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Choose a famous poem and write it in limerick form, putting the title of the original poem at the top. Please fit your chosen poem into one limerick (five lines) only. See “How to Write a Limerick.” Post your limerick in the comments section below. See examples:
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Nothing Gold Can Stay (Frost)
The first green of nature is gold.
The hardest of colors to hold.
Her new leaf is a flower,
Bright and bold for an hour
Till the winter, the Frost and the cold.
—Mike Bryant
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Still I Rise (Angelou)
Oil pumps and then wells in my eyes.
Diamonds meet at the top of my thighs.
I have no room for gloom;
To the moon with all doom.
Like the hot air in lies, I will rise!
—Susan Jarvis Bryant
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“Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening”
by Robert Frost
So there once was a woods that I knew
And its owner I knew about too.
On a cold, snowy night,
Such a beautiful sight
To behold as my fingers turned blue.
Excellent!
Perfect!
“This be the Verse”
By Philip Larkin
Your parents they fuck up your head,
And so life is bleak till your dead,
Fuck only fun,
Begetting no-one,
While the saracen takes over instead.
Made me laugh!love this one. It’s so light and uncensored! You kill me! Thanks!
Bantams in Pine Woods (Stevens)
Fat! Fat! Fat! Fat!
Portly poet in a henna hat!
Chief of Azcan,
Flee if you can!
My world is me and that’s that!
My Candle Burns at Both Ends (Edna St. Vincent Millay)
Consuming so quickly my candle
From both ends, it causes a scandal
To friend and to foe,
But oh, what a glow,
Like music from George Fredrick Handel!
Giggle-inducingly beautiful.
Expressive! Good one.
Ithaca (Cavafy)
I wandered and tasted the wine
Then searched for a place to dine
The doors were all locked
‘Cuz past eight o’clock
It’s Boston in sixty-nine
How is it, Dedee, that you know about the old Boston blue laws? The only reason they were revoked was that the politicians knew that they could collect more taxes that way.
I didn’t know the reason for the 8 o’clock closings. I recall the only places to eat were Jake Wirth’s and Athen’s Olympia in the theater district. Then in the 70’s, Cafe Florian on Newbury for a sandwich. Blue laws……I’m wistful for their return, especially a Sabbath, whatever day one chooses.
“The Raven”
by Edgar Allan Poe
It was midnight; I felt really sleepy.
As I longed for Lenore I got weepy.
Then along a bird fluttered,
“Nevermore” — all it uttered.
I’ve got company now — but it’s creepy.
Spookily hilarious! I love it!
Oddly, I thought of The Raven as a subject myself, but I couldn’t have matched this! Great stuff.
Funny.
LOVE it. LOL!
Daffodils (Wordsworth)
I wandered alone like a cloud,
seeing daffodils all in a crowd.
And now if Life glowers,
with thoughts of those flowers,
my inner eye’s suitably wowed.
Cleverly crafted. Well done!
This Is Just To Say
I’ve eaten the plums in the fridge.
I saved you not even a smidge.
They weren’t too old,
So sweet and so cold.
Forgive me, but they were delish.
Limerick plums with aplomb! I love em!
Good one! They begged to be eaten.
While the evening spreads out in the skies,
Let us look for the man in disguise
Etherized on a table.
If anyone’s able
To see him, I’ll sure be surprised.
Sorry — that was from “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” by T.S. Eliot.
Cynthia, I love yours and you have inspired me.
The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock (T.S. Eliot)
I beseech you, go eat a ripe peach.
Michelangelo’s art’s out of reach.
Ladies come and they go
And all those in the know
Know coffee won’t measure life’s breach.
“The Red Wheelbarrow”
by William Carlos Williams
On this wheelbarrow so much depends,
Planted there by the foraging hens,
….. And its brilliant red hue
….. Shines especially true
When it’s glazed with the rain that descends.
Anna, this is better than the original! Superb!
I totally agree! Williams could learn a bit about meter from Anna! (Oh — and thanks for your comment on my Prufrock, Susan. Yours is great!)
spot on.
Anna, you beat me to it:
so much on this barrow depends
it’s fiery with fair weather friends
but when there’s foul weather
it’s flocked by a feather
of dover cliff hue, on chickens
Yours deserves to be more famous than Williams’, in my opinion!
Thanks for the encouraging feedback! (Jack, I like your rendition as well)
Interestingly enough, I wrote a sonnet spinoff on The Red Wheelbarrow a couple of months ago, when my husband decided to purchase us a yellow wheelbarrow, though my heart had been set on red (in part because of Williams’ poem). Maybe I should submit it here to SCP…
This is particularly good because you have shown possibly the most overrated poem of the twentieth century to be what it really is. And your short lines, ending hue/true are superbly anapestic.
Caged Bird (Maya Angelou)
A bird in a cage cannot sing
In a country where freedom can’t ring.
Though you tweet and you tweet,
All your tweets they delete—
They assure you can’t say anything.
Sandi, you have taken this challenge to new heights in a limerick that packs one helluva punch on the cancel-culture front. Wonderful!
Thank you master-poet-extraordinaire! These little challenges are always a hoot to read!
Indeed!
Brilliant!
Yes, brilliant!
In Verona, where we lay our scene,
Civil blood makes the folk’s hands unclean.
R and J took their lives
And it ended their strifes.
R was sixteen and J was thirteen.
An accomplished one–very expressive.
Non Sum Qualis Eram Bonae Sub Regno Cynarae (Dowson)
To forget you, I took out some money
And hired an out-of-work Bunny.
Her kisses were warm
But I couldn’t perform,
So I guess I’ve been faithful, my honey.
That sounds like Dowson alright!
You are a funny and talented man; it certainly would have been interesting being one of your students.
Ode On a Grecian Urn
Though you’re empty there’s value untold
in the beauty of story on hold.
It’s the truth that you speak,
though it comes across Greek,
about being but not seeming old.
Very clever!
Thanks!
Summer Showers by Emily Dickinson
A drop fell on the apple tree,
That went to help bathe the sea.
The sunshine threw fete hung,
Were the birds Jocoser sung.
The breezes brought the birds bathed in glee.
This is nice!
Summer Showers by Emily Dickinson
A drop fell on the apple tree,
That went to help bathe the sea.
The sunshine threw fete hung,
Where the Jocoser birds sung.
The breezes brought the birds bathed in glee.
Trees – Joyce Kilmer
The tree I see
It comforts me
It aids
It shades
Reminds me that He died for me
‘Dust of Snow’ of Sir Robert Frost.
…
Dust of Snow
Amidst these shivering trees,
I stood still, becoming freeze,
Reciting winter’s tale;
Making my body temper curtail,
O, dust of snow in the frozen breeze.
Time standstill, nice word choice.
Not Waving but Drowning,
Stevie Smith
It wasn’t my arms I was waving, you cretin.
No deeper my head could I get in.
Do you think I would crave
Your attention and wave,
My head in the bag of cement it was set in?
Hilarity meets Stevie Smith poetry to produce a poem that speaks of immortartality with a wry nod to concrete poetry – I expect nothing less from a poet who has concrete ideals in this age of fixed ideas and ideals. Very well done, indeed!
i wanna do cadged bird … can i? … can i
imagining that i had wings
and owned the divine right of kings
i mewled and i whined,
the antifa kind,
for elephants on children’s swings.
“Hickory, Dickory, Dock”
by Tommy Thumb
Let us look at this rhyme and take stock.
It has something to do with a clock
In an animal house
With an up-running mouse
… What the hell is a dickory
dock?
Very funny!
Yes it is!
LOVE IT! LOL
Sympathy
Paul Lawrence Dunbar
Oh such anthropomorphisings
Open the door when a caged bird sings
caged bird will not flee.
They love where food is free.
Ignore all exit openings.
Wonderful word play
It had everything but the proper anapestic (or, possibly, amphibrachic) meter. Learn hat a limerick actually is.
Oh okay then … If I must…
When anthropomorphisings sing,
They seem to regret where they cling.
They batter at bars.
Scream out to the stars.
While Maya writes down everything.
Old Ironsides (Holmes)
The ship’s an unseaworthy bucket
And Congress just wants us to chuck it.
But in view of her fame
That would be a damned shame —
Let her sink in a squall off Nantucket.
Perfectly done, and great innovative rhymes!
There is a rather famous limerick with “Nantucket” as a rhyme-word in the longer lines, but somehow Joseph has managed to avoid the original “fuck it.”
They’re capable of anything, and nothing should surprise us at this point.
Tennyson’s “Charge of the Light Brigade”
“Let’s capture those guns!” Raglan said.
The cavalry charged on ahead.
The battle was gory –
They won fame and glory
But most of them ended up dead.
Fabulous!
Thanks Paul.
Brilliant!
I am loving this one, Jeff. When is the funeral? And what’s the dress code for a toad?
Thank you Jeff.
In Leek the toad is extinct
But for tyre-marks most indistinct.
A miserable morkin,
Too bald for a merkin,
If only poor Jeff hadn’t blinked.
Clever in its irony!
Thanks Sandi.
T S Elliot Animula
There once was a heavenly boy
Who was born full of life and joy,
As time passed his troubles grew,
His teeth fell out and his smile went south
-the poor misguided, lonely trout.
This is not a limerick of any sort at all.
Oh okay. Thank you for the feedback
I am not happy with the third line but I thought
the others conformed.
Are you familiar with the poem. it is one of my favourites
and I am rather sad that I have condensed it to that.
But I think it fits.
revised version-marginally better perhaps
There once was a heavenly boy
Born on earth full of life and joy
When he grew
His troubles did too
So sad about the boy
Thank you Mr CB Anderson
I think finally I have learned not to post in haste
“Toads” by Philip Larkin
With sadness I’m writing this ode,
On the death of a big, slimy toad.
For he got in the way,
Of my bike yesterday,
Now he’s splattered all over the road.
Ha! Excellent!
I agree!
Very funny!
Hilarious! Is the toad in the hole? I hope you gave him a good send off!
leap of joy and you’ve become the toad..
Sheer brilliance, this one, and almost worth mashing the toad for.
As president of the Batrachophiliac Society (perverts, the lot of them), established in 1910, I must protest most vehemently at the impetuous levity with which the demise of Mr Toad has been treated in your column. I didn’t join SCP to read this sort of bilge (I thought it was the RSPCA).
A short promenade down the road,
As reveries lazily flowed.
Did he hear a croak?
Too late for the bloke,
The pavement, the shoes and the toad.
Now is the winter
Tewkesbury gave the Lancastrians what for.
Now with Edward, sprawled out on the floor,
Is some wench who admires
Him, whose passion he fires.
As for me, it’s his crown I adore.
Sea surface full of clouds / Stevens
As Tehuantepec’s shores I passed by,
I gazed down (being bored with the sky).
“So the sea’s blue,” I thought,
“… then again, maybe not.”
In five cantos I’ll tell you just why.
Ah, vous dirai-je
Mommy dear, I have just this to say:
I am fraught by the end of the day.
Dad insists that I think.
He will drive me to drink,
But with candy I shan’t go astray.
Ozymandias (Shelley)
A statue of some royal jerk
Lies smashed in the sand, with a smirk.
Whoever he was,
He’s forgotten, becuz
There ain’t nothin’ left of his work.
I don’t think you left out a single thought from the original…
Jest at its best.
You got all the philosophy of the original poem, with some humour thrown in!
The irony is just as thick as the original. Great stuff.
The Highwayman
To the pride of a landlord of yore
rode a seeker of riches galore.
Though he treasured her heart,
they would be torn apart
by the gold to be stolen worth more.
“Toads re-visited” by Philip Larkin
To the family of poor Mr. Toad,
An apology surely is owed.
So I’ll start in the morn,
To collect all the spawn,
And then render my bath their abode.
A bathtub’s no place for large shoals
Of mournful and morphing tadpoles
An orphan amphibian
Prefers the Caribbean
That’s why tubs are blessed with plugholes.
The funeral of Toad of Toad Hall,
Was a slimy affair I recall.
All the laughter and croaks,
From his family and folks,
Who turned up for the day, warts and all.
Susan, amphibian rhyming with Caribbean at first glance is just so dreadful. Later, it becomes genius. Love it.
Jeff, that’s so funny. I went with the American pronunciation of ‘Caribbean’… without even giving it a second thought. I’ve been away from the UK for too long! lol
Jabberwocky by Lewis Carroll
It was brillig (whatever that is)
When a lad with a sword said “Gee whizz!
If I bring back the head
Of a Jabberwock dead
There’ll be callays, calloohs, and free fizz!”
David, I love it! Jabberwocky is a favorite of mine, and one of the first I considered transforming, but I got stuck and moved on. I’m so happy to read your version.
Thank you Anna. The inventive language in Jabberwocky is what appeals to me most. Charles Dodgson’s ‘chortle’ has made it into common usage. ‘Brillig’ never quite caught on.
David, love this one, thank you for a good laugh.
Thanks Jeff, your toad limericks are also very funny.
A toad funeral as a ‘slimy affair’ is my favourite mental picture.
David, this is a brillig limerick! All galumph and no whiffle – a chortle-worthy wonder that’s brightened my mimsy day and has the recesses of my brain outgrabing for more of this joy in this fruminous world of bandersnatches.
“The Fly” by William Blake
Little fly its thoughtless play did spoil
my sport and put my face in night soil,
when I drank on the street
and sang a song upbeat.
If you please, brush my hair with sweet oil?
Inspired by ‘To A Butterfly’ by William Wordsworth
Oh butterfly, lovely to see
I’m so glad that you’re not a bee
that comes ’round with a buzz
as a bee always does…
a sting would be too much for me!
Also, not particularly funny but inspired
by another Wordsworth poem…”A Slumber Did My Spirit Seal.”
Midst the rocks and the stones and trees
there is Light in the peace of the breeze
and a mood of no fear
on this ancient earth here
where the willows bend down on their knees.
I love this!!
William Shakespeare
Sonnet 130
“My Mistress’ Eyes Are Nothing Like the Sun”
My mistress is unlike the sun;
Her skin is the color of dun.
Though dark be her features,
Of all of God’s creatures
Her beauty is second to none.
“Molly Malone”
Irish Traditional
With a tip of the hat to the late great Allan Sherman
Sweet Molly Malone wheeled her barrow
Through streets not too broad but too narrow.
Her hips were so wide
They scraped on each side
And squeezed her as thin as an arrow.
James – This one is brilliant and had me whistling the tune as I read it (I should mention I have an exceedingly mellifluous whistle).
Great tribute to the “Tart with a heart” ….how about one for “The Floozie in the Jacuzzi?”
Inferno
Dante Alighieri
From Canto III
A poet named Dante attended
A Hell-tour James Sale recommended.
Abandoning hope
He slid down the slope
And wrote it all down when it ended.
There are many fine limericks here, James, but indubitably yours – this one – is the masterpiece! If you go to Florence now, you will certainly obtain the laurel that Dante failed to win – only covid-19 stands in your way!!!
AUGURIES OF INNOCENCE (Blake)
The World’s a mere Grain of the Sand,
more vast than the seashore’s broad strand.
And Heaven’s a flower
each Infinite hour,
while Galaxies fit in my hand.
— Royal Rhodes
The Cat in the Hat (Abridged and Uncensored)
A cat in a hat made a mess,
putting two kids at home under stress.
Then the cat pulled some strings
and enlisting two Things
cleaned the house in a minute or less.
IF.. (Rudyard Kipling)
If you straddle both sides of the fence,
And pose as a man of good sense,
You’ll likely grow rich,
You damned son-of-a-bitch,
Even though you are stupid and dense.
My favourite poem to limerick(s) is Wendy Cope’s “The Wasteland”:
The Waste Land: Five Limericks
I
In April one seldom feels cheerful;
Dry stones, sun and dust make me fearful;
Clairvoyantes distress me,
Commuters depress me–
Met Stetson and gave him an earful.
II
She sat on a mighty fine chair,
Sparks flew as she tidied her hair;
She asks many questions,
I make few suggestions–
Bad as Albert and Lil–what a pair!
III
The Thames runs, bones rattle, rats creep;
Tiresias fancies a peep–
A typist is laid,
A record is played–
Wei la la. After this it gets deep.
IV
A Phoenician named Phlebas forgot
About birds and his business–the lot,
Which is no surprise,
Since he’d met his demise
And been left in the ocean to rot.
V
No water. Dry rocks and dry throats,
Then thunder, a shower of quotes
From the Sanskrit and Dante.
Da. Damyata. Shantih.
I hope you’ll make sense of the notes.
The Lady Of Shalott
She was a lady of leisure
and he a man of truth
when she saw him
she swooned
and expired for good measure
The Rime of the Ancient Mariner
The crew deemed their shipmate a turd
o’er an albatross, shot, so they heard
with the old sailor’s bow,
causing ill-fortune, so
they collectively gave him the bird.
Bullseye Paul, love this one.
Hickory, Dickory, Dock (Nursery Rhyme)
Inspired by the previous posting of Joe Tessitore and an old joke.
Hickory, Dickory, Dock.
Two mice ran up the clock.
The clock struck one
And then he was done.
The other one died from the shock.
Funny oh could’ve been growing old with the rhyme.
Thank you, Kathy!
Jabberwocky
A youth of uncertain location
Once vanquished a beast of predation.
His torturous time
Was captured in rhyme.
Narration/ translation/ truncation
Dick and Jane: Book 1
We already knew ‘a’, ‘b’, ‘c’,
and probably ‘1’, ‘2’ and ‘3’.
But then we learned ‘dog’,
which was followed by ‘frog’,
and some pronouns like ‘I’, ‘you’ and ‘we’.
The Road Less Traveled by Robert Frost
I looked at two roads in a wood
deciding which one was more good
Since on one had trod more
of the travelers before
On the lesser I felt that I should
“One Perfect Rose” Dorothy Parker
Roses Wilt; Limos Don’t
Classy gent! He sent one perfect rose.
At the moment it pleases my nose.
A big luxury car
would be better by far.
Is a Benz en route? I don’t suppose!
“Ebb” by Edna St. Vincent Millay
I know how my heart now appears,
Since your love went away with the years:
It’s a pool in a ledge
Drying in from the edge,
That can never be quickened with tears.
From Emily Dickinson’s
I taste a liquor never brewed
I taste a liquor never brewed
Gulp it by glassful. In a mood,
Sip like iced tea
By a crystal blue sea
An inveterate tippler – that’s me !.
A limerick of sorts;
If you take the road not taken,
and walk in beauty like the night,
knocking on silent doors,
you may find in time
that the road left behind, was the right!
Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard (Gray)
There was a young poet called Gray
who wrote in a churchyard all day
till the ploughman was spent,
the cows homeward went,
and the bell tolled the end of the day.
really enjoyed your last line.
The Congo.
Large black men ensconced in a room
Held handles removed from a broom.
On barrels they beat
Keeping time with their feet.
Making sounds:boomlay boom, boomlay boom.
Humpty Dumpty.
Humpty Dumpty was perched on a wall.
He suffered a life-changing fall.
The king’s fix-em-up
Was a failure, and yup,
He’s sueing, imagine the gall!
For Limerick Lovers I have 2 books on amazon.com Limericks and Poems from County Emmet and avec a nom de plume (Mark Wheat) The Trump Era in Limericks
THE ROAD NOT TAKEN by Robert Frost
I pondered on which way to go
When faced in the wood by two roads
My choice – the less travelled –
Fixed how life unravelled
I’ll claim but I really don’t know
The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost
Two roads parted ways in the wood;
I’d have wandered down both, if I could.
But I had a quick gander
And chose to meander
Down one… bet the other was good.
One Art by Elizabeth Bishop
It’s not hard to master the art.
Some things seem designed from the start
To be lost or forgot
Or misplaced… you know what?
It’s not such a bad thing to part.
To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time by Robert Herrick
All young virgins should without delay
Give it up with the thought ‘Seize the day!’
For life’s the most pleasant
When you’re adolescent
Once that’s gone then there’s only decay
“The Tide Rises, the Tide Falls” by H. W. Longfellow
The tide rises and the tide falls,
As darkness settles on the walls;
The morning breaks,
The traveler wakes-
But the sea, in darkness, still calls.
The Wandering Wavering Wayfarer
Perceiving the pathway to truth
Is akin to one’s eye or one’s tooth
Perception be damned
If it’s borrowed or rammed
Down the throats and the minds of our youth.
Nature’s first green is gold
‘Tis a glorious sight to behold
And we’d sing and we’d dance
And only boys wore the pants
I can’t BELIEVE this crap ever sold!
To Lucasta, Going to the Wars by Richard Lovelace:
I’m sorry for going to war,
Not being with you anymore;
But I couldn’t love you
As much as I do
If I didn’t love honor more!
The Tay Bridge Disaster
By William Topaz McGonagall
How we cheered as our train steamed away,
Pounding over the silvery Tay,
Racing swift as a hart,
Till the bridge fell apart
And that totally ruined our day.
Catullus – 5
Oh, give me a thousand sweet kisses
So I’ll understand what true bliss is.
And more thousands until
We’re so wrapped in our will,
I forget you are somebody’s missus.
e.e. cummings – “first robin the”
i see the first robin of this spring
to no one else says he a damned thing
i’m trying to type
what some may call tripe
with all of my majuscules missing!
The Road Not Taken (Frost)
I begged I was mistaken
And late but was not faking
I blame, I guess,
My GPS
I missed the road not taken
I’ll Twine ‘Mid the Ringlets
by the mysterious “Maud Irving”
I’ll twine my black ringlets of hair
With pale blooms, a warning, beware
He’ll rue the dark hour
With the frail wildwood flower
When betrayal’s revenge shall not spare
“We Are Seven” by William Wordsworth
An eight-year-old took it as given
That a brother and sister in Heaven
And four still alive
With herself who made five
Were why she could say, “We are seven!”