The Muslim who once followed Allah
Discovered the books of Kabbalah
He now is a Jew
And to remain true
He traded his pitas for challah.
Once again someone thinks they are wise
By assuming they can just plagarize
A limerick so old
It’s covered with mold,
And not a real good one, huh guys?
In this rhyming sensation
I lost my orientation
Enchantment was ended
TennHippie offended
For which I request dispensation.
Anna, I know of the pain
That comes from marital strain
But Vronsky’s not right
This lust you must fight
Hey! Watch out for that train!
Well, I don’t intend to get Lippy
But I’ve got an edge on Tenhippie
At limericks he better,
A true-blue trendsetter,
But at least I get to read Zippy.
Livin’ on Tums, Vitamin E and Rogaine
Seven minutes, post to post. Not bad.
My reference was to the lady of Wheeling
With the knack for wetting her ceiling;
I know Loco means crazy,
But this time you got lazy:
In 6th gradethat joke had me reeling!
Hey Loco, don’t fret Hippie’s beration;
It’s not worth any lamentation;
I give you a nod;
(Note that I’m GOD)
Only I can give dispensation!
In this case GOD and I shall agree,
But with authority GOD’s a little too free.
Nietzche’s wrong: GOD’s not dead,
But I started this thread!
And GOD’s just a grander aspect of me.
It’s so human of you to insist
“GOD’s all mine” while pounding your fist.
It’s my diagnosis
I’m part of your psychosis:
The good part, which you can’t resist!
My limericks have received no praise
while others use moldy cliches
TennHippies are fine
but mine are sublime
I’ll be Limerick Laureate one of these days
The thing about limericks, Pooch:
One man’s poison is another’s hooch.
If it was written yourself,
Not pulled off a shelf,
Then tell critics your ass they can smooch.
The trick to the limerick, mostly
Is to make the words rhyme pretty closely.
This example is bad
But it’s all that I had
And make sure the meter drums along consistently.
Before you respond with hot pique,
Note tongue firmly planted in cheek.
Sarcasm’s the factor;
The limerick field’s tractor:
Without it, your crop will be weak.
I appreciate all your support
As I ponder TennHippie’s retort
His quick answer, touche
And he’s right, I must say
Only guarding the limerick fort.
That’s more like it, Mariachi.
You got the balls to play bocci.
Now you’ll get toasted
Instead of roasted
On the BBQ Pit’s Hibachi.
I put this off long as I could.
A lim’rick thread was simply too good.
I thought I’d pop in,
And right out again,
But I write when I should be in bud.
G’night.
In the Pit I’ve never been flamed
By Roasters I’ve never been named
And that’s just as well
They can all go to hell
For my vitriol’s very well tamed.
When I posted that I was due a review
I was hoping a metric war would ensue
I boasted I was better
Rattled my metric saber
and delivered a limerick kung fu
Pooch, you want to compete
With TennHippie for the number one seat.
So hold back? You must never,
And you have to be clever,
And pack your poetry full of some meat.