Yet another…
I believe that the limerick form can cheer up even the most horrid of subjects. What do you reckon?
Pioneer said, “Eureka, a plan
I’ll keep pigs on a farm in Iran!
Get your pork” he did shout
“Sausage, bacon and snout”
So they stoned him and blamed the Quran
In celebration at the end of a rather serious February
M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:
“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below. Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”
The night was cold
And creatures old
Came creeping from the deep
And to your bed
Dreams in your head
They come your soul to keep
Long fingers bone
Into your home
The knob they slowly turn
And they possess
The things you bless
And for your keepsakes yearn
They feed on lust
Deceit, mistrust
On hearts so black and busy
They see your lies
Your burning thighs
Here come the fizzy wizzy
And as dawn breaks
Their prey they take
And never to return
Bed empty left
Of life bereft
Take heed and lesson learn
Aah that feels better. Not a mention of the seasons or little golden leaf boats or winters icy fingers…
The haiku, so proud, tight, formal. So little saying so much. Mostly though I like to defile them with the ridiculous. Oh, and I know they’re probably Senryu. I struggle with boundaries a bit.
Took her on a date
She blew her nose, made me gag
Think she’s still single
All a bit wrong
I believe that the limerick form can cheer up even the most horrid of subjects. What do you reckon?
Chap I know met this lass on the net
Got him hot and into quite a sweat
The reveal was a shock
Turned out she had a cock
(And some big hairy balls I would bet
slowly easing myself back into senryu and haiku of a more ridiculous kind.
The haiku, so proud, tight, formal. So little saying so much. Mostly though I like to defile them with the ridiculous. Oh, and I know they’re probably Senryu. I struggle with boundaries a bit.
First time sleepover…
Hes on the spectrum you say?
No hes just a shit
More of the same
I believe that the limerick form can cheer up even the most horrid of subjects. What do you reckon?
Once a POTUS said “Give them all guns
to the teachers, the kids and the mums
to the poor and the sick
to the old and the thick”
“Oh Bravo” said his NRA chums
Aah that feels better. Not a mention of the seasons or little golden leaf boats or winters icy fingers…
The haiku, so proud, tight, formal. So little saying so much. Mostly though I like to defile them with the ridiculous. Oh, and I know they’re probably Senryu. I struggle with boundaries a bit.
He turns from his wife
She cries into her pillow
Turns out he liked men
A real who dunnit…
I believe that the limerick form can cheer up even the most horrid of subjects. What do you reckon?
Once a widow in black at the grave
For her husband did cry, being brave
But when home she’d rejoice
At the fear in his voice
When with candle his head she did stave
In celebration at the end of a rather serious February
Another month of M’s writing prompts lies ahead. I did them all in December but was less successful in January. Let’s see how we do in February shall we.
So cupid woke in quite a mood
thought, “no bugger this lark!
I’m of a mind to be quite rude”
And out he did embark
In search of those who go unloved
Mischievous now his quest
With arrow true, pulled back, take aim
And shoot to lonely chest
With temper foul, his aim not skew
“Just watch this!” he did gloat
And stuck poor Brian, made him love
Old Barnaby the goat
And Barnaby he quite bewitched
His goat loins filled with lust
For Brian in his corduroys
Man/goat love now a must
And cupid laughed and watched them both
Their eyes and bodies burning
A love affair, a passion lit
A tale of cross breed yearning
And to his home Brian did take
Barnaby, who gladly went
And frantic loving they enjoyed
Until they both were spent
And Cupid clapped his hands with glee
his mission quite achieved
he made poor Brian love that goat
and goat seemed rather pleased
And to this day together still
their love endures quite strong
and they take turns at who’s on top
‘cos Brian can’t last long
The devil made me do it.
Another month of M’s writing prompts lies ahead. I did them all in December but was less successful in January. Let’s see how we do in February shall we.
Gentle and tender his caress
pulse races, in his arms
Undying love he will confesses
He’ll never do her harm
She swears she’s his, her searching done
He knows that she’s the one
His roaming days are left behind
She’s his summer and his sun
She melts as lips, so soft and warm
Meet hers and deep she sighs
Her stomach flips, does somersaults
She’s lost inside his eyes
And under sun, both warm and bright
He knows she’ll be his bride
She bites her lip, and whispers sweet
“pop two fingers inside”
slowly easing myself back into senryu and haiku of a more ridiculous kind.
The haiku, so proud, tight, formal. So little saying so much. Mostly though I like to defile them with the ridiculous. Oh, and I know they’re probably Senryu. I struggle with boundaries a bit.
Flushed cheeks ,brow sweating
Tears down your cheeks, fire burns
Tikka masala…
A limerick because why not!
I believe that the limerick form can cheer up even the most horrid of subjects. What do you reckon?
A fellow rotund, barrel chested
Would snore loudly in bed when he rested
‘till his wife cracked and screamed
Bashed his head as he dreamed
She slept soundly in jail when arrested
It’s been a while…
I believe that the limerick form can cheer up even the most horrid of subjects. What do you reckon?
POTUS fond of cavorting in pee
Banged a porn star, big fan of the V
Then he paid her a sum
Not to speak and keep shtum
That’s the norm in the land of the free
A limerick about Andy’s rather dirty wife
I believe that the limerick form can cheer up even the most horrid of subjects. What do you reckon?
Once in Rhyll lived a plumber called Andy
had a wife who when drunk got quite randy
she was game, full of wine
and on beer quite devine
but my god what a tramp when on brandy
Just a little silliness in this sea of seriousness
I believe that the limerick form can cheer up even the most horrid of subjects. What do you reckon?
Friend of mine met a woman called Wendy
who he claimed was incredibly bendy
to applause, whoops and cheers
legs tucked behind her ears
Oh my god! The photos he once sent me
Just the one…
I believe that the limerick form can cheer up even the most horrid of subjects. What do you reckon?
There once was a fellow from Crete
had a quite kinky craving for feet
how he craved toes and heels
cos it gave him sex feels
and the odour he loved, oh so sweet
Not what it seems I assure you.
I believe that the limerick form can cheer up even the most horrid of subjects. What do you reckon?
Once a fellow from Afghanistan…
Okay so I have failed tonight. I tried a couple of places right and ended up choosing Afghanistan, and Tehran and Pakistan thinking I would go a little further afield. As a second line though, no matter how hard I tried all I could think of was these people packing their families up into a van. No matter where I tried to go these poor buggers ended up squashed in the rear of an old battered pickup.
They weren’t going anywhere nice though, not on a holiday or anything. They weren’t even going to the shops to pick up some of whatever people would go to the shops to buy in Afghanistan. Probably toilet roll and crisps like everyone everywhere else on the planet.
No, I had them in a van, accompanied by a goat doing their damnedest to not be where they were. What do I know about these places I then ask myself. Not enough probably – they might be perfectly happy in Tehran shopping for magazines and orange cordial and pillows.
I get I can be ignorant, I suppose we all can be. I might have to do a bit of research and then – if it turns out I was right – then I will happily pack them into a van and have my way with them.
Not that I would. But if I had to.
People are forever musing on here aren’t they. You can’t swing a cat without encountering musings of one description of another.
Not that I would advocate swinging cats. I would not. I don’t even know where that saying comes from. Perhaps it was an old way of measuring things? Now again I repeat that I would not but if I were to swing an animal then it would probably be something a little more manageable like a tortoise or a guinea pig. Cats are notoriously averse to being swung and have far too many sharp and pointy bits to be buggering around with trying to work out how wide your living room is to see if your new sofa will fit.
If I absolutely had to know whether the new 3 piece would squeeze through the door then I would punt for a measuring tortoise. They are a bit short of purchase points though so it’s probably wise to put it in some sort of cloth sack to swing it thereby reducing the chance of losing one’s grip and sending the measuring tortoise soaring through a window. Last thing you want is glass all over and having to use something a little smaller to then measure the window so you can order new glass. If you were in need of measuring a window though, and again this is just hypothetical, then I reckon a squirrel would do the job. Red though not grey, the grey ones are a a bit feisty. If you cant get your hands on a squirrel then maybe try a hamster. A red squirrel is generally equal to 2 hamsters.
Just for reference the Tortoise in the picture above is equal to 7 red squirrels, so 14 hamsters. Or is that a turtle? Doesn’t matter they are pretty much interchangeable.
Oh and for those living in hot countries, do not use a lizard because we all know their tails fall off and the sight of the orphaned tail wriggling about will likely upset the kids. Unless of course you can get your hands on a chameleon they work really well as they move pretty slowly though can be a bugger to find once you’ve put them down. A friend of mine who lays carpets swears by chameleons but goes through two or three a month.
Not that I would though. What a ridiculous and rather cruel idea.
Besides, everybody knows the old fashioned way of measuring things was by swinging small soot faced children, recently emerged from cleaning chimneys or making smocks and bed caps.
You should not like them but you will…
I believe that the limerick form can cheer up even the most horrid of subjects. What do you reckon?
That title is a bit over the top isn’t it. Sorry.
A fellow quite fond of a spank
Gave up his well paid job in the Bank
Now he spends each day addled
High on coke getting paddled
By a 6ft tall angry blonde yank
There one hailed a man from Peru
Without pork he simply could not do
He could not live without
Daily servings of snout
Curly tails, pointy ears, trotters too
Orange man king of U S of A
Cannot stand the poor, sick, black or gay
God forbid you’re all 4
He will kill you for sure
Just as soon as he gets his own way
One’s about putting marrows in one’s bottom…
I believe that the limerick form can cheer up even the most horrid of subjects. What do you reckon?
Once a woman quite fond of baguette
just the shape brought her out in a sweat
the soft inner, hard crust
filled her mind with such lust
and a footlong, well that made her wet
There once hailed a plumber from Goole
Who did not work on loos as a rule
See they made him unwell
Could not handle the smell
God forbid he should witness a stool
A gardner, big veg fan from Leeds
quite depraved in his sexual needs
how he loved to shove marrow
in his passages narrow
then would eat them, apart from the seeds
Drink up before it gets cold.
I have written on the matter of Tea on a number of occasions though it was rather a long time ago and very few people have actually read them. So I am going to rehash these two posts because, as I recall, they were fun and the first also touches on tea-bagging which you dont get to read about every day. The other is about Aliens, and everyone loves aliens right.
https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/29/more-tea-vicar/
https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/27/the-intergalactic-language-of-tea-daily-prompt/
Admit it, you thought it would be about Trump right 😉
just do it!
Not an easy thing really is it. I mean what hasn’t already been said or done? What idea hasn’t been explored time and time again and how many blogs already do something very similar to the one you just created.
You know what, I haven’t been doing this for long so I am hardly in a position to give advice but Im going to. Just keep going at it, as hard as you can because most people are really lazy buggers with no stamina at all and they will probably give up at some point.
You don’t have to be the first to do something or even the best, sometimes working hard and sticking to your guns and not being lazy will get you somewhere. And if that doesn’t work then maybe you’re just not very good at it and need to try something else but at least you tried and that’s more than most people do because a lot of people are just pointless and the world wouldn’t miss them if they were gone.
But not you. You’re special because you’re reading this and somewhere out there are people who want to hear your voice.
Michael
X
I’m no Richard Attenborough obviously. In fact I’n not even a David…
I’ve always had a bit of a love hate relationship with nature. I grew up in Africa so there was very much an abundance of the stuff and we were forever outside. Wherever you went there was flora or fauna of some description and always of the sort of stuff people wax lyrical about. It was an incredibly beautiful place but it can become a bit much.
Pop to the shop and there was inevitably something ‘majestic’ of some description there in your face screaming “Look at me” and waving it’s arms frantically. Each morning the sunrise would require a slack handful of fire related adjectives before it would leave you alone and sunset would quite rudely demand your attention whether you had things you needed to get done or not. What’s wrong with a cold grey morning that lumbers along as you get up or it suddenly becoming dark without you noticing and accompanying fanfare.
It was though a wonderful place to grow up and whether the gorgeous expanses of the Highveld or the wild rugged coastlines it’s the sort of place most people would give an arm to grow up in and I’m really grateful that I did. I’m less grateful however for the vast array of things that wanted to kill us. Whether it be snakes, spiders, sharks, scorpions or any of the larger creatures there was such an array of deadly beasties that it really does tend to spoil things.
“Remember to check your boots for scorpions” was a piece of advice I received in the army that I will always remember.
As much as I loved it there I find England far more inviting and wholly less aggressive. Not that it isn’t completely without event though – occasionally we may have a bit of a slug problem and one day there was a badger that kept knocking over the bins which caused quite a stir. Anyone familiar with Yorkshire or the lake district would probably also agree that we compare pretty favourably to some of the more grand vistas out there even if we are more on the side of ‘picture postcard’.
But we all like different things, I get that.
Michael
that’s me…
Michael. That’s me.
This seemed like a good idea when I did the title but now I am less sure. If you’ve read me for more than a day or two then you know what I’m like and I don’t really need to tell you. I have a wife and kids who I love, a life I enjoy immensely and very few filters or boundaries.
You know what, I think that will just about do.
You really don’t need to know that I love comics or rugby or television or films or coding or laughing or being grumpy, that’s all there for you to see. You don’t need to know that I think Donald trump is a twat and that I find it quite heart breaking to see what he is doing to America because I grew up with all things American and it played a big part in my growing up.
And you dont need to be told that I like to make people laugh and dont take things too seriously and that I have a problem with authority and organised religion. It’s all there to see in my writing.
Thanks for reading and I hope you continue to take some pleasure in what I put out there and if not, meh, I’ll get over it.
Michael
X
If I were not here tomorrow…
Were I to die tomorrow then there are so many things I would not get to tell my boys. As melancholy a thought as it is it is one with which I have of late struggled though something I have yet to remedy. Such words of wisdom that are a father’s to impart would go unsaid and they would quite possibly venture into this world as young men without my deep and considered understanding of so many things.
Whilst their mother would without doubt provide them the support they need as young men I would not be there to explain to them why they should always ensure they place the drill chuck back in the little holder thingy on the handle of the drill to ensure they are not forever heading to the DIY place to buy another.
I ask myself who, if not me, should be the one to explain why darts is a sport and motor racing is not and why being a Yorkshire-man is truly a privilege.
My heart is heavy with the thought that at my passing so ceases the chance for me to impart upon them how a man should approach washing dishes so as to ensure he never gets asked again.
Truly though I believe the greatest gift we can give them is our presence, time and attention without which we cannot pass on our biases and prejudice.
Good god, what if they grow up to be Manchester United fans?
Afterwards 