Limerick-Off Monday – Rhyme Word: STEAK or STAKE or MISTAKE at the end of any one line (Submission Deadline: Aug. 20, 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 STEAK or STAKE or MISTAKE at the end of ANY ONE LINE. (A homonym or homophone not listed here may be used in lieu of the designated rhyme word.)
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 BARS, using any rhyme word. And of course I’ll present an extra award — one for the best BARS-related limerick.
And for a THIRD SEPARATE CHALLENGE, I’ve used a “Random Word Generator” to generate five random words. Your challenge is to use AT LEAST TWO of the Random Words anywhere in your limericks.
Here are the FIVE RANDOM WORDS for this contest: SHOP, RUN, NEWS, WARNING, FIRST.
(You’re free to singularize/pluralize the designated random nouns and to change the tense of the designated random verbs. You can even turn adjectives in adverbs and vice versa. And you are NOT required to use any of them as rhyme words, as long as at least two of the words appear somewhere in your limericks.)
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 August 21, 2022, right before I post the next Limerick-Off. So that gives you four full weeks to submit your clever, polished verse. Your submission deadline is Saturday, August 20, 2022 at 4:00 p.m. (Eastern Time.)
Here’s my STEAK or STAKE or MISTAKE-rhyme limerick:
A man who was rather a flake
Would beef about folks eating steak:
“When you chew, cows can feel it,”
He’d hiss. “As for veal, it
Is worse, so I cotton to snake.”
And here’s my BARS-themed limerick:
A pub owner often stole cars,
Pricey paintings, and sometimes guitars.
He neglected his tavern,
Which looked like a cavern.
Fin’lly caught, he is now behind bars.
And here is my RANDOM WORDS GENERATOR Limerick:
“Don’t go running with knives,” parents warn.
Their children’s response? Often scorn:
“How ’bout scissors?” they query,
Which makes one mom weary:
“Should have stopped with my very first born.”
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: Badly Behaved Children, Beef Eaters, Children Humor, Competition Limerick, Flakes Humor, Food Poem, Food Verse, Limerick Challenge, Limerick Contest, Poetry & Prompts, Snake Limericks, Steak Humor, Steak Limerick, Vegetarians Humor, Warnings Humor, Writing Prompts
“We are no longer called, “Pub McGee”
Sorry patrons, the news is that we
Have lost our permit.
All the bartenders quit.
Now our new name is “BYOB”
A rancher named Devious Drake
Is well-known as a cheat and a fake.
His cows are forlorn,
Cuz they’re dressed up as corn.
And he’s selling, “Delish Vegan Steak”
This Haiku-Off’s a real piece of cake.
It’s so easy I have to partake.
“Soft rain, winsome day.
The unfolding of May”
I think that I made a mistake.
An inciter-to-riot named Josh
Bravely took to his heels with panache.
When news of the coup
Was first breaking, he knew
It was time to start running, by gosh!
I told her I fancied a steak
But she must have made a mistake
Or perhaps she misheard
‘Cause she gave me bean curd
Unless it was just a piss-take
Said an old plastic surgeon, “I’m skilled,
And it’s in bars my dreams are fulfilled.
Barmaids who are buxom
Why, I liposucks ’em;
And then those who are small I rebuild.”
As my new date and I dined on steak,
I asked her if her name was a fake.
She said, “No; it’s true.
Folk call me Boo-Boo;
Because my real name is Miss Take.”
With his job as “Enforcer” at stake,
Bruiser had hard decisions to make:
“Should I tail ’em and whale ’em,
Then thump ’em and dump ’em,
Or maybe just give ’em a break?”
When that list of “Top Towns” is reversed,
by the News, then my burg isn’t cursed.
For “Worst Places to Dwell,”
Or “Best Simulates Hell” —
There we are! And, oh look, we made first!
When space travel doesn’t bring fear,
And moon restaurants seem very near.
View of earth is not fake,
And they serve a great steak,
But I fear that they won’t have an atmosphere.
Ignorance, apathy it is fair.
Are as different as earth and the air.
But to ask for my take.
Would be a mistake,
Because I don’t know and don’t care.
“I’m your hostess, so please be aware
In First Class, you will get special care.
I have warned those in coach
In each snack there’s a roach.
And they all have to pee at O’Hare.”
I love Ms. Delmonico Steak.
Those fatties have one sexy shake.
But the best thing ’bout Delly
Is the tilt of her belly,
When she’s sandwiched between me and Jake.
When Pericles, once a young rake
Solved a riddle his life was at stake.
It regarded a king,
Whose incestuous fling
Was more than the poor prince could take.
A vampire once known as Jake
Went to a young butcher’s wake,
And saying, “What the heck,”
He bit someone’s neck,
While everyone else dined on steak.
A man made an awful mistake
and orded a well, well done steak.
Ol’ head chef is in fumes
’bout to sign all our dooms
and stab well-done man with a stake.
A vampire once known as Jake
Went to a fabulous wake,
And saying, “What the heck,”
He went for the neck,
While his victim was dining on steak.
(Slightly better version, i think)
Walking the plank an indicator.
A pirate will meet his creator.
It would be his mistake,
A shower to take.
He’ll washup on shore a bit later.
The termite’s aim was quite clear.
Walks into a bar, not for beer.
He begins his task,
When he then asks.
“So, is the bar tender here”?
Stu sat idling, drunk in his car;
He’d decided he wouldn’t drive far.
But he still had a thirst,
So he put it in first,
And ran into his neighborhood bar.
Mad: Would you please delete my limerick at July 23. 8.16pm, and replace with this one which includes a clarification of the rhyme pronunciation. Thanks.
This limerick is written in British English. The Rs in the words Cars and Bars are therefore not pronounced, so would effectively be as Cahs and Bahs.
It was fun in the back seat of cars
Around midnight; the fumbling with bras,
And, – Oh goodness!… – Good grief!
I’ve just re-read the brief:
I’m supposed to be writing ’bout Bars.
If a transgender steer feels a fake,
As a male, and evinces an ache,
To become a real cow
(not some carnivore’s chow),
Is it PC to call her Miss Steak?
p.s. Hi, Dale. I greet you in the spirit of punship. I had a good laugh over
your termite’s line, “Is the bar tender here?”
Here’s the bad news: you’re under a curse.
Run fast, or end up in a Hearse.
I could tell you the rest,
But you’ll get real depressed.
(Inciden’ly the good new is worse.)
At “Senior Life” Wow! we’ve come far.
Our Strip Shows are wild and bizarre.
We have sex ev’ry night.
Till the dawn’s early light.
In our showers we all have a bar.
An impulsive young fellow named Lars
Had a yen for fast women and cars.
He’d no money, the schlub,
So he held up a pub.
Now he’ll spend three to five behind bars.
“Have you heard about “Off-The-Wall Jake?”
The rumor is, “Jake is a Flake”
Cause he goes to “The Grill”
Tells the waiter he will
Have some A1 to mess up his steak.”
The good news is I am awake.
The bad news? Abdominal ache.
Without any warning,
I’ve insight this morning:
I shouldn’t have eaten that steak.
When I opened a Mom and Pop Shop,
First my Ma thought it over-the-top.
Then she — never mirthless —
Said, “Frankly, I’m worthless,
But we’ll ask a good price for your Pop.”
“Dick, Jane, and Spot”
In the First Grade, we read, “See Spot Run”
Seems Spot had a whole lot of fun.
But his Mom was a bitch,
Who barked, “Spot, please don’t snitch;
Tell your friends you’re a “son of a gun.”
I primed myself up for “the run.”
Cuz the “Marathon” sounded like fun.
But I wasn’t forewarned.
(All the spectators mourned)
When I croaked at the sound of the gun.
Better Wording Of Above Limerick:
I primed myself up for “the run”
Cause the Marathon sounded like fun.
But I wasn’t forewarned.
(All the spectators mourned)
When I croaked from the blast of the gun.
(The guns at marathons have blanks)
In the shop runs a warning that reads:
SAFETY FIRST! (not the fool, he who heeds)
Cut re-bars, half awake…
Not big news, small mistake
Measured twice and cut once, but it bleeds!
The fate of the world is at stake.
Too much heat makes our poor planet bake.
There’s hot music, hot sex
And the heat from my ex,
Who’s still trying to get all I make.
They prepared for a forty-year trip —
Not by plane, not by train, not by ship.
And thus, the Lord spake:
“Thou shalt not eat steak.
The wine of my wrath thou shalt sip.”*
*Jeremiah 25:15-17 (more or less)
Mr. Goldstein, I know you’ve a thirst
For this girl, you’re completely immersed.
Here’s a warning, I’ll stress:
You must stroke and caress.
Cuz that’s what they wanna’ do first.
Correction of Above Limerick, line 3
Mr. Goldstein, I know you’ve a thirst
For this girl, you’re completely immersed.
Please be warned, (and I stress)
You must stroke and caress.
Cuz that’s what they wanna do first.
To whichever First Lady you cleave,
It depends on the “News” you believe.
Some accounts say it’s still,
Mrs. Trump, and not Jill,
While the die-hards report that it’s Eve.
Mr. Mattress Tag warned her and said,
“Do not rip me, lest you will be dead!”
But she did it in fun.
“It’s too late to run!”
(Spoke the teensy cop under her bed.)
“The Club?” (Introduced in 1986)
“The Club” is a lockable bar
For a steering wheel, (quite up-to-par)
To my great disbelief,
This real stupid thief
Stole my bar, but he left me my car.
Shopped around for some “Yum Pruny Buns”
At Trot’s Bak’ry I bought tons and tons.
Then brought them to church.
Spotted many a lurch.
All the nuns had a case of the runs.
He said “Your beauty makes my heart quake
Denying our love would be a mistake
For me there’s no other
We can live with my Mother ”
She replied ‘please go jump in the lake”
I’ve spent my life playing in bars
Drinking whiskey and driving fast cars
Lovely ladies were plentiful
But, now life’s uneventful
Over sixty they think I’m from Mars
(Actually I’m 86)
“Hello, will you sign my petition?
I hope this will come to fruition:
It says, “We’ve come far
So don’t charge for the bar,
We can’t even pay the tuition”
Swinging for a grand slam on the random words:
Dr. Fauci once gave me the blues;
At his warnings I’d run — take his cues.
But I’ve said “What the hell”
And emerged from my shell;
To go shopping at first was big news.
I RUN quite a large butcher’s SHOP.
When the Mafia sent NEWS I should stop,
They FIRST gave a WARNING –
They set fire to the awning;
After that they will give me the chop.
Diabetics, and this I do know,
Should cut out all sugar. And so,
Goodbye candy bars!
And this really scars —
My sweet sugar daddy must go.
For double, nay, triple duty:
In Dublin, a bar’s called a pub,
And they serve up some interesting grub.
A rookie mistake
Is to order a steak;
Get the corned beef and cabbage, you schlub.
All the meat eaters sigh, and then quake
In alarm at the high cost of steak.
But I’m tired of the moaning
And all of the groaning.
Retort: I say, let them eat cake!
To hear sad-sacks and hapless bums croon,
The best place is your local saloon.
For a moderate cost
You yourself can get sauced
And then belt out your own maudlin tune.
If lunatic Trump jumps the gun
And announces a firm plan to run
In the next month or two
There’s but one thing to do:
Heed the warning! There’s time! Cut and run!
Mom owned a real nice clothing shop.
The prices were “over-the-top.”
How’d she buy all that stock?
The news was a shock!
Turns out she embezzled from Pop.
Each time we had sex in the car
Jane said, “You are not up-to-par.”
Her complaint was my size.
Fine’ly said my goodbyes.
She was raising the bar much too far.
My latest medical treatments for shoulder pain, and it’s TRUE!
If your shoulders feel tight and they ache,
You should try the new treatments I take.
The needles are small
The shots won’t hurt at all
If you like being jabbed with a stake.
Better Punch Line
Each time we had sex in the car,
Jane said, “You are not up-to-par.”
He complaint was my size.
Fine’ly said my goodbyes.
She was raising the bar up too far.
I did miss you. Please make no mistake.
Then you stopped by today. Goodness sake!
And that got me to humming —
🎶If I knew you were coming,
I’d have baked you an old-fashioned cake.🎶
My date, Johnny Glib, (not too clever)
Repeatedly mumb’ling “whatever”
I said, “Gotta run,
Golly gee, this was fun.
I’ll see you again First of Never.”
On the news we’re warned, “Carry a mask,”
And a gun, in case shopping’s your task.
But for me the best way,
To keep worries at bay,
Is, quite simply, to carry a flask.
If you watch the first “Star Wars”, I heard
You’ll be once again thrilled and real stirred.
But don’t keep running back
To grab the whole stack.
Cuz then you’ll be one pukka nerd.
“Star Wars”
If you watch the first “Star Wars”, I’ve heard
You’ll be once again thrilled and real stirred.
But don’t keep running back
To grab the whole stack.
Or you’ll morph into one pukka nerd.
(I think that’s better)
I made an egregious mistake
When I stepped on that damn garden rake.
The result, as you’d guess,
Left my face in a mess.
(My whole life’s a cartoon, for God’s sake.)
At the yearly competitive bake,
He devised a dessert using steak.
With his very first try,
Won the prize for Sweet Pie.
Now that really does take the cake.
So how does Count Drac’ like his stake.
Don’t ask, – he’s asleep (let’s not wake).
In this story’s next part
We will spike his foul heart,
Then we’ll all cheer “Well done!” and eat cake.
His attempt to chew two stacks of steak
Was the biggest mistake he would make.
“Please mete out no more,
Or I’ll puke on floor.
I’m declining to further partake”.
BARS THEME:
The cool writers hang out in bars
with the painters and big movie stars,
but I and my friends
when the night’s drinking ends
sit in subways and strum our guitars.
In Paris I spent all my dough
On a painting by Señor Miró.
But I made a mistake.
Didn’t know ’twas a fake.
They spoke French when they said that it’s “faux”.
Pre-ordered our meal by the lake,
But the restaurant staff need a shake.
‘ Asked for Fillet (by phone);
What I got was T-bone,
Now the bone of contention’s my steak!
In Baja, our lives are at stake.
(Always worrying, “When’s the next quake?”)
But the ones we don’t mind
Are the wilderness kind
Though they do rattle many a’ snake.
Guess I took the term “pub crawl” too far,
By exceeding my drink-limit par.
When I ordered one more,
From my seat on the floor,
I thought, “Who the hell lowered the bar?”
There went my balletic ambition.
In hopes of a skilled acquisition.
Cuz while holding the bar,
“Master” said, “You’re no star.”
(I couldn’t get past first position.)
It seems that I made a mistake
When I tasted my wife’s cider cake.
I said, “Yum! hits the spot,
Except it is not
As good as my mom used to make.”
It seems I’m a man who is lame.
“Wifey” cried, “You should feel awful shame.”
Guess I made a mistake
When I said, “Take a break
Stop yakkin’, I’m watchin’ the game.”
Mad Kane won’t allow a mistake;
One bad rhyme and no prize will you take.
But win though you may,
There will be no payday;
On that bet my whole fortune I’d stake.
A variation on the Miró limerick.
In Paris I bought a Monet.
A shipload of cash I did pay,
Bur I made a mistake —
The painting was fake.
I’d thought “faux” gave it added cachet.
Some random thoughts on Mad’s “Don’t Make me Look!”
First, Nude Pickleball news had me tickled,
But my skin never bronzed — it just nickeled.
Next, I showed up in shorts,
And was run off the courts.
(You can’t play if you’re only half pickled).
“Wifey Love, here is something brand new
To prove my devotion is true.”
(Seems I made a mistake
When I said, “Darling, take
This treadmill, I bought just for you.”)
Correction to 7/25 @ 11:18
The termite’s aim was very clear.
Walks into a bar, not for beer.
He begins his new task,
When he ups and asks.
“So, is the bar tender here”?
Paul Revere said goodby to his son.
Then left silver shop to start the run.
He was first that still morning,
To send out a warning.
Many hours before his day was done.
I Can’t Take It Any Longer!
In Chicago, I’ll no longer stay!
I’ve warned locals, but they won’t obey!
“Don’t say, “tee-aks” it’s “TAX”!
I still hear snarky cracks.
They can’t tawk right; I’m runnin’ away.
First, Bill went to “La Shoppe V.I.P.”
A Rolex he wanted to see.
Then looked up at the clock,
And went into shock.
Didn’t realize the time was for free.
STEAK, STAKE or MISTAKE
Each evening I choose to eat steak
I think that it’s sometimes a fake.
When I dump that belief
I sigh with relief
To know that I’ve made a mistake
BARS
In England all pubs have their bars
Sit outside and you might see the stars.
At the right time of night
You might get a sight
Of the red planet we all know as Mars.
SHOP, RUN, NEWS, WARNING, FIRST
I try to shop first in the morning
To counter a regular warning.
I run to the shop
And I just never stop
Thus avoiding stale food that is spawning
As a vegan I do try to make
A point to S-chew T-bone steak.
To meet meat, i refuse;
It’s the veggies I chews;
Ig-gnaw bones; and be slim (as a rake).
(All randoms).
He burst in the shop without warning.
First he fired a few shots through the awning.
Did I run? Just a bit, –
Down my leg (pee and shit).
I’ll be News ‘on the nose’ in the morning.
In golf it would be a mistake.
To swing club like you’re driving a stake.
Smooth swing and rotation,
Removes your frustration.
Bad habits are so hard to break.
As a child, I thought my heart would break,
When I murdered my pet goldfish, “Flake,”
By forgetting his food.
With deep pain did I brood;
Now it’s all just a minor missed ache.
When boating you’ve gone way too far.
You’re hot, when you land on a bar.
It would be a mistake,
To sit there and bake.
Push, off that sandbar (there you are).
Unresolved insomnia?
Couldn’t sleep (I’d tried counting the stars).
Music worked ‘cause it drowned-out the cars.
But I woke with a start
When, before the best part,
It just stopped, – after thirty one bars.
A gal named Marie Antoinette
Couldn’t grasp just how bad things could get.
With her noggin at stake
She cried, “Let them eat cake!”
‘Twas an outburst she came to regret.
Karen never heeds warnings, (that fool).
I guess that she thinks it’s uncool.
First she drank Rusty Nail
Later, started to wail.
While drowning in Tinley Park Pool.
Senior Activities
The first of each month we join “Views.”
A forum for “seniors” ’bout news
Which is current, although,
Ms. Gold wanted to know,
“Did William H. Taft really lose?”
A triangle player called Lars,
During 90 bars rest, dreamt of cars.
Since he stole a hot Honda,
He’s more time to ponder
As he rests and counts time behind bars.
A triangle player called Lars
Was cornered by three police cars.
Since that car chase from hell,
He now lives in a cell
Where he rests, counting time through the bars.
While biking I spied a young lass.
Sunbathing, not hiding her ass.
I slammed on my brake.
(Took A double take.)
And fell head over handlebar (WHAT class).
While boating, you’ve gone way too far.
You’re hot, when you land on a bar.
It would be a mistake,
To sit there and bake.
PUSH off that sandbar (be a star).
A young lass who admired the heck out
Of a vampire she yearned to check out,
Said, “Romance is at stake,
So a chance I must take.”
Give her credit for sticking her neck out.
I suspect that this book, There Once Was a Limerick Anthology, will prove to be a very interesting and fun read. And its editor, Michael Croland, has offered me one free copy to give away to one of my Limerick-Offers. To be eligible, you must be one of the winners of this, the current Limerick-Off and reside in one of the lower 48 US states.
A preacher walks into a bar
And he says, “My wife’s out in the car,
Where we just came to blows.”
(That’s as far as it goes;
I’ve not thought of a punchline so far.)
Right into a bar walks a noun.
He’s verbing an adjective frown.
The noun owner freaks
And adverbally speaks:
“No More Jokes!! Cuss Cuss Get Outta’ Town”
With the world’s future climate at stake,
It’s not time to be taking a break.
The new bill’s a success.
(Even Manchin says “yes.”)
I’ll tell Toomey, “Go jump in a lake!”
Warning signs say I’m old; I feel cursed.
Yet my mem’ry is not at its worst.
In fact now when I make,
Any kind of mistake,
I can honestly claim it’s my first.
Taking classified papers? A crime.
But where can “The Donald” do time?
Call the place where he’ll wail
About being in jail
“Bar a Lago,” with walls he can’t climb.
I turned on the NEWS in the morning.
The FIRST thing I heard was this WARNING:
The J6 Committee
Makes Donald feel shitty,
So perjury’s what he’s suborning.
Tornadoes are truly a bitch.
Warning sirens have one grating pitch.
On the “Trailer Park News”
Those real nasty crews
Tell us, “Run out and lie in a ditch”
When at first Trump decided to run,
We thought it was all in good fun.
But let it be noted —
Some folks never voted,
And the nation was shocked when he won.
My mom, the real beautiful Marge
Said, “Today Captain Joe is in charge.
We’ll drink rum and Coke
With the rest of the folk.
And get buzzed in the bar on the barge.”
The tavern on Cedar is fun.
And I heard it’s been fully re-done.
But the pub I suggest
Is truly the best.
It’s over on Maple, “Bar None.”
Correction Of Above Limerick
The tavern on Cedar is fun.
And I heard it’s been fully re-done.
But the pub I suggest
That’s truly the best
Is right down on Maple, “Bar None”
I’ve lost facts that my brain has mislaid,
Let run dry, or repressed, or made fade.
So it seems kind of lame,
That it still stores the name
Of the teacher I had in first grade.
Please Maestro, don’t make a mistake –
This will be your twentieth take!
If you now skip a beat
And your band must repeat,
They’ll trumpet a permanent break!
Hey Sjaan, (and anyone else who might find this interesting)
A little story in response to your remembering the name of your first-grade teacher.
As a child during WWII, I lived in Zuerich and was secretly in love with my blonde, blue-eyed class-mate, Eveline.
I memorized her phone number, but never had the courage to call her. After the war my family emigrated to the U.S.; and when I was 28, I spent a few days visiting my childhood home. I remembered Eveline’s number, and I called for the first time. She still lived with her mom at that time, and we had a lovely date at the theater.
Today, I use her phone number as a password. If that ain’t love…..
Our firstborn we’ve named Brilliant Drake.
At 6 months, he was baking a cake!
Our second born, Bill
Was just run-of the mill.
And the third one we call The Mistake.
The symphonic triangle-ist (Lars),
Keeps some choc’late in three-sided jars.
To regain his prior zest,
Lost through excessive rest,
He devours three Toblerone bars.
The guy was a once-rising star,
Convinced that he’d surely go far.
But thanks to the Trumpster
His career’s in the dumpster,
And that’s the sad tale of Bill Barr.
See us first when you want to buy weed!
Ours is best, as you’ll gladly concede.
If you want to get high,
My fine missus and I
Run the mom-and-pop pot shop you need.
Hi, Rudy. No limerick here, just a quick note to say I enjoyed your
memory tale. I found it rich with poignancy and humor. I’m amazed
by the details you’ve retained, especially the phone number! Although
my first-grade-teacher memories are less specific, I do have a faint
recollection that her first name was “Miss.” :) Thanks for sharing your
story; it’s lovely.
Guess Who
“I dance all around, thus I thrive.
I’ve learned the cool “quinary jive.”
“Never made a mistake.
In the grass, I’m no snake.
I’m so smart, I can count up to five.”
(hint: last Tuesday’s headline)
Sjaan: My first grade teacher was also “Miss” Someone
but I do remember 2 things. (2 randoms)
Looking back on the first grade, I guess
Does not bring me too much success.
Although, I recall
No one heard of a mall.
And mom always shopped in a dress.
Correction Of Above Limerick
Looking back on the first grade, I guess
Does not bring me too much success.
In those days, I recall
No one heard of a mall.
And mom always shopped in a dress.
If you find yourself shopping in Bombay.
There is a wig shop on display.
Admire their fine hair,
But first be aware.
It’s too high a price for toupee.
For Lisi’s “Guess Who” —
First, I studied your verse for its clues,
Then I pored over last Tuesday’s news.
“Limeriddles” intrigue,
But I’m out of my league.
I give up. I’m defeated. I lose.
“Go ahead, through my heart drive that stake,”
Sneered the Count; “It’s so cheap it will break.”
Van Helsing replied,
“There’s no need to be snide,
And it’s daytime — how come you’re awake?”
Hey Sjaan and Lisi!
Fräulein Langhardt, yes that teacher’s name
Lives in infamy covered with shame.
Without warning one day
Miss L. slapped me, oy vey!
First grade would be never the same.
I read in “The Sacred Heart News”
They’re doing away with the pews.
Cause the skunks ran away
To Mount Sinai today
And they all are converting to Jews.
There’s no warning for “seniors”, like I’m.
Not everyone’s vibrant and prime!
We run and we run,
And it sure isn’t fun.
Cuz we simply can’t get there on time.
This one’s better
There’s no warning for “seniors” , like I’m.
Long ago, we were all in our prime.
Now, it’s no use to run.
Cuz we never are done.
And simply can’t get there on time.
Centre-stage with their bent bars of steel;
The triangle band plays, with zeal.
Their legend’ry name
Rings through vast halls of fame;
“The Dingtones” (bar none) do appeal.
The Triangle player (Lars Warner)
With three girls; Lana, Lena and Lorner,
And a friend called Bojangles
(Who knew all the angles)
Made ends meet in their bar, on the corner.
Mad: This Limerick is to replace version at Aug 10. 6.47pm. Thanks.
The symphonic triangle-ist (Lars),
Stashes choc’late in three-sided jars.
To regain his prior zest,
Lost through pages of rest,
He devours three Toblerone bars.
Introducing my Rottweiler, Jake;
He just swallowed a rather large drake.
“Can I pat his back,
To see if he’ll quack?”
I think that would be a mistake.
Can’t rely on my knowledge you know.
Of mythology from Greece although,
To think it was fake
Would be a mistake.
It’s been my Achilles’ elbow.
If The Donald should feel his boots quake,
As he’s charged for his thieving “mistake,”
He’ll apply last-ditch measures,
To his boxes of treasures,
And claim all the stuff in them is fake.
Oh, Mom, I have wonderful news!
I’ll never again sing the blues.
I ran in a race,
Didn’t keep up the pace.
But I was the FIRST one to lose.
(Yeah!)
Same Stupid Kid
Oh, Mom, I have wonderful news!
I’ll never again sing the blues!
I hit a home run,
And the other team won.
But ours was the FIRST won to lose.
OOPS! Same Stupid Kid Who Doesn’t Understand Homophones
Oh, Mom I have wonderful news!
I’ll never again sing the blues.
I hit a home run,
And the other team won.
But ours was the FIRST one to lose.
(All Randoms).
When you run to the shop for your news,
Heed this warning to first don your shoes.
If you run around town
With bare feet wearing down;
Like the news, they’ll be all Reds and Blues.
Beware Which Muse You Use ~
Here’s a limerick that ends with a warning:
It has five random words, each adorning
the lines that I’ll chop
in my poetry shop
(and let me say first
this one isn’t my worst)
but you’re welcome to run
though the lesson’s not done.
A muse sometimes succumbs to suborning.
(I still haven’t found time to write any new ones, so heree are a few old ones …)
Count Dracula, taking a break
At a restaurant, made a mistake.
He ordered ‘filet’
As the dish of the day,
But they gave him instead a big stake.
They had burnt Joan of Arc at the stake,
And the French all complained “For God’s sake!
Meat that’s rare is good fun,
But she’s quite overdone –
You English don’t know how to bake.”
Three kings! I decided to stake
All I’d got, I was certain to make.
But the other guy saw me,
And laid down before me
Four kings! One of us was a fake.
I had ordered the chargrilled ground steak,
But they brought me some fish, maybe hake.
The waiter said “Sheet,
We done run out of meat,
So it’s that, or the chargrilled ground-snake.”
My career as screenwriter at stake,
I embarked on a splendid remake
Of “Gone with the Wind”,
But my last line was binned –
“My dear, I don’t give a corn-flake.”
My Random Word submission. . .
A warning on the newscast at 10:
There’s a run on some shops once again
that sell baby diapers.
But don’t get all hyper:
for us old folks there’s plenty. Amen!
When The Donald’s first questioned, forthwith,
Under oath he starts taking the Fifth.
This rhyme faulty may be,
But, alas, so is he.
Any news that says different is myth.
She said she could cook, she could bake,
But she lied, it was no mistake.
Her plan had no chance,
To cook up romance,
Love lost out to my tummy ache.
The host of The Weakest Link
Pretends to make a stink
About every mistake
The contestants make
Not knowing the answers herself, I think
Sjaan: Yes it is hard, (or should I say impossible) to rhyme “fifth” with anything. “Quinary” means fifth in rank or order. I had to look it up.
Whoever uses such a word, anyway?
The answer to my “guess who” is The Donald himself.
No wonder you didn’t get it!
First I tried to real slyly contrive
A verse with intention to drive
You insane; the fake news
Was a ruse about “Tues.”
And I trumped up the quinary jive.
(The devil made me do it:)
Good Grief. I just noticed I didn’t include “News,” so here’s the fix:
Beware Which Muse You Use ~
Here’s a limerick that ends with a warning:
It has five random words, each adorning
the lines that I’ll chop
in my poetry shop
(and let me say first
this one isn’t my worst),
but here’s the good news—
if you don’t like my views
you are welcome to run
though the lesson’s not done.
“A muse sometimes succumbs to suborning.”
Where we go to tint or chop the mop,
And gossip (it’s just the news we swap),
It’s mirrors and shears,
No men, so no fears,
Our first lifeline, ye olde beauty shoppe.
Here’s my random words limerick:
When I was a kid I drank pop
That I bought from the local sweet-shop.
Back home I would run
‘Cos I thought it was fun
When the fizz popped the cap off the top.
In the news and the investment scene
Clear glass coffins sure sounds pretty keen
First, all profits thus earned meant
I’d get rich from interment
Clear success? Well, remains to be seen…
The warning at first was bad news,
All wine shops might run out of booze.
So much was at stake,
I rushed out to slake,
My thirst at some bars with some brews.
Without warning our friends (with illation).
Corral us with running narration.
The desire that they spew,
Is for us to view.
Pictures, of their first stacation.
“Play Me” Neil Diamond
First, remember that you are the sun.
I’m hoping that you’ll never run.
For I am the moon,
And also the tune.
Please play me till our lives are done.
Mad is looking around for a pun;
Geez, I hope I can come up with one…
“Guy walks into a bar,
Breaks his nose — hardy har!”
Ah, voila! Now my day’s work is done.
Attention all Limerick-Off Procrastinators: The current Limerick-Off ends this Saturday, at 4 pm (Eastern time.) So please get your limerick stragglers in.
At first light in the blink of an eye,
They dropped out of a clearly blue sky.
Without warning they took
Some boxes; but look,
Would I lie to you? Never! Not I!
At the Beef Fest, south of Salt Lake,
An ambitious lass did partake.
She tried riding a bull
But her dress was too full.
They posthumously named her “Miss Steak”!
A death wish the vampire thought.
He could easily by his hand wrought.
So he fashioned a stake,
Not of wood (It was fake).
And attempts on his death were for naught.
All were wondering: where in the world
Were those classified documents squirrelled?
Here’s a cynical take:
With Trump’s future at stake,
They got flushed; down the toilet they swirled.
My golf games degraded with age.
It’s all relative, said a golf sage.
I’ve lowered the bar,
So very far,
That I had a good game by my gauge.
Bar and Randoms
The news of late claimed Single Malt
Was voted the drink to exalt.
Yet, I don’t feel it’s first
To slake my great thirst.
I take it with one pinch of salt.
Heads Up! Don’t walk into a bar.
Believe me, you won’t get real far.
Though your life will not end,
You will then have to spend
Eternity in the E.R.
Here is a modified version a previous limerick
from August 16th. Only in fun, of course.
“Dear Sjaan”
First, I tried to real slyly contrive
A verse with intention to drive
You insane; the fake news
Didn’t give any clues.
And I trumped up the “quinary jive.”
Eight to the bar (a boogie beat),
Chocolate bar, my special treat,
Bars of silver or gold,
A pub where beer’s served cold,
And horny young singles can meet.
Barbells for a stronger athlete,
The bar’s set high, a real tough feat,
Steel bars on a jail cell,
FUBAR means not done well,
Bar mitzvah when childhoods’ complete.
A salad bar keeps us petite,
Bar-B-Que meat smoked with mesquite,
I’m finally barred out,
But just one more to shout,
I passed the bar exam. How sweet!!
I laughed when I first heard the news
My ex was beset by the blues
She’s totally stumped
‘Cause she’s just been dumped
And drowning her sorrows in booze
“Drinks on me!”, Price the short guy did say
So we all started drinking away
He was so nice to share
The bar tab? Didn’t care…
Since we knew ’twas a small Price to pay…
In their shtick were two guys so immersed,
They rehearsed till they thought they would burst.
When the dry run was through,
Said the one known as Lou,
“Now I’ll never find out who’s on first.”
The drunken attorney Ken Starr
Despite problem drinking went far.
His youth was ill-spent.
He’d often lament
“How will I ever pass the bar?”
Don’t go shopping; it’s sure not a ball.
Let me warn you ’bout what I recall:
I just wanted one frame.
Each store looked the same.
It felt like I’d just seen a mall.
It’s always seemed almost unfair
To cook beef past medium rare.
I’ll never partake
In a well done steak
Without a great sense of despair
For Lisi: “Riddled with Remorse”
I was Googling clues for results;
I found stuff marked, “For Kids and Adults.”
Then I made a mistake —
I typed “quinary snake.”
Now I’m hearing from five different cults.
Let me tell you about our steak
Filet mignon or strip we make
T-Bone, flank or Swiss
Your really can’t miss
Huge Porterhouse, give me a break.
My Punny career has ended.
That game in the news sounded splendid!
First, I sent in 10 puns
The judge ruled which ones
Were great, but not one one pun in ten did.
First of all, it’s not news, that is clear.
I keep writing without any fear,
“Worry not,” said my ma,
“If it’s ‘funny ha-ha’
Or ‘funny peculiar’, my dear.”
An imprudent old glutton called Jake
Ate his way through a hundred ounce steak
And a bucket of fries
Of extravagant size.
They served salad, that’s all, at his wake.
When a golf player’s way Under Par,
Fair to say that he’s raising the bar.
But with Limbo I wonder:
Under Par means a blunder.
If you lower the bar, you’ll go far.
The Donald decided to take
All the classified docs, as his stake.
If he ran out of cash,
He could sell the whole stash
To his very good buddy, the Sheikh.
Grump’s talk is all drivel and jive.
He’ll duck, dive and wriggle and strive
To slide under the bar
That he’s lowered so far,
That a snake’s attempt wouldn’t survive.
Whenever I do hear a pun,
What’s the first thing I do? I just run.
Some folks think they’re funny,
But not for my money.
And vulgarities also I shun.
Thanks so much everyone for another fun Limerick-Off, which is officially over. And the winner is…
Limerick-Off Award 499. Congratulations to the winners!
But you can still have lots of limerick fun because a new Limerick-Off has just begun: Limerick-Off CHIP.