,”
Said the girl, “So he can’t marry me.”
Said her dad, “Those are lies;
Pull the wool from your eyes!”
And she sheepishly had to agree.

Lisi Nortman Ardissone:

My young son wants to nourish his brain;
Asks me questions, and some I explain.
“Is the moon made of cheese?”
And “Who built the trees?”
And “Why don’t sheep shrink in the rain?”

Kirk Miller:

The shepherd said sheepishly, “Damn!
I find that I’m in a big jam.”
And an ewe knew he’d cry
When he said with a sigh,
“The young sheep have all gone on the lam.”

Congratulations again to all the winners for your wonderful limericks. And thanks to everyone for your fun submissions.

In the next couple of minutes I’ll be posting a new Limerick-Off, which gives you yet another opportunity to win the Limerick-Off Award.

To receive an email alert whenever I post a new Limerick-Off, please email Subject: MadKane’s Newsletter. Thanks!

A Grating Upgrade (Limerick)

Sunday, April 11th, 2021

Had a four-day-long mess at my site;
Server upgrade (gone bad) caused the blight.
The encoding set wrong
Made me long for a bong.
But it’s fin’ly been fixed, bit by byte.

I’m Not Sweet On Sourdough Bread (Limerick)

Thursday, April 1st, 2021

To those of you who enjoy it, Happy Sourdough Bread Day! (April 1)

I am sour on sourdough bread;
Its taste tends to fill me with dread.
But at dough-contents questions
To stave off ingestions
Of sourdough, bakers see red.

I don’t mean to condemn or attack.
I can’t help it; my taste buds are wack.
To some dough, they say “No!”
So I’m begging you: Throw
Something sourdough-free in my sack.