There once was a poor leprechaun,
who wanted to go ‘cross the pond.
He rode the next rainbow
to grab hold of some gold—
and found he had just crossed the pond.
—The Limerichaun

There once was a man named Sam
who ate nothing but peas and ham.
When he didn’t have any
he stole more than a penny
and now he eats well on the lam.
—S. in PG

We watch basketball every March
salivating until we are parched.
We call it “March madness,”
but it is just sadness
to end on a word like “larch.”
—S. in PG again

Valentine’s day is near,
it’s time to tell those who are dear
just how much we love them
there’s nothing above them
as shown by this cheap souvenir

The Super Bowl is a great game
though sometimes it can be quite lame
turn into a rout
a gigantic blowout
making everyone ask why they came

Groundhog Day tells us if winter
will end sooner or later
As decided by the sun
casting a wan
shadow over some little critter

—Foolish Times reader Bill S., who has some rhyming problems

[Editor’s note: Kiri Kiri the Limerick Deary absolutely swears that these are her last baseball limericks until at least April (or maybe March...)]

Baseball season has reached its sad end,

and I’d vowed no more limericks to send—

But the Blue blew their chance

for a World Series dance,

and were doomed from the start, I contend.

Village Sky must be terribly flustered

that her Dodgers could not cut the mustard.

Her team dashed her hope

I don’t know how she’ll cope

When the 2010 Giants dust her.

SF Giants have blown chances, too,

when they lost that last game in ’02.

But they’re well on the mend

and I gladly commend

all the Giants fans dogging the Blue.

Let’s go, Giants! We will OWN 2010!

Thanks for tolerating my baseball zeal through the season—and thanks to Gene Gene, Village Sky, and Birdman. (OK, well, maybe not quite as much thanks to Village Sky—but despite her poor choice of team, she IS, I must say, a TRUE FAN.)

Editor’s note: The Limerick Wars of 2009 continue to wind down, along with the baseball season. Kiri Kiri the Limerick Deary submits the following in response to last month’s submissions, saying, “OK, I must submit one last baseball-related limerick to Gene Gene The Limerick Machine, Birdman, and Village Sky”:

I have to admit I felt slighted

when last month Limerick Deary wasn’t sighted

Though I wrote not last month

being down in the dumps

Cuz the Giants’ good efforts were blighted.

However there’s always next year—

And the Dodgers we needn’t to fear

They’ll not win the Series

and my spirits won’t weary

For my Giants I always will cheer.

(And now for my feeble attempt at Haiku… it’s a 5-7-5 syllabic, right??):

No matter who wins

when the ball sails toward the Cove

it’s a flight of grace.

From Mutual Admiration for Baseball Member,

Kiri Kiri the Limerick Deary

Editor’s note: As the Limerick Wars of 2009 draw to a close, mainly because the Giants appear to be out of the pennant race, this month’s limerick offerings feature a dialogue of sorts between Gene, Gene, The Limerick Machine and Birdman.

To the Birdman

I’m posing this question to you

because your logic is straight on and true

I send it to you Birdman

Because you are a great wordman

Is a Limerick just an Irish Haiku?

—Gene, Gene, The Limerick Machine

Birdman responds with a haiku and a limerick:

It’s universal

Haiku for those as steady

and gifted as you.

To the Machine

A special fine wordman is Gene

A virtual limerick machine.

He’ll bring in some sass

Then add some class,

Thus his poems are truly Supreme.

—Birdman

And Gene observes:

Being a publisher is tough

And the payoff is not nearly enough

but the stuff I’ve been sending

and the Birdman has been rending

Is really damn good stuff

—Gene, Gene, The Limerick Machine

Editor’s Note: The limerick wars between Foolish Times fan Kiri and Gene, Gene, the Limerick Machine continue. Last month we printed Kiri’s response to Gene’s anti-Barry Zito limerick; this month Gene responds. For those who don’t know, Barry Zito is a pitcher for the San Francisco Giants. Well, Kiri thinks so, but Gene thinks otherwise. Anyway, to see the previous limericks, check out the website.

Dear Kiri,

You must know that was written last year
When we were all shedding a tear
But you must surely admit
He’s not worth a s**t
for 19 million a year

Yes, he won a Cy Young
but then he was very young
He’s not the great pitcher of lore
He’s just pitcher number 4
and his signing was really just bung

Lincecum, Cain, and Randy
have made our staff just dandy
Johnson took off the heat
So Barry can compete
And not be just Sabean’s eye candy

Go Giants!

-Gene, Gene, the Limerick Machine

Editor’s Note: Apparently a Foolish Times reader named Kiri took exception to a limerick by Gene, Gene, the Limerick Machine, printed in last month’s issue. We printed it as one of our “best of” limericks (it’s from a few years back), but Kiri thinks otherwise. We’re printing it again below, with Kiri’s response. Let the Limerick Wars begin!

There once was a pitcher named Zito
The Giants thought he was neato
They paid out big bucks
For an arm that just sucks
And now their season’s finito
-Gene Gene the Limerick Machine

Dear Gene,

Your limerick dissed a great pitcher,
‘cuz Zito is no belly itcher
Sure, his fast ball is slow
but I’d like you to know
It could still knock your ass in a ditch, sir.

My intent, Gene, is not disrespect
but there are factors you seem to neglect
Zito won a Cy Young
and that puts him among
Elite players we fans can’t reject.

I admit Zito’s had two bad years,
but he’s making good now, it appears
Giants sit second-place
in the NL West race
and soon Dodger Blue will shed tears.
-Kiri

Inauguration

We’ve voted ourselves a new Prez
and mostly we like what he sez
but what can he do
with a human zoo
of people who think in low-res?

The zoo is, of course, our Congress
unlikely to lose its fondness
for pork over beef
and the firm belief
that others created the mess

“Others,” of course, are all those
in the party which each must oppose
lest the rascals win
raid the money bin
and water their foul-smelling rose

But perhaps this time each will see
the culprit’s not “they,” but is “thee”
thy one-sided ways
instead of forays
onto paths where “they” become “we”

We do know that Spring, Winter, Fall
(and Summer, of course) never stall
for millions of years
they’ve synchronized gears
so that each has its part in the All

So maybe a seasonal way
can replace political fray
and then truly build
a four-season guild
that crafts good tomorrows each day
—Sir Henry de Tunahuna

When the gardener wakes to the dawn
He thinks not of the night that is gone
But of weeding today
In the usual way
And the joy of mowing a lawn
-Sir Henry de Tunahuna
Read the rest of this article »

Fat Mary ( to Larry), “Why do we tarry?
“Our love is so firm, we must marry!”
Said Larry (to Mary)
“That’s really scary
for you, ‘cross the threshold, to carry!”
-Sir Henry de TunahunaAnd three by David Rasch: Read the rest of this article »

A young man thought himself quite amusing
But his opinion was of his own choosing.
He was really a prude
Who never talked lewd,
And eventually took to the boozing.
-Birdman Read the rest of this article »

There once was a pitcher named Zito
The giants thought he was neato
They paid out big bucks
For an arm that just sucks
And now their season’s finito Read the rest of this article »

Brought to you by people with really strange names (evidently their parents didn’t love them very much).

There once was a lonely gyrene
Who whiffed some fatal phosgene.
He’d run out of luck
He’d forgotten to duck,
It is what happens when people get mean.
—Birdman

There is a fine man name of Gene
Who is a virtual limerick machine.
He praises musicians
And pillories politicians,
With his rhymes surprising clean.
—Birdman

Lest you think that man is a clown
Please note he has a big frown
Tho’ his nose is Big Red
His smile is dead
And his mouth is, alas, curling down
—Sir Henry de Tunahuna

While penning a new form of schtick
The bard became pale and got sick
The upchuck he threw
From yesterday’s stew
Spilled into this little limerick
—Sir Henry de Tunahuna

Brought to you by people with really strange names (evidently their parents didn’t love them very much).

There was a musician named Marotta
If you never heard him play you oughta
Plays music with ease
On the box that you squeeze
And he learned it all from his faddah
— Gene, Gene, the Limerick Machine Read the rest of this article »

‘Tis now one of those election years,
The ones that drive us to tears.
The founders would say
Must they do it this way
With the shouting, the lies, and the smears?
— Gene, Gene, the Limerick Machine Read the rest of this article »

Let us pity the plight of fool Thomas
who forgot to put on pajamas.
He sleepwalked at night,
Gave the neighbors a fright,
And now is in jail in Clackamas. Read the rest of this article »