Limericks Vii - Naughty, Bawdy, Risque, Absurd

Limericks VII - Naughty, Bawdy, Risque, Absurd There continue to be modern sequels of the famous "Nantucket" limericks, including this bawdy one of mine: There was a lewd whore from Nantucket who intended to pee in a bucket; but being a man she missed the damn can and her rattled john fled, crying: "f**k it!" —Variation on a classic limerick by Michael R. Burch There was an old man from Peru who dreamed he was eating his shoe. He awoke one dark night from a terrible fright to discover his dream had come true! —Variation on a classic limerick by Michael R. Burch Here are some lewd, crude originals: There once was a multi-pierced Bull, who found playing hoops far too dull, so he dated Madonna but observed, “I don’t wanna get married ... the things she might pull!” —Michael R. Burch There once was a forward named Rodman who said to his best man—“No problem! When I marry Electra, if the ring costs extra, just yank a loop right off my knob, man!” —Michael R. Burch A formidable pugilist, Mike, in a fit of pique called his mom “Dyke.” She frowned ear to ear, then said, “You listen here, I can still whip your butt, you dumb tyke!” —Michael R. Burch A cross-dressing dancer, “Dee Lite,” wore gowns luciferously bright till he washed them one day the old-fashioned way... in bleach. Now he’s “Sister Off-White.” —Michael R. Burch There once was a bubbly bartender, a transvestite who went on a bender. “So I cut myself off,” she cried with a sob, “There’s the evidence, there in the blender!” —Michael R. Burch Our president’s sex life—atrocious. His press briefings are all hocus-pocus. Politics—a shell game. My brief moment of fame— flashed by before Oprah could notice. —Michael R. Burch Bill Clinton's a man we admire; his opinion polls soar ever higher. He gets much more flack for a Big Mac attack than for his sexual high-wire. —Michael R. Burch There is a new term, “Clintonian,” which means, “Stop your naggin’ and moanin’. He’s only a man doing all that he can to put kneepads in the Smithsonian.!” —Michael R. Burch Time Out! by Michael R. Burch Hawking’s "Brief History of Time" is such a relief! How sublime that time, in reverse, may un-write this verse and un-spend my last thin dime! Time Back In! by Michael R. Burch Hawking, who makes my head spin, says time may flow backward. I grin, imagining the surprise in my mother's eyes when I head for the womb once again! Ghostbusters! Is Ogden Nash gnashing his teeth? Is his ghost rolling ’round in wild grief that the Post would make crimes of his “imperfect” rhymes? Call Ripley’s—it stretches belief! —Michael R. Burch NOTE: The Washington Post in all its great wisdom would ban Ogden Nash’s imperfect rhymes from its limerick contests! Low-T Hell by Michael R. Burch I’m living in low-T hell ... My get-up has gone: Oh, swell! I need to write checks if I want to have sex, and my love life depends on a gel! The Mallard by Michael R. Burch The mallard is a fellow whose lips are long and yellow with which he, honking, kisses his bawdy, boisterous mistress: my pond’s their loud bordello! The Platypus by Michael R. Burch The platypus, myopic, is ungainly, not erotic. His feet for bed are over-webbed, and what of his proboscis? The platypus, though, is eager although his means are meager. His sight is poor; perhaps he’ll score with a passing duck or beaver. There once was a poet from Nashville which hockey fans rechristened Smashville, but his odd limericks pulled so many weird tricks it’s lately been called Ogden Gnashville. —Michael R. Burch There once was a poet from Tennessee who was known to indulge in straight Hennessey for his heart had been broken and cruelly ripped open by an icy-hearted Lady of Paree. —Michael R. Burch There once was a girl with small boobs who would only go out with young rubes, but their c-cks were too small so she sentenced them all to kissing her fallopian tubes. —Michael R. Burch A coquettish young lady of France longed to have men in her pants, but in lieu of real joys she settled for boys, then berated her lack of romance. —Michael R. Burch A virginal young lady of France longed to have c-cks in her pants but in lieu of real boys she settled for toys & painted pinkies to make her bits dance. —Michael R. Burch The Vampire's Spa Day Dream by Michael R. Burch O, to swim in vats of blood! I wish I could, I wish I could! O, 'twould be so heavenly to swim in lovely vats of blood! The Hair Flap by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition" The hair flap was truly a scare: Trump’s bald as a billiard back there! The whole nation laughed At the state of his graft; Now the man’s wigging out, so beware! Stumped and Stomped by Trump by Michael R. Burch There once was a candidate, Trump, whose message rang clear at the stump: "Vote for me, wheeeeeeeeeeeeeee!, because I am ME, and everyone else is a chump!" Toupée or Not Toupée, That is the Question by Michael R. Burch There once was a brash billionaire who couldn't afford decent hair. Vexed voters agreed: "We're a nation in need!" But toupée the price, do we dare? Toupée or Not Toupée, This is the Answer by Michael R. Burch Oh crap, we elected Trump prez! Now he's Simon: we must do what he sez! For if anyone thinks And says his "plan" stinks, He'll wig out 'neath that weird orange fez! The Pelican't by Michael R. Burch Enough with this pitiful pelican! He's awkward and stinks! Sense his smellican! His beak's far too big, so he eats like a pig, and his breath reeks of fish, I can tellican! Trump’s real goals are obvious and yet millions of Americans remain oblivious. —Michael R. Burch Keywords/Tags: limerick, sex, naughty, risque, lewd, bawdy, vulgar, nonsense, verse, light, humorous, war, writing, poetry, poets, serious, limericks, humor, light poetry, light verse, nonsense verse, bawdy, salacious, ribald, risque, naughty, racy, spicy, adult, nature, politics, religion, science,