Violin Limericks (Part 2)

October 31, 2005 at 04:10 PM · Part 1 was a festival of rhyme and mirth

With a touch of the serious thrown in for girth.

Has our creativity combined

Been drained from our mind?

We'll find out what's left, and what it's worth.

Replies (99)

October 31, 2005 at 09:35 PM · My obsessed mind keeps cranking them out.

The limericks pour as from a spout.

But the impact, in the main,

Is to dull the brain.

It's a limerick rout without doubt.

October 31, 2005 at 09:49 PM · Another limerick thread...Oh no! HELP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

November 1, 2005 at 04:43 PM · Yes, ole Sander is certainly quick,

And, I have to concede, pretty slick -

Spills out words on the pages

Ere his mind he engages,

With the aid of that there ryhyming dic.

But don't let that put you off - keep 'em coming ;-)

November 3, 2005 at 10:28 AM · Sander has plain quit pounding it out

he's dried up now without a doubt

a harmless addiction

became an affliction?

he once held it highly, but now he's in doubt

he gleefully took his rhyming dic from its shelf

yielding torrents of limericks for us and himself

but did he revel

in the work of the devil

and does a word rhyme with itself?

November 4, 2005 at 12:32 AM · There once was a teacher named Buri

who up and left in a hurry

I see that he's back

his spelling's still whack

so, no need to worry

For the next few days I'll hide like a weasel

ferried away by an engine of diesel

someone track these

watch my back please

Like him, I'll return to the easel

November 4, 2005 at 07:20 PM · Vivaldi, Corelli, Torelli, Viotti.

My ability to know who's who is spotty.

A feast of Baroque

Is no joke.

It's as jumbled as a bowl of spighotti.

The limerick's rhythmic perfection

Can become a kind of infection.

As many have indicated,

Strict form is vindicated.

Please note the following section:

3 | 1 2 3 | 1 2 3 | 1

3 | 1 2 3 | 1 2 3 | 1

3 | 1 2 3 | 1

3 | 1 2 3 | 1

3 | 1 2 3 | 1 2 3 | 1

Though this pattern can make you scream,

Note that many a classical theme,

From Mozart to Brahms,

From concertos to psalms,

Is based on this very same scheme.

November 5, 2005 at 02:26 AM · Put your left shoes on before your right shoes

eat lots of cornbread cause its good for yous

you can drive your car

to the car spa

or give a russian fiddle chick a shot of da blues

November 7, 2005 at 03:49 PM · The Heifetz question, it appears,

Has gone on for a hundred years.

Was he a godly oddity?

Or an ordinary commodity

(Like you'd find at Macy's or Sears)?

December 13, 2005 at 07:23 AM · Heifetz was a talent astounding,

Though the rest of his life - it lacked rounding,

He practiced his scales,

Till from all the females,

there were claps and applause quite resounding.

December 13, 2005 at 07:50 AM · Sander, look what you've done with your limericks!

At first I just read them for kicks,

But they swam in my brain,

And soon were the main

attraction - in short, I'm an addict.

See, I should really be doing my math,

Or making my Bach take a bath,

(intonation, I mean,

is what needs to be clean,)

Instead I subject me to the wrath,

Of Preucil. When he hears my thirds,

He'll say, "Where's your head? With the birds?"

I'll respond, "Mr. Preucil,

My thirds are sub-par still,

The reason? Been playing with words."

December 13, 2005 at 08:15 AM · You need to break up a long practice session

Preucil knows it isn't regression

if you're playing s***

He won't mind a bit

as long as it stays in a lesson

December 13, 2005 at 08:56 AM · True Jim - I think you can tell

that it ain't Preucil's style to yell,

but he's such a great teacher,

(high standards will meet yer'),

Bad playing in a lesson feels, to me, just like - well...

=)

The violin concerto of Barber,

causes my cardiac muscle to harbour,

such bursting emotion,

of love and devotion,

it turns purple like grapes on an arbour.

December 13, 2005 at 01:59 PM · Ah, the limerick once again does emerge.

Its presence once again does surge.

To subject violins

To the limerick's sins

Is not a dance but a durge.

The lure of the limerick is cunning.

Though in the opposite direction you're running,

Once you're hooked,

Your goose is cooked,

And you become addicted to punning.

So whatever irreverent thoughts you harbor

About Heifetz, Brahms, or Barber,

In your brain the limerick's staying,

No matter where you are playing --

At the festivals of Aspen or Marlber

.......................o

There once was an elf from Guelph

Who bought a violin off the shelf.

His primary feature

Was that he needed no teacher;

He figured out how to finger himself.

December 13, 2005 at 02:38 PM · Oh no! Sander's finally done it,

He's written the poem (not a sonnet)

with elf, shelf, and Guelph,

(he said so himself),

once posted, he might want to "gun it."

Just kidding Sander, it's quite brilliant,

though - while some of these poems enchant -

others (including my own)

make my mouth want to foam,

and remind me of my silly aunt.

December 13, 2005 at 04:37 PM · Nicholas, thanks for the kudo.

To be lauded for this mental Judo

Is not something garish,

But an honor to cherish.

It's for real, and not just pseudo.

The elf/Guelph challenge was a stumper

I almost threw in the dumper.

But with limericks infected,

And my inspiration resurrected,

My brain poured it out like a pumper.

December 13, 2005 at 06:04 PM · His cello concerto? I adore that.

And his symphonies (nine) show he's no hack.

But I must say, I'm bored

When I hear the first chord

of the "Violinconzert" by Anton' Dvorak.

December 13, 2005 at 06:40 PM · Nielsen's Violin Concerto is strong,

And to ignore its beauties is wrong.

But it could have been its fate

To have become truly great

If it was only half as long.

December 14, 2005 at 01:28 PM · I missed a golden opportunity to make one slight but significant change in the previous limerick. So here's the way it SHOULD read:

Nielsen's Violin Concerto is strong,

And to ignore its beauties is wrong.

But it could have been its fate

To have become twice as great

If it was only half as long.

December 15, 2005 at 05:04 PM · The Neilsen? I've played it! It's great!

Though if you're a violinist, you'll hate

the tenths in cadenza

in tune? that's nonsensa!

Practice long and they might abdicate.

December 16, 2005 at 05:37 PM · I like the Nielsen (don't get me wrong),

And I'm only kidding when I say it's too long.

It's so dramatic,

That any movie fanatic

Would like it to be in King Kong.

December 16, 2005 at 04:17 PM · My memory of the Nielsen is thin

But I remember I liked its curious din

And that it was played

To much accolade

By maestro Cho-liang-lin.

December 16, 2005 at 04:23 PM · That is, of course, to say,

T'was on a CD I heard him play

It wasn't in concert

No matter how hard I wants it

But the CD was from the libraray

December 16, 2005 at 04:27 PM · Are you concerned with meter on this thread?

If yes, then boy am I dead!

At least I rhyme,

or at least I do this time,

So I guess I'd better quit while I'm ahead!

December 16, 2005 at 05:38 PM · I don't care about meter a whit.

For the limerick is an ideal pulpit

To put forth views

With humor for youse.

As for critics? I don't give a darn.

December 17, 2005 at 10:37 PM · Whit

Pulpit

Darn?

December 18, 2005 at 09:32 PM · Sorry, Sander. I realized after posting that that I was being just exactly what you said you didn't give darn about: a critic. I wanted to delete it, but I don't know how. Sorry!

December 19, 2005 at 12:13 AM · Stephen: No problem. Love the comments. The limerick thing has been a lot of fun. Keep 'em coming.

December 19, 2005 at 04:55 PM · Composers from other nations

often lend their names to mispronunciations

As in, Does Bruch

Rhyme with much?

and other such misappropriations

Now I'm not sure if that's true

I know I don't say that, do you?

I just like the way Bruch

doesn't rhyme with much

And I like the rhyming of the big words, too.

December 19, 2005 at 05:05 PM · My inconsistencies may raise a hullaballoo

So please let me ask you:

Should we sacrifice facts as we know 'em

To compose an interesting poem?

Or should we work harder to rhyme and be true?

December 19, 2005 at 08:46 PM · If choosing between "truth" and "rhyme" starts to nag,

And your limerick confidence starts to sag,

Let your choice be led

By what Shakespeare said:

"When in doubt, go for the gag."

December 20, 2005 at 06:00 AM · The cellist named Jacqueline du Pre

Had unearthly talent; she may

Be much more than a star;

Her CD of Elgar

Is the best that I've heard to this day.

December 20, 2005 at 01:46 PM · The arguments on Hillary Hahn

Are not worth getting an ulcer on.

Of the controversial Hillary,

I've had my fillery.

She's a great violinist - admit it - c'mon.

Tis the season for Messiah.

Put away your Paganini and De Falla.

Even a werewolf is blessed,

And is a welcome guest

(Just ask Maria Ouspenskia).

December 20, 2005 at 01:50 PM · Ah yes, Messiah is Heavenly

Whether you're the President or Anne of Avonlea

From He shall purify

To the Pastoral Symphony

The strains cause worldwide revelry

December 20, 2005 at 01:59 PM · Oh yes, and Hilary Hahn (Miss.)

I believe is a "consummate artis'"

Although it must be admitted

That my experience is limited

But surely you won't begrudge this?

(Please excuse the awful poetry

I'm a not a poet and I know-it-ry

But I try

and I sigh

And I can't help but give it a go-etry)

December 20, 2005 at 08:22 PM · About the lamentable and unfortunate fact that I have not as yet become appointed this country's Poet Laureate,

I'll ingnoreit.

December 21, 2005 at 08:54 PM · Sander, that sounds remarkably like the American poet, Ogden Nash!

One of my favorites, one of the funniest, one who made a splash.

I particularly like his meter, or lack thereof

And also the way he makes up his own words to rhyme with the ones above

(This wasn't meant to be a limerick, but it could be a very badly metered one if I ended in -ash)

December 21, 2005 at 09:42 PM · Ah, Stephen, you have noticed in a flash

That I didn't really write the "Nash."

But it wasn't Nash or me.

It was my college roommate, you see,

Who fashioned that bit of Nash-like hash.

December 22, 2005 at 04:15 PM · There once was a fellow named Flynn,

Who invented a glass violin.

Made out of mirrors,

It blinded the hearers,

But for the player, you could see where you've been.

Merry Christmas, Happy Hannukah, and Happy New Year to all.

Sandy Marcus

December 27, 2005 at 07:06 AM · The Fugue in a minor by Bach

is a violin piece that is chock

full of chords that are thorny,

practiced them 'till morning,

which i noticed when viewing the clock.

December 27, 2005 at 08:26 PM · A niece of the late JSB

Found his sonatas her cup of tea.

She bowed all the chords

Using military swords,

And it shortened the performance, you see.

Uranium rosin is prone

To eat your bow down to the bone.

The critics may fume,

And all leave the room,

But you'll be praised for your glowing tone.

December 28, 2005 at 02:05 AM · That gives a new meaning to heavy metal music!

The Uranium Rosin's attractive

But my teacher says it's not didactive

You could go on the air

If your station is fair

And in this way be radioactive

December 28, 2005 at 07:30 PM · "In a radioactive bow, every proton

Will keep its electronic coat on.

It explodes like bombs

When playing Brahms."

(A warning, and why I put this quote on)

And so ends another year.

I haven't made good use of my time, I fear.

Should I practice a scale

Before it gets stale?

Naawww, I'll watch football and have a beer.

December 30, 2005 at 06:53 PM · And so 2005 comes to an end

With its failures and disasters - But I contend

That sharing music's song

Is where we belong.

It is capital we all should spend.

January 3, 2006 at 07:24 PM · Amati, Stainer, Guarnerius,

Vuillaume, Guadagnini, Stradivarius.

If alive in today's world

Would have united and unfurled

A franchise called "Violins 'R' Us."

June 9, 2007 at 05:36 AM · The Ballad Of One Paris Hilton

there once was a young hotel heiress

with the same name as that place they call Paris

she made donuts with her Benz

a cop said, I's takin' yous ins.

And her mug shot made Aphrodite embarassed

Then something happened, I don't know what

She escaped from that place without firing a shot

maybe someone was smitten

with this luxurious kitten

and just said "go home, all's forgot

The judges phone at the golf course did ring

and a voice said a terrible thing

"miss Hilton's at home

the D.A.'s mouth looks like foam"

the judge said "to me you must her bring"

This smart judge he done knowed

go get her or be no-showed

he sent a car

and not a limo with bar

to go get her while red he did glowed

She sobbed and she weeped and she moaned

she said I got ten kids at home

the judge said no you don't

go back to the joint

and he looked at his watch and he groaned

So she rots behind bars to this day

doing hard labor, without pay

with an undisclosed medical problem

that must be some really bad goblin

it's so bad that nobody will say.

June 9, 2007 at 12:02 PM · With poetry worthy of Milton,

You have satirized poor Ms. Hilton.

But why on this web

Have you featured this deb

Without a violin connection built-in?

June 11, 2007 at 04:52 AM · Well maybe you are mistaken

Ms Hilton may not cook her own bacon,

But when put to the test

She sure does her best

To make sure that to jail she is taken.

(sorry couldn't help it.)

June 11, 2007 at 07:46 AM · So she rots behind bars to this day

picking cotton on a chain gang in L.A.

but we'll get her out

of that there's no doubt

if we all write to Congress and pray

June 12, 2007 at 12:58 AM · help......

June 13, 2007 at 09:55 PM · As to the Paris Hilton saga,

It's not enough to make you go "ga-ga."

If she can't play Tchaikovsky,

Then I've had enough-ski.

All I can say is, guten tage.

July 20, 2007 at 07:56 PM · Getting older is one of my fears;

I don't think the shock ever clears.

You've maintained the jive

In keeping alive

This Discussion for almost two years.

July 20, 2007 at 09:52 PM · I remember when I was 18

and looked like a strapping Marine

there wasn't a trace

of lines on my face

and my toenails hadn't turned green

July 21, 2007 at 04:14 AM · Considering Paris' beliefs regarding the violin and those that play it, I find it odd that anyone one would even bother to mention her name on this site.

This is in reference to her upcoming album.

"I'm not going to be onstage playing the violin. That would be gay."

http://socialitelife.com/2005/11/21/a_quote_from_paris_hilton.php

I swear, they're conspiring against me to try to either drive me crazy or make me go deaf; but it won't work. I survived the Backstreet Boys, N'sync and The Spice Girls and I will survive the Paris Hilton like socialites.

July 21, 2007 at 05:40 AM · Dear Juanita...

We'll arrest you instead

For what you just said...

It's kind of a crime

If you can't make a rhyme

On our V-dot-com limerick thread!

;)

July 21, 2007 at 07:00 AM · If Mozart were alive today, he would be...

This man is a Musical Prodigy,

Though often a bit of an oddigy,

His lyrics are crude,

Choreographies rude,

Main topic is human biology.

In London I must find a home,

Next to the Millenium Dome,

For there I can dance*,

To the artist called Prance,

Otherwise known as s*x gnome

* really nice balletic choregraphy to Condition of the Heart

July 21, 2007 at 02:35 PM · AAARRGGGHHH

You all are so insane

I can't believe this limerick craze

Far from this rhyming fury

I do intend to scurry

With all that remains of my tortured membrane

July 21, 2007 at 07:45 AM · I found upon a music store shelf,

a little lady who cast her spell.

She grabbed my heart no longer free,

and coyly whispered, play me play me.

My being a man from Xanadu,

of windmills spread, no fears or dread,

I took her gently on my shoulder,

stroking her strings softly then bolder.

She sang a song pizzicato then,

and whispered pick up the bow my friend.

knowing my soul would never mend,

she played a single note, that would never end.

Ready to bolt, I called my trusty steed to action,

and said dear lady release me to see her reaction.

She laughed and sang even louder than before,

knowing full damn well, I'd leave her no more.

July 21, 2007 at 07:54 AM · Limericks only, people. No sonnets, blank verse, or virelai nouveau.

July 21, 2007 at 01:36 PM · I have become stricken

by a lyrical infliction

I get no respite

from this troublesome blight

and can feel nothing but vexation

July 21, 2007 at 10:15 AM · Glad my rhyme got your attention,

but I don't need no intervention,

Whatever I dunth,

It's that time of the month,

For suffering Pre Concert Tension

July 21, 2007 at 01:22 PM · My poetry's quite a disaster,

these rhymes have no charme and no luster -

coz my english sucks

I'd spend a few bucks

to perish in style under masters.

(My very first rhyme on viola

ends up in "OlĂ , ayatollah!!",

I better accept

I'm lame and inept

to write like Wilde or E dot Zola.)

A violist once had a nightmare:

in this his existence was unfair,

full suffer and scoff

he tried to wake off,

but he stucked in this dream in despair.

Imagine a dream made by Milton,

With miserable hopelessness filled in,

no pride and no fun,

just woe and some stun,

a voice in this dream says "That's built in."

But then he's roused by his assistence,

he hears an applause from a distance,

his service is done,

he's still full of stun,

this nightmare is just his existence.

July 21, 2007 at 04:45 PM · Any violinist (even Jim 'r Nick)

Can put together a limerick.

But why so much gloom

That just fills the room

With sadder and dimmer schtick?

July 21, 2007 at 07:45 PM · Now dancing is really my passion,

And at London Proms it's in fashion,

Vengerov will do Tango,

It should with a bango,

Especially considering he's Rassian

Strathspeys and reels tickled Yehudi,

And put him in excellent moody,

But would he have passed,

On his pas de bas,

And if asked for a Highland Fling would he?

July 21, 2007 at 11:24 PM · The Prom's silly mugging

is to me like some drugging

the british say "bang-o

a russian will tango"

I'd rather see French jitterbugging

July 22, 2007 at 06:32 AM · Oh Mischa, your efforts are golden,

And none of your lines have been stolen (^),

You've done a good job,

There no need to sob,

That 'on this website, Deutsch ist verboten'

July 22, 2007 at 07:43 AM · Thanks Ally for your kind replying,

well, "Deutsch ist verboten"... hogtieing! :(

we have some great words

which twitter like birds,

like Bodengrundheizungsverteiling.

July 23, 2007 at 01:44 AM · There was a young fiddler named Buri,

who would type-up his posts in a hurry.

All the phrases were writ, 'sif the poor man had a fit,

hence the meaning was oft left a bit blurry.

July 22, 2007 at 11:45 AM · You Yankees just cannot abide,

Us Brits to have fun, dip'n'glide,

Josh Bell could do Splits,

And damage his Bitz,

So he'd better stick to Barnyard Slide

July 22, 2007 at 06:35 PM · The Brits wanted Bell to clodhopper dance

but he might hurt his bitz, he can't take that chance

He's now old and poopy

and can't risk one groupie

therefore he'll play but not prance

July 23, 2007 at 06:12 AM · Those Germans are very proficient,

It must be how they were condition't,

To pass off as rhyme,

One word for one line,

Jawohl, das ist really efficient**

But before we go on any further,

I must stick to the tongue of my mother,

'Taliano, not known,

Franglais, Spanglish, got some,

So which language can we now murder?

**Alternative ending:

Like Jim's recycling, REAL efficient!

July 23, 2007 at 12:35 PM · I started the Berg-Concerto recently...

When Berg's Alban finished this concert,

he thought an inscription would not hurt,

he signed at the top,

"For angel" next op. (opus),

and died of a sepsis (that's blood dirt).

To catch Berg's music is quite thorny,

for me and my neighbor (attourney!)

I couldn't ignore

the knocks on the door -

no angel - just scorny attorney.

"We lived out your Brahms and your Mozart!

Your Bach-fugues? Tourette syndrome-brainfarts!

Enough is enough!

Stop playing that stuff,

or I'll play the 'breach of the peace'-card!"

I hate being paused in my Berg-gym,

of course I have tried to explain him:

dodecaphony

(12 tones and no key),

Vienna, the angel, some ism's...

He stood in my room like Dick Cheney,

"That concept ain't be any brainy.

And you are too soon

the heck outta tune:

12 tones are still 12 tones too many!"

[dedicated to my neighbor]

July 23, 2007 at 05:54 PM · You guys are such a hopeless shower,

At the last seven verses now glower,

All come from woo-man,

An' Europee-an,

wha' 'appenin'?, 'Girl Powa'!

July 23, 2007 at 06:49 PM · I can't respond to Alison's mockery

usually her limericks you could say rock me

This time as I sit here,

and give her the old ear,

all I know is she's gotten all Cockney.

July 23, 2007 at 09:01 PM · Jim, those were much better lyrics,

All brand new, and shiny, and not nicked,

I'll give you a secret,

And hope you can keep it,

Football's what gives Mischa her kicks.

The Beckhams have gone to L.A.,

(And the nation cried Hip Hip HOORAY!)

Dave's whiney voice,

Was not my first choice,

We're begging you, please let them stay!!

July 23, 2007 at 09:40 PM · not rhyming your rhymes is as rude

as going to church in the nude.

On other matters,

why's your football have batters?

and I always thought M. was a dude.

July 23, 2007 at 09:55 PM · I also thought Mischa a male,

Her full name, I thought, was "Mikhail,"

A Russian, I considered.

But perspective's transfigured!

(As it would be after drinking some ale?)

A poet I've become! it's foolish

--and some of these limericks are ghoulish--

But at Sander's command,

We take pen in hand,

and...try to think what rhymes with "ghoulish."

The rhyme. It's elusive as vapor

When attempting to put words to paper.

English is the bane

(though I never complain)

Of my life! And of this silly caper.

July 23, 2007 at 10:06 PM · There once was a man called Szigeti,

Whose name did NOT rhyme with "spaghetti..."

OK, that's not going anywhere.

July 24, 2007 at 12:48 AM · But it was good while it lasted :)

July 24, 2007 at 02:34 AM · sheesh is all I can say.

It's violin not poems I want to play,

but Maura made me grin,

violin at the chin,

sheesh I forgot what I was gonna say.

July 24, 2007 at 06:59 AM · It's obviously time for two outings

my passport is batt'ring all doubtings,

to go in detail:

I'm german and male

(though Russia's where my Ma's from coming).

But Alison knows that, this Missy,

in soccer the Brits don't act prissy,

they love to stress out,

(beyond any doubt)

we're divers and cheaters and sissies.

To come back to themes for musicians,

there's something you see in auditions:

a messed up cadence

played anxious and dense

your journey home finished your mission...

You cry in the train without footing,

this sorrow and pain let's you snooting,

you played so damned well,

and now this farewell!!

(this cadence's called penalty shooting). :(

July 24, 2007 at 12:45 PM · A limerick isn't a saga;

some folks here are starting to go gaga.

Keep it simple and short

(said Ol' Mitch with a snort)--

We shouldn't have to use a defogga'.

July 24, 2007 at 01:29 PM · OK, let me give it a try:

There once was a man called Szigeti,

Whose name did NOT rhyme with "spaghetti..."

"See'-getti" is right.

If you can't see the light,

You must be a cultural Yeti.

July 24, 2007 at 02:53 PM · Hot diggety diggety,

I think I've got the hang of Szigeti.

And Ligeti's the same,

What a fun game!

Although my Hungarian is kind of rickety.

July 24, 2007 at 03:58 PM · Although it's no heinous crime,

I confess I'm surprised all the time

To see aural pros' fumbling,

And clumsily stumbling

O'er meter and scansion and rhyme.

July 24, 2007 at 04:02 PM · A woodworm, who worked in Cremona,

became a non grata persona:

he boarded a Strad

and gnawed the bridge flat,

(he loved to dine and hear Ciaccona).

July 24, 2007 at 04:08 PM · These are brilliant.

July 24, 2007 at 04:35 PM · this is a first ever attempt - don't be too hard on a rookie.

There once was a guy from Odessa

Who fared so-so in da Chiesa

But when given a chance

To read through that Brahms

All were stunned, even Mother Theresa

July 24, 2007 at 04:53 PM · Pssst. Read through that Brahms = read Witch's Dance. I'll change this and nobody will know.

July 24, 2007 at 04:57 PM · too late. what's done is done. i tried ;-)

July 24, 2007 at 05:00 PM · Nice!

July 24, 2007 at 06:01 PM · Following Mischa's disclosure,

I'm trying to maintain my composure,

Just look at the count,

Time is running out,

To maximise rhythm exposure

July 24, 2007 at 06:13 PM · I anticipate with glee a hundred,

this threads obseletion then under,

my tired eyes disclosure,

my no rhyming composure,

may practice when this is all over.

July 24, 2007 at 09:12 PM · The limerick's lure is bright,

But an addict is surely a fright.

It gets into your blood,

Turns your brain into mud,

And lasts just like coprolite.*

*fossilized animal feces

July 25, 2007 at 12:04 PM · From primitive civilization,

Descendant from every nation,

To pluck, bow and strum,

Along with the drum,

Has become a human vocation.

Hurry up and finish this thread. Please set me free!

July 25, 2007 at 01:30 PM · Contemporary composers it's true

write music till their faces are blue.

But nobody listens

so now they're just wishin'

they had something better to do.

July 25, 2007 at 02:46 PM · There was a pianist named Farkazs

who said practice was bad for his carcass.

His skills just eroded

His career, it imploded.

He's now playing at Neiman-Marcass.

July 25, 2007 at 04:06 PM · It seems unreal,

to see an end,

to this exercise in rhyme,

and images penned.

I just can't stand it,

only two more to go.

I'm so much tempted,

to pen on the scroll!.

July 25, 2007 at 04:32 PM · And so we near the final coda

Of this doggeral poetic floata'.

Though it's been a kick,

It has made some sick.

(Maybe we should have consulted Yoda)

July 25, 2007 at 05:35 PM · Fear not, O ye wordsmiths so witty!

That this thread's reached its end is a pity,

But it's quite plain to see

There must soon be "Part Three!"

To continue these ludicrous ditties.

This discussion has been archived and is no longer accepting responses.

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