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Young Writers Society


Event 6: Lovely Limericks of Poetry



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Wed Aug 10, 2016 7:31 am
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Dracula says...



The Silly Olympian Sprinter

There once was a sprinter named Potts.
Who never learnt how to tie knots.
He ran on the cue,
Tripped over his shoe,
And was beaten by even the mascots.
Last edited by Dracula on Wed Aug 10, 2016 10:33 am, edited 1 time in total.
I bought a cactus. A week later it died. I got depressed because I thought Damn, I am less nurturing than a desert.
-Demetri Martin





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Wed Aug 10, 2016 8:38 am
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krazkat says...



Sad limerick (meh) it's just very flowy so I'm using it sorry for u chicken lovers
Spoiler! :
There once was a chicken from Quebec
We decided to wring it's neck
It struggled and flailed
But the poor chicken failed
Now dead is the chicken from Quebec





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Wed Aug 10, 2016 9:58 am
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Rydia says...



Spoiler! :
Okay I switched it - now the syllable counts are correct!


That Famous 'net Troll

There was once a famed 'net troll of old
who rampaged on 'net sites uncontrolled.
One day he got snoopy,
and clicked on a beauty,
and the old troll-lol-lol was rick-rolled!
Writing Gooder

~Previously KittyKatSparklesExplosion15~

The light shines brightest in the darkest places.





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Wed Aug 10, 2016 10:16 am
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Mea says...



A Change

Once here on Young Writers Society,
in chat, chickens wanted variety.
They complained to Nate
and after debate
became funky orangutans silently.
We're all stories in the end.

I think of you as a fairy with a green dress and a flower crown and stuff.
-EternalRain

I think you, @Deanie and I are like the Three Book Nerd Musketeers of YWS.
-bluewaterlily





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Wed Aug 10, 2016 2:06 pm
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krazkat says...



Sad limerick (meh) it's just very flowy so I'm using it sorry for u chicken lovers
Spoiler! :
There once was a chicken from Quebec
We decided to wring it's neck
It struggled and flailed
But the poor chicken failed
Now dead is the chicken from Quebec





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Wed Aug 10, 2016 2:18 pm
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herbgirl says...



This limerick is about the time I met a blind man at the bookstore. Don't judge me.
Music Store Encounters
I talked to a blind man today,
We didn't have much to say.
I tried to show him my book,
Then realized he couldn't look,
So ashamed, I walked away.





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Wed Aug 10, 2016 2:54 pm
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Audy says...



[How I feel about limericks....



Image










Spoiler! :

I'll tell you what there once was not:
a forum full of limericks fraught
with our efforts,
for we are no experts
thus, why I hang out with you lot.]





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Wed Aug 10, 2016 4:19 pm
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erilea says...



You're really pushing my writer skills to the limit. :D

Spoiler! :
Once, as Santa was on the net,
He saw something that he'd never met.
He exclaimed in surprise,
"July Christmas! I despise
the fact that the date isn't correct!"


Hope you liked that one.
Was *wisegirl22*Artemis28*Lupa22*


focus on... enjoying happy moments





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Wed Aug 10, 2016 6:20 pm
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GusG says...



A small boy whose name is not Nick,
Is rather uncommonly thick.
I know this is true,
For he's taken since two,
To com-plete one lone* limerick.

Spoiler! :
* trite, contrived, clumsy, banal, bland, boring, obvious, overdone, unintelligent, unoriginal and uninspired
The pen is mightier than the intercontinental ballistic missile.





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Wed Aug 10, 2016 6:43 pm
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Dutiful says...



There was once a girl named Duti,
Who couldn't visit YWS as much lately.
Try as she might ,
She couldn't fix her Wi-Fi,
Her browser was doomed to eternity.
“And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.”
― Sylvia Plath





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Wed Aug 10, 2016 6:54 pm
TheSilverFox says...



A Brief Commentary on Existence

I had a beautiful, elegant friend
Whom I never thought I could rend.
Then I found bread earned
was something I yearned,
and my sourdough friend met her end.
S'io credesse che mia risposta fosse
a persona che mai tornasse al mondo,
questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.
Ma per ciò che giammai di questo fondo
non tornò vivo alcun, s'i' odo il vero,
senza tema d'infamia ti rispondo.

Inferno, Canto 27, l 61-66.





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Wed Aug 10, 2016 7:11 pm
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JustJasper says...



I did not think I could write
but I stayed up late in the night.
With a pencil in hand,
and a lamp on the stand,
now writing is such a delight.
Why do we capital-N Nerds love Mars so much?
Because it's beautiful, it's tough, it's buried in our mythic, childhood memories.
It's covered with human triumphs but also with sad stories of failure.

-Greg Bear





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Wed Aug 10, 2016 10:40 pm
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soundofmind says...



I fear that it seems I might be late.
I'm really wishing I would've ate.
Perhaps I should eat?
I'm sure that'd be sweet.
But I'd rather write this poem, and wait.
Pants are an illusion. And so is death.






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Wed Aug 10, 2016 11:43 pm
spectator says...



on the sidewalk lay two pairs of eyes,
which gaze at each-other, not the skies
the clouds hate ignoring,
and faces get boring,
but, cement always sticks to goodbyes
went for a jog





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Wed Aug 10, 2016 11:49 pm
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alliyah says...



There was once a young girl called Betsy,
Her mom scolded the girl saying she was messy.
The girl cried and said,
“It isn’t my fault I’m all red -
I should have been given cake rather than spaghetti!”
you should know i am a time traveler &
there is no season as achingly temporary as now
but i have promised to return








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