Poems Rewritten as Limericks
Foaming Draught
Shipmate
in Heaven
You might have come across familiar poems re-written as limericks. Like these:
The Raven
There once was a girl named Lenore
And a bird and a bust and a door
And a guy with depression
And a whole lot of questions
And the bird always says “Nevermore.”
Footprints in the Sand
There was a man who, at low tide
Would walk with the Lord by his side
Jesus said "Now look back;
You'll see one set of tracks.
That's when you got a piggy-back ride."
Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening
There once was a horse-riding chap
Who took a trip in a cold snap
He stopped in the snow
But he soon had to go:
He was miles away from a nap.
Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night
There was an old father of Dylan
Who was seriously, mortally illin'
"I want," Dylan said
"You to bitch till you're dead.
"I'll be pissed if you kick it while chillin’."
I Wandered Lonely As a Cloud
There once was a poet named Will
Who tramped his way over a hill
And was speechless for hours
Over some stupid flowers
This was years before TV, but still.
@Clarence challenged me to rewrite a poem as a limerick for her upcoming birthday. There'll be more to come, with which I won't task your patience or the Ship's bandwidth, but here is what came off the top of my head. So let your limerickishness loose on classic poetry!
There once was a Marvellous poet
Who wrote, of his love, “I must show it!”
But his world weren’t enough
Nor his time, and that stuff,
So he just bought a bottle of Moët.
The Raven
There once was a girl named Lenore
And a bird and a bust and a door
And a guy with depression
And a whole lot of questions
And the bird always says “Nevermore.”
Footprints in the Sand
There was a man who, at low tide
Would walk with the Lord by his side
Jesus said "Now look back;
You'll see one set of tracks.
That's when you got a piggy-back ride."
Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening
There once was a horse-riding chap
Who took a trip in a cold snap
He stopped in the snow
But he soon had to go:
He was miles away from a nap.
Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night
There was an old father of Dylan
Who was seriously, mortally illin'
"I want," Dylan said
"You to bitch till you're dead.
"I'll be pissed if you kick it while chillin’."
I Wandered Lonely As a Cloud
There once was a poet named Will
Who tramped his way over a hill
And was speechless for hours
Over some stupid flowers
This was years before TV, but still.
@Clarence challenged me to rewrite a poem as a limerick for her upcoming birthday. There'll be more to come, with which I won't task your patience or the Ship's bandwidth, but here is what came off the top of my head. So let your limerickishness loose on classic poetry!
There once was a Marvellous poet
Who wrote, of his love, “I must show it!”
But his world weren’t enough
Nor his time, and that stuff,
So he just bought a bottle of Moët.
Comments
A poet who boarded a train
Through areas vacant and plain,
When the noises of marriage
Which came to his carriage,
Gave perceptions suggestive of rain.
As I in my own carriage sped
I suddenly found I was dead
I drove through the town
With a new friend I'd found
And eternity just up ahead.
Heredity demands a good curse.
Generation makes everything worse.
So leave your doomed home.
Do not breed, Do not roam.
And keep to discomforting verse.
An Irishman once was so poor,
He couldn’t afford 'tissu d’or'
So he came up with schemes
To replace it with dreams
“Just mind where you tread on the floor!”
The bits that my girlfriend has got
The lot of them isn't worth squat:
Her lips and her eyes,
Her odiferous sighs—
And yet I still think that she's hot.
A Scandinavian Prince
made non-quantum physicists wince
when he pondered, “I wot
that I can be and not”,
as played by Ralph Fiennes ever since.
O Captain! My Captain! You're dead!
A rebel has shot off your head!
So just this one time
My poem shall rhyme
To garner eulogical cred.
Oh God, we're feeling all blue
But sometimes happy too
So here are some songs
Most short but one long
To sing and send up unto You.
“Gawd, this ovine mob is so flawed,
that they lie down and pose
in the field with their foes,
while I herd them to the House of the Lord.
The Princess Cordelia had
A reluctance to tell her old dad
That she loved him. I fear
That poor old King Lear
Took it hard, and in time he went mad.
and the Ghost who proceeds (don’t go on!)
Was dead, now he ain’t,
the Communion of Saints,
and he’s coming to judge Kim Jong Un.
This bloodthirsty vixen got on
With merchants from hither and yon
Plus any old king
Who'd slip her some bling
So why not poor celibate John?
made her pacey, and quite hot.
half sick of shadows, she then forgot
her boating skills, and had them not.
And that's Shallot!
The elderly sailor averred
'cause he took a potshot at a bird,
His shipmates all died,
But I think he lied.
His story's just too, too absurd.
As faces appear by the train
They put in my wandering brain
(Though I do not know how)
Some buds on a bough
That appears to be stuck in the rain.
That's my wife, painted up on the wall,
The woman had no class at all.
She smiled far too much
For a dignified Duch-
ess, and that brought about her downfall.
King Claudius murdered his brother
And married the young Hamlet's mother.
This resulted in trouble
Reducing to rubble
The court, as they slaughtered each other.
The angel said solemnly "Look!
Your name is not here in my book!
But our discounted plan
Is to just love all Man
And that gets you right off the hook."
I once caught a trout with a berry
That turned to a girl we'll call Mary;
Whose magical form
Took leave from my dorm.
Since then I've been seeking that faerie.
The Age Of The Fish is now through.
Aquarius looms into view.
And now our new teacher
(a wretched old creature)
From Bethlehem springs into view.
Ah-hem...]
The Age Of The Fish is now through.
Aquarius looms into view.
And now our new teacher
(a beastly young creature)
From Bethlehem springs forth anew.
I'm sighing for wine that is red,
And at times I might rather be dead.
Though I hear from that bird
An encouraging word;
But am I just dreaming in bed?
When a boy falling down from the sky
And no-one asks how, what or why.
There's no stupefaction
Or artful reaction,
Just skill in concealing his cry.
I wish God would lean down and say,
"Your suffering sure makes my day!
I'd count it all joy --
My pain in his ploy --
But heaven is silent alway.
A ship and a star is enough
With the wind and the tide being tough
Then the gulls and the whales
And adventurous tales
Of seafaring happy and rough.
World and time, there's not enough,
for all that lovey-dovey stuff.
You're a lady, I'm a toff,
so go and get your knickers off!
God's Grandeur ( Hopkins)
With smudge of man, God's world is bent.
Is deep down feshness now all spent?
The Holy Spirit broods and springs,
With His warm breast,
and, ah, bright wings.
Amphibious-like labor 's a drag.
I wish I could just lollygag.
Though some hardly mind,
I'm not of their kind --
I want to be rich, known, and shag.
I believe we've got a whole thread in Circus actually dedicated to that specific genre of parody.
So we have, found it, Roses are Red. I'll copy & paste, and a nice host might delete the post above Stetson's.
However, we'll leave that post as it is, since we don't want to confuse folks!
jedijudy-Heaven Host, trying to be nice!
Two sisters in twilighted reaches
Went wild on berries and peaches.
Then met with some trolls
Who were randy old souls
Which led to some ethical breaches.
A stranger to town he did come,
Its residents hoped him to con.
To the stream he did go,
and a stone he did throw.
He had been there before, but kept mum!
I had to learn the original in Year 7 for English
A cool, cloudy fall day's a fave.
Each aspect is something we crave.
Girl Sorrow and I
Could never be shy --
We'll love them from now 'til the grave.
Ugly sisters were truly appalled.
When they tried the glass slipper,
Their bunions throbbed quicker
And they felt about six inches tall.
Some questions are asked by a ghost,
And the answer is "happy" for most.
But as for your love,
Who you mourn from above,
It's best if I don't seem to boast.
Priceless!
Folk though it was pie in the sky
But for once in her youth
She was telling the truth
And her habit now caused her to die.
'What, still alive at twenty two,
A brave upstanding lad like you?
If your throat's two tough to slit,
Well cut your your girl's
And swing for it'.
Earth’s surly bonds I’ve slipped,
To soar and dance on mirthful wings.
Tumbling delirious, my mind has flipped;
What elevated thoughts high flying brings!
I wonder how often it's read
By regretful romantics in bed.
An assemblage of quotes,
And some difficult notes,
What was it the weather had said?
Sam I Am had only one wish
Me to eat his vile-looking dish
He nagged and he nagged
I thought I would gag
But green eggs and ham are really delish.
Sandy legs and sneering face,
The rest all vanished,
Without trace.
Wreck and decay: the gift age brings,
To a trumped-up 'King of Kings'.
And as for Ozymandias,
Who is there now to kiss your arse?
I'll see myself out ....
Stopped a wedding guest, got in his way.
Shot an albatross white, in the dead of the night,
Lost his soul, and with drought had to pay.
Speaking as "Stetson", that's pretty damned good.
By the way, did you know HP Lovecraft did a parody of The Waste Land? Doesn't contain much direct imitation, just the general idea.
I do what I want, as do you.
Our shared expectations are few.
You're you and I'm me
If we meet, golly gee!
But if not, this discussion is through.
There is an unstoppable gale;
There is a lamentable tale.
Two thousand years on
Trees and people have gone;
But the wind and the woes never fail.