Stuck in Limbo

Looks like I’ve got another batch of OEDILF limericks sufficient to fill a page, so here they are.

Historical Note: I’ve now copied all of these to another part of the site for easier updating and maintenance; some of these early versions are a bit rough around the edges.

Every possible answer I’d utter,
The quizmaster, ’e would go “uh-uh”.
“So it’s hot, and it’s slow...
It’s a sauna-bath... No?
I’ve got it. It’s lava!” “Yeah, a‘a.”¹

An abridger takes so much away
That you lose any sense of the play
Of the words and [removed]
And yet nothing’s improved—
You can guess what the author would say.

My Dad doesn’t like what’s on top a’
Our outhouse: a roof of new copper.
He said, “But I do go
For roofs of aerugo;
If Mum tries to clean it, you stop ’er.”²

Most viewers of TV athleticism
Like practising low-key propheticism:
Predicting who’ll win
Or who’ll fall on their shin;
But I’m into body aestheticism.³

Take agammaglobulinemia:
There isn’t a malady dreamier.
One’s blood is without
Antibodies, no doubt,
But it’s bloody good for academia.

A Parisian mineral master
Discovered about alabaster
That translucent lime
When ground is sublime
For mixing up into a plaster.

That philatelist was a disgrace—
Storing Penny Blacks in his suitcase!
That’s what albums are for:
Keeping covers and more
All together in just the right place.

The alderman said to the meeting,
“There are five other boroughs we’re beating!
We’re the greatest; the best!”
And so on—all the rest.
All the council are sick of his bleating.

“Our alpha,” the rabbi did say,
“Is aleph; it’s equal to a.
Any Hasidic Jew
Who can write in Hebrew
Handles literally hundreds each day.”

Thoreau’s Walden, a pond most serene,
Had developed an unpleasant sheen.
Henry’s neighbours agreed
It was ’cos of the weed;
Surface algae had turned it all green.

If ever you plan to divorce
Beware what the judges endorse:
It isn’t too funny
To lose all your money
When alimony takes its course.

Thurman thought that her tests were ideal,
But the screener said, “Uma, we feel
That you’re not right for Gattaca
So head back to Attica.
This gene’s not the proper allele.”

The alopex lives near the pole
Where he feeds on the marmot and vole;
And wears socks on his feet
In his wintry retreat:
A cosy Alaskan foxhole.⁴

“I can fix it, no probs, it’s a snap,”
Said the bloke, “The distributor cap
Is just loose, so don’t panic.”
What a charming mechanic—
Altogether a promising chap.

My Italian-made condominium
Had four sides of fine aluminium;
Except there was one
That still wasn’t done,
So I said to the builder, “You fini ’em.”

I call this one “Cartesian Veganism”:

Descartes was consuming roast yam
But pronounced that he’d rather have lamb.
When he tried spinach drink
René ventured, “I think
That I am what I am what I am.”

A professional cook got ’er wish
When a restaurant served up ’er dish
To a critic of note;
But the ignorant scrote
Said ’er efforts were amateurish.

This one should be read in an Australian accent (I was amused by someone who wrote a limerick about Oz in an un-Australian accent):

America’s such a beaut place
But its critics? A bloody disgrace.
They should all piss off home—
We’re the new friggin’ Rome!
As republics go, crikey, we’re ace.

We have the Egyptians to thank
For the symbol we know as the ankh.
A loop on a cross
Mightn’t be a great loss
But it looked good on pharoahs of rank.

The Antarctic’s impossibly white
And its polar snow’s ever-so-bright
In December—all day,
So I’ve heard people say.
During August, it’s always midnight.

When people anthropomorphize
They see things through too-human eyes:
They say a car smiled,
Treat a dog as a child,
Or think of them being our size.

Transgressing the norms of society
Can fill you with nervous anxiety.
If you don’t want to get
An undignified sweat
You should always behave with propriety.

Apocalypse? Why, but of course!
I knew it would come with some force.
The way we’re all dead,
And the sky has turned red,
And the four of you, each on a horse.

“Just leave it, you rock-climbing creep!”
Said a team-mate, “I just want to sleep.
That peak is too high;
If we try it, we’ll die.
It’s arduous. Difficult. Steep.”

1. The first one you could imagine taking place in a pub quiz in London’s East End, where a “t” becomes a glottal stop (“u‘er”); “a‘a” is the Hawaiian word for “slow-moving lava”.
2. Aye-roo-go is verdigris, the green rust on copper and brass.
3. I’m not really a big sporty perv, honest.
4. Alopex lagopus is the Arctic Fox, or alopex.

Sorry if this is getting tedious;⁵ I’m slowing down now.⁶ All this limericking has done wonders for my sense of rhythm and meter, though, which is handy for other poetical projects.

5. No I’m not.
6. No I’m not.

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Added by shauny on a Friday in September.

Added by Rory on a Sunday in September.

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