Limericksgreenspun.com : LUSENET : TimeBomb 2000 (Y2000) : One Thread |
A limerick's a five line-ed rhyme. It's syntax must be on the dime. You can say yeah or nay; And word it your way But the rythm's the same every time.
-- Bobbi (webmaster@buzzbyte.com), October 30, 1998
(Applauding for Bobbi) Very Nice!
-- Donna Barthuley (moment@pacbell.net), October 30, 1998.
With my limited English knowledge,/ since I didn't learn it in college,/ here is my second attempt,/ honest and without contempt,/ at joining the literary privileged.
-- Chris (catsy@pond.com), October 30, 1998.
For my friends....*********************
For the dear hearts now hearing the bells,
Who discern change of team from death knells,
I'm wanting to cheer yah,
and sing "the ole Deedah",
rain courage, not vision of hells,....
So I tell you the struggle's not o'er.
There's been no last hoorah, and no gore.
Two Thousand's not yet;
To prepare's the best bet.
Keep crying and laughing,...and more.
-- Donna Barthuley (moment@pacbell.net), November 03, 1998.
Chris...may I humbly suggest for your excellent rhyme:With my limited English *rules*,/ since I didn't learn it in *school*,/ here's my second attempt,/ honest, without contempt,/ at joining the literary *pool.*
Real nice...just needed a little editor magic, three synonyms...I rely on them. .
-- Donna Barthuley (moment@pacbell.net), November 03, 1998.
And to further improve the previous editor's efforts; may I beg your permission to suggest:With my limited English I rule
as I didn't learn it in school
here's my second attempt
honest, with no contempt
at joining the literary pool.
_________
And what's a writer's definition of an editor?
Unprintable.
And what's the editor's definition of a writer?
Unreadable.
-- Robert A. Cook, P.E. (Kennesaw, GA) (cook.r@csaatl.com), November 03, 1998.
Ah,...Robert,....a Dear Heart...The editor thanks the editor and begs humbly again from the poet.
-- Donna Barthuley (moment@pacbell.net), November 03, 1998.
Donna and Robert,Chris is in Quebec for a week.
-- Gayla Dunbar (privacy@please.com), November 03, 1998.
We sit beside great heaps of beans,/Reading the news on our screens./ We'll share all our thoughts/Until those double aughts/Pull us away, so it seems.In the meantime we'll come here for sharing/Debates and rock-throwing and caring./We're virtual pals./Some great guys and gals,/Knee-deep in Y2K preparing.
-- Faith Weaver (faith-weaver@usa.net), November 03, 1998.
Guess one of youse Northerner types who can misspell in francais will have to translate that there poetry thing to that there foreigner-type language ..... or wait until she returns to civilization from Quebec 8<).Has anybody found those camaflauged Canadian geese the Albertainians were going to send down here?
-- Robert A. Cook, P.E. (Kennesaw, GA) (cook.r@csaatl.com), November 03, 1998.
Hey...born and lived in N. Illinois til I was 28....been in California since 1980....ain't nothern or southern now....Chris will probably be appalled, no matter what...hahaha...LOL...ROFL...I love this place!
-- Donna Barthuley (moment@pacbell.net), November 03, 1998.
Faith, those limericks are GREAT! I love them!
-- Gayla Dunbar (privacy@please.com), November 03, 1998.
Only the first verse my friend, Faith...just a little polish...(hoping I know sh*t from shinola)We sit beside great heaps of beans,/Reading the news on our screens./ We'll share all our thoughts/**Til those blame double aughts**/**Ravel our threads at the seams.**
This one is perfect!
In the meantime we'll come here for sharing/Debates and rock-throwing and caring./We're virtual pals./Some great guys and gals,/Knee-deep in Y2K preparing.
-- Donna Barthuley (moment@pacbell.net), November 03, 1998.
Haha! LOVE it!
-- Faith Weaver (faith-weaver@usa.net), November 03, 1998.
Beware the Canadian geese/ They're like wolves hiding in fleece/ We've sent them ahead/ Just as we said/ Your goods and your weather we'll seize! HAHA (evil cackling)
-- Tricia the Canuck (jayles@telusplanet.net), November 04, 1998.
A limerick mistress named D.B./Looks at our ol'rhymes saying, "Let's see.../It just needs a touch here/Not too very much dear/To equal the work of Sir R.D.If only they'd made her the czar/We'd know where, exactly, we are!/She would shoot from the hip/And take no lawyer's lip/Our sweet sheeted bold y2k star.
-- Faith Weaver (faith-weaver@usa.net), November 04, 1998.
For some good Limericks go to Freerepublic.com and check out Doug from uplands Limericks or listen to the George Putnum show kiev 870 am. calif. 12:oo noon - 2:00
-- David (pingpongdave@dreamsoft.com), November 04, 1998.
Wow, looking over my shoulder at the competition maybe its getting ahead, need inspiration for my next batch, any volunteers..... imitiation is the sincerest etc (needed something to boost my ego)
-- Richard Dale (rdale@figroup.co.uk), November 04, 1998.
Thank you Sweet Faith, my friend....what a wonderful present for my Today.I love it too much...no editing from me!
Wishing I could pull all the places where everyone lives closer to my house...a lifetime wish actually...just have more people now I wish were neighbors. (happy sighs)
-- Donna Barthuley (moment@pacbell.net), November 05, 1998.
There once was a young man from BritainOn Diane he was constantly hittin'
But I think I must say
That that's just his way
Of hiding the fact that he's smitten.
-- Uncle Deedah (oncebitten@twiceshy.com), November 07, 1998.
My thoughts exactly. However, I think I detected a small "lover's spat."
-- Gayla Dunbar (privacy@please.com), November 07, 1998.
Agree. Sad, it held real promise of patching up the gulf separating our cultures. Maybe if you talk to her, while I have a word with him, we can.. oooopss....sshhhhhh...here they come.
-- Uncle Deedah (oncebitten@twiceshy.com), November 07, 1998.
Oh Uncle...you are so astute!!!! (standing and applauding) Not a bad rhyme either!!!!
-- Donna Barthuley (moment@pacbell.net), November 07, 1998.
See my other post, I am now a born again new ager, am getting out all my old Isadora Duncan videos,(strange way she died though). May even visit Glastonbury and go UFO spotting etc. Am thinking of joining the druids (who are a nice bunch really). PS have been abducted several times recently, but came back even more talented than before (except at typin)..
-- Richard Dale (rdale@figroup.co.uk), November 09, 1998.
There was a Prophet named Gary, Who's words were exceedingly scary, He told one and all, "Empires will fall", "And your dreams you will all have to bury!"Another Prophet named Ed, Went to the mountains instead, "Here the water is pure, My safety is sure, And my family will stay nicely fed!"
Now the Evil ruler named Bill, Took a very firm grip on the till. He shouted his orders, "Seal all the borders!", "And get rid of those guys on the hill!"
The Army took to the street, And grabbed up everyone's meat. "You must give up each bean", 'cause the would be queen, most certainly means to eat.
But Fate has some cards yet to play, just what they are we can't say. But the affairs of men, are beyond the ken, of those who with keyboards do play.
-- Hardliner (searcher@internet.com), November 09, 1998.
Now a major Wizard named Newt, Out of the blue gave it all the boot. No one knew why, he decided to fly, Back to Georgia and get rid of his suit.Another Wizard named Nunn, who posessed brains by the ton, passed Newt on the way, the very same day, that Newt decided he's done.
Now conspiracy theories abound, and there are many men around, who some do fear, in just over a year, will take over without making a sound.
The World Order might soon be in place, you'd recognize nary a face. But back in the hills, you'd hear faintly the trills, of a fife, as Patriots brace.
For Fate has some cards yet to play, just what they are we can't say. But the affairs of men, are beyond the ken, of those who with nations would play.
The economy is one giant shamble, yet out of the mists there does amble, the ghost of Revere, his visage severe, his message this time is, "Gamble!"
Jefferson shows up too, along with you know who. His words are wise, and we see in his eyes, the spirit of Liberty, true.
"Computers, they are so dumb! Why did you have to succumb? If only you'd paid, for the things that you'd made, in the hills, you'd not hear that drum!"
"Now you've really gotten in deep, and if Freedom's dream you'd keep, you'd better get crackin', and send them guys packin', else the rest of your days you'll weep!"
Now Fate has some cards yet to play, just what they are we can't say. But the affairs of men, are beyond the ken, of those who with history do play.
-- Hardliner (searcher@internet.com), November 09, 1998.
Someone has created a monster here! I never wrote a limerick in my life before today, and now I can't stop! Here's my latest infliction:A modest gal named Jo Anne, told everyone one day, "I can, see a problem here, they're ending a year, and Gee, I'm not even a man!"
(Did you really think I was kidding about using the Ward Nurse's computer?)
-- Hardliner (searcher@internet.com), November 09, 1998.
Hardliner, your limericks are absolutely great!!! The last two are definite keepers. LOL!!! This limerick thing is very addicting. I myself am a dyed-in- the-wool limerick junky.Bobbi
-- Bobbi (volfnat@northweb.com), November 09, 1998.
While the Nurse is away, the inmates will play!There once was an Aggie named Bob, Who hailed from the county of Cobb, He made it clear, to those of us here, that thinking was truly his job.
-- Hardliner (searcher@internet.com), November 09, 1998.
Hardliner, I think you're hooked! And your limericks are great! By your comments, I also just figured out who you are. :-)
-- Gayla Dunbar (privacy@please.com), November 09, 1998.
They're coming to take me away! Just one more!We found ourselves dealing with "Woe", an optimist by nature and so, although some fought, we really all thought, that we just didn't want him to go!
-- Hardliner (searcher@internet.com), November 09, 1998.
Hardliner - brilliant, not only a scout, but a scholar and a patriot.
-- Richard Dale (rdale@figroup.co.uk), November 10, 1998.
Brilliant, one and all...Huzzar, Hardliner!....by the way...I think it was that Englishman who began the limerick monster fun!....What was that quote from Heinlein?? Hmmm? "A poet who reads his own verse may have other nasty habits." LOL....
-- Donna Barthuley (moment@pacbell.net), November 10, 1998.
There once were some folks who loved rhyme.So much, that it wasted our time.
If things don't get better,
and the toilets get wetter,
they soon will be REduced to mime.
-- Bill Solorzano (notaclue@webtv.net), November 10, 1998.
"A poet who reads his own verse may have other nasty habits." LOL.... DEJA VU (or DEJA ECRIT) I have a T shirt to that effect, Limericks - THE TOUR 1998.
-- Richard Dale (rdale@figroup.co.uk), November 10, 1998.
There once were some folks who loved rhyme. So much, that it wasted our time. Hmmmmm 9 out of 10 de yourdon cats say they prefer limericks to boring discussions about storing cans of Whiskas. That leads to an idea for another thread, eat pet food in y2k, when you run out of baked beans. Why not go the whole hog and eat the dog.
-- Richard Dale (rdale@figroup.co.uk), November 10, 1998.
The Nurse is busy elsewhere for a little while!A teacher named Gayla we've got, who's spelling is right on the dot. she really does care, and her brains are all there, but a slueth she simply is not.
The real slueth here is a man named Bill who did his time with smarts and will, the crooks he caught, in battles fought, with those who did do ill.
Uncle Deedah is a sage, print this out and you'll find the page, where his wisdom is clear, Dehydrated beer! So its sure that his mind's in no cage.
Tricia the Canuck's a winner, surely she's not a sinner. She warns of geese, dressed in fleece, but in Georgia they eat 'em for dinner!
A mind that's pure and lacking hate, a sheet she wears to our cyber-date. She gives us grace, she shares this place, and in so doing makes us great. The lady named Faith prepares each day, for that which Fate may send our way, in cyberspace, she sees the race, so carefully hear what she has to say.
Chuck, who drives in the Night, nearly always tells it right, he's done it 'afore, 'midst chaos and gore, and warns us, "Don't sneer; it just might!"
Richard, who's thoughts, are binomial, is certainly no, "Damn Colonial!" His rhymes are quite nice, even reading them twice, and his demeanor is surely most jovial.
Diane who's head some call bubble, and say that it's filled with rubble, has a view that is deep, and worthy to keep, and's matched only by the eye we call Hubble.
Anita, Deborah and Chris, our nurses surely we'd miss, if away they would go, it'd surely be slow, so let's send them each a kiss.
The doctor named Ned has a brain, that once provided me pain, but it turned out just right, 'cause his numbers though tight, resulted in net mental gain.
Another docter, R.D., although he's masked can see, that our digits by two, are a couple too few, and obviously don't need three!
The Voice you know as Hardliner, tries hard to cut it finer, he hides his name, but not in shame, and has been to Asia Minor!
Uh oh! Nurse has a needle again (Thank God it's not a Foley!) Later. . .
-- Hardliner (searcher@internet.com), November 10, 1998.
(notice the shameless, cute, and quivering lower lip)
-- Donna Barthuley (moment@pacbell.net), November 10, 1998.
I'm loose again, and Nurse gave me a GREAT shot!Bob Mangus, a defuser of bombs, is running for the land of the palms, he doesn't believe it, he just can't conceive it, "They think I want nothing but alms!"
Jack Sprat is our forum crier, and of patience a genuine trier, he doesn't give up, he's just not a pup, and he certainly isn't a liar!
Mike Taylor's a good hearted soul, and it shines brightly right through the hole, in the shield that he hates, but needs in debates, when others deride his role.
Arnie's a guy with class, his comments are never crass, he was out in his yard, when it hit him hard, that the 'net could save our ass!
Well, I told you it was a great shot!
E. Coli's a bug that's neat, helps digest the things that we eat, but many in here, just simply don't hear, they're afraid when he's out in the street.
There's a guy who's done a stint, with zeros and ones, named Flint, but his minds's larger by far, than a huge pickle jar, and really, that's just a hint!
Hard to believe that I'm typing this with a straitjacket on ain't it? (I've got a pencil in my teeth)
-- Hardliner (searcher@internet.com), November 10, 1998.
Donna,I hope you're not pouting because I missed a return between yours and Faith's. (Uh, you two don't happen to be telekinetic Siamese twins by any chance?) Oops! Here's Nurse!
-- Hardliner (searcher@internet.com), November 10, 1998.
(Winking) Actually Faith and I just found each about almost six months ago after being separated at birth in a previous life...Thanks for noticing. I have sisters by birth...she is mine by choice!What ever the nurse is putting in your hypo...sheesh...you could share!!! LOL
-- Donna Barthuley (moment@pacbell.net), November 10, 1998.
On the rampage once more; Nurse is off of the floor! and the place I got shot sure is sore, but the medicine's whack, made me take a crack, at looking behind that locked door!It's a limerick! He He He!
The folks who liked rhyme, found it filled up their time, and prevented them from dabbling in crime, but things didn't get better, and the toilets got wetter, and then they were slipping in slime!
Away all boats! Man the chandeliers!
-- Hardliner (searcher@internet.com), November 10, 1998.
In slime they did slip, not getting their grip, their outlook was not for the better.Till Diane did appear and told them they weird, for she's at the end of her tether.
The nurse shall return, her tushie will burn with needles and meds to keep quiet.
Diane, she knows best, and at her request. she'll get well on a leafy green diet.
This is kinda fun. Never tried before
-- Bill Solorzano (notaclue@webtv.net), November 10, 1998.
Wow! I can see once ag'in! That sure makes it easier in, the Nurse's chair, to see what's there, in my previous verbal din.Uh oh! I should have said, what was somewhere back in my head, the lines that I sent, were somewhat bent, and I should have said this instead.
The folks who liked rhyme found it filled all their time, and prevented them dabbling in crime, but things didn't get better, they only got wetter, and then they were slipping in slime!
My head is bursting with more, it's really getting quite sore, but I just can't quit, 'least not for a bit, 'cause you're all more important than Gore.
Paul Davis works for the Corps, but sometimes he finds it a chore, the people irate, to just educate, but really we couldn't ask more.
The Nurse is coming back, but I, behind my back, have hidden the key, that will set me free, when I next exercise my knack.
-- Hardliner (searcher@internet.com), November 10, 1998.
It's time the truth be told, that before I was very old, I visited Blarney, (that's where I met Arnie), and kissed the Stone of old.Now Magic Stones you think not, but I'm here to show you they're hot, the one on the wall, did this all, not long after I was a tot.
The quirk for years lay hid, 'til yesterday you bid, in a digital way, to hear my say, and so for you I did.
But now a serious post, to the men that I love most, Sousa's pride, what a ride! Two hundred twenty three years; a Toast!
First with John Paul Jones, they scattered enemy bones, they fought for you all, long, short and tall, in spite of the woundeds' groans.
Then O'Bannon went on a walk, 600 miles, "Walk the Talk", the sand was deep, it wasn't cheap, but these men would not baulk.
Then later, the Mexican War, produced hideous lots of gore, the Army fell back, 'fore the young boys attack, and these men wrote a page in their lore.
The Great War came and went, and still our country sent, these chosen few, who all loved you, and died as if for Lent.
Then the island known as Wake, tested as if to shake, a faith so pure, 'cause they were sure, and they knew what was at stake.
Then there came some more, of the eternal Asian War, "We're tired of this, we want some bliss, to settle on America's shore".
Today they stand and wait, Will Willy take the bait? "We don't like war, we want no more, we want a peaceful state!"
So here's to the men in blue, who's hearts are hard but true, they'll never quit, that's just it, they're Jarheads through and through.
And if I climb those stairs, I expect to see in pairs, these men in blue, who so loved you, bunking in angel's lairs.
So to the Leatherneck's Corps, I raise my toast once more, bless you all, great and small, Happy birthday gyrenes, Pour!
I'll shut up now and listen to you, but you must promise too, to convince the Nurse, to read all my verse, so I can get out of this zoo.
-- Hardliner (searcher@internet.com), November 10, 1998.
Hardliner, we're worried about you.I think you belong in that zoo.
The stress took it's toll,
You think you're on a "roll,"
But it's really the Y2K flu.
-- Gayla Dunbar (privacy@please.com), November 10, 1998.
Wow, Hardliner and Bill I'm going to slink off into a corner. How can I follow that! I think you outdid me again, pipped at the post.
-- Richard Dale (rdale@figroup.co.uk), November 11, 1998.
Folks, it's just not right, these straps are just too tight, it's so cold in this ward, I'm stiff as a board, and some of the guys in here bite!Bill, that's really hot. Bashful I'll bet you're not, so come on in, and we can win, the Psych Ward's nuttiest spot.
Gayla, you're actually wrong, please sing us another song, the ailment's not flu, it's alphabet stew! but alone, we'll not last long.
Gayla, don't be so cruel, in here they feed us gruel, but forget the soup, and join the group, 'cause if you were here it'd be school.
Richard, if you're really pipped, don't tell us that you've been whipped, join us here, you are our peer, and we won't feel we've been gyped!
I've lately been working on Nurse, she's getting addicted to verse, but I still must take care, when using her chair, to keep the limerick terse.
Robert the Aggie we need, an engineer who can read, if we're to escape, bring some tape, and we'll certainly let you lead.
Donna, we need you yet, the Nurse's attention to get, while the lock we'll pick, with Robert's trick, that scheme would work, I'll bet!
Come on in, one and all, we'll really have a ball, and when we're done, with all the fun, we'll gather in Yourdon's Hall.
-- Hardliner (searcher@internet.com), November 11, 1998.
Hardliner, I'm so embarassed 'bout the pout.
It took some time to figure it out.
My sheets were flapping;
my smarts caught napping.
Must read verse TWICE before I spout!
***************
-- Donna Barthuley (moment@pacbell.net), November 11, 1998.
The Nurse is calling roll, she doesn't know I stole, her password to, this cyberzoo, but that's a tiny goal.Donna it's very clear, we need you badly here, your brain's ok, we all say, and Deedah! Bring the beer!
This really must be short, this post I must abort, the beans and rice, may get some lice, 'less I fumigate the fort.
-- Hardliner (searcher@internet.com), November 11, 1998.
That Hardliner is really possess-ed!He's performing as if being test-ed
Ahead of the pack
And not looking back
It seems that Sir Richard's been bested.
-- Uncle Deedah (oncebitten@twiceshy.com), November 11, 1998.
The fort is under control, and Nurse has finished the roll, so here I be, as you can see, while Nurse is off on a stroll.Uncle Deedah that was bad, Sir Richard's verse is just a tad, British stiff, but only if, his idioms English, make you mad.
Now I must drop the ball, and quickly leave this hall, or Nurse by half, will never laugh, should I ignore her call.
-- Hardliner (searcher@internet.com), November 11, 1998.
To maintain freedom, there's a price to pay,And so upon this Veteran's Day,
I want to thank you all,
For answering the call.
And for our troops in the Gulf- please pray.
-- Gayla Dunbar (privacy@please.com), November 11, 1998.
"I will return" and wipe the floor with the lot of you, seems you take my compliments too literally. Though that is to be expected.
-- Richard Dale (rdale@figroup.co.uk), November 12, 1998.
Nurse is off again, probably engaged in sin, so here's some more, as out I pour, yet more of my twisted spin.Richard, yes, come back, but please don't take a whack, at those of us here, who have no fear, of another British attack!
In the future 2000 lies, we'll surely get a surprise, we all must pull, but not the wool, over each other's eyes.
So if the floor you'd wipe, please don't take a swipe, "Ve'll do it tagedder, dot'll work bedder, at each udder ve must not snipe!"
I hear the Nurse's return, and soon the needle will burn, but that's alright, I'll sleep tonight, and surely it's my turn.
-- Hardliner (searcher@internet.com), November 12, 1998.
Well now I've had my nap, and Nurse is on my lap! she's showing me how, and I know now, that before I could only rap.Lest you think I've forgot, I promise you I've not, the names of all, in Yourdon's Hall, so soon you'll see your spot.
Rick the Reporter's a skeptic, we hope he's not dyslectic, that would make it quite tough, his readers to bluff, and give him an ulcer, peptic.
Damian S. is a guy, who's interested in the sky, he listens to Art, he's really quite smart, so all of that stuff he don't buy.
Blondie Marie's got power, and she sure doesn't live in a tower, she's made it quite clear, that she has no fear, and with pigs she refuses to shower.
Kevin's a skeptic for sure, don't try to give him manure, he'll give it right back, in a garbage sack, and show you the Internet tour.
Gregg Sugg's perplexed, he wonders if the world is hexed, he sees it all, through our crystal ball, which he knows is not a text.
Humpty Dumpty's not heard often, maybe his shell will start to soften. Deedah's beer, may help him here, if only he can keep from coughin'.
Arlin Adams stakes his claim, to everlasting forum fame, "With aliens not, Art Bell has shot, in truth it seems quite lame!"
Consider Mister Witcher, he simply got no richer, he bought gold, but should have sold, or been a baseball pitcher.
Ann Fisher with a smile, tells us, "By a mile, the truth is rote, you cannot vote, to make it suit your style."
A Voice called Weeping Soul, has fallen into a hole, of dark despair, that curls your hair, when counting the bodily toll.
James Chancellor's words are droll, and I think he sees the hole, but is there a chasm, between his sarcasm, and the perception of Weeping Soul?
Leska's words are clear, you may not do it here, "If you smoke, you must toke, somewhere else, my dear!"
Franklin J.'s okay, all he wants to say, is, "If I give, your place to live, you cannot say me nay."
PShannon is quite right, whatever comes that night, will be quite new, to me and you, and then we'll see the light.
Tony Maye is new, and wonders just like you, "Am I nuts, or just a putz, or maybe it's all true!"
Bob Barbour lives down under, where Nature's split asunder, the islands three, and he says, "See! The Western one's a blunder!"
But not to be so mean, Australia's really keen, I've been there twice, and got no lice, but never saw the Queen.
Traveller does assert, for tellin' all the dirt, on Y2K, in USA, the messenger gets hurt.
Hallyx comes on strong, he usually isn't wrong, an Orwell fan, he's a man, who says we haven't long.
Tom Carey's been around, his wisdom does abound, in twenty five, he came alive, by now his thoughts are sound.
Craig's really from the nexus, and he sent his pals to Texas, but there the roll, 's in Espanol, and "No habla!" won't hex us.
Then to New Orleans, they went without their beans, they lost their pants, to the fire ants, and retreated without their jeans!
Then they gave Georgia a try, but an Aggie spit in their eye, they couldn't find, 'cause they were blind, the way to their ship in the sky.
Now the moral here is clear, of Aggies you'd better steer, a berth quite wide, or you'll divide, your force in confusion and fear.
Steve, "Are you from Milwaukee? That's way too cold for me! the snow's too deep, we'll let you keep, it all 'til it's melted free.
The guy named J.D. Clark, is the one who provided the spark, that lit the fire, "Forget the wire, wood stoves will beat the dark!"
"No Spam", who's not all wet, frequently says, "I'll bet, more than a dime, we're out of time, the clock will beat us yet!"
Buddy, who's from D.C., has chosen to wait and see, "You Prophets of Doom, with all of your gloom, have not yet converted me."
Rocky's an engineer, and I think he drinks Deedah's beer, he always knows, just how it goes, and usually makes it clear.
PNG has class, but even under a glass, we don't know, if his name's Joe, or Pacific Natural Gas.
Now it's time for Nurse, to show you her first verse, she's not shy, and so she'll try, if you're not just averse.
"I'll tell you I'm not a man, nor am I a Clinton fan, and neither more, should we have Gore, they both belong in the can."
And now we've got to go. If you just have to know, Nurse and I, are going to fly, this Ward and see a show.
-- Hardliner (searcher@internet.com), November 12, 1998.
Hardliner!!!! You are astonishing. And may as previous posters have suggested have way too much time on your hands...but I don't mind at all....I've been building limericks in my head for days....and Sir Richard should be pleased as rum punch for what he started.As friends of mine have suggested, and Aldous Huxley has hinted...what good is being sane in the land of the insane, UNLESS you can make it work?
-- Donna Barthuley (moment@pacbell.net), November 12, 1998.
Hardliner, your poems are funny/ And sometimes right on the money,/ I hope you're not sick,/ Nor feeling too ick,/ (Did you just call your nurse, "Honey"!?!
-- Tricia the Canuck (jayles@telusplanet.net), November 13, 1998.
Yes second Donna, pleased as Punch. I'm not sure whether this expression refers to Punch the character/magazine or the drink. The limerick juggernaut thunders on. I think Huxley was highly intelligent therefore sane.
-- Richard Dale (rdale@figroup.co.uk), November 13, 1998.
Donna, I'm just insane, but I try not to be inane, I hope my verse, is not a curse, nor boring, in the main.As your friends suggested, Huxley's not been bested, being sane, is a genuine pain, I tried it. I was even tested.
Tricia, you're very perceptive, I've found Nurse quite receptive, so she and I, often fly, but with outsiders we're usually deceptive.
Richard, bring the punch, as we drink we'll read in Punch, those of us here, will surely cheer, the stories of him named Punch.
English is so weird, but if you grow a beard, no one'll know, it won't show, your chin that's triple tiered.
Now I will soon be done, your names to rhyme in fun, but never fear, for very near, another thread's begun.
-- Hardliner (searcher@internet.com), November 13, 1998.
I'll get some Punch on my next trip to Calais (to stock up with cheap booze) via Le Shuttle. If nursey will let you have it (or hide it under the pillow). PS long-time tradition of Brits is to regularly clean out the French supermarkets of any remaining alcoholic bottles. You can get good quality AC wine from about #2 upwards, beer is given away practically. Any food of course is half the price and 20x the quality of anything in the UK. And there's duty free of course.
-- Richard Dale (rdale@figroup.co.uk), November 13, 1998.
Richard, I remember well, the ferry through the swell, from Maidenhead or Kent, the journey is well spent, for Frenchmen treat one well.But French wine's oh, so-so, German's better, though, the best by far, comes in a jar, from N Zed land, not so?
When it's Summer there, and the grapes are bare, to the rays, through the haze, Old Sol's gift does fare.
The Earth is closer then, and it's Summer when, down under skies, delight one's eyes, from mountaintop to glen.
So if you'd have the best, you must never rest, even if slow, down under go, the wines there meet the test.
As for the pillow, my friend, I think you've gone 'round the bend, Nurse would never, simply ever, that dastardly "booze rule" end.
-- Hardliner (searcher@internet.com), November 13, 1998.
ROFL!! I go away a few days and you guys have fun behind my back!I had forgotten this thread till I stumbled on it again today. I'm mesmerized by Hardliner's seemingly new found genius with the english language. Sheesh! How come women can talk so much, but only men seem to have such ease with elegant expression?!
Donna, I have a bone to pick with you! Do you have any idea how hard I worked on that limerick? Here I was, all puffed up with pride, and here you come waltzing in bursting my fragile bubble! (pout). At least I'm not alone with my pride hurt, hey Richard? >;-) Hardliner! He TALKS in limericks!! (I have to be careful not to fall in love with him now, geez! I'm a married woman.)
-- Chris (catsy@pond.com), November 13, 1998.
Oh Chris,...don't pay any attention to me...I was in one of those "editing" moods....your limerick was great and I was in ""assisting frame of mind....Please, your limerick was wonderful...poets or aspiring poets need to develop thicker skin and expect other irritable poets to hint at you. :) (smiling big)
-- Donna Barthuley (moment@pacbell.net), November 13, 1998.
Look who's back! It's Chris! your presence we did miss, but let your pride, take a ride, and me you'd best not kiss.'cause Nurse is really jealous, and she would never tell us, but with some knives, she'd take our lives, and cremate us and sell us.
As far a genius goes, everyone in here knows, "Idiot savant, he's very gaunt, and Hardliner plays with his toes!"
Now we've finally got a sign, it says with Roman line, "Yourdon's Asylum, don't revile 'em, they're in here by design!"
So Chris, come see us soon, and remember to bring your spoon, we serve rice, and cook it twice, and cackle and howl at the moon!
-- Hardliner (searcher@internet.com), November 13, 1998.
Hardliner, it would now appear, is the veritable peer of the bard Shakespeare.
-- Richard Dale (rdale@figroup.co.uk), November 16, 1998.
Richard, if your soul you'd save, from torment beyond the grave, you'd better think hard, 'fore insulting The Bard, else eternally you'll be Satan's slave!
-- Hardliner (searcher@internet.com), November 16, 1998.
I am already, I've nothing to lose!
-- Richard Dale (rdale@figroup.co.uk), November 17, 1998.
Sir Richard, more's the pity, you've gotta get away from the city, the Devil's a rat, even I know that, already, your outlook's gritty!
-- Hardliner (searcher@internet.com), November 17, 1998.
Yes but I have the power, overall for to glower, 666 can be fun, you all better run.
-- Richard Dale (rdale@figroup.co.uk), November 17, 1998.
Smitten?, coming from once bitten,Gunshy, answering twice shy,
What makes you think,
I cant clink my drink,
With Brits once their spirit doth fly?
And...
Hardliner is certainly committen,
To seeing we arent all once bitten,
Twice shy, whos that guy?
Is he living a lie,
Or possibly visioning quite high?
(Richard, shes b-a-a-c-k, Isadora, I mean. Probably reincarnated by now).
-- Diane J. Squire (sacredspaces@yahoo.com), November 17, 1998.
Diane, excellent, (am I really saying this, aaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrgggggggggghhhhhhhh) trailing off into the distance as I jump off Beachy Head.
-- Richard Dale (rdale@figroup.co.uk), November 17, 1998.
Richard, Jarheads won't run, from a Devil who's no ones's son, far or near, we conquer fear, with Love, or more ususally, a gun.Diane, that's really terrific, it's supercallefragilistic, in the eye of the Brit, you're now seen with grit, soon your pronouncements will be seen as Pontific!
-- Hardliner (searcher@internet.com), November 17, 1998.
Hardliner you'll have to stay back with the mime, don't get too far ahead in your rhyme, I'll take it one step at a time,
-- Richard Dale (rdale@figroup.co.uk), November 17, 1998.
From my bed to the 'puter I rose, to find cyper-friends knee-deep in prose, don't know whose is better, my pants just get wetter, and milk has come up through my nose!
-- madeline (runner@bcpl.net), November 17, 1998.
Spewing milk out through one's nose, is a characteristic of those, who see laughter as honey, and mirth as money, in a world where anything goes.It's clear who's verse is better, Madeline, who's pants got wetter, gets the prize, large economy size, she's truly a laugh-trend setter.
-- Hardliner (searcher@internet.com), November 17, 1998.
I second that Hardliner, Madeline's was much better, I went ROFL, you could hear me cackle, imagining her milk's nose-router! :D
-- chris (catsy@pond.com), November 17, 1998.
Richard, I just know youll soon try flyn But jump in beachy direktions youll be dien You know what they say About intentions paving the way, Id rather see you jump up, towards de sun.(And moon.) Diane
-- Diane J. Squire (sacredspaces@yahoo.com), November 17, 1998.
Had a strange time dilation experience, listening to Mahlers 8th, seemed like hours had passed yet it was only a few minutes. Yes perhaps Mahler really is that boring, my musical jury is still out on him, though I have for the first time started listening to him and Bruckner. That combined with posting on de yourdon is truly a sign of going gaagah (or even Deedah). Donna, you're a music teacher, what do you think of Mahler, it seems he packs as many notes into 50 minutes that Ravel does into 10. Wish he'd stay clear of all that oompah stuff, I suppose his slow movements are effective, though even his scherzos are slow.
-- Richard Dale (rdale@figroup.co.uk), November 18, 1998.
Then there is President Bill/who knew that this snafu could kill/so he stashed lots of gold/and cigars pre-rolled/and said,"I will be king of the hill!" Then there's Paloma O'Rilley/who passed out advice with a smiley/Said,"Although I will/don't you head for the hill/I will be back to help in a while-y!"Don't forget Peter de Jager/who worked people up to a lather/he now says,"No go/the storm-it won't blow!"/I can't take much more of his blather!
There's a fine lad named Gar-y/whose writings are not filled with glee/Says,"Store food and water/and tell son and daugher/it's gonna be TEOTWAWTI!"
-- madeline (runner@bcpl.net), November 19, 1998.
I'm real keen on Mahler's Fourth,
and "Songs for Dead Children" have worth.
Also pick up some Copland,
especially the openin'
of "The Quiet City", Rick, go forth!!!
-- Donna Barthuley (moment@pacbell.net), November 19, 1998.
I've figured that now is the time/to say a "thank you" with a rhyme/to Mr. Ed Yourden/who got us to hoardin'/and to stop trusting Government slime
-- madeline (runner@bcpl.net), November 19, 1998.
When posting to this forumobserve proper decorum,
start a thread,
go to bed,
and check it in the mornin'
-- Robert Michaels (sonofdust@net.com), November 19, 1998.
Wear a flame-retardant suit, And asbestos shield, to boot, To avoid the wrath Which others hath, When you act like an old coot.
-- Tricia the Canuck (jayles@telusplanet.net), November 20, 1998.
Donna, isn't the 4th the very odd one (to my ears anyway). What is your opinion is the definitive late 19C grand orchestral music, before it got blown away by Schoenburg etc. Who IMO along with Le Courboisier and Picasso led the 20C along a cul-de-sac, we're still in BTW. I'm sure that any competent amateur could compose a 12 tone piece indistinguishable from Schoenburg, not so with other composers such as Ravel. What about Stockhausen! (or Blockhausen) listening to him once years ago, the LP record got stuck, no-one noticed for at least 5 minutes, the emperors clothes once again.
-- Richard Dale (rdale@figroup.co.uk), November 20, 1998.
Please return hardlinerNothing could be finer
Than to read your poetry
That has women in ecstasy
-- Richard Dale (rdale@figroup.co.uk), November 20, 1998.
May I point out to you Rick,
that this thread is called Limerick,
your verses have 4 lines,
I will start to charge you fines,
so don't be slick ;)
-- Chris (catsy@pond.com), November 20, 1998.
Oh mea culpa my dear old chrisI have fallen into the poetic abyss
I have forgotten a line
For the very first time
This has been a lesson for my advanced hubris
-- Richard Dale (rdale@figroup.co.uk), November 20, 1998.
Liar liar!
Pants on fire!
There's another 4 lined verse,
in the thread of Hardliner's and his Nurse,
and I also saw one, prior! ;P
-- Chris (catsy@pond.com), November 20, 1998.
For Rick, who likes music of Ravel,
me also, his tone colors that swell.
"Cinq Pieces Enfantines",
rarely heard,
rarely seen,
"Menuet Pour Le Piano (for Haydn)" I play well.
Then Claude Debussy, mon ami.
I am quite a strong devotee.
A transporting tune
is "Clair de Lune",...
"Children's Corner Suite", fancy and free.
It's music, in part, that keeps me sane,
or insane, if you will,...they are the same.
Should Y2K come
to change my sweet home,
I'll play all with joy that's not feigned.
*********************
-- Donna Barthuley (moment@pacbell.net), November 21, 1998.
Catty, catty, Miss ChrisTo count these stray lines of bliss.
Why? Why? You cry.
Wellllll, I sigh:
Less the Canadian geese will hiss.
-- Robert A. Cook, P.E. (Kennesaw, GA) (cook.r@csaatl.com), November 21, 1998.
Accused of writing four line verse And of being linearly terse Its enough to drive a man to drink And to the edge of insanity's brink(drat another quadruplet)
-- Richard Dale (rdale@figroup.co.uk), November 23, 1998.
Just keeping this thread near the top
so all can read poetic sop
Y2K or none
our rhyming is fun;
I'm short on time, don't call a cop!
-- Donna Barthuley (moment@pacbell.net), November 24, 1998.
Her last one was just a bit lame, But oh it was cute just the same. Our Donna's a poet, She just didn't know it. She's quite the poetical dame!
-- Bobbi (volfnat@northweb.com), November 25, 1998.
Uncle Deedah it's so fine, now that you are back online, you must know that you were missed, especially you limericks, Welcome back cause it's 'bout time.Are we the leaders is a thread, read it to see what was said, this forum where you're resident, you're nominated President, now don't let this go to your head!
Rob (formerly Robert)
-- Rob Michaels (sonofdust@net.com), November 25, 1998.
"Deedah for President" the thought fills me with dreadWith his finger on the button we'll surely all end up dead
I suspected this for a while
He'll get elected just through guile
Underneath that frontier disguise he's really just a "fed"
-- Richard Dale (rdale@figroup.co.uk), November 25, 1998.
In the system a bug lays in waitready to seal all our fate
while this causes us fear
it is certainly clear
we will all be hopeful on THE DAY
When the bug rears it's ugly electronic head
on THE DAY that we all truly dread
the Pollyannas' will moan
the Doomsayers' will groan
and our fate will finally be known
In the end ALL is left to chance
do we sit by or take part in the dance?
Don't let life pass you by
fore in the blink of an eye
life may just slip through your hands.
eh... I gave it a shot
a limerick poet I simply am not
I do however contend
that still in the end life is fleeting take for granted you not.
yeah, this is fun.
Mike
=====================================================================
-- Michael Taylor (mtdesign3@aol.com), November 25, 1998.
I've been on a journey for days, and watched carefully, people's ways, they're all the same, they think it's a game, but these days, it's changing that pays.They go about their tasks, and not a one of them asks, "What can we do, that'll help us through, the troubles this century masks?"
To the approaching carnage they're oblivious, if they think at all, they think, "impervious", "Bump in the road, you silly old toad!" they crow, never knowing they're spurious.
Our culture's epitaph'll be brief, No granite, no date, no carved leaf, "Bump in the road, you silly old toad!" but it's not a bump, it's grief.
I wish I had better to say, but tomorrow'll be just like today, "Bump in the road, you silly old toad!" That's the watchword of Y2K.
-- Hardliner (searcher@internet.com), December 01, 1998.
"Bump in the raod, you silly old toad"The unwashed masses do you constantly goad
But what if its a crevasse
Some kind of terminal impasse
You'll need friends to help you through what will be forbode
-- Richard Dale (rdale@figroup.co.uk), December 02, 1998.
Find time to prepare, where oh where When current problems their heads do rear And denial-heads cover themselves with sand When y2k hits who knows where we'll land A little levity now helps allay our fears.Buckets for grain and buckets for beans Long johns for the bod and where's my jeans Solar panels and batteries, H20 and chlorine A grinder, a lamp, oh how shall we clean Bug out or stay, first this then that way I lean.
My family I love I'm a peaceful dove they don't get it but I'm sure they will we'll be together still.
-- Virlie Maner (MstMtnRain@aol.com), December 30, 1998.
This nostalgia will sure get me skewered,
reviving a thread! We need fewer.
But the world so needs poets
along with the 'o-ats',
to help make us wiser and newer.
-- Donna (moment@pacbell.net), October 08, 1999.