I love poetry.
However, that doesn’t mean I like all poems. I was online looking at and
editing stories yesterday, when I came across a few pages of these random poems
some guy wrote. Some of them were really good, but unfortunately, some of them
were not. This is probably the worst limerick ever written:
There once was
a bohemian monk
Who fell asleep
on an old wooden bunk
He dreamt that
Venus
Was tickling
his elbow
And he woke up
covered in sweat
…
THAT’S NOT EVEN
A LIMMERICK, PEOPLE. It doesn’t even rhyme. I saw it and thought, “What is
this??” It’s an insult. An insult to limericks everywhere. I actually wrote a
few myself. I showed it to someone, and they looked at me weird. Alas,
I do not believe that limericks don’t have to be funny. Here’s one
set of them:
I curse and sigh, my life
flies by
The wind in the sails, my
boat in the sky.
I see my little boy,
My pride, my joy,
My heart melts, and I sing
him a soft lullaby.
Through the air we soar as I sing,
My voice echoes slightly, a faint kind of ring.
I glance at the ice
This time’s sacrifice
I continue my song, now my words speak of spring
I sing about meadows, and whispering trees.
I sing of new life, and sing of the bees.
I hear a small sound
I start, and look down.
My little boy sleeps, and I smile inwardly
Okay, yeah. So
it’s not great. Meh. But here’s one that’s not serious or anything:
There once was
a girl named Cordelia
Who had a
delicious idelia
She cooked up a
pot
Of beans, spicy
hot
And placed them
inside a tortillia
Yay! Lame limericks
are cool and stuff.
That is all.
