The New Miss America

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Australian poet, limerick, Limerick poem, Limerick poetry, Miss America 2018, Miss America swimsuit, poem, poetry

The New Miss America

She’ll be plain and dumpy – that’s true;
And boring as hell through and through.
She’ll wear no bikini,
Have tits teeny weeny,
And sport a one fifty IQ.

Miss America not to be judged on looks

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Moor or Less

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Australian poet, DNA, Genetic traits, Genetics, limerick, Limerick poem, Limerick poetry, Moors, North Africa, poem, poetry, Spain

Moor or Less

Perhaps take a moment and pause,
To contemplate peoples and laws:
It seems in the main
That the people of Spain
Have temperaments much like the Moors.

North Africans and Spanish share genes

Hiding in the Herd

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Australian traditional poetry, Cowardice, False assumptions, Formal poetry, Group think, Herd mentality, limerick, Limerick poem, Limerick poetry, Pluralistic Ignorance, poem, poetry

My opinions most people eschew.
Of my musings, supporters are few.
So such thoughts I will hide
And pronounce with false pride
What I think is the popular view.

Causes & Effects

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Australian poet, cause and effect, limerick, Limerick poem, Limerick poetry, poem, poetry

“Politicians? – How can we respect them?
Of dishonesty we all suspect them.”
But you get, I’d observe,
Rulers that you deserve,
For it’s you and your like who elect them.

“The Muslims have fallen behind
Due to Islam – their thoughts are confined.”
No, I think you are wrong,
Were their intellects strong,
Towards Islam they’d not be inclined.

“Let’s ban sugar for it makes them fat!”
The self-satisfied socialist spat.
No the fat’s just a sign
Of their lives in decline.
Though it’s sad, sugar didn’t cause that.

“I’m unlucky!” the poor loser wailed.
“By bad luck I’m forever assailed!”
But as losing’s his aim
He will lose every game –
No – bad luck is not why he has failed.

“It’s my sixth and its dad’s gone away.
All these men, I just have to obey!
So it’s not due to me!”
Your bank statements….I see….
You have babies because babies pay.

Dog Ugly

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Australian poet, dog ugly, limerick, Limerick poem, Limerick poetry, poem, poetry, ugly dogs

The ugliest dog – is that true?
Well I have known more than a few
With looks much more cursed.
They think that’s the worst?
They haven’t seen some that I knew.

World’s ugliest dog dies

Weight Fluidity

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Australian poet, limerick, Limerick poem, Limerick poetry, poem, poetry, Postmodern fluidity

My doctor says: “You must lose weight!
You soon will be dead at this rate!”
“Oh sure have your say –
I’ll decide what I weigh!
I’m weightless doc, and I feel great!”

Trump the Devil (‘s servant)

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Australian poet, Donald Trump, Evil Trump, Fake news, Hell, limerick, Limerick poem, Limerick poetry, poem, poetry, satire, Trump the Devil

Devilish News for Donald

The Donald, he visited Hell,
And choked on the sulphuric smell.
Old Nick, a vial gripping,
On acid was tripping –
The fiend said: “A secret I’ll tell:
It gives me much joy to confess
That I now control the U.S.,
And hour upon hour
Increases my power;
It’s Hell Trump, for I own the press!”

Breaking News! – One of our reliable sources has reported that Donald Trump recently had a secret meeting with the Devil, aka Old Nick, Beelzebub, Satan etc.. The meeting was held at the Devil’s headquarters, commonly known as Hell. It appears that Hell is located directly under the White House and not under the Kremlin as previously thought.

We’re not disclosing anything, but some speculate that our source, who for obvious reasons will remain unnamed, is embedded with the White House staff, and is carrying out a clandestine surveillance of Trump’s every evil move. Whilst observing Trump, who was at the time dressed in bright red pyjamas with “MAGA” emblazoned on the back, at or around midnight on a date that we won’t disclose, the source saw (but could not record unfortunately, due to a mysterious malfunction of his video camera) Trump enter a secret passageway deep in the bowels of the White House. (According to the source this secret passageway was personally excavated by Richard Nixon in his spare time back in the early ‘70s.)

Luckily Trump failed to lock the passageway door behind him, and the source entered and followed at a safe distance. The winding and steeply descending passageway soon became a narrow, dank, and slippery tunnel, dimly lit with a reddish glow. Gradually the air in the tunnel became warmer; the glow became redder and the source began finding it more and more difficult to breath; the smell of brimstone permeated the fetid miasma and the source had to try very hard not to choke and cough and so alert Trump, who was now some 20 yards in front of him and striding along at a rapid pace. The worse the air got the more sprightly Donald seemed to become.

Gradually the tunnel widened until at last it began to open out and the source saw Trump, still some yards ahead of him, enter into a blazing cave brightly lit by flames which seemed to emanate from the floor, the walls, and the roof. The flames engulfed Trump but he did not catch fire. The “MAGA” emblazoned on his pyjama-top began to pulse with some sort of demonic energy and Trump let out a maniacal laugh – “Hi honey – I’m home!” he ejaculated.

From out of the flames came a short figure all dressed in red. He had two horns protruding from his head and a long forked tail; he was carrying a pitchfork. “Cut the Hollywood inspired humour Trump! Call me honey one more time and I’ll have you replaced by Mike Pence before you can say: ’That’s sad!’” spat the Devil.(Well he was obviously the Devil.)

“Sorry Satan,” said Trump “It’s just my twisted sense of humour, which by the way, half of America, and most of the rest of the world doesn’t understand either. But that aside Nick – what are your latest instructions?”

“Come closer and I’ll tell you,” said the Devil. Trump did as he was instructed, and the Devil began whispering in his ear. The source, still cowering in the tunnel, close to the caves entrance, strained to hear the devil’s whispers, but due to the distance and the constant screaming in the background, he could only pick up the odd clear word and some syllables here and there:

“B???? that f???ing wall! – L??k up the ???ican babies in cages – nuke ????? Korea – Climate change is ????shit – shoot ???lary – Trudeau is a ????wit”. The source got the gist of the conversation.

Soon the meeting was over. Trump shook hands with the Devil. (Another thing he is frequently accused of.) This was followed by high-fives (well, mid-fives) and a brief rap performance by Satan, at the conclusion of which Donald applauded enthusiastically and encouraged the Devil to keep practicing.

The source had seen enough; he turned and retreated as fast as he could back up the tunnel, into the passageway, through the doorway and back to his quarters. He smelt strongly of brimstone and corruption (but mainly corruption.) He showered, put on his blue pyjamas and crawled into bed. It took what seemed like ages for him to get to sleep, and even then he only slept fitfully. He awoke as if from a nightmare, but he knew it had all been very real!

We’ve set down here in print what this totally reliable and honest source saw on the night in question. We suspected that Donald Trump was in league with the Devil and now we have the undeniable proof. Our sources are brave, resourceful, dedicated and above all else – imaginative.

This incredible, fantastic, almost unbelievable story shows that these courageous men and women, our reliable sources, will literally go to Hell and back, so that we may bring you – THE TRUTH.

© Fabricated Articles Keeping you Entertained News

Current Affairs

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Australian poet, brain washing, indoctrination, limerick, Limerick poem, Limerick poetry, poem, poetry

I see – you are well educated.
By the system you have been created.
You’re the cream of the cream;
You flow with the mainstream;
And by them you’ve been indoctrinated.

Commandant Trump

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Australian poet, limerick, Limerick poem, Limerick poetry, poem, poetry

Trump’s locking up all of the babies.
There’s no doubt about it – no maybes.
To camps they are streaming!
Reporters are screaming!
(Perhaps they’re infected with rabies.)

Stalag U.S.A.

It was Barack what done it!

Tags

Australian poet, Kim Jong-un, limerick, Limerick poem, Limerick poetry, North Korean talks, poem, poetry

Who Trump? He’s no dictator charmer.
He’s no North Korean disarmer.
He is just a buffoon;
Go and ask Kim Jong-un!
Give another Peace Prize to Obama!