Attention all poets. The First Annual Feral Living Valentine’s Day Limerick Contest has just opened. Leave your entries (original limericks) in the comments. No extra points for using the word “urologist”.
Winners to be announced on the 14th.
Attention all poets. The First Annual Feral Living Valentine’s Day Limerick Contest has just opened. Leave your entries (original limericks) in the comments. No extra points for using the word “urologist”.
Winners to be announced on the 14th.
Posted in Feral Living
There was an old man who lived with robots,
He regaled us daily with whacked-out thoughts,
Althought most astute,
They did not compute,
But they leave the rest of us in knots.
I once was in bed in New York
with a man who popped his cork
But he popped it too early
Which in turn made me surly
And I killed him off with a spork.
I once had a love named Vic
I realized that he was a prick
I signed a decree
saying “I’m rid of thee”
Besides, he had a small dick.
there once was a man named Conan
who obsessed over the male organ
and said “Oh dear venus”
when he felt a firm penis
and spent Feb 14th like Onan.
There was a young man from Manhattan
Whose lover had sheets made of satin
But pity the boy
He fell for the ploy
And discover’d that “she” was a man.
While favoring a lass with my tongue
Back before I was no longer young
I so flittered and fluttered
that she came and then uttered
“I don’t care that you’re not at all hung!”
I once knew a guy in Milwaukee,
Who wanted some bedroom chop-socky.
He bought me some sushi,
Belched his best John Belushi,
Then passed out face down in his saki.
I once loved a girl with no head,
and asked her to meet me in bed.
She wouldn’t put out.
I started to shout.
And then I noticed she’s dead.
I offered my heart to Celeste,
who rejected my offer to nest.
She aske me why
I started to cry.
I said, “I can’t get it back in my chest”.
Of Valentine’s Day, rants Michele,
a corporate-induced brand of hell.
A card and a flower
get only her glower
though an act of real love rings her bell.
Here is a poem
Just to show’em
That love’s for the birds
Men, a bunch of turds
It’s not worth gettin’ to know’em
There once was a young man named Vern
When he peed, it started to burn
“Holy shit,” screamed Vern’s girl,
“I caught VD from Earl!”
“Get all partners tested,” Vern learned!
There once was a young man named Earl
He’s the one who was schtupping Vern’s girl!
After poor Vern did heal
He made that Earl squeal —
Beat the shit out of him ’till he hurled!
There once was a young girl named Bella
First Earl and now Vern was her fella
To break the routine,
Vern, her, and friend Jean,
Had a threesome, way down in her cellar!
It’s time for me to hit the hay
I’m about done with Valentine’s Day
Vern, Bella and Jean
Kept themselves fine and clean
And I think they’re happy to this day!
Oh, hell, one more:
There once was an old paleontologist
Who wailed to his younger psychologist,
“Every time I do wank
All my sperm, it smells dank!”
He was promptly sent to a urologist!
Ik kende een meisje uit Bree
had de ideale Valentijn’s gift mee
Wat een drug, wel caramba
je hormonen deden de samba
En die kus ondergingen we met twee
Miguel had a tin whistle problem
Thought they’d solved it quite well at Hobgoblin
Then he packed it with care
but checked in unaware
that the Heathrow cops’ eyes were agogin’.
Still time for another? Good…
Love being indistinguishable
From a severe OCD fable,
A good healthy nap,
And maybe Prozac,
Will keep those emotions more stable.
Though his stomach protruded obtrusively,
Sir John dressed in tight suits exclusively;
With his mustache waxed dandy,
equipped with mint candy,
he’d molest the young children abusively.
(I wrote that when I was 15 or 16…god, that’s 25 years ago! Oy!)
We once dreamt about Jerry Lewis.
We were chaste, but he wanted to do us.
It was only a dream,
But it still makes us cream.
If we dream it again, he can screw us.
(originally published on Lilly White. I don’t usually go in for this sort of thing, but Jerry Lewis … ooh, la la!)
There once was a lovely Valentine,
Who just couldn’t seem to rhyme,
She pulled out her hair…
Her nostrils did flare,
And said, “Aw what the heck..JUST BE MINE!”
In a balloon with a lady from Cardiff
I g-r-e-w quite sensually stiff
When we crashed to the ground
On our backs dragged around
My “salute” was gone in a whiff !
Oh Joy House, from perfect hibernation
Doth arise in true consternation
Wings of a butterfly, un-curled
See what life has un-furled.
For Master’s eager expectation!