Wrong Error Limerick

Surnaming

There once was a fellow named Pound
Who hated his surnaming sound.
"Pound of what?" he would query.
"Pound of naught," he'd then very
Quick teach them such nonsense to ground.

A pound of nothing's a lot to waste.

But the sun also sets

The Sun Also Rises

I once heard old Hemingway ponder
If his job closed him out from up yonder,
But I figure if Pound
Can rise up from the ground,
So can Papa's sun rise up to wander.

Yes, I know I reworked a poem from down below, but so what? Moreover, the changes come largely due to misheard lyrics, i.e., creative misunderstanding!

Whose site are you on?

Pound Unbound

There once was a poet named "Pound,"
Who ought better have been called "Hell-Bound,"
For he came from up over
And was surely no rover,
But straight went to hell-work as God's hound!

Everyone has some talent . . .

Nuthin' But a Hound-Dog!

They treated poor Pound like a hound
When they tossed him deep into that pound!
Barking mad was he labeled,
But he's just differently abled,
And can fetch any stick thrown around!

Pound for Pound Underground Limerick

Resurrection

I once heard a heavyweight ponder
If his job closed him out from up yonder,
But I figure if Pound
Can rise up from the ground,
Then that boxer can rise with ease fonder!

Another Great Limerick!

The Bounder!

There once was a madman called "Pound,"
Or so seemed with officials around,
But when they were out,
Was his madness in doubt,
For swift was it gone with a bound!

No Limerick to Tickle Your Fancy?

I don't want to constantly 'pound' on Ezra, so here's a non-Ezra-pounding limerick:

Deadwood Lime

I once had a wood rick or two,
Till a big log fell onto my shoe,
While my foot was still in it,
Such a foot-pound ill bent it,
And left me a lime rick to do!

Inspired by Puns that Tickle Only the Eye . . .

Another Limerick

Round Rime

There once was a man name of "Pound,"
Whose head was entirely round.
You wanted to smash it,
And thresh it and thrash it,
Until it was bumpy all 'round.

Limerick, Too

Pound this Proud One

There once was a fellow named "Pound,"
Who preferred that imperial sound,
For a sixteen-ounce surname
Makes four-fifty-gram sure fame,
If it's big as all that, I have found.

Limerick Today!

Because everybody loves a limerick:

Misdiagnosis?

There once was a fellow named "Pound,"
Whose name boomed Imperial sound,
But as Modernist poet,
Loath was he to show it,
For his mind mental unsound was found.

Take a Pounding: Take 7

A Parody of Ezra Pound's Parody of the Ancient Anglo-Saxon Poem, "Cuckoo Song":

Pound the Whinger!

Whinger is a-coming in;
Ezra sings, "Cod-damn!"
Cats do drop and dogs do plop
By heaven's hellish hound,
And Ezra sings, "Cod-damn!"

Skittish buss or sloppy buss,
They shiver quick his timber!
But limber sounds like limper, suss,
And Ezra whines, "Remember?"

"Cod-damn, cod-damn!"
Belts out Pound,
To counter whinger's hound.

Sing cod-damn, Pound!
Sing cod-damn, Pound!
Sing cod-damn, Pound!
Cod-damn!

And Zippy the Pinhead asks, "Are we effing there yet?"

And I say, "I think so."

Pounding Pound: Take 6

A Growing Parody of Ezra Pound's Parody of the Ancient Anglo-Saxon Poem, "Cuckoo Song":

Pound the Whinger!

Whinger is a-coming in;
Ezra sings, "Cod-damn!"
Cats do drop and dogs do plop
By heaven's hellish hound,
And Ezra sings, "Cod-damn!"

Skittish buss or sloppy buss,
They shiver quick his timber!
But limber sounds like limper, suss,
And Ezra whines, "Remember?"

"Cod-damn, cod-damn!"
Belts out Pound, "Cod-damn!"
To counter whinger's hound.

Sing cod-damn, Pound!
Sing cod-damn, Pound!
Sing cod-damn, Pound!
Cod-damn!

And Zippy the Original Pinhead asks, "Are we there yet?"

Pound vs. Pound: Take 5

A Parody of Ezra Pound's Parody of the Ancient Anglo-Saxon Poem, "Cuckoo Song":

Pound the Whinger!

Whinger is a-coming in;
Ezra sings, "Cod-damn!"
Cats do drop and dogs do plop
By heaven's hellish ram,
And Ezra sings, "Cod-damn!"

Skittish buss or sloppy buss,
They shiver quick his timber!
But limber sounds like limper, suss,
And Ezra whines, "Remember?"

"Cod-damn, cod-damn!"
Belts out Pound, "Cod-damn!"
To counter whinger's ram.

Sing cod-damn, Pound!
Sing cod-damn, Pound!
Sing cod-damn, Pound!
Cod-damn!

And Zippy the Pinhead asks, "Are we there yet?"

Pound for Pound: Take 4

A Parody of Ezra Pound's Parody of the Ancient Anglo-Saxon Poem, "Cuckoo Song":

Pound the Whinger!

Winter is a-coming in;
Ezra sings, "Cod-damn!"
Cats do drop and dogs do plop
By heaven's hellish ram,
And Ezra sings, "Cod-damn!"

Skittish buss or sloppy buss,
They shiver quick his timber!
But limber sounds like limper, suss,
And Ezra whines, "Remember?"

"Cod-damn, cod-damn!"
Belts out Pound, "Cod-damn!"
To counter winter's ram.

Sing cod-damn, Pound!
Sing cod-damn!
Sing cod-damn, Pound!
Sing cod-damn!

And Zippy the Pinhead asks, "Are we there yet?"

Pound's Whine-ter: Take 3

A parody of Ezra Pound's Parody of the Ancient Anglo-Saxon poem, "Cuckoo Song":

Pound's Whine-ter

Winter is a-coming in;
Ezra sings, "Cod-damn!"
Cats do drop and dogs do plop
By heaven's hellish ram,
And Ezra sings, "Cod-damn!"

Skittish buss or sloppy buss,
They shiver quick his timber!
But limber sounds like limper, suss,
And Ezra whines, "Remember?"

"Cod-damn, cod-damn!"
Belts out Pound, "Cod-damn!"
To counter winter's ram.

Sing cod-damn, damn! Sing cod-damn!
Sing cod-damn! Sing cod-damn, damn!

Still needs work?

Pound's Whine-ter

A parody of Pound's parody of the Anglo-Saxon poem, "Cuckoo Song":

Pound's Whine-ter

Winter is a-coming in;
Ezra sings, "Cod-damn!"
Cats drop and dogs plop
By heaven's hellish ram.
Ezra sings, "Cod-damn!"

Skittish buss or sloppy buss,
They shiver quick his timber;
But limper sounds like limber.
Ezra whines, "Remember!"

"Cod-damn, cod-damn,"
Pound belts out, "Cod-damn!"
Against cold winter's bam.

Sing cod-damn, damn, sing cod-damn.
Sing cod-damn, sing cod-damn, damn!

Still needs work . . .

Stupid Song, Cheaper by the Pound

Cold Cat-and-Dog Rain

Winter is a-coming in;
Ezra sings "Cod-damn!"
Cats drop and dogs plop
By heaven's hellish lamb!
Ezra sings "Cod-damn!"

(More under dashed line.)

------------------------------

Sport?

According to some dictionary that I located online, the word "sport" used to mean an amorous dalliance of lovemaking. . . but that meaning is an obsolete one now.

Just as well. I never was very athletic, anyway.

A Friend is Gone . . .

My friend Kent Davy died of cancer this week on the 29th of July, just 8 minutes past midnight. He was only 69, too young for a man to die these days.

Rest in peace, Kent. As I once quipped, you were my best friend in this Seoul world . . .

He goeth before a fall . . .

Kpop Herald reporter Ahn Sung-mi interviews Kpop singer Kang Daniel on his yet to be released, much-anticipated solo debut album, and she opens by asking him to talk openly about this album, which he does (July 25, 2019):

The solo debut album Color On Me was inspired from the second track "Color" a lot. I thought it would be great if my unique color can captivate many people. I want to open up my infinite potential and show my diverse side.

That's the way, Mr. Kang Daniel, keep expectations low. Be the soul of prudence.

One last critique . . .

Enough of the strange porn critiques. Nobody seems to understand them, anyway. I don't understand them. But I do understand that the word "porn" attracts more visitors than I normally receive. I wonder why . . .

et cetera . . .

Concerning porn,
free expression
is
proof-read session.

Nor this amiss . . .

Concerning porn,
free expression
is
breed regression.

And this . . .

Concerning porn,
free expression
is
freed repression.

And Also Heard . . .

Concerning porn,
free expression
is
freeze expression.

Or so I've heard . . .

Concerning porn,
free expression
is
free sexpression.

Technologies of Expression

The pen is mightier than the sword, but is the pencil mightier than the pen? And various other technologies of expression?

Generally, Free Expression

Free press is a handful,
but never an eyeful.

Now, I remember!

"Fear Itself." That's our only fear.

But what's that mean? Let's analyze the expression.

The word "Fear" is semantically already broken down to its most basic form.

The word "Itself," however, can be either "It Self" or "Its Elf."

But what would "It Self" mean? Can "It" have a "Self"?

Perhaps "It" can. Neuter objects are parallel to Masculine and Feminine ones, and each of the latter two has a "Self." But let's leave this for future consideration.

We can dismiss rather promptly the weird expression "Its Elf."

Something possesses  an "Elf." But elves do not exist. Something therefore possesses nothing.

Yes, yes, this is B.S.

Fear

"We have nothing to fear but . . . but . . ." Well, I fear I can't remember what we have to recall to fear.

Free to Speak, Free to Not Listen

Free speech is a mouthful,
but never an earful.