2017 metamorphosism.com St. Valentine’s Day Limerick Contest

valentine2016

This year’s contest is closed. Thanks to all entrants, and all visitors.
I originally planned to announce the winners earlier, but then I got busy at work, and when I got home I had to make a couscous/vegetable dish that seemed as if it would go quickly, but involved a lot of peeling and chopping so here we are.

The winners:
First of all, our sincere appreciation here at metamorphosism.com to everyone who entered. Everyone had sweet dispositions this year despite a few abrupt but unavoidable random (but mostly minor) rule changes, and there was no fighting or bickering, which was a big relief. So thank you, dudes, it was a lot of fun reading your poetry.
Before I continue: should the entry period be longer next year? It seemed to flash past this time, but maybe I’m just getting older, old people are always talking about how fast time goes by. Or maybe I was just busy (I was). Are two weeks enough? Would three weeks be better?

Ok, the winners:
First of all, to each entrant I say: we should get together for a coffee or a drink or something sometime.
Okay.
By the way, when we were in Ireland early last year, my wife and I – my wife is investigating our ancestors and we hired a genealogy butler and she claimed to have found the village my Irish ancestors came from, a few miles outside Limerick.
Where else could they possibly have come from.
It felt like in that one movie where the cities fold up only it was generations of my family history, folding up neatly on themselves.

Ok, anyway, the winners:
Oh, PS: do you think the creepy little clown drove people away? I thought it sort of captures the shadow side of the holiday, you know? But maybe that is better left to the limericks instead. I’ll try to have a more attractive graphic next year.
Ok.
Here we are:
Honorable mention goes to Cj for an autobiographical work about having Georgia on your mind. NICE TO SEE YOU AROUND AGAIN CJ!!! Have fun in Tbilisi.
Third place goes to TH who is apparently saving those worse limericks he was working on for next year’s contest. See you next year TH (if not before).
Dee gets the silver medal: three really fine limericks and hit a lot of the bonus themes as well. I was really happy to see you contributing, Dee.
Perry Iles takes first place this year, due only secondarily to one of the secret rules of this contest (“Perry always wins”) and primarily to both the quality and quantity of his entries, and his admirable ability to turn on a dime and incorporate new bonus themes as they arise, and also his occasional fucking with scansion, which made me LOL.
See you all next year. Thanks again!

Welcome to the 2017 edition of the metamorphosism.com International Limerick Contest.
Please leave your entries in the comments to this post.

Enter as often as you like.
This year’s theme: CURRENT EVENTS, plus bonus themes to be added as the contest progresses
All participants, new and seasoned veterans, are encouraged to consult the combined FAQ/rules below BECAUSE THEY CHANGE WHILE THE CONTEST IS GOING ON.
No one knows why.
FAQ/Rules

  • Does it have to be a limerick? YES. This is strictly enforced, and non-limericks will not be accepted. Google proper limerick form if you are not sure.
  • How do I enter? POST YOUR ENTRY OR ENTRIES in the comments to this post. Click on comment, or whatever is down there, and add a new comment.
  • When is the deadline? THE DEADLINE is 14 February 2017
  • Do you mean 12 midnight on the night of the 13th or midnight on the night of the 14th? And which time zone shall have seisin of jurisdiction? We have had considerably confusion in the past! NINE AM (CENTRAL EUROPEAN TIME) 14 February 2017.
  • Oh by the way, I have a Quince tree on Cranes Lane. I think I should get a multiplier for that fact. No, sorry, that was last year. Secret multiplier in place.
  • Is there a prize? NOT YET but that might change.
  • Is there a limit to how often I can enter? NO. Enter as often as you like. The more often you enter, the better your chances.
  • HOWEVER ONLY ORIGINAL ENTRIES ARE ACCEPTED. PLAGIARISM RESULTS IN DISQUALIFICATION. No exceptions made for members of the First Family.
  • Can entries be bawdy? YES, absolutely. These are limericks, they can be bawdy, gross, you name it. It’s not required, but it is in the nature of the genre. ALSO: this is for St. Valentine’s Day so points awarded for love/romance/sex-related poetry.
  • Complaints will be deleted. There is no avenue of appeal. Decisions of the judges are final. Be nice, and have fun, and don’t take this too seriously.
  • Is there anything else I can do to be deleted? Yes. Besides complaints, anything else that is not a limerick will also be deleted, especially anything remotely similar to trolling, nastiness or disagreeing with me. That will get you deleted, and whatever else our technicians here can think up. This is meant to be a fun, light-hearted, non-political past-time.
  • Let’s see, what else? Oh yes.
  • Bonus points are awarded for inclusion of themes listed below (No limit to how many themes you may include, the more the better):
  • Last-minute addition: Scottish insults (particularly in combination with USAmerican politics..)
  • Current events i.e. tacky kakistocracy, apocaplexia, alternative facts, Trump, etc etc etc think of it as catharsis.
  • Use of the phrase “tacky kakistocracy” or something even better
  • Utopian visions
  • Musical genres (see here for ideas, thanks Carola!)
  • Cormac McCarthy, Don DeLillo, William Gibson et al
  • Field dependence vs field independence
  • Quantum theory
  • The Tibetan Book of the Dead
  • William S. Burroughs
  • Funeral planning
  • (More themes to come, watch this space.)
  • By entering you grant metamorphosism.com permission to publish your entry electronically on metamorphosism.com, in social media (including but not limited to twitter.com, facebook.com and anything else) as well as in book form, although the latter is REALLY unlikely, without compensation (this is a non-profit venture, and any possible, although unlikely, book would be, you know, for charity most likely).
    AS ALWAYS, RULES ARE SUBJECT TO CONSTANT CHANGE DURING THE CONTEST, SO CHECK BACK OFTEN.

    Now, get cracking.

My banana is freezing

What are you doing for the inauguration?
I broke into my own house. I forgot my keys at work, and the cats were locked in the house and hungry, and the organic vegetable delivery was outside behind the house, and it is freezing cold now, and driving back to work to get the keys would have taken 90 minutes so I had to figure out a better plan.
So I asked myself, WWMWTMTD?
What would my wife tell me to do?
So I broke in.
I’m not going to say how, maybe a burglar is reading this. It took me about 2 minutes; Gamma used to do it when she was in grade school and forgot her keys somewhere so it’s either not exactly hard or Gamma and I are natural burglars.
I figure a professional burglar could do it in way less time than that.
Then I fed the cats and got the vegetables into the house and ate some organic fruit.
My banana was freezing (not a euphemism).
Later I will give old red cat his dementia pill.
Other red cat gets antibiotics daily. I wrap those pills in bacon.
Bacon is his favorite.
They are easy to remember because he gets them every day.
Old red cat gets his once every two days, so I get mixed up and forget to give him his dementia pills, which is ironic, LOL.
He either sleeps or stares at his water dish, so it’s hard to tell if they’re helping.
Right now he’s sleeping, and I hate to wake him up to give him a pill.

Sources

The original plan was
to make this a text where
a historical event shed
metaphorical light
on a current situation
or condition
but minimal research
made it clear that one
had nothing to do
with the other.

Thanksgiving

I am thankful for my wife and kids and the rest of my family, and all of you, and for this awesome planet of ours, not to mention universe and the sciences, which are really great sciences, the best.

And the arts, seriously.

This year, I am additionally thankful for our new post-fact society, thanks to which I am now extremely handsome and funny, not to mention smart and – surprise! – long legged and adorned with a sixpack and giant schlong. My hair is not thinning, and the hearing aids are a thing of the past.

Now, when strangers see me on the street, they think Most Interesting Man in the World, and not Santa Claus or Kenny Rogers.

Thanks to our post-fact society, I light my cigars with $50 bills and my cigars are from Cuba, my friend, because I am alt-rich or something.

Thanks to our post-fact society, limousines slow down in the street so their passengers can lean out the window and give me high-fives and bouncers give me fist bumps.

Now, global warming is a business opportunity, not terraforming for aliens who swim in acid and breathe carbon.

Now, there’s enough for everyone, as long as they’re not lazy.

Thanks to post-fact society, everything’s great again.

Everything.

Just great. Thanks to whoever invented this!

Some days Omi is just on the floor

Some days it is a crow wanting your lunch, and some days it is a Slovak home care lady wanting you to help get Omi onto the toilet.
Some days the rain stops and it clears up and you take a walk through golden leaves, buy lotto tickets and salty fruit-nut mix (with rhubarb pieces), take pictures of the sky and the roads are quiet, abandoned, and the sidewalks empty except for a crazy man screaming and another crazy man slinking back and forth up the street and, later, a small lady you cross the street to avoid because you try not to scare women if possible.
Some days the small lady crosses the street too, though, back over to meet you, and walks up to you and asks for help and you realize she had been on the street looking for help but the street was empty but for you.
And you say, sure, what do you need?
I need you to help me get Omi back up. I dropped Omi. There’s nobody else in the house and no one else on the street.
She just slipped through my hands and I (here she gestures to herself, a gesture that emphasizes her lack of size) am small. Too small to pick her back up.
Ok, you say. Sure. You follow her into the house, one of the mansions that line the street. Briefly you think, there could be robbers.
No, vampires.
If you were a vampire and got hungry during the daytime, you’d ask your minion to go invite someone into the house.
You imagine David Bowie and Catherine Deneuve inside the house.
She ushers you up the stairs and into an apartment and into the living room and you wonder, how does one lift an old woman in a hospital gown with no pants on without hurting her or her dignity or your back?
You take one side and the helper takes the other side and you try to do what she does and you get Omi onto the toilet, which is a chair with a cut-out part for a bedpan.
You aren’t sure how much of what is going on Omi understands, to what proportions she is confused or mortified or flustered or resigned or what.
The helper thanks you and you step around the diaper and wish them a nice day.
The streets are still empty, still no crows, all the way back to the office, not a one, nor a dog.

I’m automatically be it’s like a magnet

tangerinedream03

Here is what I did: I took the lyrics of two Tangerine Dream (random choice of band) songs (“Loved by the Sun” and “Kiev Mission” (no special reason)) and the NYT transcript of some things D0n4ld Trump said that recently became notorious and mashed them up in the Hay Kraynen Markov text generator.

I then spent minimal time cleaning up the text (sometimes it gets a little bit mangled in a Markov text generator). Those of you with synthesizers are welcome to use this for your next recording project. If you do, please send me a copy.

Only lightning strikes all the seasons
(spoken) Melania said this was down one of us as a date.

Who sing her, it’s, it’s here, come on shorty.
I’m automatically be it’s like a magnet.
Just kissing her.
You know and forever
Loved
Whoa.

I did try and I moved by the meeting them.
It’s hot as shit. In the good in man, yeah,
that’s, it’s still very beautiful — I just start kissing them.
It’s totally be in my microphone.
It’s some Tic Tacs just start
Legends can be now and (completed)
To be absorbed in the good
if you had to take one of us as a beautiful.

Look at the way, honey. Oh, good.
Hello, how are you.
Terrific. You know, that’s better.
This is much better not be they had a reach for goodness sake
Legends can be now and two go do our show.
Oh, you want.
Grab ’em by the start

You knows
Message
Communicating with friends
To exchange views
Boundlessness
Maybe it’s her. With the bus.
Bushy, Bushy.
Hello, nice co-star here.
Yes, absolutely.
Good.
Continent
Future
World
(that is torn apart

Legends can be now and forever
Teaching spells
Only light. Here we good in man.
Yeah, let’s, it’s like a right there is much between one.
make a right. Here we go.
Make meeting of all that’s a different one.
It better.
This always good legs.

No, no, Nancy. No, it’s better.
Now, if you. How are you? Pleasure right, you are a start
In the wise, there
World
(that’s singing
Hand in the gold. I don’t get in the music of all of love’s eternity
Whose shines so bright
The thought reader knows
Message
Communicating of youth, was married. Then all right
Hand in thought there is the middle.
It’s, it look.

She used to be a soap star,
thank you. Terrific.
You know and with friends can be now got off
the meet you when you’re a pussy.
You know and for good in man, yeah.
Oh, good.
Come on, Billy. You know, she was married.

Two and the bus.
Bushy, Bushy? I just start kissing all the handle.
Let the beginning is at the little hug, darling?
O.K., absolutely.
Good, that’s better.

This is the seasons
Only lightning strikes all the seasons
Legends can be now and even wait.
You know, she’re ready to loved by the seasons

Look at the mystics plays it’s cards
all of all I can see is hope the Fifth on that
is the little guy in?
How you do it. You knows
Boundlessness
Message
Communicating with friends
To exchange views
Boundlessness

Practice

(Trigger warning: violence against old ladies)

Last night, I kicked an old lady in the belly.
In my defense she was crowding me.
I thought I just got her leg or something.
It didn’t feel like a belly.
It felt like a leg, or a foot.
And when I was hanging at the end of the lane wiping fog off my goggles and she told me what had happened, I said “I’m sorry.”
Those exact words.
In my defense the pool was really crowded and people in the Austrian pools I’ve experienced have no pool culture.
Normally, you have a lane and you swim laps in it clockwise or counterclockwise.
In a systematic fashion, in other words.
In this pool last night, the left half was being used by kids training for some team and the lower half of the right half was full of very large persons with neoprene gloves standing around for a fitness class, and everyone else was sort of swimming around in what was left over.
Not that it really matters. I also feel uncomfortable in a pool with strict lanes, because what George Carlin says about driving – how all the other drivers are either idiots (slower than you) or maniacs (faster than you) also applies to swimming and I am usually an idiot but sometimes also a maniac, and I don’t like myself in either role.
So I was relieved when my wife got sick of it (and probably didn’t want to listen to anyone else I kicked tell them about the hip operation they just had) and we left and asked for our money back.
We didn’t get our money back but we got credit to use the next time we swim.
It won’t be on a Tuesday, that’s children’s day and they’re the worst.
On paper, Monday looked good – the whole right half of the pool was free, but that’s the difference between theory and practice for you.
Practice is always fucking with you.