The Snake

Entered into Mad Kane's weekly limerick contest
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The Snake

by Rick Lime

“We all hate the Gov” hissed the snake

Vote for me, and it back, I will take

But the snake, who was sly

Had in fact, told a lie

His intent was, this country, to break!

Like a wolf in sheep’s clothing, the snake

Said “Your freedom’s the thing that’s at stake”

While his plan, which is real

Is your freedom, to steal

Tread upon in his Tea Party’s wake

So, beware the forked tongue of the snake

Randall Paul and Ted Cruz for him spake

They grandstand, filibust,

Neither man should you trust

To be gullible is our mistake

David Koch is the name of the snake

There’s a hunger he never will slake

And he’ll make us all bleed

For his corporate greed.

Head him not, or your future forsake!

Limericks by the Pound

Limericks by the Pound

by Rick Lime

Entries in Madeleine Kane's weekly limerick-off contest

In a penny’s worth, in for a pound

Is a saying that’s meant to confound

Light years Don’t measure time

Someone’s dropping a dime

And a speaker’s for musical sound?

---

They gave the poor headboard a pound

And the mattress collapsed to the ground

Though they practiced safe sex

On the porch and the decks

In the bathtub they both nearly drowned

---

The Mark, Yen or Buck, and the Pound

Make a clinkety-clankety sound

Joel Grey and Minnelli

On film and the telly

Can still make the world go around

---

Pick a penny and squander a pound

In a puddle a fool can be drowned

Aren’t these platitude’s nice

Guess they’ll do in a thrice

But for bawdy lims we’re more renowned

---

A potato weighs all of a pound

When it’s harvested out of the ground

Made of starch and some ash

And before it, you mash

It’s three quarter parts water they’ve found

But this spud will weigh less than a pound

If dehydrated into a mound

That’s half water, half powder

When using for chowder

Or fritters is usu’lly frowned

So now, how many parts of a pound

(And the answer will likely astound)

Does the dried up spud weigh?

If it’s too soon to say,

Is your crossword puz pencil around?

---

On his laptop his head he would pound

As he tried to write something profound

And the words that were wrote

By the keyboard he smote

Made no sense but the meter was sound

---

I wish she would put on a pound 

Some parts of her ought to be round 

But she’s built like a rake

And I’m scared she would break

If out with her I’d make, so I’m browned

---

From the shindig the music would pound

Every time that the jug went around

And the neighbors were pissed

At the ‘do’ that they missed

But not nearly as much as the hound

---

Through Roget’s thesaurus he’ll pound

With hopes that a word can be found

But the squeak of the door hinge

They’d painted bright orange

Made limerick boy come unwound

A gal was annoyed by a hum

A gal was annoyed by a hum

by Rick Lime

Entries in Madeleine Kane's weekly limerick-off contest

A gal was annoyed by a hum

It was me, but I tried to play dumb

When she asked “was that you

On the stupid kazoo?”

I said “No I’ve been beating my …um…”

He’s so humble he won’t even hum

Though he bumbles he isn’t a bum

He’s become truly shy

Someone cute’s caught his eye

And she mumbles the same as his mum

Unbidden my head starts to hum

Amid meter and rhyme I succumb

And I cannot explain

Though I think that it’s plain

There are times when my muse likes to slum

My TV’s developed a hum

And my banjo will no longer strum

All ‘cuz when I watched Hannity

I lost my sanity

Good thing I don’t own a gum

Squatting carpenters constantly hum

Not aware that they’re showing their bum

So good poet or hack

Can’t but help take a crack

At some cheeky verse, warped more than plumb

Now I think we’re beginning to hum

Some girls giggled and wrote the word ‘bum’

I can see the allure

‘Cuz we’re not that mature

Apropos for the lim-off alum

A fellow would haw then he’d hum

Then he’d curse at the IRS scum

When he adds up his tax

It’s deductions he lacks

He owes more than the parts of his sum

The idol can whistle and hum

But his talent’s no better than some

Still he gets their awards

‘Cuz he’s learned all three chords

So an overnight hit he’s become

The woodwinds were starting to hum

The maestro looked typically glum

Then as he took the stage

He went into a rage

As he waved his baton to and from

A gal was annoyed by a hum

And I don’t want to say she was dumb

But by turning the switch

She could deal with her itch

Much more quietly using her thumb

The Counterfeit Coin

The Counterfeit Coin
by Rick Lime

So this week when the rhyme word is hum

And I’ve o’er used ‘cum’,  ‘dum’, ‘thumb’, and ‘bum’

A conundrum I’ll pose

Will you solve it, who knows?

I suspect though, it’s too tough for some

Now the gears in my head start to hum

As the clues for this puzzle forth come

You’ve got 12 coins of gold

But there’s one that is old

It’s weight’s off from the rest, by a crumb

You’ve a scale (not of music to hum)

It’s two pans on a chain, and it’s plumb

With this scale weigh the gold

‘Till at last you behold

The coin others are different from

If at this point you’re all thinking hummm ….

Here’s a clue to begin, don’t be glum

Place some coins in each pan

If they balance you can

Safely say that it’s not in that scrum

Since you now see this isn’t ho-hum

One more thing, please don’t think I’m a bum

The odd coin may be light

Or just overweight, slight

And three weighing’s the goal, good luck chum

visit Madeleine Kane's weekly limerick-off contest

A woman was planning a flight

A woman was planning a flight

by Rick Lime

Check out Mad Kane's weekly Limeric-Off

http://www.madkane.com/humor_blog/2013/03/03/limerick-flight-limerick-off-monday/

Hosts of angels, wings beating in flight

Held celestial bodies just right

Physics pulled back the curtain

But I'm still uncertain

How 'quantums' can shed any light

A fellow was planning a flight

But began with bordellos that night

In between lust and haste

The man's pants were misplaced

So they grounded the Casanovite

Before his career'd taken flight

Yogi Berra quotes all sounded trite

Much later however

They sounded more clever

Like "Errors I made can't be right"

First she gasped then she took off in flight

In the morning, when first she caught sight

Of his thing, oh so ugly

With which she had smugly

Gone humpety bump in the night

Ulysses was planning a flight

From the Siren's bay late in the night

He would face the high sea

In his bid to be free

'Cuz, his bark was much worse in their bight

A couple was planning a flight

With the mile high club in their sight

But the john was so small

That he leaned 'gainst the wall

And the door handle got a delight

A fellow was planning a flight

'Cuz the DA intends to indict

So he'll snorkel and scuba

Lay low in Aruba

And old Beach Boys lyrics recite

A man who was eating a roll

A man who was eating a roll

by Rick Lime

Check out Mad Kane's weekly Limeric-Off

http://www.madkane.com/humor_blog/2013/02/17/role-limerick-off-monday/

William Tell and his son on a roll

At the Lucky Strike Lanes set a goal

T' at least spare every frame

But their team had no name

So we don't know for whom the Tells bowl

The hillsides may hummock and roll

And the valleys can basin and bowl

But as far as I see

There forever will be

In the world, only one grassy knoll

A woman was "eating a roll"

That's sex talk for "pollish the pole"

And while I'm not fluent

"Mamada"s congruent

With both phrases en espanol

Her drummer was drumming a roll

A fiddle-er fingered his scroll

Beyonce innuendo-ed

The chorus crescendo-ed

Much more than the melody swole

A man who'd been recently canned

A man who'd been recently canned

by Rick Lime

Check out Mad Kane's weekly Limeric-Off

http://www.madkane.com/humor_blog/2013/02/03/canned-limerick-off-monday

An escort was recently canned

For lit'rally  beating the band

She was given the boot

When her Madame found oout

She'd been giving them all a free hand

A woman was recently canned

For teaching that one in the hand

Was worth two in the bush

It's a theory she'd push

But not one that us boys understand

To paraphrase Donald, "You're Canned!"

Pointing finger, mock pistol in hand

It's no TV show lout

That he's talking about

But his face in the mirror all tanned

A song that was recently canned

By Ms Knowles and the President's band

Has ignited a fire

And while not a pyre

The idiot flames have been fanned

A gal who'd been recently canned

Was asked "Sarah, what next have you planned?"

First she hummed, then she hawed

Then inspired by god

She said "Share More Broadly the Message of the Beauty of Freedom and the Imperative of Defending Our Republic and Restoring This Most Exceptional Nation"

A man who'd been recently canned

For visiting sites that were banned

Found it hard to let go

For a minute or so

He'd it all in the palm of his hand

A woman was recently canned

For indecently using a hand

To first hide then reveal

Then refuse to conceal

The two parts that she hadn't quite tanned

And a couple of alternate rhymes about the Super Bowl

The super bowl's finally here

Seems the hype has been building all year

And while some think the game

Is exceedingly lame

We'll use any excuse to drink beer

QBs throw the bombs, LBs blitz

The coach barks his orders and spits

While boys from the benches

Make war in the trenches

And fans drink Budweiser and Schlitz

A fellow stepped into the hall

Entries in Mad Kane's weekly limerick off contest

A fellow stepped into a hall

by Rick Lime

A woman stepped into the holl-er

A classic’ly trained square dance call-er

She plays Ludwig Van

And says “Left Allemande”

With the chance that the dancers might Mahl-er

When Ms Clinton stepped into the hall

“You’d be fired by me” said Rand Paul

Hear the Oz lion sing

“If I’d only been king”

Is that pride going before the fall?

A fellow stepped into the hall
First he wept, then he started to bawl
There’s Liz Lemon and Jack
Tracy Morgan and Krak
He had just said good bye to them all

A feller was fixin ta haul
His ramshackle wreck to St. Paul
The dad-burned directions
Shore had imperfections
He purt near drove by Montreal

A fellow stepped into the hall

‘tween the bed and the head on the yawl

And then grinning he swore

“I’ve been blown offshore

And my mast is beginning to fall”

If’n y’all would step into the hall
This here feudin’ we jes might forestall
Ain’t rightly my bidness
But this pro and quid-ness
Is too high-falutin, by gall

A woman had planned to come clean

Entries in Mad Kanes weekly Limerick-off contest

A woman had planned to come clean

by Rick Lime

A fellow who hated to clean

Has created a washing routine

Now he schedules each bath 

Using log’rithmic math

So they’re fewer and farther between

A woman had planned to come clean

But in Smithers, just making the scene

She was randy and lonely

And so she not only

Got drunk, she blew two Smithereens

A fellow is now coming clean

Fastest bicycling junkie there’s been

And he could be forgiven

If he’d only striven

T’ apologize for being mean

A fellow had planned to come clean

To his son, speaking like a machine

He said “Luke, I’m your father

I hope it’s no bother

I guess though, you’ll make a big scene

A fellow refused to eat crow

Entries for Madeleine Kane's weekly limerick-off contest

A fellow refused to eat crow

by Rick Lime

A woman refused to eat crow
A character weakness? P’rhaps so
But inconsequential
To her existential
And meaningless wait for Godot

A fellow refused to eat crow

For a very good reason, he'd show

Both his foot and a bird

In his mouth, was absurd

Clearly, one of the two had to go

A woman refused to eat crow

For the row that she'd chosen to hoe

And she carried with grace

Every line in her face

While she reaped every seed that she'd sow

Dick Morris refused to eat crow

He’s been wrong umpteen times in a row

But for him to admit

That he’s been full of sh#t

Would compel him cojones to grow

A fellow refused to eat crow

And for him this was quite apropos

Crow’s unclean, unlike pigeon

Based on his religion

Leviticus ‘leven or so

A fellow would frequently claim

A fellow would frequently claim

by Rick Lime

A fellow would frequently claim

That as neighbours we’re really the same

Maple leaf and Old Glory

The deal is, we’re sorry

For Howie Mandel and his game

A woman would frequently claim

Her allegiance to old 'Nottur' Dame

But for now, as of yet, her

Poor Irish look better

On paper than during the game

 This fellow would just like to claim

That my comments about Notre Dame

Whose play was quite checkered

Were put on the record

An hour before the big game

A fellow would frequently claim

There’s a virtue to ‘ready, fire, aim’

But to me it just sounds

Like you’ve got lots of rounds

And you’re not concerned whom you could maim

A fellow would frequently claim

Everyone gets a few minutes fame

His tomato soup can

An art movement began

Giving him a much longer acclaim

Historians frequently claim

On the Romans, we, sin tax can blame

At each bacchanalia

A bean counter would trail ya

To note if you went or you came

A fellow would frequently claim

That all women he knew were the same

Always early he’d wait

With concern for each date

And thank god if they finally came

A fellow would frequently claim

His impeachment was all a big frame

So he wrote in his book

“I am still not a crook

I’m responsible, but not to blame”

Check out Madelaine Kane's weekly limerick-off at http://www.madkane.com/humor_blog/2013/01/06/limerick-claim-limerick-off-monday/