Hickory, dickory, dock
The mouse ran up the clock
The clock struck one,
And down he run.
Hickory dickory, dock.
That’s the first limerick I remember from childhood, thinking all along it was a nursery rhyme. According to literarydevices.net, Hickory Dickory Dock (née Hickety Dickety Dock) was written by Mother Goose.
Today Is National Limerick Day
Say the poem melodically, with the beat in the right place, and you’ve just counted to 10
Say it out loud again and listen how the K sounds are imitative of the ticking of a grandfather clock. What’s it called when words sound like the sounds they’re describing? Onomatopoeia, as in click, buzz, boing, boom! Britannica’s great definition calls it the naming of a thing or action by the vocal imitation of the sound associated with it. Boo! Hiss! Bam! Ooof! Splat! As a literary device, onomatopoeia can be used to create rhythms. It can also be used to sell cereals with snap, crackle, and pop.
Today is National Limerick Day
Nationaltoday.com says it pays homage to an English poet who wrote nonsense rhymes. He used the AABBA format, the written equivalent of sing-song, simple verses with melodic rhythm, kid-level.
The typical 5-line limerick follows a prescribed structure
A limerick’s first two lines provide an introduction to someone, often an eccentric from somewhere. The last three lines are the set up and finish.
Sure, limericks were first nursery rhymes
But they soon became associated with boisterous working-class drinkers in waterfront pubs in Limerick, Ireland. If they had started off a few miles to the east, we’d be calling them annacotties.
Themaninthepinkhat.com says, “The link between these short poems and the Irish city, Limerick, comes from a popular line of a song, Won’t You Come Up To Limerick? that eventually transitioned into the limerick form. It continues to be a subject of lively debate between nitpicking and overspecializing scholars who don’t get outside enough.
Edward Lear was the homaged English poet
Lear lived his entire life in the 1800s. He is credited as being an artist, author, poet, and musician, but he earned his living as an illustrator, most notably in the parrot collection at the London Zoo. The Edward Lear Society calls him “a poet and painter known for his absurd wit.”
The Owl and the Pussycat is Lear’s best-known work
“They dined on mince, and slices of quince
which they ate with a runcible spoon;
And hand in hand on the edge of the sand,
they danced by the light of the moon.”
There are 112 limericks in Lear’s Book of Nonsense, published in 1927
You can read them all for free over at gutenberg.org, a great source for things that aren’t trending on SnapFace. Those who are unable to imagine what their thoughts would be in those pubs 100 years ago after a day of sweeping chimneys, shoveling manure, or scraping hides will find many of them not funny when interpreted in today’s terms. Those who see the Irish as a poetic, musical bunch have no difficulty imagining them singing and dancing to playful poetry in the afternoon and ribald poetry in the evening along the River Shannon.
As with most “inventions,” Lear probably was not the first person to write limericks
If he had, they’d be called lears. His name stayed attached for so long because he was a highly visible figure who promoted the art form. The belief that Limerick was the source of the term has real credibility.
More people than usual will search <limericks> today
I came across hundreds of examples while poking around. Here are several that illustrate variations on a theme and are amusing for different reasons. The authors and composers are unknown because these ditties evolved over time and many contributed to the words.
There was a young lady named Bright
Whose speed was far faster than light;
She went out one day,
In a relative way,
And returned the previous night.
A hillbilly farmer called Hollis
Used possums and snakes for his solace.
His offspring had scales
And prehensile tails
And voted for Governor Wallace.
There was a young girl from Madras
Who had a most beautiful ass
Not rounded and pink
As you probably think
But grey, with long ears, and ate grass.
There once was a man from Japan,
Whose limericks never would scan.
When asked why this was,
He replied, “It’s because I always try to fit as many words into the last line as I possibly can.
William Schwenck Gilbert was a poet who teamed with composer Arthur Sullivan to produce comic operas.*
Gilbert was also celebrated as inventing a branch of limericks that mixed wit, wordplay, and depth to create satirical social commentary. He particularly liked to make fun of Edward Lear.
There was an old man of St. Bees
Who was stung on the arm by a wasp;
When asked, “Does it hurt?”,
He replied, “No it doesn’t,
but I thought all the while ’twas a hornet.”
Inspired by such poetic achievements, a fellow named Ogden Nash wrote this 100 years later:
A flea and a fly in a flue
Were imprisoned, so what could they do?
Said the flea, ‘Let us fly!’
Said the fly, ‘Let us flee!’
So they flew through a flaw in the flue
I couldn’t leave you today without adding the results of two things I found at the corner of Intelligence Boulevard and Artificial Avenue
I typed <write a limerick about haikus>
There once was a poet so spry,
Who wrote haikus that made people sigh.
With five, seven, and five,
Their verses would thrive,
In nature’s sweet beauty, they’d fly!
and then I typed <write a haiku about limericks>
Limericks bring joy,
Five lines dance with rhymes and beats,
Laughter fills the air.
—
*The three most famous are H.M.S. Pinafore, The Pirates of Penzance, and the Mikado.
Disclosure
As a genre, limericks are short and usually humorous, but some limerickcists (try that, spellcheckers) today claim if ain’t bawdy, it ain’t a limerick. There is a sizable inventory that goes from bawdy to vulgar to crude, but you’re on your own. I wrote a poem to explain it:
On Limerick Day,
I’ll skip Dice Clay,
