Long Limericks Poems
Long Limericks Poems. Below are the most popular long Limericks by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Limericks poems by poem length and keyword.
A cousin named Chaos have I (he’s not actually my cousin. He’s like my aunt’s stepson, but I guess I can still call him a cousin, right?)
There’s nothing that he will not try (like the day he let all the chickens loose from the coop and they were running like chickens with their heads cut off. Isn’t that an expression or something? Chaos is crazy like those chickens were)
Since he follows no rule (He laughs at me because I try to write perfectly metered limericks and he thinks everyone should just write free and BE free in all they do.)
He got kicked out of school (it was so funny. He set off the fire alarm and all the kids were running every which way, much like those chickens he let loose in his barnyard. Now he is saying he wants to become an anarchist.)
So to anarchy school he’ll apply!
Gosh, he’s right. This limerick sucks. It’s much more fun having no restrictions, just letting my thoughts go anywhere I want them to take me, kind of like stream of consciousness writing or something. Too bad I can’t be all surreal-like, then I might make it into the newfangled modern poetry magazines. Most people don’t even consider limericks to be real poems. DANG it, I feel another one coming on.
Cousin Chaos, I now do hear tell
That you’ve found a new school, so learn well
Your anarchy ways.
In limerick phase
I’ll be stuck while you give people hell.
Crap. Even trying to write like Chaos, I just can’t do it. I just keep conforming to rules of poetry forms like limerick. I just know my cousin will be laughing his chicken head off when he reads this. Yeah, the old chicken motif again. Always relating things together. So much for Chaos! I’m outta here.
Written chaotically last week sometime for contest of same name
I check to see all that I need--
Some books and my favorite tweed--
Are all in their place,
My snacks in their case,
Now all I got to do is read.
I was on a holiday with Fred
“Let’s see who can pee farthest,” he said.
Imagine my surprise
When I opened my eyes
To find that I had peed on my bed.
I was at a beach with a friend
Admiring how the ladies bend.
Suddenly a fart,
I woke with a start--
My nose against my dog’s butt end.
I felt her hands putting some cream
On me as I lay near a stream,
Then, she’s on my head,
I fell off the bed--
I woke to find all was a dream.
It was a holiday indeed--
I went to places sans the need
To get off the bed
And fold the bedspread
As I lay with my favorite read.
November 1, 2024
Baguio City, Philippines
I dabble poetic in occasional rhyme
but remain obtuse and dull witted in haiku,
prone to my mistakes in cadence and lyrical crimes.
I fight iambic pentameter
and laugh at doggerels and limericks,
steering clear of epics and fixed formed teeter teasers.
Perhaps burlesque or lampoons should be my write
as I pen the words and phrases of heroic couplet
or narrative ballad best record of the knight.
Didactic, elegies, dirge and epigrams are a gain
still, I take a chance at each form to myself teach
but free verse flows readily and easily in my veins.
Alas, I write and take a whirling spin
at reading, writing poetry and poems each day
imagining the ah ha of poetry to begin.
Humpty-Dumpty wanted ride on road side view.
All the king’s horses were standing in a queue.
Humpty-Dumpty chose one,
In the last race that won.
All the king’s cats and kittens started calling mew-mew.
Jubilant Jack Frost wearing thin torn jacket
stepped on snow descending from a rocket.
chewed snow balls from a jug.
Sister Jill gave him hug.
Jack pushed Jill to snatch her snow ball locket.
On way Red Riding Hood met a wolf in white dress
wearing shiny soft woolly shoes with white lace.
Wonderful wolf named Wow-Wow
nodded its head and made bow.
Nice compassionate wolf tried to impress.
Alice was was wandering in wonderland
Weird happenstances ! Do you understand ?
She entered rabbit - hole
to slide and roll and roll.
She met rabbit to dance delight hand in hand.
Black Sheep peeps pushing bush beside pool,
when little boy is on his way to school.
Sheep eats green grass
always in huge mass.
It makes no wool but makes the boy fool.
(Cinderella)
Dainty slipper of glass shined in sun ray,
she had lost on her hurried run away.
Entranced prince made ardent vow
to find her somewhere somehow,
place it on her pretty feet come what may.
(Snow white and seven dwarfs)
She was lying in deep sleep, the prince found
her beauty was astoundingly profound.
He kissed her with perfection,
she woke up from dejection,
rare rapture she sensed for long all around.
(Alice in wonderland)
The Hatter was mad as much he could be,
handing round infinite cups of hot tea.
With puzzles and melody
they wandered along in glee
through the confusion, amusingly free.
(Sleeping beauty)
The prince found her asleep, face sweet with flair,
he kissed her with affection and with care.
She woke up with entranced eyes,
got filled with joy in surprise,
expelled the curse with flashy flicker rare.
: : : : : ( : : : : :
)
like Moses, the king of rods and storms
I once displayed my best fishing forms
sleek boat started to leak
the hooks went on a freak…
and landed in a field of dead worms
to save face, I hanged on a palm tree
holding two stoned tablets for last spree
fish and mollusks sneered
as sea creatures cheered…
till I roared… and parted the red sea!
©
-----------------------------------
*one of the commandments of the tablets read:
“ Thou shalt not laugh at neighbor’s foolish failed attempts..” :)
--- for John Moses Freeman's " Fishing Limericks"
and now, PD's Limerick Fu
by nette onclaud,
Dear Poetry Children
Born from a need
to be heard and understood,
my poems were at one time
like my children.
Their number was not large,
so they were precious to me.
Years passed, and then it seemed
I was almost grand-mothering
old stories and old feelings,
for they kept re-emerging
but in different ways.
Some came skating in iambic
as on and on and on and on and on
they came along.
Some could hang my moon
with the magic of metaphors
while many others
appeared plain-spoken
and crystal lucid like stars.
Others, feeling more like stepchildren,
appeared less rhythmically,
so different were they
from my firstborns;
I loved them all the same,
adopting their characteristics
as I experimented with my creations
more and more.
I took notice of and appreciated
other poets’ lovely children.
Meanwhile, new thoughts and
changing values and ideas
began to flow from me.
Small new poems
emerged from the womb
of my muse in the forms
of haiku, tanka, sijo, cinquain,
and so many others.
Laughingly, limericks arrived.
With sweet refrains came triolet,
rondeau, kyrielle,
villanelle, and quatern,
skipping right along.
It isn’t easy to continue
propagating poetry prolifically.
But as long as my mind
stays relatively fertile
with passion of sentiments and beliefs,
I’ll continue to bring forth
(sometimes with great labor)
The poetry children
I so much enjoy
creating in
my image.
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 was 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
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
One thing I've learned here on the Soup
The moods of the site ebb and flow
Depending on so many unknown factors
It can be fast and it can be slow
Response to our poems surely won't always
Predict the popularity of the piece
A great title, as I've suggested many times
Is key for the success of your release
I'm no expert but been a member since 2012
I've noticed some repetitive patterns
Limericks and other stuff can get attention
But simple rhymes it's praise they do earn
So what I have found since the beginning
To get read it helps to add humour
No need for words that no one understands
That's always been just a rumour
So simplicity rules and does every time
Main goal is to be understood
Communication is the word I'm looking for
In this poetry neighbourhood
© Jack Ellison 2015
Limericks written for St. Patrick's Day
Celebrate the Irish in ev'ry way
It's said in tales of old
Leprechauns buried gold
At the rainbow's end it was meant to stay
It's a day for dancing and wearin' green
Shamrocks in the hair of each colleen
To Erin Go Bragh, a toast
A holiday loved by most
But kissin' the Blarney Stone's not my scene
The Emerald Isle's heathered hills are lush
where on a Bonnie lass you'll have a crush
Walking on Dublin's shore
Or on the grassy moor
You can steal a wee kiss to make her blush
The seventeenth of March will soon be here
St. Patrick's Day arrives every year
Jameson~ take a swig
Then dance an Irish jig
Or imbibe Guiness with lots of good cheer
The time will come when this holiday ends
And I'll wish my days here I could extend
Irish blood flows in my veins
Here, part of my heart remains
I'll just sing Molly Malone and pretend.