The Amazing and Versatile Limerick

I consider myself reasonably well-read. My fictional interests extend from Shakespeare to Kesselring and from Dickens to Irving and include the Brontës, Hardy, Mann, Hesse, and hundreds more. My nonfiction reading is equally eclectic if far less extensive, and I’m an avid consumer of The New Yorker and the Sunday Times.

When it comes to poetry, however, my tastes are limited. There’s no particular reason that I know of, but it’s simply not a place I go to very often. There are perhaps six or so poems that move me, but that’s about it. Writing poetry is totally not among my skills. My middle son writes beautiful, elegant, powerful poetry and is amazing with the sonnet, but not me. I’m limited to a single form…the humble limerick.

I’m not in the least embarrassed by this. Far from it. Many great poets have tried their hand at this simple form and excelled. For instance, here’s a famous limerick from the mind and pen of Ogden Nash.

There was an old man of Calcutta
Who coated his tonsils with butta,
Thus concerting his snore
From a thunderous roar
To a soft, oleaginous mutta.

But what is a limerick? A limerick is a stanza of five lines with the rhyme scheme of AABBA. The A lines contain three feet of three syllables (usually anapest or ta-ta-TUM) and the B line two feet of three syllables (also anapest). The rhythm can also be amphibrachic (ta-TUM-ta).

The origin of the limerick as a poetic form is as nebulous as its name. It’s quintessentially a British form, officially defined for the first time around 1898. Although the first printed examples date from around 1880, it’s been around a lot longer. Here’s an early example:

There was a young rustic named Mallory,
who drew but a very small salary.
When he went to the show,
his purse made him go
to a seat in the uppermost gallery.

What is it that attracts me to the limerick? I think it’s the form’s economical versatility. The meter has a lilt that makes it upbeat and suitable for almost any light-hearted use. But within that realm, the sky’s the limit. Many of the most celebrated limericks are of a bawdy nature. For instance:

There was once a young fräulein from Kyritz
Who was famous for doing the splits.
So conspicuously spread
She could give herself head
Simultaneously rubbing her tits.

I’m shameless, right? That’s one of the cleaner ones too. Personally, I’ve found the limerick useful for many purposes. For instance, I’ve written them to paint short character sketches for friends:

My girlfriend whose name is Clarissa
Is known as an excellent kissa
When she opens her maw
To send you a Muahhh
Stand still so she doesn’t miss ya!

I’ve written limericks as pick-me-ups for friends going through hard times:

There was once a young woman named Lilly
Who’s a charming and glamorous filly
When called on by Erica
To talk esoterica
Lil responded, “You’re just being silly!”

I’ve penned political commentary:

When that fascist old president Donald
In November was finally toppled.
The world did rejoice
The electorate’s choice,
But alas, we’ll still get McConnelled.

Sometimes, they simply pop into my head unannounced:

One day an old woman named Erica
Penned a Lim’rick in typeface poetica.
But she tangled her strings
Changed her text to Windings
And her elegant rhyme to hysterica.

Alas, it doesn’t get much better than this. But then, it doesn’t really need to. I think this limerick sums it up best:

Seeing Erica’s limerick wit
You are likely afraid she won’t quit.
‘Cause they’re fan posts to friends
She will not make amends
And in fact, she still plans to do more of it.

There you are my friends. I invite you in and tempt you to answer me in kind. Grab a pen, a scrap of paper, and a cup of coffee and do your worst!!