Limericks and such composed on my daily dog walks: verses 551-600

Note: Some of these verses lean left. If you lean right (which is completely cool, of course), you may not be totally happy with this site.
551. There was great joy in the chicken cage.The old hen had been removed because of her age.And now all of us spring chickenscould again romp around like the dickens,without having to watch that old bag fly into an impetuous rage.
552. What's missingis that there's absolutely no kissing.Whenever I try to touch her, lip to lip,she immediately gives me the slip,and, like a vexed viper, starts hissing.
553. From whichever angleyou regard this pink triangle,you can see the survival of a lovethat was sent from heaven abovethat so many below tried to strangle.
554. Do you remember Tippecanoe?Then you must remember Tyler too.I, myself, don't know him from Adam,nor the madame who had him.I just know he was a bigshot in 1842.
555. Holy bejeezus!I didn’t take the time to get things right with Jesus!And now I'm dead,with nothing but the prospect of hell ahead,when in fact, I’d wanted to go somewhere where it sometimes also freezes.
556. I, myself, and me limericks/versesI, myself, and me we are the royal we.I makes most of the decisions,while me or myself makes the needed revisionsto ensure we three don’t unwittingly disagree. Me, Myself, and I ran into You, Yourself, and You.We hadn't seen each other for about ─ what? ─ a week or two.You said to Me, "Know what we should do?The six of us should plan on dinner in about a week or two."Me said, "Sure. But let’s make that dinner for five, okay, You?Cuz that week, I’s got some other things I desperately needs to do."
557. When I don't let my dog explore every scent that he senses,as we walk through town past all the houses and fences,he pulls on his leash with such an incredible force,that he makes me step in piles of dog doo, of course,and then my ire with him spares no expenses.
558. Sometimes when I wanna write verse,I run into that age-old cursethat since the time of John Lockehas been known as writer's block,and for a writer, nothing could be worse.
559. I love Frida Kahlo.That woman was in no way shallow.She could paint to the depthsof were space time interceptsand defeats cosmic pain ─ blow-by-blow.
560. If I had to guess what’s wrong,I'd say you’re always singing the wrong song.You should be singing “Hallelujah,”instead of "Buddy, what's it to ya,"and stringing all that negativity along.
561. The two slip out of bed and pull on their pants.They've just made wet and sloppy romance.And now, will one of them say,"Give me your number, and I'll call you, okay?"Or is this not one of those boilerplate one-night stands?
562. She had an interesting dress on ─that is, if you’re a fan of Piet Mondrian.Myself, I thought it was kinda square,and, except for a teasing tear down her rare,I found it a real yawn.
563. When you stood there à la Marilyn Monroe,I'm sure your boyfriend will be glad to know,that no one saw your pantybecause you weren't wearing anyas, with a feigned embarrassment, you sang out ─ "Whwhoa!"
564. "Is there anything more rottenthen to die and to be totally forgotten?""Yeah, how about being rememberedfor the bodies one might have dismembered ─or for fame or for fortune ─ totally ill-gotten?"
565. When God showed Moses His back,did Moses actually see His crack?Oh, there's so much to ponderabout what actually happened as the Israelites did wanderby the millions through the wilderness of the Canaan outback.
566. We’re all born with a holethrough which God inserts a soul.But at the end, there's doubtwhether She’s keen to pull it back outor just leaves it there, ensnarled in its filthy rig-ma-role.
567. I'll take a little of this orange, this blue, and this green,this red, this cyan, and this aquamarine,and I'll try to paint just the lightthat the moon is spreading tonightover this eerie waterfall scene.
568. So much of online poetry is shitthat I thought I'd make my contribution to it.So, here's a poem just for you.It’s a poem about a shoe.Try it on ─ because who knows? ─ It might just fit.
569. Because I'd been good for a very long while, my parents decided to buy me a crocodile.Then all the kids on the block thought I really did rock.Till two weeks later, another kid’s parents decided to buy him an alligator!Shoot! And now some kid’s braggin’ his parents are gonna buy him a Komodo dragon.Oh, God! ─ Will this neighborhood competition never stop?
570. Because he don’t wanna waste time on a slow learner,the drama teacher's put me on the back burner.But wait! He just offered me one last chanceto participate in next week's Winter Wonderland dance ─if I promise to practice real hard not to trip my partner when I turn her.
571. Let me make it perfectly clear ─there are no crazy people here.No, I don't mind if you look there ─ in fact, feel free to look anywhere.But let me make it perfectly clear ─there are no crazy people here.
572. When you're traveling from here to the hereafter,listen for hints of angelic laughter.And when you see a profusion of light,that takes the darkness right out of the night,know you'll soon be in the company of the almighty universe crafter.
573. When the guy before me managed to flop,I was hoping I'd come out on top.But then the girl who came aftergot the biggest laughterby sneezing out red soda pop.
574. I remember one night sitting alone by the shores of the Pacific Ocean.Suddenly, I saw the dark waves and the moonlit sky become one menacing motion.And for a moment, my mind lost all control,as an existential terror tore through my soul ─and then I was deluged by cold, wet sand ─slimy seaweed ─and empty bottles ─ of Hawaiian suntan lotion.
575. I'd give you the shirt of my back,if you could fix this itty-bitty crack,that runs along the edge of the borderof my undiagnosed thinking disorder,that keeps bumping my train of thought repeatedly off its track.
576. When Shakespeare was in school learning his grammarunder his breath, you could sometimes hear him stammer,"Who are these foolswho teach you to write by these rules?They might as well teach you how to screw in a screw with a hammer!"
577. Uppy and Muppy were guppiesthat I had cuz my mom wouldn't let me get puppies.Then one morning, when they were floating belly up,I said to my mom, “See, you should've let me get a pup.”She said, “Oh, shut up. Or I’m gonna make you gulp those dead guppies up.”
578. There was great joy in the nest of Willy and Nilly.They were getting ready to celebrate themselves silly,as from underneath both their legscame the sound of the cracking of eggs,and out popped the heads of babies Billy, Gilly, and Jilly.
579. Did you see how that cookie crumbled,and then tumbled, and tumbled, and tumbled,from the tabletop down to the floor,and then tumbled and tumbled some more,and did you hear the "Oh no!" that it frightfully mumbled?
580. I find it fascinatingyou're all still sitting here waitingto hear what I have to say.If this lecture hadn't been mandatory,would you have stayed here to hear my oratory?Or would you long ago have snuck away?
581. She asked, "What are you trying to accomplish in your poetry?" I said, "Oh, not that much.I just try to drill down to the essence of a thing and give it a creative, poetic touch."She asked, "And so far, do you think you’ve actually succeeded?"I said, "No, not really. I feel like I’m always being impededby learned critics who think they know so goddamn much."
582. Yes, I actually did meet your momwhen we were both working for Toilets.com.I know it doesn’t sound like a glamourous place.But she had such a pretty face.And she did everything she did with such great aplomb.
583. On the day of the general resurrection,I pray no one will see my rapturous erection!Because I'll be so fricking turned onknowing all the evil of this world will very soon be gone,and that I’ll finally be able to give all the angels all my affection.
584. If you/I were a god limericks / verses a. “If you were a god, would you ever think to makea man and a woman who would be outfoxed by a snake,a man and a woman who, full of free will,would conceive a child who his brother would kill?”“Who, me? No way! Who would, for heaven's sake?”
b. If I'd been god, I never would have createdmankind or anything remotely related.But since this god did, maybe this god's the problem.When you look at all the rot from L.A. to Harlem,the moral decay is of such an ungodly scope,that for a good outcome of this creation, there’s very little hope.
585. Would it be okay if later todayI brought Bixby by to playwith Boris and Doris and Horace and Morrisand Eddie and Ollie and Ray?
586. Summertime on the other sideseems a lot easier for folks to abide.Mothers there get to eat rum pudding cake,as fathers float lazily on a steel-blue lake,and giggling kids whirl around on a kaleidoscope carnival ride.
587. It's unanimous.Everyone in town thinks I'm pusillanimous.Just cuz I was momentarily frightened by that clownwho pulled her too-large clown pants downand began shooting at everyone in the crowd with her animus.
588. Given that it's Seattle, my dog and I often start off our walk when the weather’s dry.But within a few minutes, we’re walking under a dark, ominous sky.And then it starts pouringand then there's no way of ignoringthat it is to time to go get dry, he and I.** Silly echo of ending of Gerturde Stein’s poem “I love my love with a v.”
589. Paddy was a laddy newly betrothed to Addie.They had a baby, Maddie, who was something of a fatty.Paddy said to Addie,"That milk you’re feeding Maddie?You think we could exchange it for a non-fat chicken patty?"
590. We both saw the writing on the wall ─it’s hard to miss when the letters are a good foot tall.But since both of us were of age,we didn't understand the meaning of this sage ─were these words to enlighten, or words to enrage?
591. Geez, the speed limit here is 35!It's a miracle we're still alive.We must've been pushing 80.Thanks God, we missed that lady.Mr Honda's never again gonna let us do another test drive.
592. I really didn’t want to get stuck on you.But you had to smear your lips with all that goo!I think I’ve been outsmarted,cuz now we can’t be partedtill I can pry this kiss offa you.
593. By the third drink, he didn't look half bad.She could even look past the chipped tooth that he had.And by now, she was more sympathetic to his life story ─perhaps she had been too quick to judge it all as vainglory.But why couldn't he think to say something ─ that would make her feel just a little less sad?
594. If it ain't silly,I don't want to hear about it, Willy.And if it ain't crazy,go tell it to Miss Daisy.I'm sick and tired of people who are this mentally lazy.
595. Brooding at the bar, Wishy was being a little bit washy.The whiskey had made his speech a little bit sloshy.I said, "Wishy, I have no idea ─what is it you want me to say?"He moaned, "Trishy was never really Wishy's, now was she?”
596. I coulda benefited from a condom.But I don't think my dad ever had any on 'im.And my mom was never one to insist.So that's basically the gistof how I came to be. Woe is me.
597. In public, I always wear an anti-Covid protection mask,because it definitely serves more than one task.It also keeps me from having to smell other people's halitosis.And assholes won't hear me when I whisper, "Fuck off and go back to hell before it closes."But it does make it more difficult to sneak a sip from my flask.
598. I think in funny rhymes to try to keep my pain at bay.I think in funny rhymes to try to keep insanity away.Because if I just let my thoughts roam,they'd get further and further away from home,and then I wouldn't know ─ where to stay.
599. That pretty woman playing lead guitaris the best of the band in this eatery bar.And by the way she fingers an F minor,it appears she's flipping off every drunk dinerwho's visually undressing her from afar.
600. The scene was idyllic, to say the least,a fruitful garden where God had set the table for a perpetual feast.And when He proclaimed in a joyful voice that it was His willthat each creature or beast could eat what he could gather or kill,not every creature or beast at the feast was overjoyed ─ to say the least.
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