Readers of a sensitive disposition should avert their eyes now.It is time to acknowledge the place the limerick holds in impolite society.
There is something about this poetic form that lends itself rather too well to the lewd, the crude and the downright scattalogical. It is, I like to think, a saucy postcard from Poetryland.
Yesterday I dabbled in its origins, early examples and some favourites. But now to the 'hard' stuff. First some lubrication, all from David Bateman's Curse of the Killer Hedge:
There was a young man from Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch*
With a trans-Menai-Strait-travelling cock
From his home he could screw with
A girl in Bontnewydd
That happy young man from Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch
A singer who came from Milano
Had privates made out of Meccano.
He sang bass-tenor, but
By unscrewing one nut
He could also reach mezzo-soprano (ibid)
A sensitive aardvark called Mingus
Found foreplay hard work with no fingers.
But his praises are sung
For his fourteen inch tongue
Gives his ladies a pleasure that lingers.
*** IF YOU ARE OFFENDED BY FILTH OR HUMOUR ABOUT RELIGION - LOOK AWAY NOW ***
Right, that got rid of them - you're not still reading are you? I did warn you. Now to the filth.
I was told these (apart from the final one) by a respectable god-fearing lady dentist at the wedding of mutual friends. It has lead me to the conclusion that a significant number of the best limericks have an ecclesiastical bent, and indeed, a bent ecclesiastic.
There once was a woman from Crewe
Who said as the Bishop withdrew
The vicar was quicker
and slicker and thicker
and two inches longer than you
There was a girl from Aberystwyth
Used to kiss with the lips that she pissed with.
By way of adventure
She fitted a denture
Now she's got a front bum she eats crisps with
The once was a Bishop of Birmingham
Who rogered young boys while confirming 'em.
To comply with his wont
They'd bend over the font
As he pumped his episcopal sperm in 'em.
From deep in the crypt at St Giles
Came some screaming that carried for miles
The curate said: Gracious!
Has Father Ignatious
Forgotten the Bishop's got piles?
When the holy ghost came, say traditions,
Mary acted without inhibitions.
She had God on her side,
And then had him astride,
And in several other positions. (David Bateman, again)
I shall return to this form when you're least expecting it as I haven't shared any of my own with you. But meanwhile you can find more filthy limericks in The Mammoth Book of Filthy Limericks (Mammoth Books)
The final word should come from this (author unknown) limerick I found online for National Poetry Day 2020:
There once was a man from Nantucket,
who, tired of life
inside a lewd limerick,
moved out
and set up home
in a piece of free verse,
situated
just on the outskirts
of Chepstow.
There was a young fellow named Stencil
ReplyDeleteWhose tool was as sharp as a pencil.
He punctured the mattress,
The sheet and an actress,
And dented the bedroom utensil.
Oh, my. Thank you! The LSO is chuckling away.
ReplyDeleteFormidable ! and thanks for my Monday morning laugh.
ReplyDeleteMy half-Welsh dad taught me to say that Llanfair name, but I realize that one of us forgot the three syllables in the middle. Very clever to make a limerick out of that one.
I have nothing to add. Even though I read to thr end.
ReplyDeletenothing beats:
ReplyDeleteThat naughty old Sapho of Greece
said: 'what I prefer to a piece
is to have my pudenda
rubbed by the end'a
the rosy pink nose of my niece.'
Philip - Not entirely sure what the bedroom utensil is... one of your strange practices, no doubt! Good one though.
ReplyDeleteEllie - And I'm sure you didn't even peek! ;-)
Deborah - I especially like the triple 'l' in the middle. More to come on Llanfair...
Dave -
Dave said as my filthy blog ended
There was nothing he could have appended
Though he read top to tip
He's now biting his lip
For the least said, the soonest it's mended.
Hi Duncan! (is that Dead Goods Duncan?) Thanks for your contribution ...you naughty, naughty boy!
I didn't make that one up, but I'm also not sure where I got it from. It may have been one of Nigel Rees' Graffiti books (remember those?). I assumed the bedroom utensil was the chamber pot, but if anyone has a better idea I should, of course, be delighted to hear it for my own nefarious purposes.
ReplyDeleteThere was a woman named lucille
ReplyDeletewho tried a dinomyte stick for a thrill
they found her vagina in North Carolina
and bits of her tits in Brazil.
Thank you anonymous - nice one!
ReplyDeleteTHere was a young man from Montrose,
ReplyDeleteWho had a wet dream, I suppose.
His landlady said,
As she cleaned up his bed,
"That didn't come out of his nose".
Ha ha! Good one!
ReplyDeleteThere was a young lady from France
ReplyDeleteWho got on a bus in a trance
Two passengers fucked her
Besides the conductor
And the driver shot twice in his pants
that is good pissed my pants
DeleteWhen Harry met Sally he plied her
ReplyDeleteWith a bottle or two of strong cider
Because, when she got drunk,
She'd beg for his spunk
To be squirted around up inside her
There was a young vampire called Mable
ReplyDeleteWho's periods were heavy, but stable
On the night of a full moon
She picked up a spoon
And drank herself under the table
There once was a man from Leeds,
ReplyDeletewho swallowed a packet of seeds,
within half an hour,
his dick was a flower,
and his balls were all covered with weeds.