Her manner is rather abstract
It does not help her to show tact.
She’s in love with ideas
Yet her rents in arrears.
Let’s hope that her ship is not wrecked.
i saw the abstract for your book.
I’d love a much closer look.
I’ll invite you to tea
Then I can see
Just how discerning you look.
I suppose even Monet is abstract,
For his images with bright dots are packed.
I love them so well
As they both show and tell
Precisely what realism lacked
Flimflam’s an under used word,
As most people think it’s absurd.
But it enriches our tongue
It sings its own song.
It’s the lightest word I’ve ever heard.
But some people won’t say flimflam
Just ‘cos it rhymes with goddam.
So never say pluck,
Or you’re down on your luck.
Or the saintly will send you to spam.
I must admit I am surprised
That flimflam in a limerick’s disguised
My unconscious mind
Always manages to find
A rhyme for most words we’ve devised
A difficult word is e.g. aneurysm.
And some folk have no good manners in ’em
Don’t lose your temper
Or the aneurysm might get to you
Rudeness gives rise to despaneurysm
I wonder what rhymes with paroxysm?
There may be some words with no rhyme in ’em
Leonard Cohen hated oranges
So he put olive oil on his bed hinges.
His lover gave him a good time in .em
Freud was a deep and bright man
He invented neuroses , and wham!
We all got laid faster
by this ancient master
I came to and therefore I am.
The shadows of the past haunted Jung
As round him they oftentimes clung
When he span around
They were laid on the ground
But the mere sight of them bitterly stung.
Adler was the disciple number three
He thought power was all,don’t you see?
But he lost Freud’s hand
As it lay on the sand
If anything’s queerer, ‘snot me
Air on the skin feels so good
I’d tear off my clothes if I could
But as I am old
I am not very bold
My bikini has now got a hood
Now it don’t clean the floors
And won’t evermore.
Thus I domesticity flout.
I found coats and bags by the score.
but I cannnot go out any more.
So what shall I do
With the superfluous new?
I hate storing ghosts on the floor
I took all the dirt and perceived
That red rugs are an evil indeed.
So buy one in grey
It’s the in thing today.
And the visitors will be deceived
On the Sabbath we like to pray
But we’ve forgotten what phrases to say.
So we sing without words
Like a large flock of birds.
And that must suffice for today
Her brain is the size of a pea.
Her legs are like the trunks of oak trees.
Her eyes are like the oceans
Her tears make skin lotions;
I mix them with the stings from a bee.
Her smile is like daybreak at night.
She has phenomenalogical sight.
She’s an author de haute
I love toute ses mots
Existentially, this is all very trite
His head is as big as the sun
He has four eyes and they can all run.
His feet are like lead
And so is his bed.
Yet he’s quite as chaste as an old hot cross bun.
My cat is as big as lion
I call her Ms Ariel from Zion.
She bites foxes and sheep
And made a dog weep.
I am unsure if she ought to stop tryin’
Learning:
Phenomenology (from Greek phainómenon “that which appears” and lógos “study”) is the philosophical study of the structures of experience and consciousness.
Phenomenology (philosophy) – Wikipedia, the free …
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Phenomenology_(philosophy)
I was looking at a clothes catalogue just now and thought,
That’s a nice pair of gloves.
When I looked again I saw it was a party dress.
Oh,my.I must need my eyes testing.
I shall be alright as long as I don’t go out in a glove by mistake for a dress.
I went out in a mitten last night
I gave all the neighbours a fright.
They are collecting for me
To buy me some tea….
Now a tea bag would be a fine sight.
Or how about being dressed in some peel
Which off any banana I’d steal.
Then I’d give men the slip
As they slid off my hip
Some days I almost feel real.
All the winter coats are being sold off
As the autumn was not freezing or rough.
But I wear woolen vests,
Which keep off the pests.
Though men are endearingly tough.
They gave me a prick in my arm
And said I must keep it quite warm
So I fell into the fire
Oh,how I perspired…
But as usual I kept very calm
It’s meant to protect me from flu.
And vomiting string and from glue.
But it gave me diarrhea.
I can’t say cr*p here.
So please send me or email a clue.
They try to prevent us being ill.
Yet they also advise writing a will.
Do we never die?
Is this life a lie?
Of questions we all have our fill
It’s heaven on earth when we see
That I am you and you’re me.
We’re all potentially divine,
As beer is like wine…
I now believe we is a flea
I never know what clothes to wear
I wish I could socialise bare
A capito ad calcem
I know not to waltz in.
So shall we stay in and play fair?
“A capito ad calcem” means ” from head to heel”.
So you can see capital punishment probably meant beheading!
Belief in the Lord has decreased
But in Satan belief has not ceased
Advocatas diobili
What an anomaly!
There are many and this is the least
“
“Advocatus diaboli” is the devil’s advocate”,usually used metaphorically I think
My husband is so enigmatic
he makes Mona Lisa dramatic.
Except for the night
The bed set alight
And he screamed on a scale near chromatic.
I said, why do you smoke when we kiss?
Apart from that,love is pure bliss
He said,my heart is on fire,
The smoke ascapes via
My mouth. my nose,my desire
I killed my own father in error
I guess I was blinded by terror.
But now I repent
And will fast all through Lent.
I have dwelt all my life in deep sorrow
My husband stole my shoes yesterday
As for his own,he’s reluctant to pay.
I hope that’s the end
I shall go round the bend
If my clothes keep on going his way.
For what will the doctors all think
If he wears underwear that’s pale pink?
He will say he’s going blind
And that was all he could find.
Then I shall observe all the gay nurses wink
I once had a cat who loved being
Her eyes were much brighter fot seeing
She foresaw the recession
Though not the depression
If only I `d heard her confession
I once read the lines on your face
In between each was a space
I knew what it meant:
that you were sent
to love me and to fill me with grace
I once had a boyfriend from Diss
Who was too shy to give me a kiss.
He gazed with round eyes,
Whenever I told lies
Which rather depleted my bliss.
I rarely tell lies to my lovers
As round me like birds they all hover.
I never succumb
Which makes them feel glum,…
But love is not worth all the bother.
I prefer conversation to sex
And I prefer money to cheques.
We all have our view
On what we should do.
I even prefer talking to texts
My friend is like an FBI interrogator…asking so many questions
Do you have a friend with no charms?
Do you have a friend who alarms?
Well,go hug a tree
And you will then be
Caressed with nature’s own balm
My late mother made me a dress
In which I appeared more or less.
As a girl with a figure
Calculated with rigor
I prefer sums to men,I confess
Are limericks poems or not?
What kinds of mind think they’re rot?
I am unsure
whether they will endure.
Meantime what have I forgot?
I forgot to get up from my bed
I dreamed last night I was dead
But when I drank some tea
I needed to wee…
So I got up and tidied my head.
Are nightmares of use to the mind?
What makes our peace start to unwind?
If I feel insecure
Can I endure,
When my friends seem to become so unkind?
The Earth keeps googling all of us
To see just where we are.
I am feeling rather angst ridden but,
Nevertheless, I care.
The earth is sweet ,the earth is round
It might be a ginger biscuit,
I think I’ll have to gnaw on it.
The earth has many seas on it,
Shall we drink them dry?
You can if you want to do,
I ‘ll just sit and cry.
The earth has googled Nicky Clegg
And found him in Westminster.
She wants to move him up the road,
To somewhere much more sinister.
She googled Osborne wallpapers,
For to decorate the sky.
But her credit card was out of date,
So she’s not allowed to buy.
George Osborne is a merry soul
They gave him all our money
And on Budget morning we’ll find out,
If the outlooks’s sunny.
And David Cameron looks down
To see what we will do.
I think that I might emigrate
And so should all of you.
You want to google Mrs.Earth
We are much too inquisitive,
And now we are all in view.
The earth is square and made from silk
,t hangs upon my wall.
Don’t let David Cameron know.
I think I’ll find a rabbit hole
Alice went down one of them
Look how the rabbits scurry.
Those rabbits know more then we do,
Like all of earth’s dear friends,
Don’t google rabbits please I beg
That would be the end.
No privacy for animals,
No privacy for people
Let’s send google far away,
And climb up the church steeple.
Let bells all ring,let angels sing
And ponder on earth‘s wonders.
We don’t need google earth for that
I once at some cake with a fork
Then I ate up a dandelion stalk.
I was barely three
So do not blame me
My mother was out for a walk.
Dandelion’s good for the bladder.
And for feeding to any spare adders.
If you go yellow tonight
Tell your husband you might.
Oh,I wish I had bought that tall ladder.
I’d peek in your window to see
How angry your husband might be.
And what will he do
With the leaves in your shoe?
I deeply regret I shan’t see,
I once had a doctor called Casket.
Who kept all his eggs in one basket.
When his house set on fire,
He put them all in the fryer.
And into the flames he then tossed it.
Another of my doctors was Fred.
He once tried to climb into my bed.
I said “je t’adore”,
As I showed him the door.
And a virtuous life I then led.
I married a doctor called Baird.
He managed to get my heart stirred.
He was as bald as a coot,
And smelled like ripe fruit.
When I talked he seemed never to have heard.
So when I was filing a suit.
His big eyes filled up with doubt.
He said “What have I done,
That now you me shun?”
I said “Nothing,yet you looked like a brute!”
I packed up my suitcase and left.
My hands signals were not very deft
So I walked straight ahead
And fell into your bed.
Now I’m not Baird, I’m called West.
This morning we woke to bright sun.
This good weather seems to go on.
Yet it’s still winter time
And I cannot rhyme
So now this poor limerick is done!
We went to the market last week.
And saw a young man with a beak
His father was a duck.
What very bad luck.
Because beaks make it harder to speak!
We saw lots of ripe fruit and berries
I am tremendously fond of red cherries.
So we bought two bags full
And proceeded to Mull,
Though personally I prefer Kerry.
Mulling is useful sometimes
Especially when one’s short of good rhymes.
But mulling too much
Is not beneficial as such.
How my heart sings 