A Collection of Bergson's Limericks
"Reasonable?" she asks, with a gasp, "That's a first, and it's real hard to grasp." Since most look at Cleo And shout: "My-O-Me-O! That girl's got one hell of an asp!" I pray: "Let us make the decision That God lives in EVERY religion. Not: 'My God is bigger You Kike Baptist Nigger!' Which leads us to endless division. Did God give some group an 'exclusive'? The 'chosen', the 'saved', non-inclusive? The minute you say: 'There is only ONE way!' To all others, you're crass and abusive. Jesus, Mohammed or Buddha Or Krishna or Vishnu, Garuda Or Mormon or Moses They all deserve roses Not ONE of them's bad, they're ALL gooda (Sorry 'bout that) I hear, in one voice, mankind ring It's God's single song they ALL sing. The melody varies Like Doves and Canaries But MUSIC'S the similar thing. I'd offer a simple prescription To end mankind's 'right-wrong' conniption. If we could agree What seems so plain to me: Truth and God are beyond all description." Georgann: Some born again experiences are like pop tarts. Whammo. The bell goes *ding* and the thing is browned. (snip) .. like a slow browning on toast. (snip) the person was either a pop tart kind of conversion or has been browning for a very very long time I'm hardly as crude as John Rocker And Ma Church? I'm not here to knock her But will God be brooking This talk about cooking? Is Jesus, His Son, Betty Crocker? In response to the Genital Guy, who had used the name Who Wants to Be a Millionaire's Genitals? A milionaire's balls? Highty ho! Now that's a great thought for a show. 'Cause soon as you win Ladies shout: "Come right in!" You'll go places that poor balls can't go! Some drink Cabernet, some drink Rose' But drink of Christ's blood? No way Jose'! 'Cause if you ask me 'Bout his identity I suspect Jesus was Keyser Soze. Georgann: It was exclusively about *every* person being equally imperfect before a perfect God. You've divvied up life with precision In dumbly dichotomous division You drunk a whole bottle From old 'Aristotle' Who split 'A' and 'B' with precision: It's God OR it's man Either chaos OR plan It's a kid OR adult It's a nut OR a bolt If it's good it's not bad If it's happy, not sad It's a girl OR a boy It's a tool OR a toy Either morning OR night Either wrong OR it's right Either neat OR dishevil It's angel OR devil What's white isn't black Things in front aren't in back You're a pagan OR saved Either free OR enslaved It's a lie OR it's truth You are old OR a youth You've a checkerboard brain Little boxes, insane! Won't you please get the urge Have dichotomies merge Because, THEN you might just get the riddle: Your GOD is the thing in the middle! After Bushman complemented him on his writing: A mad jumbled thought swirl comes gelling. Whence comes inspiration? No telling. I blush. Humble. Red. No. I've not a big head But stand clear! Other parts might be swelling! This Purim, let's tell all the goyim (That means gentiles, girlim and boyim) How God, good ol' Yahweh Said: "Haman? Feh! Oy vay! He screwed with the Jews? I'll destroy 'im!" Let's say it with tongue tight in cheek If Purim's true meaning you seek Then stop all the noshin' On prune Hamentashen Or you'll have the runs for a week! Eyegore implied that Goergann was in service of the Anti-Christ! And Please don't squeeze the genitals commented, It is rude of you to disparage the Anti-Christ so. Ol' Eyegore's not really to blame For giving Georgann the wrong name With her wacky zeitgeist She is no Anti-Christ, But a loony sex-starved Auntie Mame. Cyn replied to that last one: I'm a huge fan of yours, Stephen, but you are defaming Mame, and I take offence. Of erring so, I was unwary. T'is true: Unlike Mame, Georgann's scary! Would fences be mended And you less offended Had I like'd her to Virgin Mary? GOSMG observed that Dr. Laura seems to think everything is really about sex. There's reason that sex, Laura fears T'was a mishap, ago, many years: She fell out of bed Landed square on her head And her Ben-Wa balls lodged 'tween her ears! Someone named Sherri posted a message that was obviously intended to be for Dr. Laura, and Eve said, Sherri, I think you have wandered into a newsgroup rather than the Dr. Laura website. Your remarks and your obvious confusion at the reception you received in this ng are what make me think you are just in the wrong place. If you will go to www.drlaura.com, I think you will find a forum for your comments more to your liking. If you choose not to go there, so be it. Says Eve, our serpentine kitten With kind warning words, gently written: "Go away, stupid witch 'Fore my fangs start to itch And your buttocks get brutally bitten!" Referring to JohnMount, Cyn said Plain women who won't sleep with JM must be "nuns". Attractive women who won't sleep with JM are refered to as sluts. Though 'duh' JM tried hard to trip her Cyn here won one big for the Gipper Our delicate lass Stuck it right up his ass Now he sits on a size five glass slipper. Mount cried: "Cyn! That's really obscene! You stuck the thing up to my spleen! I'd feel less deflated If you'd lubricated Your footwear with some Vaseline!" Cyn says: "Listen dork, I don't care it Might seem that I've played most unfair it Is true that when playing I thought of the saying: "Your ass fits the shoe? Well, then wear it!" Cyn commented, Aww...Stephen, I'm honored, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart, but I must confess: I wear a size nine. I pray you won't think me as petty But now, I'm all edgy and sweaty. I'm sure that you're neat But those big flappin' feet Make me think like I've fallen for Yeti! There there Cyn. Don't cry. Don't 'boo hoo'. There's still some fun things we can do. In case of a flood Or a slide of wet mud We can paddle 'em like a canoe! Cyn answered, Oh goody! Somebody wants to play! While others have mentioned this, too You needn't think I would "boo hoo" If my feet turn you off, Continue to scoff The rest of me's better than true. And Stephen said: For feet, some men catch flaming fire. Metatarsal! Achilles! Perspire! But I don't get kinky 'Bout big toe or pinky My fetish is just a bit higher. Indeed, you set parts of me struttin' (Between necks and knees? I'm a glutton!) It's quite elementary To seek loving entry In neighborhoods near belly button. Cyn continued: So thank or curse your luck Depending on the image thats stuck When I kick of my Keds To climb into bed It's not *you*, dear Stephen I --... Stephen: Rejection? A fate I can stand. (Since love can't be had on demand) So if you don't mind Least ways, 'til I go blind The solution is fimly in hand. Charles Basner, back when he had fewer (three fewer, to be precise) things demanding is time, wrote this: Stephen Bergsen, alone, is the winner. Against one he may find he's the grinner. But if there were two, (maybe more, maybe you!) We can win, even though we're beginners And Stephen replied: If limerick madness is growing There's something all bards ought be knowing: Like sex (not a sin) This is no game to win The REAL joy is to keep the thing going. A loony free-form mad creation Should ne'er be the source of frustration Take time with each trick If you write it too quick Then it's premature expostulation. Charles: I weary of talk homosexual And tirades against those who hate y'all But ne'er will I tire (Until I retire) Of conjuring words ineffectual. Stephen: To reason with bigots is hell Sometimes we must rest, set a spell. But first give Jak a tip (Strictly out of friendship): "When your IQ hits ninety-five...SELL!" Cyn: Though I realize a man has his needs, I'll try *not* to picture that deed But before you begin, Dreaming of Cyn, Of the following words, take heed: Stephen: Do, Lady Cyn, close your eyes. It's a move one considers most wise. At the risk of my life (Hell, I DO have a wife!) There's a big Cyn-bad moon on the rise! Cyn: When you mentally take off my dress Remember what Pope Charlie says Once your need is full-filled And seed has been spilled, Be sure to devote it to Tez. Stephen: But speaking of... uh... 'seed production' I need some accountant's instruction: Forgive my temerity: 'Tez' counts as charity? Yes? What a great new deduction! Tina said (regarding JohnMount): >And what disrespect he has for the women he supposedly sleeps with. A sexual girl is a floozie? John Mount: Ladies man. What a doozy! A libidinal fount The last 'girl' Mount did mount Was a hole in his mattress named Suzie. GregK: Though we shouldn't make rules ex post facto Some poetry can seem quite hacked, so before pressing "send" I do recommend that you trim with a cyber X-Acto. Stephen: Bravo! What a winning wordsmith! (He deserves a response. S'cuse my lisp): Excess, we must trim Lest in yellow, we swim And a poem isn't pithy... just pith! Chas: You exhort us to edit. You're right. In a rhyme extra words are a blight. But don't cut the gristle Or else your epistle Will wax metaphorically trite. Georgann said htat Chas limerick was very well done, to which Stephen said: I'll temper compulsive profanity To serve a much greater humanity: Thank heavens, Georgann You acknowledge the MAN Though he's 'damned' by your damned Christianity. I know. Love the sinner, not sin. What a self-righteous place to begin To look down condescending In ways never ending On everything outside your skin. Stephen realized he hadnt written one about Tina Remiss I've been, and more's the shame No Tina poem? Yes. I'm to blame Since only a fool Wouldn't dribble and drool For some babe with a team for her name. But still, is the girl high on drugs? The Niners? (Brow wrinkles, he shrugs.) It's simply bad taste All that passion to waste On a team like the Golden Gate Slugs. (Jay! Eee! Tee! Ess! JETS! JETS! JETS!) Cleo: August doesn't have much of a yen For me, Ellen, Martha, or Cyn. As cute as we are, We fall short by far... 'Cause August would much prefer men. It's OK. We still think he's swell. But with straight guys we've no parallel. We won't be outdone, We're second to none. We're the Babes of A-R-T-D-L! Cleo Who wonders how Stephen manages to do this several dozen times in a weekend. This is hard work! Stephen: From my birth, it was easy to do. Heck, I started before I could chew! When I popped from the womb Saw the doc cross the room And I rhymed: "Slap my butt and I'll sue!" I rhymed as an eight day old tot They grabbed me. I yelled: "No you're not! Don't take even a snip From that tiny thing's tip 'Cause I need every inch that I got!" Stephen, writing about Jak: Dull Jak with his dull admonition Flames on 'bout an old definition. But with beasts? I say "Ick!" Though that's Jak's bailiwick: He screws sheep in the doggie position. So think, Jak, 'bout history's progressions. Things change in evolving processions. T'wasn't too long ago There were slaves, don't ya know And black folk were *defined* as possessions. Give up homophobic alarms. World's changing. That's one of life's charms. Try and act the tough jock Hold back hands of the clock? Well, it's likely to break both your arms. About Dr. Laura: She brews bileful bigoted broth With dim-bulbs who pledge 'ternal troth Only talks to her own? Then DL stands alone: With two pigs and an old three-toed sloth. A format switch! From Limerick to Haiku: Damn! Those nude pictures! Satan posted them again. How I wish I'd shaved! A silver lining: You may take comfort knowing She's not YOUR kid's mom After Beatlebum chastised someone for a misplaced apostrophe: 'Root' with his ego all swollen Is proud of his 'proof reader' trollin' So Root, here's a comma , Now run to your momma And shove an ! right up your colon! Now copy this poem straight to disk Then 'way from here, you, we'll all wisk Keep up masturbation 'Bout folk's punctuation? Your privilege: It's your * Charles Basner, regarding premarital sex: If god really wanted us to avoid sex until we're married he could have given us less of a sex drive, made us so the first person we had sex with we bonded to. Responding to Tina most foxy The Lord spoke through Basner by proxy God said:"Stick with one? I'd have made it less fun And your semen would be pure epoxy." To follow God's preachers on telly And stick with one, belly to belly The next time you screw You should use Crazy Glue As a substitute for KY Jelly. In a discussion about virginity and the Bible: Toward virgins, we men feel great zest None but virgins can pass the great test You see, mi amigos, They play to our egos: "You're God! You're the first AND the best!" And men stuck with 'gear' slightly rinky Who fear women bolder and kinky Can say: "You're surprised? Why they're ALL the same size: 'Uh... er... um... 'bout as big as a ten year old's pinkie." Regarding Cyns reference to posting in tassels I share Brother E's predilections For bountious bosomic perfections But tell, dearest Cyn When you dance, do they spin Round and round or in opposite directions? Georgann: I'm talking about politics and how liberalism has aligned its goals with non Christians. Of all stripes. They have done an effective job of demonizing the Right with the RR connotation as if to mean the conservative Christians (protestants specifically). You know we don't buy phony cryin'. This victim crap? No WAY it's flyin'! Kentucky's your home So don't act like it's Rome 'Til I buy me a used hungry Lion. August: He's the kind of guy who would be perfectly happy if he could live completely cut-off from female interaction. Some women shriek shrill, some sing psalms Some shop 'til they drop, some give alms But e'en when I doubt 'em I know that without 'em I'm left with no love but my palms. I'm off for a two week vacation Of sun, sinful sex and libation And so, let me say That you'll just have to play Here without all my word masturbation Some find silly poems an affliction And others, a bright benediction But genius or hack Do be sure I'll be back 'Cause this place is a fucking addiction! CodeThis stated that he and Jak were not the same person. Said Shakespeare: "All words are a game. What matter's the thing, not the name." Call it Jak, call it 'code' It's the same fetid load Since the stench is exactly the same. When he came back from vacation, Cleo wrote: We really are glad that you're back, Tho' we really do owe you a "thwack." You got 14 days Lounging, soaking up rays, And we got to listen to Jak. Stephen said: What joy to receive all these 'kisses'! Friendship and friends? T'is what bliss is. Fret not at Jak's act Take console in the fact That not one of you here is his missus. Doth Jak deserve poetic stingers In trade for his non-zingy zingers? He's lost and alone And was cut to the bone: Jak was spurned by his own palm and fingers. Unfortunately (or fortunately) I'm up to my eyeballs in a project at the moment and probably won't be able to do much posting for a time, but I WILL endeavor to endeavor as often as I can. Best to all -- Even Georgann, bless her well-intentioned (though misbegotten) soul And, as far as I know, we havent heard from him since.