h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

The limerick is always a safe bet
When there is no time for a son-net
You can write a quick verse
And it's fine if you curse
Even better if giggles you get

Well, nice to see Ekki again!
He's been round here since goodness knows when!
At the start of this fun
(Have a look at page 1)
He was in, writing post number ten!

Welcome back Ekki it's been
Good to see that you're back again
You started the fun
And still we're not done
Glad you're jumping back into the din

There was a smart fellow named Cook
Who sailed 'round the world with a book.
In the book he kept notes
On all sorts of big boats
So he'd know how his big boats should look.

A clever old codger once noted
In a pad he religiously toted
Who went and who came
Their height, weight and name
And precisely how each of them voted

A lady named Coco took notes
On how women wore skirts and coats
From these notes she'd divine
Her own clothing line;
She is famous, but she never gloats.

A lass liked to sun in the nude
To the delight of the those tending toward lewd
Some thought her rude
Still others, quite crude
And the boys came completely unglued

This post is nineteen forty-eight,
To me a significant date:
I took my first breath
Panting on to my death;
Then was early, now's middle, soon late.

For me it was nineteen and fifty two,
So older I am than the most of you?
I'm the cusp of the Boomers,
There have been some rumours,
That we lot had more fun than all of you.

Consider nineteen thirty five
Too old then, to still be alive?
You juvenile chappies
Not long out of nappies
Need lessons on how to survive !

For me it was 1963
A babe I am to you three
I've had no mid life crisis
Plenty of death defying dices
And yet I'm just plain old me!!!

In the year I emerged from the womb
The economy was in a boom
But the best was my fate
To share my birth date
With not one cousin, but two


(IRL, I share my birthdate with my 70 year old cousin and his nephew)

These poets, some aged, some not
Are a highly unusual lot
Proving to me
Quite conclusively
A fact which I've somehow forgot

The June days are finally here
The garden is now in full gear
The irises are swooning
And I've just started pruning
The grape vine, which I do every year.

Twas the year of the drought when I popped,
And into this thing called life dropped,
nineteen seven six,
I got my first fix,
of fresh air when my womb life was stopped.

Limericks are poetry, yes
No more than sonnets, no less
Best written with humor
An indiscreet rumor
Or a lass in some state of undress

A lass who was getting undressed
Remarked to her maid, "I prtoest,
"That society's norms
"Ignore female forms,
"So get this tight thing off my chest!"

Trouble was brewing in Dorset
When a maid tried to undo a corset,
The buttons all popped
And her bossom then dropped
"I told you should should not have forced it!"

Said the lass in a state of vulgarity
"I place the blame on my society!
"I feel restrain,
"But shan't complain,
"For I do enjoy perks monitarily."

(sorry the last one doesn't scan that well)

I feel some restraint? But make no complaint?

Try harder, Chris! You can do it!

The poetry reading's tonight
At last months' show I did alright
In the public library
My first time was scary
But the audience clapped with delight

From Coleridge to the Light Brigade
And originals I alone made
Quoted Benny Hill
I went on until
"Goodnight", everybody, I bade

This night will be different, I fear
The gems that I know, they did hear
What's left is all rot
It's all that I've got
Maybe I should sit mute in the rear

I know me all together too well
With second-rate poems to sell
In public I'll speak
Exposing this freak
To the meaning of show business hell

Lord help me there's someone I know!
Here at this poetry show
To watch this old fool
Lose all his cool
Abandon ship! May Day! Let's Go!

Wait! Panick becomes not, the bard
Press on, no matter how hard
I'll not be denied
To heck with my pride
The challenge is it's own reward

When typing out poetry sublime
In perfect meter, style, and time
I hit the wrong key
The words all left me
And straight up the walls I did climb

I'd type it again if I could
Beautiful art like that should
Be seen by mankind
Read aloud to the blind
And explained so it's full understood

I can't recollect what I said
The inspiration's not fading, it's dead
A masterpiece lost
Not even a ghost
Remains in this poor authors' head