Boys and girls, it's time to put on your thinking caps. I'm smack dab in the middle of the poetry section of Literary Criticism, and gosh, words is purty all stringed tuhgether!
Due on Tuesday, 6 November, our assignment for class is to write two limericks. So that's your assignment, too. You need only write one, but feel free to submit as many as you'd like. Extra points will be awarded for those who use a Going 40 in a 20 Zone theme as the basis of their limerick. Feel free to post the fruits of your labors in the comments section. Deadline for posts is 2:20pm CST, Tuesday, November 6. The winner will be announced on the blog sometime Wednesday, and a fabulous prize will be announced as well (it will be mailable, so anyone can participate). Judges will include myself and Hamline colleagues with no relationship to this blog.
Remember, for great blog value, you can't beat Going 40 in a 20 Zone. Let the games begin!
NOTE: The contest is now concluded. Watch for a results post soon.
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28 comments:
Oh my God this is going to be hard.
My brain feels like nothing but lard.
I'll try to do well,
But I'm going to have some trouble with it because you're putting us through hell;
As a poet I'm kind of a 'tard.
Deb, if I could bestow upon you several bonus points for your rhyme scheme, I would. LMAO!
Can the limerick start with:
There once was a man from Nantucket...
There's been a whole lotta gooey luv flowing between the postings of our fair Blogger and his Eric with a C - ergo, the Hallmark-like sentiments which follow...
There once was a student named Scooter
Who blogged each day from his computer:
“Going 40’s just great -
Got a Rock for my mate.
He’s da bomb! Even co-eds aren’t cuter.”
Scooter took quickly to German
But Anthro--that's some DULL learnin'
Right now he's a nurse
To Eric, who's cursed
With feets both hurtin' and burnin'
On the dean’s list, Scott’s gonna be,
Unless sidetracked by gimped Eric V.
But the Monte fall play,
Is just one week away!
Hey, who says this ain’t about me?
You brainy types all study lit crit.
My own tastes are more like a nitwit.
I try to be cool,
I try not to drool.
Your schedule would give me a s*** fit.
'Twas a hard day and I'm feeling flustered.
I'll order a hot dog with mustard.
The Cookie Bar Magic -
Its loss would be tragic.
We'll meet you at Liberty Custard!
I'm kind of an over-achiever -
(I never watched "Leave It to Beaver.")
I *should* go to bed
But I've filled up my head -
These lim'ricks, they give me a fever.
ya TA da da TA da da spoon,
ta YA da da YA da da moon.
ya TA da da kiss -
ta YA da da bliss.
ta YA da da TA da da loon.
Dear Scott, for whom 40’s his age,
Began his own Zone-blogging craze.
With Muse, Boss, and Rock,
Cheer, Style, and the lot,
Value-added is the resulting web page.
There once was a man from Montana
Who blogged from his Uptown cabana.
His Anthro’s a chore -
Not to mention, a bore -
So he’s knitting his mom a ruana.
There once was a blogger named Scotty
Whose classmates were all rather naughty.
They think, “40’s sad,”
So the chix call him Dad,
But the boyz still all think he’s a hottie.
ms. p, you are truly the Mary Sidney of the limerick arts. well done!!! i'm honored to be posting in the same blog with you.
http://www.marysidney.com
Years ago he dropped out of Concordia.
Now, he said to himself,"Scott, there's more ta ya."
So he'll study piano,
for a couple of anno.
And then, we'll all cheer, "Deus Gloria."
Here, here.
I vote for Phil.
There once was a puppy named Viggo.
Who, like his dad, danced a good jig-o.
He’d jump up and prance,
Make Pops pee his pants,
while Daddy knit more malabrigo.
Our Scott has a skill for to shout:
Keen social observance, no doubt.
We’d all best be wise,
Avoid closing our eyes,
Or it’s us he’ll be blogging about.
There was a young poet from Phuket,
who thought that her life was O.K.
Here work was oft sapphic
and usually quite graphic,
"But I can't find a rhyme for Nantucket."
The once was a student named Rohr
Aged 30 years old (plus 10 more)
He had a strong penchant
For thoughts that were trenchant
His teachers found much to adore.
Our Blogger plays Claude Debussy
With skill that exceeds you and me.
His talent he hones
Into dulcet French tones
That could coax autumn leaves from their tree.
(And, no, not into tiny depressed suicidal death spirals of doom…)
Blog readers, I think you’ll agree
As we follow Scott’s journey with glee
To be a student is tiring
And though it’s inspiring
I’m glad that it’s him, and not me.
Oh, Eric M, that made e a) laugh, and b) nod violently in enthusiastic agreement.
A picture for you I will draw
Of why, Scott, you fill us with awe:
To return to college
We all must acknowledge
Requires a je ne sais quoi.
Setting sail into waters unknown
Our hero was feeling alone.
He broke through the fog
By starting a blog,
“Going 40 in a 20 Zone.”
The students at Hamline deserve
to wonder aghast at the nerve
of the studious soph
who's as old as the prof,
'Cause he's probably throwing the curve.
Anthropology's boring and sad.
LitCrit isn't going half bad.
And it isn't the German
that sets Scott to squirmin'.
It's the jammies in flannel of plaid.
When I am of elderly age
I will often come back to this page
For its readers are quick
With a joke or lim'rick
Any sorrow or ill to assuage.
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