Best Limerick Poems
My turds float like choc’late marshamallows
Just lurking about in the shallows
I guess that my butt
Is truly kaput
So doctor suggests bitter aloes
I questioned such treatment regime
Doc said it may keep my butt clean
Aloe on my finger
Won’t cause me to linger
And floaters will look like whipped cream
Doc chuckled and said “Listen here
Your floaters are nothing to fear”
Poop floats cos you’ve gas
Which is passed through your ass
No treatment’s required my dear.
DISCLAIMER - THIS IS NO REFLECTION ON THE STATE OF MY BOWELS JUST NEEDED A LITTLE LIGHTHEARTED RELIEF AFTER A VERY CHALLENGING WEEK
A desperate housewife I knew
had such mundane housework to do.
Being so tired of it,
she decided to quit.
Then off to Las Vegas she flew.
Having always been such a lithe girl,
she thought “I’ll give dancing a whirl!”
Her audition went well.
From a large oyster shell
She emerged, so they all dubbed her Pearl.
Her skin, soft and fair, shone like dew
as she smiled with eyes crystal blue.
All the men threw her money
as her voice, sweet as honey,
called out, “Let me entertain you!”
As Pearl danced each night, looking pretty,
Her husband, back in her home city,
was fit to be tied,
thinking maybe she’d died!
Poor fool didn’t have a clue, did he!
Unbeknownst to sweet Pearl, her “dear” spouse
had been sneaking off as she’d played house.
To conventions he’d said
he was going. Instead,
he’d been gambling in Vegas, that louse!
Off to strip clubs he’d gone every chance
that he got. How he loved to see dance
naked women all sizes
in sexy disguises
while his wife at home longed for romance.
Now the tables were very much turned.
And her husband was feeling quite spurned.
He would sleep restlessly
thinking where could she be!!
But her whereabouts he never learned.
No longer could he run away
on a whim. He still had bills to pay.
That cleaning and cooking
meant no time for looking
at girls! He had less time to play.
In Vegas, his wife had come far.
In fact, she was a superstar.
Wearing naught but a fan,
she’d entice every man,
then drive home in a pearl-colored car!
Her spouse lost his job. The years fled.
His wife he then had declared dead.
But with no job in sight,
he’d stay home each night,
with loneliness causing him dread.
Do you think this guy ever has let
his conscience feel any regret
that his wife did so much
while he gambled and such?
Has he learned anything at all yet?
Did he marry and get a new bride?
Did Pearl go and change her sweet ride
to a sleek red Corvette,
and did SHE marry yet?
I leave it to YOU to decide!
Written June 2016 for the Desperate Housewife Contest of PD
Her limericks posted on Soup
are full of the merits of poop,
of farts and of pee,
of laxatives' glee,
and hard ons - or those with a droop!
For my hilarious friend Jan Allison
JAN HAS A FAN
Jan Has no Tan
I once saw a gal called Jan
So sexy she made me ran
Straight to the vicar
Said marry us quicker
Whilst she drank her tea on the can
She is as White as pure Sand
I once met a gal in white dress
I fell straight in love I must confess
She was drinking her tea
While I stared at her knee
Surely my intentions she guessed
She Sips Her Tea Daily
I once met a gal drinking Tea
My heart was pumping in glee
From her nose to her toes
When she smiled I froze
So charming I become a devotee
While I Admire Her so Gayly
When I saw the lady in the white dress
My thoughts she I did undress
As she gazed out the window
She caught peeking Jimbo
Who was in quite the state of distress
I am a fan of the great poet Jan
There once was a gal who could fart
She refined it into an art
Her white dress in a breeze
Would lift till you sneeze
But she’ll always be my sweetheart
Notes: I just realized the title, as far as Jan is concerned , well could have a double meaning!
When looking for a quack with spiked rates
Some try the Windowed Office of Bill Gates
Coz right on the spot
He’ll give you a shot
But be prepared to accept his dictates
His business, Microshot, you may know
Needled itself ahead of every foe
With billions of bucks
To create deluxe
Vaccine versions 2, 3, and 4.0
Yet there are many who’ve come to razz him
And treat him with deserved sarcasm
Like those who’ve found
Themselves wheelchair bound
Though Gates claims it’s just a back spasm
Now Gates wants to vaccinate the planet
With help in tow this is how they’ll plan it
By changing genes
With secret means
Which to me sounds more or less satanic
Yet there are those who want to be first in line
To get their shot with a chaser of wine
Well here’s to their health
Or rather Gates’s wealth
Which must be baked in his evil design
But when at Bill’s door you hear the death knell
That is your vaccination alarm bell
For more than malware
Coz once in his lair
You’ll know why they call his shop ‘Gates of Hell’
A curvaceous lady named Mary
Just loved having sex in the dairy
When smothered with whipped cream
Her beau would lick her clean…
His Calorie intake was scary!!!
14th June 2016
Mara loves to steal from others
A skill well learned with no druthers
Paraphrase one word or two,
Hoping no one has a clue
Her poems formed from another's
Mara cannot hide behind her word crime
And pretending to, is a waste of time
Poems and words can be traced,
to a new plagiarism case
She needs to stop and find a new pastime
A man with a quiet demeanor
was cursed with a miniscule wiener.
He tried lotions and pills
But not one cured his ills.
Now he's a silent nail hole cleaner.
BY DALE GREGORY COZART
His todger though tiny still worked.
When he went for a wee it jerked.
He could still have full sex.
It was rather complex,
but when it was over he smirked.
BY JAN ALLISON
His wee-wee was indeed very wee
to the extent that no one could see.
When asked, “Are you a man?”
He replied, “Yes, I am.
You can follow up stream when I pee.”
BY DALE GREGORY COZART
Went out for a night with a hooker
Blonde but thick and no looker
When she saw his todger
Said my dog is bigger
You're taking me for a sucker
BY SEREN ROBERTS
A silent curse shrunk his wee to a teeny thing
I swear it is no bigger than a lil chicken wing
For sex a useless reject
Can't tell when its erect
We make jokes about his miniature ding a ling
BY MARTI
Wait a minute please, I won't tell a lie
isn't always small, it's big as apple pie
the winds were mighty chilly
affecting my poor old Willie
now you hurt my feelings, think I'm gonna cry
BY TIM SMITH
Big Bertha said, "It ain't the cubic inches
nope, the part for me what clinches
is strokes per minute
while they's in it
not a tool needs movin' with winches."
BY LIM'RICK FLATS
if you want join in the fun!
There was a lumberjack from Borehamwood
A chainsaw mishap took off his manhood
His Love life now a mess
And it caused him great stress
So he made himself one out of some wood .
~
He went to bed one night full of desire
Sue his wife put on her sexy attire
Things got steamy and hot
He gave it all he got
But with passion and friction it caught fire .
Written 5th March 2019.
For make me actually LOL 2 poetry contest
Sponsored by Nina Parmenter.
Forgive intrusion in the fray
I'm making comments today
Tom's limericks, three
were cute as can be
But of Kim and Jack, I must say.....
We all know how well Kim can write
She graces each page of the site
But limerick queen
Jan is a machine
There's no cause to argue or fight (all done in fun)
Limerick's have a syllable count
Ya can't use just any ol amount
Jack uses too many
His words aplenty
It's a problem he must surmount
It's the same with Shakespeare's sonnet
No matter whose name is on it
There's one Scotland Yard
And only one Bard
No imitators, doggone it
Don't get stalled with rhyme and meter
Sometimes prose can read much sweeter
Write what's in your heart
Poetry is art
Pick up your pen and don't teeter
No showdowns here; we're having fun
Put away your slingshot and gun
Not calling the law
Just havin' a jaw
Don't run me out of town...I'm done
When Dorothy and Tin Man were dating
She didn’t prepare for the mating
Til’ she heard a bang
And shouted out, “Dang,
Something inside there’s inflating”
Since Dorothy’s one chick he lusted
Poor Tin said he was disgusted
Coz there was no oil can
Nearby them at hand
To free up his zipper now rusted
As Tin was kissing Dorothy’s lips
He sadly knew he had to come to grips
‘Til she yelled, “My man
I’ll open your can
Coz in my purse I brought some tin snips!”
6 years ago, I wrote limericks about 5 PS poets. Today, I've posted
about another 5 and will continue to add more... before 6 years.
I tickled funny bones of five Souper men
So, I gave thought to trying it once again
In the order they replied
My sarcasm was applied
As I gently heckled them with ink and pen
First, Tom Cunningham, who "liked my collection"
To femme limericks he had no objection
But now it's his turn
Tom, forgive the burn
I heard you're headed for a house of correction
Jerry T Curtis said to "keep them coming"
But I think that lately he's been slumming
He's all aflutter
And starts to stutter
When his lady friend starts his heart strumming
Then there is the poet of romance, Tim Smith
His sweet words of seduction are not a myth
I know it to be truth
Don't ask me. It's uncouth
I don't kiss and tell so I'm pleading the fifth
John Gondolf said my limericks made him "chuckle"
His comments are always filled with honeysuckle
But if he wants a date
I'll have to castigate
I have a black belt in the use of my knuckles
"I needed smiles and giggles," said Greg Barden
His poems are flowers blooming in a garden
But some words are couture
Fertilized with manure
Now I guess I'll have to beg for Greg's pardon
The new additions...
Like a brother he comes to my defense
This man wears no guise and has no pretense
Mark Koplin, misunderstood
A modern-day Robin Hood
To me he shines with rays of effulgence
There's a man who took me under his wing
Says what he thinks. Doesn't hold back a thing
Danny Turner, my friend
A helping hand he'll lend
For offering kind words, he's a wellspring
David Kavanagh, true friend from the start
Encouraging advice, he does impart
Throws Monoku lines like spears
I raise a glass to him ~ cheers!
Loyal, his word. A man with a good heart
Canadian, Vaso, we don't see oft
Art doesn't come across as being soft
But has a tender heart
For countries torn apart
His poetic words should never be scoffed
His funny thoughts overflow in a Flood
Terry writes humor that's never a dud
Risque, and sometimes not
His stories have a plot
Rumor has it that he's known as 'The Stud'
Gentlemen, I ask forgiveness for this spoof
My humorous parodies should be the proof
That I like all of you
And don't mind if ya do
Get even in your own limericks of reproof
Now Santa is getting eccentric
His sleigh is now fully electric
He made Rudolph retire
Pressed the red button - ‘Fire’
His world then went totally hectic
He searched for a roof with snow clearing
And found a good landing site nearing
First attempt was a mess
He had no GPS
And no reindeer doing the steering
There was no choice; he had to go back
But he felt he was getting the knack
He then, feeling bolder
Looked over his shoulder
And demolished the next chimney stack
Rudolph, eating sprouts and not grass
Had seen these events come to pass
He helped Santa out
But ate one more sprout
And then put a flame to his ass
“By God, that’s one hasty arrival,
Could you please ensure my survival?”
And Rudolph said, “Sire
I shall stoke my fire,
But promise our team a revival.”
So up in the sky, roof to roof
Relying on sleigh-ski and hoof
Santa got his job done
With a smidgen of fun
And sometimes a butt going ‘poof!’
(The Contest)
I once knew a gentle poet boy
Pretending to be the real McCoy
He lost two in a row
This is no game show
At the end, I felt used by the playboy
(The cold rain)
I wish I could take back the HM
Don't know why you chose to condemn
I thought we were friends
Now I see through crystal lens,
How you think all your poems are a top gem
(Not a reason to hate)
I once knew a girl with heavy makeup
Behind her smile, her face was corrupt
She was in it for the race
Wanting all her poems to place
She did not win, now she's all worked up
SKAT
That he planned his funeral is factual
And being a prankster quite actual
He prerecorded his voice
So when we kneeled on the joist
He said, "Hi there! Don't I look natural."