There once was a man from Niagara
whose wiener's so long it would stab ya'
but when it got little
his pills became skittles
until he O.D.'d on Viagra
© ~JSLambert 2011*****A classic "stiff" competitor, standing "firm" amongst other "members" in the "thick" of the competition:) hope everyone gets "a rise" out of it!
~ Hung on to the rod, lettin' my arms ache;
Those anglers spin yarns, knew their tales fake.
Here the fish don't bite,
Or the lure they do not sight.
Daddy all beans, a huge fish we'll home take.
~ "You ain't no addle pot; patience, my fay.
A hog killin' time we'll have fur sure," he say.
Up gulls they screechin',
They all come fishin'.
We no match, nary a fish we'll catch!.. Nay!
~ Suddenly, the water whooshed in a spout.
My quiverin' line had bite, ain't a doubt.
Reel in, reel in;
No slack, pull the fish in.
Rod with reel, away flew the biggest Trout!
8th place in the contest
For john freeman's contest : "Limericks About Fishing"
I wish I could be a fly on the wall,
When my poor old mother gets the phone call,
“He’s here at the bar
Quick bring us your car,
Your husband just got in a brawl”
From the town of Murlin lived Gwen
Up wee hours in night with fountain pen
Were the days before computers
Father hired expensive tutors....
Failing English, and father,…. AGAIN!
Written for Poet Destroyer’s Slick Limerick Contest~3rd Place~
An Almost True Limerick by Gwendolen Rix
There once was an old man from Thomaston
Who said old rats like cheese like young rats, son
~~My favorite shoes sport rat~~
~~Who eats chunk cheese where he sat~~
Constant reminder of old man with pun
(About a year before my father died at age 96,
we went to a funeral and a lady of about 38 to 43
years old escourted him from the family car to the
cemetery..The farther they walked the more he
leaned into her..My husband said something to him
about it..He said old rats like cheese just like young
rats..I found a pair of pj with shoes with the rat and
cheese..Always a reminder of my father..)
He’s sorry and wished it undone
But dad’s home—there’s no where to run
The spanking's intense
Father never relents
And imprints his hands on his son
When we look outside
we can see many things
We dream about what we see
We try to get the things we see
There will be competition and envious
to get the things and we aim high
and we forget about who we are.
When we look inside we just see
the opposite of what we see outside.
When we look into ourselves it is easy to find
who we are and what is our purpose of our life.
When we look inside we see the good and bad things,
right and wrong things clearly and able to distinguish.
We are in peace and love when we look inside,
when we look outside we do not have the time,.
because we are rushing to get the external things
When we are really awaken we try to look inside,
and lead a healthy peaceful and happy life.
Had a glass of wine to blend with the crowd
things got out of control, a bit loud
kept thinking Jesus sipped
probably didn't get so lit
I bet thats how they stained the shroud ! ?
3rd person of coarse/no disrespect/lol
To the proud parents, Anna and Theo
A serious lad, silent and thorough
A clan of preachers
And dealers of art
From the southern Netherlands came Van Gogh
When sent to school, he did not want to go
The separation led to much sorrow
But he learned to draw
Whatever he saw
Sent off to sell art in Paris, Van Gogh
His happiest time, and now in love, oh
Till the landlady’s daughter told him no
Now a broken heart
Surly to sell art
Fired from his job in Paris, Van Gogh
Vincent sought out a coal miners’ burrow
A priest of sorts, but a squalid fellow
The church was appalled
And cursed his resolve
To the asylum for crazy Van Gogh?
His father baffled, on the verge of foe
Art interest, once again, began to grow
Back to school again
This time, in His name
To paint in the service of God, Van Gogh
School’s out, back to his parents he would go
Using neighbors as subjects to ditto
Proposed to his cousin
Which she found disgustin’
Burning his hand to see her, holy Van Gogh!?!
Now off to The Hague, a family furlough
To live with Sien, a boozing bimbo
A man to see ya…
Three weeks in the hospital for Van Gogh
The pain of loneliness drove him back home
Once again, a failed love with fair Margot
Then Vincent’s father died
He grieved deeply inside
The tragedy further refined Van Gogh
Finally, Vincent’s work was in the know
“The Potato Eaters” made an art show
Just add more color
Said his dear brother
Rubens brightened the dark gloom of Van Gogh
Vincent’s diet: coffee and tobacco
Mixed with absinthe began to take its toll
Though he kept on painting
Then Paris, more training
The end was getting closer for Van Gogh
The masters: Monet, Degas, Pissarro
Cezanne, and Seurat in his studio
Influenced his style
Learning all the while
That time was running out for Mr. Van Gogh
Then he moved to Arles, bad health in tow
Completing great works the whole world would know
“Sunflowers” (in vase)
“The Café Terrace”
Minus one ear, the frail, ailing Van Gogh
With his tattered mind, and mournful woe
Committed to the asylum, Mausole
With his final works
“The Church at Auvers”
“Starry Night” was painted in pain, Van Gogh
“At Eternity’s Gate”, he was sorrow
Wandered into a field, farmer’s fallow
Put a bullet in his chest
In hopes of peaceful rest
“The sadness will last forever”, Van Gogh
Limerick : Once a Lonely Grand-Dad in a Log-Jam
Once a Lonely Grand-Dad in a Log-Jam
Paid an urgent visit to a Grande-Dame*
She lifted the stuck log
During Pea-Souper smog
Damn ! Got carried down Grand-Dad Rapids – Wham !
* Dame : pronounced as in French
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013