The unappreciated limerick

There once was a man from Dundee
Who invented a whack-off machine
On the 99th stroke
The fucking thing broke
And beat his balls all to cream
 
OK, this might have gone in the Poets’ section, but so few acknowledge limericks as good poetry, so I’m planting it here rather than risking their ire.

I will admit a personal fondness for limericks. There is nothing pretentious about them and they are perhaps the least ponderous form of writing in existence. Well done, they’re funny. What’s not to like?

I’ll lead off with my all-time favourite:

The limerick form is complex,
Its content is mostly just sex,
With burgeons of virgins
And masculine urgins
And crackling with erotic effects.
Hm, I think this one would scan better if it lost the "with".
 
I knew an old Literotician
Who seasoned each five-star submission
With adverbs galore,
Adjectives by the score,
And a coyly misplaced preposition.


There was a young girl from Merced
Who believed every word that she read.
"The authors I follow
Say girls ought to swallow.
Do you want to try anal instead?"
 
I’m going to stall, with a brief summary of what makes for a limerick.

I recall from English classes that the rhythmic foot known as the amphibrach (duh-DAH-duh) was the least regarded by writers and readers of verse. This may have been because of its use in limericks, to wit:

Line one: Three amphibrachs
Line two: Three amphibrachs
Line three: One amphibrach and one iamb (duh-DAH)
Line four: One amphibrach and one iamb
Line five: Three amphibrachs

For speaking aloud, the overall rhythm is a four-beat measure, with a breath-pause as the fourth beat after each of the first two lines. The third and fourth lines actually form a single measure, filling all four beats. After the fifth line’s three spoken beats, the fourth beat is left open, for listeners to groan, or throw things.

There is also a pretty strict rhyme scheme, A/A/B/B/A. That is, the first, second, and fifth lines must rhyme (and a true rhyme is a match from the last accented syllable to the end of the line), and the third and fourth lines must rhyme.

Sometimes for effect, the rhythm can be altered somewhat, and syllables dropped or added to meet the rhyme scheme. I’m not aware of an international governing body that decides what is or isn’t a limerick, so one may create (somewhat) freely. Still, some degree of adherence to the basic structure seems warranted.

Okay, I’ve stalled long enough:

A seeker of naughty diversion
Enjoys Literotic excursion
If interest is piqued
And hormones are freaked
Then undies get liquid immersion


A bit awkward. It requires accepting ‘Literotic’ as an adjective. If I try this again, I’ll try to make it smoother.
 
Said the girl to the old lech who caught her
"Why, sir, you could not be much shorter!"
"You whore!" cried the man
"Sleep with all that you can
"But no one else calls you 'Sweet Daughter'!"
 
A pervert who thought he could write
Figured Lit would be the best site
But his stuff was quite crap
His imagination a trap
And One Bombs drove him to flight
 
A seeker of naughty diversion
Enjoys Literotic excursion
If interest is piqued
And hormones are freaked
Then undies get liquid immersion


A bit awkward. It requires accepting ‘Literotic’ as an adjective. If I try this again, I’ll try to make it smoother.
Faint heart ne'er slew the Jabberwock, good sir! ‘Enjoys literotic excursion’ has a certain flair, I think
 
There once was a young man of Buckingham,
Who liked standing on bridges in Uppingham,
For watching the stunts
Of the cunts in their punts,
And the tricks of the pricks who were fuckin' 'em.

There once was a Bishop of Birmingham,
Who seduced some young boys whilst confirming 'em,
As they knelt down to pray
He muttered, "Wahey!"
And pumped his episcopal sperm in 'em.
 
There once was a lady from Venus
Who's body was shaped like a penis
Picard was in awe
T'was the biggest he saw
When the crew dropped their pants and he'd seen us

There was a young man from Boston
Who drove an Austin
He had room for his ass
And a gallon of gas
But his balls hung out
and he lost um

Two lesbians north of the town
Made sixty-nine love on the ground
Their unbridled lust
Leaked out in the dust
And made so much mud
that they drowned.
 
There was a young lady called Lucy
whose cunt was well known to be juicy
when time you have free
and for a quite modest fee
you can fuck til her parts are all loose-y.

I didn't write it.
 
There was a young lady called Lucy
whose cunt was well known to be juicy
when time you have free
and for a quite modest fee
you can fuck til her parts are all loose-y.

I didn't write it.
I didn't write mine either. I found the first one years ago when I did a search on Data's Dirty Limerick.
 
There was a young woman called Tasha
Who - all the fans said - was a smasher
But sadly our Yar
Was killed by alien tar
Which kinda sucked, really
 
I know a sweet girl from Trieste
Who has a magnificent chest.
When you go to her house
She will take off her blouse
And then let you take off the rest.

I know a sweet girl from Mount Brandt,
Who lives with her sister and aunt.
It's a bit of an art
To tell them apart,
And their bedroom's so dark that you can't.

I know a sweet girl from South Bend,
Who'll do anything for a friend—
Well, almost, not quite,
She plans to wear white—
But she'll let you in in the end.
 
There once was a girl named Hortense
The size of her breasts was immense
One day playing soccer
Out popped her left knocker
And she kicked it right over the fence
 
And there's one by Shel Silverstein, pubished in Playboy back in the day when Governor George Wallace was running for re-election in Alabama. The picture showed a voting booth with some Ku Klux Klan members in line, and you could see tails extending from their robes. The limerick ran:

A lonely old farmer named Hollis
Took possums and snakes for his solace
His children had scales
And prehensile tails
And voted for Governor Wallace.
 
There was a young girl named Cranker
Who slept while her ship was at anchor.
She awoke in dismay
When she heard the mate say
“Hoist up the topsheet and spanker!”

A lovely young woman named Hall
Wore a newspaper dress to a ball.
The dress caught on fire
And burned her entire,
Front page, sports section and all.
 
There was a young girl named Ann Heuser
Who swore that no man could surprise her
But Pabst took a chance
Found a Schlitz in her pants
And now she's is sadder Budweiser
 
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