Roses are red
Violets are blue
Some poems rhyme
And some don’t
Roses are reddish,
Violets are blueish –
If it weren’t for Christmas
We’d all be Jewish.
(Told to me long ago, by a dear [Catholic] work colleague. Theologically suspect; but, for me, irresistibly silly.)
Little boy blew.
Hey! He needed the money.
Pretty sure this one was in National Lampoon many years ago.
Under a spreading chestnut tree
The village idiot sat.
He rolled his eyes and flapped his lips
And jerked off in his hat.
ETA: I guess that’s not actually a nursery rhyme, it’s a Longfellow poem. Oh well.
I heard it as a limerick:
Under the spreading chestnut tree
The village idiot sat
Amusing himself
By abusing himself
And catching it in his hat.
This one is by Ogden Nash, I think. Or someone suitably Nashian.
Mary had a little car,
It was painted red.
Everywhere that Mary went,
The cops picked up the dead.
By D. Trump, I assume?
The version I heard at camp had two verses:
*Jack and Jill went up the hill
to smoke some marijuana
Jack got high, unzipped his fly,
and said, “Jill, do you wanna?”
Jill said yes, unzipped her dress,
and then they had some fun
but stupid Jill forgot her pill
and now they have a son*
As a very sheltered teen, I was completely scandalized. (And yet, while I forget countless things of actual importance, I still remember that ditty to this day).
See-saw, Margery Daw,
Johnny’s a slow little fucker:
He can’t meet modern standards: screw “penny a day” –
Let him starve unto death, the cocksucker.
Mary had a little lamb,
His fleece was black as soot,
And into Mary’s bread and jam
His sooty foot he put.
We were all over alternate Mary poems at school.
Mary had a little lamb,
She tied it to a pylon.
A thousand volts went up its bum
And turned its wool to nylon.
Mary had a little lamb
It used to jump so high.
It jumped into an abattoir
And now it’s in a pie.
Mary had a little sheep,
and with the sheep she went to sleep.
The sheep turned out to be a ram
so Mary had a little lamb.
Little Jack Horner
sat in the corner
eating his sister Mary.
He stuck in his thumb
and pulled out a plum
and said “Hey, dig this crazy cherry!”
The boy stood on the burning deck
His heart was all a-quiver
He gave a cough, his leg fell off
And floated down the river.
The boy stood on the burning deck
His pocket full of crackers
A spark went down his trouser leg
And blew away his knackers
The boy stood on the burning deck
His feet were full of blisters
The flames came up and burned his socks
And now he wears his sister’s
The boy stood on the burning deck
Whence all but he had fled.
Twit.