12-23-2012 UPDATE: The guest limericks just keep pouring in. Do you have one for us?
12-19-2012 UPDATE: Make that three guest limericks!
Two guest limericks, from opposite corners of the USA, were inspired by the news that Flutterby is now sailing!
This one comes from x x, also known as Kevin Keane. In 2010, he shed his own precious blood to help us launch Flutterby:
I wish I could write a good Limerick
not a poem, but truly a Limerick
but try as i might
I can’t get it right
I can’t find a word rhymes with Limerick
Here’s one from Pat McNeely, who wants to paint Flutterby’s portrait (Columbia, South Carolina):
When Hank told me about your fine rig,
I almost danced a big jig,
It’s finished, Hank said,
As he went off to bed
Saying sailing’s your favorite gig.
This comes from Roger, of Jo Hee (Key West):
Let go of that nasty ol funk
Put all the tools in the trunk
Cause this is the day
You two sail away
On your just-completed junk!
And this one is from Limerick Nick, of Valkyrie (Seattle):
The sailing is your happy spot
After so many bad days of not
Barry fixed the frigging
Messed-up old rigging
Now Meps thinks he’s totally hot!
The Flutterby yes it will splash
After a copious infusion of cash
The Meps and the Barry
Will sail her (hail Mary!)
As she takes on a seaworthy dash.
This one is a guest limerick from Blender Boy Nick. As a fellow sailor, he knows just what it takes to get a boat off jackstands and into the water! Thanks, Nick, for your understanding of the situation.
A mysterious text message showed up on my cellphone yesterday:
There once was a gal named Meps
Who passed the awesomeness test
She has a birthday
And all I can say
May it be one of the best!
I have a “dumbphone” with no keyboard, but I laboriously typed this response:
Hey, your limerick-writing is slick,
And you thought you would play a fun trick.
An anonymous rhyme,
To my cell phone, this time:
But I figured it out: It was NICK!
He won’t be able to fool me again. I saved his number in my list of contacts under “Limerick Nick.”
My poor brain’s going nuts, it’s frenetic
As I run though the words, alphabetic.
But this thing that I do,
Well, my Dad does it, too,
So my gift — or my curse — is genetic.
Sometimes limericks run around in my head until I write them down. This email from my Dad, which I received first thing this morning, reminds me that I am not alone in my affliction:
“This kept running around in my head last night,
so I had to get up and put on paper. Hugs, Dad
Marg’s homonyms are soulfully smooth,
Of this I fully approve;
But her limericks are sweet,
Filled with Her Dancing Feet,
They’re keeping us all in the groove!”
I had an amazing birthday this year, and two very special homemade presents. One was a birthday card hand-painted by my Dad (I had thought Dad was the writer and Mom was the artist!), and the other was this limerick by my sister, Julie.
Meps travels both hinder and yon
Now that beautiful hair’s almost GONE!*
Still, she’s awesome and nifty,
Though half way to fifty
Her new moniker? Captain Ron!
Julie also provided the perfect ending to my birthday. She was doing a radio show on KLCC, in Eugene, Oregon, and I managed to pull it in over the Internet. Then I called the request line and asked for a song from 1964. She asked, “Which song?” “Any song will do!” I sang out, and only then did she recognize her little sister’s voice, all the way from North Carolina.
She played Sam Cooke’s “That’s Where It’s At” for me. Beaufort, North Carolina: That’s where it’s at!
*Explanatory photos to come…
My broken toe limerick got some funny responses. One friend, who will remain nameless, said he once dropped his underwear, tried to kick them to the laundry hamper, hit the wall, and broke a toe. He had a hard time explaining why he was wearing steel-toed boots to his office job.
Here’s another funny response, in verse, from Elinor Narcross:
I was going to lunch
And was driving a bunch.
My foot went kerplunk
Caught myself on the trunk.
Got a break in my foot
Requiring a boot.
In the arm, bicep tear
All in all, worse for wear.
In November it occurred
Pre-holidays; my word!
Healing has taken place
And snow has covered space.
Been inside looking out
Sunshine now makes me shout.
If Spring does really arrive,
I’ll want to drive and drive and drive.
(given the line about the trunk, maybe she should switch to a hatchback?)
This is weird, but it’s happened twice! Out of the blue, someone sends me a limerick about a Julie when I need one for my sister of the same name. This one comes from reader IronMan Mike Curtis, and although it’s not a perfect fit (my sister is NOT middle-aged), it is perfectly timed for my sister’s birthday.
Thanks, Mike! But next time, maybe we could call her “a lovely young woman,” instead? Then, as you can see from the photo, it would fit my Julie, too.
A middle aged woman named Julie
Feared her next birthday unduly
As the clock struck midnight,
She blanched with sheer fright
As if she’d been possessed by a ghoulie
(Limerick (c) 2009 M. Curtis)
I hadn’t gotten any guest submissions in a while, when this appeared in my in-box and gave me a chuckle. It comes from R. Dennis Green, “a limerick-starved fan from Bethesda, MD who shares a birth year (1951) with the comic strip, Dennis the Menace.”
I looked for a birthday limerick
Your web site proved to be perferick
My friend needed laughter
To fight the disaster…
Of aging. Your verse did the trick!
Here’s a guest submission from my brilliant friend Tara:
To Arkansas went Henry’s daughter,
So she could swim nude in hot water.
But if there is a crowd
Then it won’t be allowed
‘Cause they’ll see things that they shouldn’t oughter!
I’ve never tried to write a poem about myself. The only word that I can think of that rhymes is “adeps,” a synonym for lard.
But I discovered yesterday that when properly lubricated (see my recipe for the Goombay Smash), my friends can produce birthday limericks right off the cuff. Since Tina just had a birthday (4/27) and Will is about to have one (5/16), I’m gonna write some limericks about them, too. Luckily, I have just the reference…my own article, entitled “How to Write a Birthday Limerick.”
There once was a sailor named Meps
Who’d had poor luck with men, excepts
a sailor named Barry
Who asked her to marry
And so they went up the church steps.
There once was a sailor named Meps
Who refused to take her twelve steps
With surprising alarm
She drank with both arms
By morning she cried, “Oh my biceps!!!”
Is it time for a concert, Ms. Tina?
Will your rub board’s sound fill this arena?
For the Zydeco Locals,
Which feature your vocals,
Make me dance like a crazed ballerina.
(If you follow the link to the Zydeco Locals’ website, Tina’s the one on the left, with the rub board.)
Will’s limerick will be coming soon…I have two weeks to work on it, and plenty of material.