The Wrong Planet Limerick Thread!

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My rhythms may be disconcerting
But they get there by not averting
What eludes poor Syz
Whom I guess is no whiz
With rhyming - I'm sorry he's hurting.

oh i just mistakenly deleteded my latested hurting
i'l never get that back i'm guessing
but when you're drunk you stop caring
i'm going to go to bed soon
so i'll wish you a good night from this loon
oh i think i just stuffed up 1 two & 5
again

Drinking is real tough on thinking.
And poetry's tough when you're drinking.
Though one beer or two
Or a shot of some brew
Can be permitted - I'm winking.

When Annie was small and appealing
She'd lay back and really start squealing
So they'd tickle her nose
And pinch her toes.
That's when her piss hit the ceiling.

The cosmos seems tied up with strings
That bundle up all sorts of things
Along with dark matter
And some pancake batter
Mixed up by young girls wearing rings.

Dogs come in all sorts of sizes
As one notes as the Sun slowly rises.
Their owners, on leashes,
Can be wrestlers or geishas
Or E.T.s in funny disguises.

Huckabee, Hillary, Barack,
The candidates all are a crock.
McCain's having fun
As Rudy seems done
And the voters are all in deep shock.

I imagined a magnificent limerick
one that was simple yet not simplistic
after days of composing and meticulous tinkering
and I had finished my thinking on a sweet rhyming ending
I catastrophically lost my internet connection I feel sick.

I got drunk again last night
I'm not I'm It's alright
No girlfriend;no meaning
a meandering directionless yearning
just looking forward to tonights inebriated escapist delight.

Annies daily aerobic exertions
gave many poor males coniptions
as she sweated and grunted
and jiggled and grinded
eye's popped jaws dropped pants explosions

Greedy writers on strike must burn
More money it is they yearn
They chant, shout, and grunt
Movie freaks, producers, and directors take the brunt
While we wait for an epic turn

A marvelous bird is the pelican
Whose beak can hold more than his belly can.
He can hold in his beak
Food enough for a week
But I'm damned if I see how the hellican.

If I had a banana-mobile
a sweet idea that appeals
with a bunch of my friends
we could burn skid-marks and then
pick some girls that are bendy and nubile.

An ominous bird is the crow
That caws the things you can't know,
Although some odd maven
May think it's a raven
Like, maybe, Edgar A. Poe

Behold the common house sparrow
That flies as straight as an arrow
To a crumb or a cookie
Or some shapely bird nookie
Then sings out like Eileen Farrow

Beware of the talkative parrot
With a tail the color of carrot.
It reveals, with no shame,
All your sins and your name,
Clearer than shown by tarot.