Famous Poems Rewritten as Limericks

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naamahdarling:

thepoetrycollection:

The Raven

There once was a girl named Lenore
And a bird and a bust and a door
And a guy with depression
And a whole lot of questions
And the bird always says “Nevermore.”

Footprints in the Sand

There was a man who, at low tide
Would walk with the Lord by his side
Jesus said “Now look back;
You’ll see one set of tracks.
That’s when you got a piggy-back ride.”

Response to ‘This Is Just To Say’

This note on the fridge is to say
That those ripe plums that you put away
Well, I ate them last night
They tasted all right
Plus I slept with your sister. M’kay?

Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening

There once was a horse-riding chap
Who took a trip in a cold snap
He stopped in the snow
But he soon had to go:
He was miles away from a nap.

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

There was an old father of Dylan
Who was seriously, mortally illin’
“I want,” Dylan said
“You to bitch till you’re dead.
“I’ll be pissed if you kick it while chillin’.”

I Wandered Lonely As a Cloud

There once was a poet named Will
Who tramped his way over a hill
And was speechless for hours
Over some stupid flowers
This was years before TV, but still.

THE ONE FOR DO NOT GO GENTLE

IM CRYING

A chap from a faraway land
Said two big stone legs (topless) stand
An inscription fine
Reads “this shit’s all mine”
But all there’s to see is the sand.

OMFG,

The Second Coming

The falcon flies wider in scorn
All things fall apart, or are torn
And now, what rough beast
Will arise in the East
And slouch Bethlehemward to be born?

Edgar Allen Poe, “The Raven”:

Enthroned on the bust by the door,
The raven exclaims “Nevermore!”
It’s rather annoying,
For I was enjoying
My mourning for dear lost Lenore.

Edgar Allen Poe, “The Bells”:

Bells are quite noisy, it’s true,
And each has a quite distinct hue,
From silver and gold
Different stories are told,
Foretelling both glory and rue.

W. H. Auden, “Funeral Blues”:

Shut off the clocks and the phone,
And let no dog bark with his bone:
Let the planes overhead
Only say “he is dead”…
Now I’m sorry, there’s nobody home.

T. S. Eliot, “The Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock”:

A man can walk down on the beach
Roll his pants up and munch on a peach;
He isn’t deluded
And won’t be included
By mermaids that sing each to each.

T.S. Eliot, “The Wasteland”:

You called me the hyacinth girl
When you gave sweet Shakespeare a whirl;
The city’s unreal,
And the dead men don’t feel,
So let’s let the storm warnings twirl.

Lewis Carroll, “The Jabberwock”:

‘Twas mimsy out there by the wabe
And all of the momewraths out grabe.
The Jabberwock’s dead
(Some kid took off its head,
And his father said “You’re my best babe!”).

Beowulf:

Terribly troubled, the Thane
Demanded defense from a Dane
For fierce in the fen
Mighty monsters maimed men
Great Grendal gave plenty of pain.

William Butler Yeats, “Stolen Child”:

Come on, human kid, and let’s go,
There’s so much to see and to show.
Run off with the fae,
Hurry fast, skip away,
And you’ll never a mortal life know!

John Keats, ‘La Belle Dame Sans Merci":

The sedge is all dry; spring has sped,
And the birds that once sang have all fled.
The merciless dame
Goes on making her claim
To young hunks who keep winding up dead.

Lord Tennyson, “The Princess”:

The echoes keep fading away
With the splendor that ebbs with the day,
But the castle is grand
In this bright fairyland,
And there’s not that much else I can say.

Christina Rossetti, “Goblin Market”:

At goblin men we mustn’t stare,
And we shouldn’t go to their Fair.
Their fruit may seem tasty,
But we can’t be hasty,
And don’t let them play with your hair!

Oh my god, the Beowulf one.  Oh.

holy shit, the merciless dame is perfect

I love the jabberwock!

Shakespeare, Sonnet 18


Have I called you a summer’s day yet?

Like the sun, and ur makin me sweat

Even Death is dismayed

Cuz you castin’ no shade

An I wrote this so peeps won’t forget

I’m in awe.

The Tygre
William Blake

A tygre with dread symmetry
did burn so brilliantly 
that I asked with a fright
in the forest of night,
“Did God make the lamb and thee?”

Believe Me, if All Those Endearing Young Charms
Thomas Moore

My love whom I gaze on today,
if all your looks faded away
I would love you still more
than ever before
and in love with you always I’d stay.

The Lady of Shalott
Alfred, Lord Tennyson

A tender young lass from Shalott,
was forbidden to spy Camelot.
But within her mirror,
Lancelot did appear,
now the lass from Shalott is not.

Catullus 16
Catullus

To the old queens, Aurelius and Furius:
your criticism leaves me quite curious.
Do you think I am weak
because soft words I speak?
‘cause I’ll fuck both your faces, I’m serious.

This just keeps getting better and better.

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