1-21 Limericks

Essentially, a grouping of wordplay.


Dark “Matter?” Dark Mind ?


As galaxies outwardly swing,

The “mystery mass” is the thing:

They thought it was gravity

But All is a cavity—

So Physics was left holding strings.



The Lunatic’s Limerick


It’s lunacy to be orthodox.

Utter foolishness, God’s paradox!

God nailed on a beam?

His unique regime?

A bare tomb is our life’s equinox?


Sagacity Rebuked


He thought his poems buoyant and zephyrous.

The editor’s note was obstreperous:

“Your zealous hyperbole,


Has made your consistency leprous.”



Not Plato’s Cave


I am not an aging curmudgeon—

Sidestep blurting out wordy bludgeons.

Yet being too adamant,

She said “You’re recalcitrant.”

(I moped all night in my man-cave dungeon.)