Quizzical Limericks about Inquiry
Cosmic Limericks about Indian Gods
After writing a thousand limericks about everything from Black Holes to the Bhagavad Gita, I have to reflect on my own relationship with the limerick. It’s led me out of caves and into mazes, through the pages of Schopenhauer and back to the Tree of Life.
We each have our own ways and means of coping with the human condition. Mine is to write limericks. Before I started writing limericks, I could feel myself searching and scrambling, but rarely finding. Limericks have brought my quest into focus, shining a light where there had been only darkness.
At the same time, I am all too well aware of the risk of growing overly reliant on any single solution. Sometimes I wake up and can’t even get out of bed before reaching for my first limerick. Like a high functioning alcoholic, I keep scraps of paper in all sorts of corners of the house, hiding the limericks from my family. When no one is watching, I scribble rhymed couplets and squirrel them away into sock drawers and shirt pockets.
So consider this set of limericks about me and my limericks as a kind of confession. And remember to take it all with a grain of salt.
*NOTE: Some people pronounce “limerick” with three syllables. But where I come from, we say it with only two. The purist might write this as “lim’rick”, but I use the proper spelling. It’s a minor detail, but when it comes to writing in true meter, the details make all the difference.
Self Reference
Every so often I utter some platitude
Preaching on patience, acceptance and gratitude
I might miss the mark
As I aim in the dark
But nobody’s perfect so lend me some latitude
Out of the Blue and Into the Black
Lost in a thought with my neck slightly bent
Just look at the time — who knows where it went?
The gift of the verse
Feels more like a curse
And of no use at all when it’s time to pay rent
The Limericist’s Dilemma
My writing is deep and satirical
Ironic and more or less lyrical
Is life a true wonder
Disguised as a blunder?
Or merely a joke in the shape of a miracle
Prophet Sharing
I know a method for healing Creation
A cure for the illness afflicting the nation
If hate is the cancer
Then I have the answer
By way of the limerick I offer salvation
Objection Overruled
If you don’t like my limericks then go ‘head and sue me
That you prefer Whitman will not make me gloomy
They’re a challenge to follow
For those who are shallow
Perhaps in your mind there’s just not enough Rumi
Give Freely
Every cult leader has something to offer
A passion to share or a message to proffer
But unlike my limericks
They’re mostly just gimmicks
So send me a check and let’s fill up my coffer
The Support Group
I’m new to the group, it’s my very first session
My friends call me Fred and I have a confession
I squander my time
As I ponder and rhyme
And I’m desperate to cure this unhealthy obsession
Fare Thee Well
I’m finished with limericks I’ve written my last
I’m finally consigning this form to the past
It’s over and done
But we had some good fun
And that one about Nietzsche shall not be surpassed
Second Thoughts
Sweet lady Limerick, I swore I’d resign her
But watch as I ponder the Cosmic Designer
My only technique
When it’s answers I seek
Is to sit down and scribble another five liner
Further Reading
If you liked these limericks about me and my limericks, please let me know in the comments section below. You might also enjoy some of these popular articles.
