Each week, Mad Kane posts four or five possible beginning lines for limericks and invites readers to write and post their creations. (Entries appear in the comments of each week’s Limerick-Off Monday which she posts late Saturday.)
Minor variations to the first lines are acceptable. However, rhyme words may not be altered, except by using homonyms or homophones.
A limerick is usually a humorous 5-line poem in which lines 1,2, & 5 rhyme and lines 3 & 4 rhyme. The best ones are witty and often use puns, word play, or clever idioms.
Each week Mad choses winners and honorable mentions. They are judged by meter, rhyme, cleverness and humor. If you want to learn how to write a limerick, you can find instructions HERE.
Note that limericks have the reputation for being bawdy, but not all are. Mine are usually fairly innocent, but I left out the more risqué ones to keep my blog G-rated. *****Warning: if you are bothered by suggestive, sexual, lascivious, or raunchy humor, you might want to skip Mad’s site, but most of the short poems are written in good humor, so check it out —if you dare.*****
I decided I would post what I consider my best limericks in one post at the end of each month. (If the Monday after the first lines are posted is in the current month, I will include mine for that month. If it falls in the upcoming month, I'll save them for next time.)
Week of 6/30/14
First line suggestions:
A man in the mood for a sweet…*
A gal who was cloyingly sweet…*
A fellow who rented a suite…*
The cellist was playing a suite…*
Miss Stout, in the mood for a sweet,
Declared her sheer, all-out, defeat.
She had to lament
Her resolve that for Lent
She had vowed to not overeat.
The woman acted saccharine sweet.
Underneath, she's more sour than upbeat.
She said she loved birds,
But those were just words,
For she roasted a cute parakeet.
Mr. Rush moved into a suite,
In a low-priced hotel on First Street
After tucked in and snug,
Bitten by a bedbug,
He bolted in half a heartbeat.
The cellist was playing a suite,
But she dropped her suite music sheet.
When it fell to the floor,
She couldn’t follow the score.
Without it, the suite wasn’t sweet.
Week of 6/23/14
First line suggestions:
A fellow with many a vice…*
A gal who was free with advice…*
A fellow had bought a device…*
A fellow was using a vise…*
Mr. Fuzz just transferred to vice.
His pals offered this sound advice.
Keep your hands off the perps
For they’re nasty, vile twerps
And you may catch their crabs or their lice.
A gal who gave awful advice
Explained how to get rid of mice.
“Once they are chosen,
Placed in ice trays and frozen,
Make mice cubes and use them as dice.”
Stephanie bought a device —
“As sold on TV” merchandise.
The quality unspoken,
One use, it was broken
T'was not worth the shipping price.
Week of 6/16/14
First line suggestions:
An employee who needed okays…*
A fellow was dating two Kays…*
The races he likes are 5Ks…*
I was stumped by a word with three Ks…*
Never act without getting okays…*
An employee who didn’t get okays
Moved his desk into the hallways.
The day he acquired
A new chair, he was fired
For lounging his days in a chaise.
The races he liked were 5Ks
with challenging, thin passageways.
So he turned his right side
toward each narrow divide
And shimmied through each one edgeways.
Franz was stumped for a word with three Ks
With his awful and bad-spelling ways.
Chained to a court desk
When he wrote “KafKa-esK,”
He described
The Trial with that keen phrase.
Never act without getting okays
To change pastures where cows can go graze.
If the field has short grass,
It will sure be your ass
When the cattle have blocked the fairways.
Week of 6/9/14
First line suggestions:
A fellow was trying to write…*
A woman, convinced she was right…*
We’re lost. You were s’posed to turn right…*
A man who believed might makes right…*
A gal was engaged in a rite…*
Christie was attempting to write
A plot that was flawless. Airtight!
But Poirot lost his gray cells
And no longer excels,
So the plot turned into a plight.
“We’re lost. Let’s try turning right,”
Said Herb at a lengthly stop light.
He would not ask (the fool!)
How to reach his son’s school.
They arrived just after midnight.
Joe believed might was perfectly right.
Over faith, he was willing to fight.
He spilled onto his back
When he felt the strong whack
From a brown-habited Carmelite.
Week of 6/2/14
First line suggestions:
Her eyes were the color of slate…*
I’m forgetful — my mind’s a blank slate…*
The roofer was working with slate…*
Let’s start over, I’m begging — clean slate…*
This one was awarded an Honorable Mention —my first week of adding a limerick to the site
I'm aging ---my mind's a blank slate.
My hair loss reveals a bald pate.
I'm so ready to squeal
Over lost sex appeal.
My only gain, lately, is weight.
