Fire Limerick Poems | Examples
These Fire Limerick poems are examples of Limerick poems about Fire. These are the best examples of Limerick Fire poems written by international poets.
Trump’s top gun that has been tariff
That caused him to skid off the cliff,
He, unwise of its woes,
Gung ho, gaga who goes,
Still hopes for vain waah and taarif!
Now, his move gone haywire,
On reverse gear, rear fire,
Mighty worried he’s of what if.
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Happenings | 13.09.2025 | USA, humour
Note: waah (Hindi) translates as bravo, well done, and taarif (t pronounced soft) translates as praise, admiration, approval
for-More Than A Soft Toy Poetry Contest Sponsored by: Natasha L Scragg
there once was a child from Adelaide,
who had a teddy called Marmalade.
taking each other by the hand,
they roamed imaginations land:
there, they never turned scared or afraid.
this world they only had each other,
no mother, father or big brother.
on a tandem they would ride,
or they`d walk side by side;
in this world for two, and no other.
they fought a fire breathing dragon,
and rode in an old cowboys wagon.
played with a stegosaurus,
hand fed a brontosaurus;
then fought another fiery dragon.
they took a rocket ship to mars,
and flew all around shining stars.
met a Martian green,
who was kind, not mean;
so took him, in their big space car.
adventures must finally end,
when the sleep fairy calls you friend.
she will take you by the hand,
to enter into her land;
then you`ll say, a happy amen.
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#Adelaide is a city in Australia
From a loud-mouth, world’s cease-fire arranger
To desperate man as if in manger,
Who when naught was rendered,
Panned, having surrendered,
And what is worse than that,
For a rival to bat,
Dubbed as salesman and Putin’s messenger!
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Happenings | 37.08.2025 | USA, humour
Note: Meeting between Trump and Putin in Alaska. Boasts galore and no more boats to reach the coast across! Putin conceded little, trump ceded his boasts, reduced from being a realtor president to a salesman and messenger to relay Russian terms to EU and Ukraine. But the deal maker that he is, Trump might still get Russian oil to flow in the world easing prices, access rare earths from Ukraine, and his coveted Nobel peace prize.
Sickle speckled like deckles of beef
Girl freckled gave my pickle relief
She pecked on my schmeckle
Like Heckle and Jeckle
Then deep beneath erupted a queef
It grew and blew my shoe out to sea
But soon I knew was coming for me
As the gas flew higher
It lit my ass on fire
A Roman Candle I seemed to be
Flame stung the cats, it cut 'em like knives
Wind flung the rats, they ran for their lives
Red turds swelling the eye
Dead birds fell from the sky
The news predicts that no one survives
I know her well, and she knows me too well,
the way we two talk, the whole town can tell,
ten years wed, fire she spits,
drives me crazy, out of wits,
how wedding cakes can change heaven to hell!
Butterless flies flutter by
and dragons without fire fly.
Over and under,
curious wonder.
Nature’s tricks do mystify.
There once was a sensitive vicar,
who said, "I'm not one to bicker,
but the peal of that bell,
makes me feel quite unwell,
and plays merry hell with my ticker."
An incensed old soul by the spire,
preaching incense-igniting to the choir,
exclaimed, "There is but one catch,
when striking a match,
don't set your surplice on fire."
A parson spoke from the nave,
"Spend all you can, do not save,
if you've spilled all the sands,
and still have time on your hands,
you can't take it with you to the grave."
A wise minister in the kirk,
enlightened, observed with a smirk,
"When it's dark out there,
put your hands in the air,
as many hands make light work.”
Can readers or authors foresee
Freed up manic moods and more glee?
Mixed-up word orphans
Induce endorphins
Without a psychiatrist’s fee
OR
What do poem authors desire?
Freed up manic moods and less ire!
We rhyme word orphans
To boost endorphins
So psychiatrists we can fire
She's the hottest girl I've ever had
Wet head to toe and scantily clad
I felt flames of desire
But I put out her fire
That's what my Mom said about my Dad
Guess acorns don't fall far from the tree
She explained why when talking to me
You're a really nice guy
And you gave it a try
But it takes more time than one...two...THREE
Purim Theorem!
Rambam holds Hashem is math,
Hashem does not take a path,
Like “Squaring the Circle”,
Such is illogical,
Yet the Zohar differs on Hashem’s craft!
Witness the Aron anomaly,
Giving rise to a homily,
Finite length & width yet zero volume,
Boggling the mind, yielding it solemn,
Evoking Emunah more than normally!
Size yet no volume?
Anomaly! as in Shalom,
Moshe saw that the “Burning Bush”,
Was unconsumed, he didn’t silence: Hush!,
Risking ridicule, courage to be alone!
Moshe saw water & fire combine,
Hashem’s Shalom nonintuitively align,
Illogic surprise from mire,
Despair be gone! Lost? A Divine sign!
Purim, 339 Before Common Era,
Hashem again was a true “Chevra”,
Upending Haman’s goose,
In a long necked noose,
Saving the Yidden from an evil schema!
Arrogance vanquished,
Anomaly? Yes by logic languished,
Expect the unsuspected,
Human reason dissected,
Headstand of man anguished!
“Shemayim’s” Burning Bush is a hymn,
Let the “Olam” Hear Him,
Again no novelty,
“Chiddush” renewal, an end to “Evilty!”
All Adds Up to Purim Theorem!
There once was a poet so dire,
Whose verses set readers afire.
With chaos unbound,
No rhythm or sound,
They called it a dumpster fire!
With my girlfriend in tip top condition
To film sex scenes for late television
She got sick in bed
So I went instead
And was heckled with spiteful derision
Well their laughter had made me feel silly
As I stood there butt naked and chilly
They said, “Get a hair dryer,
Or an electric fire,
For you sure need to warm up that willy.”
The director called three naked geezers
Who he said were real audience pleasers
Then he looked at my lot
And said, “Let’s get this shot,
With my new close up lens… and some tweezers.”
Grabbed a sock and ran home in the nuddy
And I tripped in a field, wet and cruddy
But I’d slipped on the sock
So my girl got a shock
When just one bit of me wasn’t muddy
*
That’s my self respect gone for a burton…
Then the morning sun shone through my curtain
I awoke in my bed
“Only dreaming,” I said
But I took a quick peek to be certain
To sell smart trash bins a man George did hire,
but loss loomed large, put him in dumpster fire.
He promptly fired the dumb man,
became a keen garbage fan,
saved his business going downright haywire.
The queen of rubbish raised her man’s ire
By not calling the king of trash, sire
She just refused
His ‘Royal Refuse’
So he raged into a dumpster fire
For Dumpster Fire Contest
In a dumpster at a house close to me
were the contents of a home bourgeoisie.
In the night, it caught fire,
which did fill me with ire;
was gonna dive for a velvet settee!