Limericks and Nonsense Poems

On Limericks

Limericks are poems like haiku, a short pithy form, but unlike haiku, the rhythm is more flexible, and they are often amusing, scurrilous, ribald, or even downright obscene. In fact, as it’s a common, low culture form, there are no rules that can’t be broken so long as you stick to metre and rhyme, more or less. 

You don’t have to begin on the downstroke, the first beat of the bar, so to speak. You can add syllables, so long as you keep the main rhythm intact. The second word in this limerick is the first stress.

A man called Carnivorous Keith

Ate a diet of chicken and beef

He washed in warm ham

Dressed in roast lamb

And used turkey to whiten his teeth

The rhyme scheme is almost always A, A, B, B, A - but that can also be flexible to some extent. 

It’s traditional to end with a punchline, but the subject doesn’t have to be comic. This one opens in the middle of a musical narrative:

So Johnny said “Bonnie, it’s true
I would, but my digeridoo
My banjo and bass
Won’t fit into the case
With Donny’s trombone in there, too”

One technique that limericks have in common with other broadly comic forms is the tendency to surprisingly include a re-worked or warped version of a well-known line. I cannot tell you where this one came from, but:

My postman was flying a kite
When, consumed with a terrible spite,
He threw off his drawers
And attacked on all fours
His bark was no worse than his bite

This limerick is a collaboration with my Twitter friend @maresidotes – I wrote the first two lines, and she completed it marvellously.

The limerick’s a form which is blessed
Three lines have three syllables stressed
These poems can be bawdy,
E’en sometimes get naughty,
So write them while you are undressed!

Once you get into writing in a particular form, they just keep coming. I woke up with the first two lines and the last line of this limerick, and the middle couplet arrived as I jogged around the park. I have no special interest in Roman history, but it was fun to twist the famous quote.

Julius Caesar, for fun,
Fought battles with everyone
Until Brutus’ knife
Lost him his life
He came, and he saw, and he won

So let’s nail down this limerick form. Some of the best limericks create an image and a narrative, just like a cartoon.

An adventurous wench named Maude
Quite often traveled abroad
Disembarking from trains
She left the remains
Of the bones of the beasts she had gnawed

This is a Russian doll limerick, but it makes perfect sense:

In a box, in a box, in a box
In a box, in a box, on the rocks
Is a box, and inside
Another box, wide
Enough for all of my socks

Most limericks are short form, so the more fun you have with them the better...

A creative young punk from the sticks
Thought windows were just made for bricks
He could never pass
A smooth sheet of glass
Without funky punky brick tricks

But you can also link several of them together to make a longer limerick poem:

“I’m an artist, you know” said Louise,
“I’ve a banjo that’s made out of bees
I can summon my muse
Without drinking booze
If inspiration’s a lock, I have keys.

“But I’m an artist,” she said, “so let’s drink
To Bacchus, and slackers who think;
Women and men,
Lovers and friends
Drain your glass to the bottom, and sink…

“.. Down into the roots of the earth
Then erupt in a frenzy of mirth
’til your lungs ache and wheeze
’til you fall to your knees
’til your nose bleeds, and your ears burst

“For the artist goes out on that limb
To the Universe’s very rim
And as we are struck dumb
Deaf and blind, we become
An ontological hymn.

“If inspiration’s a fight, I have clout
And if it’s a pig, I have snout
And if it’s a beer
The solution is clear:
Let’s drink ’til we’ve worked it all out!

“Let’s drink ’til we’ve worked it all out
Let’s drink ’til we’ve worked it all out
Let’s drink ’til we’ve worked
Drink ’til we’ve worked
Drink ’til we’ve worked it all out!”

Here are some limericks from famous English language authors.

Limericks by Edward Lear (1812 - 1888)

There was a Young Lady whose eyes,
Were unique as to colour and size;
When she opened them wide,
People all turned aside,
And started away in surprise.

There was an Old Person whose habits,
Induced him to feed upon rabbits;
When he'd eaten eighteen,
He turned perfectly green,
Upon which he relinquished those habits.

There was an Old Man of Kilkenny,
Who never had more than a penny;
He spent all that money,
In onions and honey,
That wayward Old Man of Kilkenny.

There was an Old Man with a beard,
Who said, 'It is just as I feared!
Two Owls and a Hen,
Four Larks and a Wren,
Have all built their nests in my beard!'

There was an Old Man who supposed,
That the street door was partially closed;
But some very large rats,
Ate his coats and his hats,
While that futile old gentleman dozed.

There was a Young Lady of Norway,
Who casually sat on a doorway;
When the door squeezed her flat,
She exclaimed, 'What of that?'
This courageous Young Lady of Norway.

 A Combustible Woman From Thang - by Spike Milligan (1918 - 2002)

A combustible woman from Thang

Exploded one day with a BANG!

The maid then rushed in

And said with a grin, 

'Pardon me, madam - you rang?' 

https://www.poemhunter.com/spike-milligan/poems/

... and though these next poems aren't limericks, they share similar rhythms and rhymes, and are just as playful..

Go North, South, East, And West, Young Man - by Spike Milligan

Drake is going west, lads
So Tom is going East
But tiny Fred
Just lies in bed,
The lazy little beast. 

So Fair Is She - by Spike Milligan

So fair is she!
So fair her face
So fair her pulsing figure

Not so fair
The maniacal stare
Of a husband who's much bigger. 

I'm Walking Backwards For Christmas - by Spike Milligan

I'm walking backwards for Christmas,
Across the Irish Sea,
I'm walking backwards for Christmas,
It's the only thing for me.

I've tried walking sideways,
And walking to the front,
But people just look at me,
And say it's a publicity stunt. 

I'm walking backwards for Christmas,
To prove that I love you. 

An immigrant lad, loved an Irish colleen
From Dublin Galway Bay.
He longed for her arms,
But she spurned his charms,
And sailed o'er the foam away 

She left the lad by himself, on his own
All alone, a-sorrowing
And sadly he dreamed, or at least that's the
way it seemed, buddy,
That an angel choir did sing -
An angel choir did sing. 

I'm walking backwards for Christmas,
Across the Irish Sea.
I'm walking backwards for Christmas,
It's the finest thing for me. 

And so I've tried walking sideways,
And walking to the front.
But people just laughed, and said,
'It's a publicity stunt'. 

So I'm walking backwards for Christmas
To prove that I love you. 

SONG

The Owl And The Pussy-Cat - Poem by Edward Lear

The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea
In a beautiful pea green boat,
They took some honey, and plenty of money,
Wrapped up in a five pound note.
The Owl looked up to the stars above,
And sang to a small guitar,
'O lovely Pussy! O Pussy my love,
What a beautiful Pussy you are,
You are,
You are!
What a beautiful Pussy you are!'

Pussy said to the Owl, 'You elegant fowl!
How charmingly sweet you sing!
O let us be married! too long we have tarried:
But what shall we do for a ring?'
They sailed away, for a year and a day,
To the land where the Bong-tree grows
And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood
With a ring at the end of his nose,
His nose,
His nose,
With a ring at the end of his nose.

'Dear pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling
Your ring?' Said the Piggy, 'I will.'
So they took it away, and were married next day
By the Turkey who lives on the hill.
They dined on mince, and slices of quince,
Which they ate with a runcible spoon;
And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,
They danced by the light of the moon,
The moon,
The moon,
They danced by the light of the moon. 

The Jumblies - Poem by Edward Lear

They went to sea in a Sieve, they did, 
In a Sieve they went to sea: 
In spite of all their friends could say, 
On a winter's morn, on a stormy day, 
In a Sieve they went to sea! 
And when the Sieve turned round and round, 
And every one cried, `You'll all be drowned!' 
They called aloud, `Our Sieve ain't big, 
But we don't care a button! we don't care a fig! 
In a Sieve we'll go to sea!' 
Far and few, far and few, 
Are the lands where the Jumblies live; 
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue, 
And they went to sea in a Sieve.

They sailed away in a Sieve, they did, 
In a Sieve they sailed so fast, 
With only a beautiful pea-green veil 
Tied with a riband by way of a sail, 
To a small tobacco-pipe mast; 
And every one said, who saw them go, 
`O won't they be soon upset, you know! 
For the sky is dark, and the voyage is long, 
And happen what may, it's extremely wrong 
In a Sieve to sail so fast!' 
Far and few, far and few, 
Are the lands where the Jumblies live; 
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue, 
And they went to sea in a Sieve.

The water it soon came in, it did, 
The water it soon came in; 
So to keep them dry, they wrapped their feet 
In a pinky paper all folded neat, 
And they fastened it down with a pin. 
And they passed the night in a crockery-jar, 
And each of them said, `How wise we are! 
Though the sky be dark, and the voyage be long, 
Yet we never can think we were rash or wrong, 
While round in our Sieve we spin!' 
Far and few, far and few, 
Are the lands where the Jumblies live; 
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue, 
And they went to sea in a Sieve.

And all night long they sailed away; 
And when the sun went down, 
They whistled and warbled a moony song 
To the echoing sound of a coppery gong, 
In the shade of the mountains brown. 
`O Timballo! How happy we are, 
When we live in a Sieve and a crockery-jar, 
And all night long in the moonlight pale, 
We sail away with a pea-green sail, 
In the shade of the mountains brown!' 
Far and few, far and few, 
Are the lands where the Jumblies live; 
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue, 
And they went to sea in a Sieve. 

They sailed to the Western Sea, they did, 
To a land all covered with trees, 
And they bought an Owl, and a useful Cart, 
And a pound of Rice, and a Cranberry Tart, 
And a hive of silvery Bees. 
And they bought a Pig, and some green Jack-daws, 
And a lovely Monkey with lollipop paws, 
And forty bottles of Ring-Bo-Ree, 
And no end of Stilton Cheese. 
Far and few, far and few, 
Are the lands where the Jumblies live; 
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue, 
And they went to sea in a Sieve. 

And in twenty years they all came back, 
In twenty years or more, 
And every one said, `How tall they've grown! 
For they've been to the Lakes, and the Torrible Zone, 
And the hills of the Chankly Bore!' 
And they drank their health, and gave them a feast 
Of dumplings made of beautiful yeast; 
And every one said, `If we only live, 
We too will go to sea in a Sieve,--- 
To the hills of the Chankly Bore!' 
Far and few, far and few, 
Are the lands where the Jumblies live; 
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue, 
And they went to sea in a Sieve. 

Poems not by Edward Lear and Spike Milligan via

 http://theothersideofeverything.com/flip/2010/11/inliwrimo-1/