A poet who wrote greeting cards
Thought himself the greatest of bards
While not quite the strongest,
He did write the longest…
An ode on a sheet, length: nine yards.
Included in this poem’s scope
Was stuff he learned from the Straight Dope
He wanted to cry,
There’s no third word with -gry!
For some folks, there just isn’t hope.
“Sherlock Holmes once said that once you have eliminated the
impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be
the answer. I, however, do not like to eliminate the impossible.
The impossible often has a kind of integrity to it that the merely improbable lacks.”
– Douglas Adams’s Dirk Gently, Holistic Detective
While pondering the Oneness of Zen,
My satirical satori asks “what then?”
If I become one with all,
Am I not me, but y’all?
Or just GOD and those sharing my yen?
I thought Dopers to be creatively intrepid,
But response to this thread has been tepid.
Don’t be shy; no rules to it;
And bad spellers can do it…
See? A big spotted cat is a lepid.
Speaking of the ol’ yang and yin,
I notice a phenomenon herein:
Most entries (is it odd?)
Are from Satan and GOD;
I guess opposites attract, once again!
With poetry gifts that are stunning.
His talents are rhyming and punning,
From the top of his head,
(And I think that he said)
More than that, he’s linguistically cunning.
TennHippie, you’re causing some strife
With poems about sex and your life.
I admit I’m confused -
From threads I’ve perused,
I always thought GOD was your wife!
That Tennessee fellow is hip.
He’s quick with a comeback and quip.
But, no, God’s not his sister.
So maybe he missed her,
After all, when he blocked off that chip.
A favorite from Edward Lear (for 40 years):
There was an old man of Thermopylae
who never did anything properly
But they said “If you choose
To boil eggs in your shoes
You shall never remain in Thermoplyae.”
Okay, Shirley (I can’t believe I’m doing this):
There once was a man from Nantucket
Whose dick was so long he could suck it.
He said with a grin,
As he wiped off his chin,
“If my ear was a c_nt I could f_ck it”.
In one episode of Star Trek: TNG, when the ship is infected by a virus that makes people act drunk, Data begins quoting a limerick he heard over the intercom from engineering:
“There was a young lady from Venus
Whose body was shaped like a…”
Picard cuts him off by yelling for a status report or something.
Today’s contributions were clever:
A delightful poetic endeavor.
But I’m begging you guys–
Please don’t plagiarize!
If you do, then this thread I shall sever.
I’ve been reading this thread for a while,
Though limericks just aren’t my style.
But I’ll give it a whirl,
'Cuz I’m that kind of girl…
Nah, this sucks, so I’ll end with a smile
