[Quincy Lehr]

CANTO XLV

With Usura is nobody blessed,
It buildeth no churches or nest—
As Ezra assures ‘em,
It’s CONTRA NATURAM
(Though maybe he’s slightly obsessed.)

[Terese Coe]

I'm Nobody
or, The Princess of Torn in Taxis


I’m Nobody and—as for you—
I assure you, I cannot Construe
The meaning of Proctor
But I need a Doctor
Unless You know how to Unscrew.

Terese



[This message has been edited by Terese Coe (edited May 14, 2006).]

[Roger Slater]

ULYSSES

A warrier known as Ulysses
went off, disappointing his Mrs.,
... for twenty long years,
... and she, through her tears,
refused all the suitors her kisses.

Or did she? Some gossipers claim
Penelope, being a dame,
... lacking men's armor
... let one or two charm her,
besmirching her husband's good name.

But no, she consumed the years sitting.
And waiting. And knitting and knitting.
... Her suitors unwitting,
... her nightly unknitting
postponed all their suits, as was fitting.

[Roger Slater]

Love Calls Us To The Things Of This World

I wake to the sound of a pulley,
my mind somewhat foggy and wooly,
... but soon love is calling.
... Okay, no more stalling.
I pop out of bed, wakened fully.

[Terese Coe]

The Traveling Onion

My onion is small and holistic
and tragic and functionalistic;
but diced with a blade
and then creamed and souffled,
I fear it's become nihilistic.

Terese

[David Anthony]

What an excellent and talented set of responses so far.

A few people have strayed off-topic and posted variations on a theme or else ripostes. Fair enough, I think. In some cases (eg Roger's "Trees") the result's a pretty good poem in its own right.

More importantly, I personally believe that limericks should conform strictly to their metrical convention to be successful. One or two people (no names, no pack-drill) have varied the metre and thereby lessened the impact, in my opinion.

Everybody's clearly recognised the importance of hammering home the incongruity, and I think the most successful efforts are those that add other incongruities, thereby further deflating their victims' bubbles. Examples are Roger's opening "Nightingale" ("cheep": brilliant!) and Jan's wonderfully contorted lime/I'm rhyme in his version of Trees.

Also I loved Robin's Beowulf--bloodlust and limericks are so delightfully incongruous--and Henry's Ancient Mariner ("doubtless you've heard it"--poor Coleridge must be turning in his grave).

Anyway, just a few chosen from so many fine efforts, and hoping to see many more.

Best wishes,
David

[C. Sharpe]

My favorite so far is Mr. Slater's Light Brigade limerick. The last line - "and did what they did, which was die" - is so flippant it literally made me laugh out loud. I also like the imperfect blundered/hundred rhyme. Merely summarizing a poem in five lines isn't enough to make the result funny. You have to inject your own wit.

Fun exercise. This might make a good theme for an issue of Folly.

[FOsen]

My post relates only to [off-color] limericks in general.

Robert Conquest has written some of the funniest limericks - many of them dashed off in correspondence. Zachary Leader's Letters of Kingsley Amis contains hilarious examples, along with equally funny efforts by Amis and Larkin. Many of Conquest's are in dialect:

A Welsh rugby player named Jeffrey
Said 'it's a pity that effry
Time we've a scrum
There's a prick up my bum,
I'm thinking of telling the refree.'

I had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Conquest a few months ago, and he shared 2 lines of a limerick he'd never completed. I took the liberty of adding to it, and he was gracious enough to say he liked the result:

There once was a man from New Yawk
Who said 'If my ballocks could tawk,
What a tale they would tell
For I've put them through hell,
By harpooning for crabs with a fawk.'

-- Frank

[Chris Childers]

Among School Children

I walked through a school-room one day
and dreamed about young Maud at play.
But she aged and lost weight, so
I thought about Plato.
Am I dancer or dance? I can't say.



[This message has been edited by Chris Childers (edited May 09, 2008).]

[Roger Slater]

La Belle Dame Sans Merci

La belle dame I kissed in the grot
seemed perfect at first. She was not.
... Our passion was deep
... but she lulled me to sleep
then left me alone on this spot.

The moral, I'm sure you’ll agree:
la belle dame was lacking merci,
... and no one should daily
... be loiterinng palely.
Oh learn from what happened to me!