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Limericks - Part 4 (Oh yes!)

Life in general: You know you wanted more....

From Laurie Niles
Posted September 10, 2007 at 05:44 AM

Some like their lim'ricks with piety,
Formed with rev'rence and sobriety,
It's sinful to waste,
Those words of bad taste,
Best to use apt impropriety

** And if you're reading this, then by definition you don't fit into that category

Amen. ;)

I have since replaced that darned wire
But the new one is drawing my ire
It’s shrill, and it’s loud
It makes my eyes cloud
And my eardrums feel like they’re on fire

A string that’s aluminum-wound
Perhaps will make much better sound
But if it does not
Against it I’ll plot
And it too will wind up trash-bound

How did Leopold Auer
Get all of his pupils to flower?
He slipped some amphetamines
Into their blue jeans,
And that's why they played with such power.

If violin competitions make you freak,
You can cure it within a week.
Don't be in a hurry,
Just listen to Buri,
And try Alexander's Technique.

Oh, you can keep your vibrato,
And your perfect downbow spiccato.
Forget all that work.
I may be a jerk,
But I'd rather win at the Lotto.

A stone age violist with long chin
went out to his job in the cold dim,
but - what a disaster!
the glacier was faster,
rehearsal was done, when they found him.

Little riddle - which violin concerto am I?

Of course my dad tuned me in D,
six sisters are jealous of me:
two Cindies, one turkish,
two bastards, one posh dish.
Your tryst starts with "Column, right wheel!"

"see-sawing duet in the wind"

I really was going to blow
But this thing is what I saw
A string that does flow
With a bow that's not all
The flute is still ready to go

A famous musician was hustling,
While Washington Station was bustling,
What did he get-o?
Just One Cornetto,
As the sole proceeds of his Busking!

(Was that one?)

While driving on the road at my leisure
A violist and conductor did measure
The road's distance to cross
Thought I "run down the boss!"
Because one should put business before pleasure:-)

A number here voice their frustration,
At lack of public admiration,
Regrading Classics,
Our view Jurassic,
Is blocking Democratisation

Long live elitist pretense!
We guardians of good taste and sense!
The alternative, maybe,
's just a bit demo-crazy.
...and to flame me you now may commence.

;-)

;)

We played a piece by Beethoven
Who knew why a volist was chosen
To play the melody
Who could do it, surely not she!
At least the beauty was not broken.

Now Russian musicians won't play -
They've gone off to have sex for the day.
But Maxim and Yuri
Are stamping in fury,
'Cos it doesn't apply if you're gay ...

This stuff is hard! Please excuse me....

If you need to wear something strapless,
You're entering territ'ry hapless,
Things could get obscene
(You know what I mean)
Though not a problem if you're bapless*

*bap: noun Brit. a soft, round, flattish bread roll.

A groupie asked Heifetz to show
the trick of his stáccato bow.
His charme was airtight,
with utter despite
and faintly he hummed: "I dunno...".

A groupie once asked Kreisler's Fritz
for the roots of his sensual wits,
a kiss on her hand,
makes her understand,
"11 pm in the Ritz?"

But while Jascha's critics are now in fashion,
Even their hostile, vitriolic trashin'
Can't alter the fact
That he's a class act,
With excellence, beauty, and passion.

Ernest Chausson wrote his Poeme
Cause he said, "What I want is to show'em
That the human voice sucks.
There just aren't enough bucks
For me to write Tosca or Boheme."

That rascal, Giuseppe Tartini,
Made a pact with the Devil (The meanie!!!)
To give fiddlers bursitis
From Devil's Trill-itis,
In return for a supersized weenie.

*Nowhere else on the map
would I have heard the word "bap."

That's true - 'tis a terrible blight
That, through homo-erotic delight,
One can never accrue
A small Sammy or Sue;
At least, not if you're doing it right.

Another amusing one. :) I must concede, I think you're better at this than I am, by far.

At first improvement in condition,
I've planned a minor expedition,
Local library,
To check out Finzi,
Let's see if it comes to fruition

I've just realised what 'banged up' means for Australians and Americans. Mock me now. It just means imprisoned here.

* And it's cheaper than LSD :))

*"Banged up" is probably Aussie.

(I'm a fan, but sometimes he is a wally)

For references wierd and hermetic,
Best not use hallucenogenics,
So Jim you don't need,
To take dope or speed,
But it helps if you're an eccentric

When lack of practice begins to bite,
I benefit from this great insight,
With help from caffeine,
Become a machine,
That can work in darkness or daylight

Though ‘wonder drug’ in common parlance,
To render my consumption harmless,
Just one of tea,
For every coffee,
Will keep the yin and yang in balance

(My profile name has changed so that a local namesake classical guitarist isn't associated with these crhymes.)

Can't even bring myself to finish it.

If looking on in trepidation,
It’s time for some quick preparation,
Threads 1,2 & 3,
Will fill you with glee,
Providing boundless inspiration

Ma-ry's F plan could be the real thing,
To stop the spreading of this dumpling,
Let's try this diet,
Bake it not fry it,
And avoid bustin' all our G Strings

Hey, look, loads of words rhyme with string, king, sing, fling, ring, ding, ling.....

Some people say, "Get off your bum,
Stand up when you play with your chum!"
But I'm impossibly clunky.
It's so hard, I'm a monkey!
I have no opposable thumb.

Good council is hard to discover;
Harder yet, to find a good lover.
So simply be glad
When one’s not that bad.
And tell them to give back the cover.

For weeks now the anticipation,
And developing expectation,
Has made me confess,
And often obsess,
On thoughts of my pending elation

The day comes: nothing will defeat me,
Only smiling faces can greet me,
The journey's a breeze,
And passes with ease,
Like Irish, Road Rises To Meet Me

Arrival. The concert hall's buzzing,
With friends old and new, shoulder rubbing,
House lights are dimmer,
Circulates simmer,
Of breathless rev'rance for what's coming

The first note sounds and we're ecstatic,
For it's a sign firm and emphatic,
In commanding voice,
That there's but one choice:
Surrender to sounds autocratic

Time stands still. We've been here forever,
Pond'ring this catalogue of treasures,
Crowds out of focus,
I only notice,
The artist and I here together

Returning home, there's reminiscing,
On recent good times that we're missing,
Back to our ritual,
Things so habitual,
But glancing backwards for pure blissing

It's sailing that we go
But down there in the bowl
Some spud from distant land
Some flying rubber band

Why is it that we stall?
Why isn't there a ball?
We waltz and waltz away...
Why's everyone so gay!?

If country clubs so nice
Had half the wondrous mice
We find in sugarland
The rats would have no end

Why is it that we stall?
Why isn't there a ball?
We waltz and waltz away...
Why's everyone so gay!?

The pool we had today
Not ice nor snow nor hail
It's down there past the drain
Sounds like Goliath's still in pain

Why is it that we stall?
Why isn't there a ball?
We waltz and waltz away...
Why's everyone so gay!?

The Acific Patlantic shun
The one that has no gun
It's STILL not having fun
Why is that everyone!?

Why is it that we stall?
Why isn't there a ball?
We waltz and waltz away...
Why's everyone so gay!?

They called her something stupid
I think it's because of her stare
Why was it that they think her plait
Is quality uncompare

She's heavy as set was big
But that's not how to swear
At her with e'vry vixen
Till she'll fall down the stair

Her eyes like two big orbits round
Went backwards into her head
She'd drool and then look up out of her bed
For something she'd not found

(nor pound)

Why is it this strange lady
Who everyone says is now dead
Still haunts my every window
And's call-led Queen Mab

And children they had feet
In Nijinsky's Vattsa's school
The book his sister wrote
From there there is a quote

And seagulls at the park
Teaching me to fly
Catching bread in the air
I love being pregnant again

She stood crooked, hair gnarled and wavy,
And began to school us on gravy.
She stepped right in,
And finished our din!
There was no need to thank the lady.

The door quickly closed behind her.
What was seen, neither was quite sure.
Did she feel at all selfish,
While eating whole shellfish?
And what now to do about dinner?

Where Brian Joubert?
Where's I bare? I'm bare right there?
Joubert?
There's I'm bare.
But where?
There.
I can't see.
Wanna see?
Yes I wanna see Brian Joubert.
Oh, but I told you. There I'm bare.
No I don't know. I wanna see.
I told you there I'm bare.
Where!?
Where I told you.
I don't see.
Well, you have to go there to see.
What!?
Okay I'll show you.
Oh
Nice
But what about Brian?
Who's Brian!?

No more with these cheap oils
They camper more than boil
Why is it that
The cat whose back
Won't slither when they ...

There was a violist named Maia
who spent Christmas playing Messiah.
She dozed off at midnight,
but woke to a bright light -
she'd snoozed while the church was on fi-ah!

Though you may hate about what he is talking,
It's a revolution that Ricci is stalking -
Keep your hand in one place,
And it acts like a brace;
Let your fingers do all the walking.

There was a young lady named Mimi.
"Rodolfo, I see's glad to see me.
But poem-boy lacks gumption
To deal with consumption,
So lately, I'd say, sucks to be me."

(from Jo)

I made my Strad from a del Gesu.
And while most concert halls refuse me,
I’m still very glad,
I moved the f holes a tad,
With permanent marker and car key.

What else is unique of my fiddle?
Oh the differences are vastly little!
The sound post is rock,
And I removed all the blocks.
The neck only wiggles a little.

I threw out all the fine tuners,
And wish I had done it sooner.
I now turn the pegs,
With my teeth and both legs,
But Pliers make adjustments much smoother.

So many are in awe of the sound,
That they often drop right to the ground!
Like a dry field of grain,
They fall at sustains,
And cry like a pack of wild hounds.

I lurked for a week
and then joined ever so meek
I can't believe I lived for so long
without the wisdom of ya'll

http://ebooks.adelaide.edu.au/d/dickens/charles/d54gi/

http://www.fullbooks.com/A-House-to-Let2.html

And could you turn us over
With no seperation
As if we're in the clover
With your anticipation
masnation indigterbation

And turn us around
where we would be bound
For further down the road
Jesus might come down

Music Giveaway

Mark O'Connor's method books -- released this week -- teach students using many styles of American music. Enter to win a set of the books this week, on Violinist.com. Photo: Deanna Rose

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