I stumbled on this yesterday & as we haven't had a 'musical poetry' thread for a while, I wondered if perhaps now was an appropiriate time?
Does anyone else have an amusing musical Limerick, nonsense rhyme, silly story or joke which pokes fun at our chosen ITM obsession?
If so, perhaps you would like to share it with us?
Well, after all, it is Sunday afternoon, (at least it is here) so why not forget your differences, make up, be friends, forget about all that Christmas shopping malarky, & just slide into those comfy carpet slippers, warm up a wee Black Bush toddy & share in the fun.......................................
A tutor who tooted a flute,
Tried to teach two young tooters to toot.
Said the two to the tutor,
“Is it harder to toot, or....
To tutor two tooters to toot?”
An accordeon player from Troon,
was hung like a full grown Baboon!
when he started to play ,the lassies would say,
"Do you know any Bothy Band tunes?"
A harmless ending as ,of course ,this is a family forum!
if anyone wants to read some of my better stuff,My poetry website is referred to in my profile.
Isn't poetry supposed to be about flowers, & fluffy clouds & little birds & bees & stuff like that? Or are we just getting a glimpse here of the true nature of a 'Northern Gentleman'?
Three musicians of very good cheer
Liked to play only when there was free beer
The fiddler, full of brass
Held out his glass
And said, "Surely ye won't hold it a-Guinness?"
There was an old Welshman called Morgan,
Who had a magnificent organ
Said his wife: "You are blessed
With what must be the best
Hammond organ in all of Glamorgan!"
Well here’s to all the fine players,
that despite chiding from naysayers,
carry on quite proud, with their bodhrán so loud,
to the delight of all the goat slayers.
There once was a woman in Mayo
Who was bored, & with nothing to do
So her dulcimer she played
Met a bloke and got laid
I think she was pretty lucky, don't you?
There once was a maid from Nantucket
Who couldn't carry a tune in a bucket
But she finally found
how to make a sweet sound
On her dulcimer how she can pluck it
A young Uilleann piper for banter,
Once boasted a twenty inch chanter,
But when he whipped it out,
He gave her such a clout,
That she left, at a veritable canter.
Hmmm... I am beginning to wonder ,now,Ptarmigan,if you have a thing about lady dulcimer players.Did John Rea have a few female pupils from North Antrim!!!
Whoops. My English teachers would heap scorn on me for completely bollixing the limerick form. Sorry about that. Here's another try:
In a pool of blood the poor bloke
expired with a gasp and a croak
While over him, with fierce glare
stood the bodhran player
Yelling "Anyone else wanna tell the damn pen-knife joke?"
There was a young man from Kilkishen
at the usual Friday night Sheshen
found playing too risky
after drinking the whiskey
and put down his fiddle to lishen
There was a Young Lady whose chin,
Resembled the point of a pin;
So she had it made sharp,
And purchased a harp,
And played several tunes with her chin.
well we're waiting to hear from Ptarmigan
and we know that he'll turn on the charm again
with a pen he is blessed
though many words are a test
and his wisdom will cut through the bull shiite
A young Uilleann piper for banter,
Once boasted a twenty inch chanter,
But she started to moan
when he started his drone
All her Christmasses came ..... Good Old Santa!!
There once was a man known known as Ptarmigan
who, when told ne'er return to the farm again
took his box from the bar
then lit up a cigar
and he set off the pub's smoke alarm again.
When in Raleigh watch out for the Bear,
For your health he does not really care,
He will damage your ears,
With some fiddling, I fear,
When disguised as a cute Sunnybear.
& now Greg:
Have you met our pal greg, the Pianotuner,
He's a Jazz, Band & Orchestra teacher,
On the fiddle he scrapes,
Flutes & Whistles he toots,
But he trained as a double bass player.
I have heard that The Famous Red Grouse
Is a man of wisdom and "nouse"
He'd recommend "Bush"
If the tune's at a rush
Then invite you all back to his house!
A melodeon player from Clare
Thought himself to be extremely fair.
But his looks were quite sparse
And, truth be told, his arse
Measured in at about a hectare.
There was a young whistler from Kerry
Who consumed several bottles of sherry.
The session was ill-fated
For he regurgitated
In the middle of 'King of the Faries'.
One guitarist did not know that he
Sped up most abys-a-mally.
So soon one angry piper
Did hire a sniper
And his corpse was found deep in the sea.
There once was tutor
Who tutored two tutors
To tutor two tooters to toot;
Said the two to the tutor,
"Is harder to toot, than to
Tutor two tooters to toot?"
That's how I learned it from a coloring book back in the '50's. I never forgot it. Alas, if only the useful stuff had stuck!
Thus said our new priest, Father Hession,
who played Ullian pipes at our session,
"All these tunes! All this beer!
All this craic! All this cheer!
This is better than hearing confession!"
(I'll say an extra rosary for that one...)
And now for our great friend who originated this wonderful and non-confrontational thread (and do we ever need one!)
Three cheers for our good friend, the Grouse!
Whose wife kicked him out of the house.
All night and all day,
box and pipes he would play,
and now it's as still as a mouse.
There was a young whistler from Clare
Whose playing (when sober) was fair
But when he was drunk
He played like a twonk
And we all left the pub in dispair
I was playing me old banjolin
When somebody said "What a din!
It would hardly sound worse
Were you flaying a horse!"
And I just felt like packing it in.
I'd just like you to know I'm really depressed today.
From Belfaast Conan fled in the night,
For fear he'd get into a fight,
His PA he disguised,
As a big humble pie,
Now he's eating it, bite by bite.
There once was a poet named cos,
Who in poeting was surely the boss,
But his hobby was fiddling
& noodling & diddling
If asked why, he would just say - because!
Dmarie is a teacher to trade,
So for cash sure she just has it made,
She wallows in loot,
Has Gold Bars in her boot,
While us paupers just stand in her shade.
Here are a few more feable efforts at Limericks, just by way of thanks, for contributing to this thread. Some are poor & the rest are worse, but hey, it's the thought that counts!
sts lives in Massachusatts,
Where he plays, & life's just a gas,
Things with strings are his thing,
But if you dance in a ring,
He will play you his Concertinas.
E.J.S. is unable to pass,
Small Antiques & all things made of glass,
But he'll batter his Bodhran,
Till you think you're a moron,
& Dinosaurs fly out your ass.
Bernie boy is of English descent,
But East Clare's where he pitches his tent,
With Tendonitis he's crippled,
From shoulder to nipple,
& plays fiddle, most decidedly bent.
Geoff can usually be found with a squeezebox,
Which he'll play till he's made both your knees knock,
Then he'll sing with the choir,
Till his heart is on fire,
And then dance in a barn made of breeze blocks.
Now our Brian is a Liverpool Tooter,
And with drink he will splutter & splooter,
But his roots are in Down,
though he's now under-down,
On an Island that they call Tasmaniar.
EXCELLENT! Ptarmigan and all- thanks for a really great thread. I enjoyed each and every one of them, and will remember these long after the s___ begins to fly once again.
Just so that nobody feels left out. Here are a few more for those who contributed to this nonsense. That should mean that I have insulted everyone here now!
Naw, surely not, it's just a bit of fun.
Zazzalizz has a passion for Polkas,
Which he plays on his strings, drums & boxes,
With his tonsils he'll chanter,
Like a Duck in a mincer,
But he sounds like John Doyle with his Axes.
Now Graewolf is a mystery man,
But we know he's from old Washington,
Does he pluck, toot or thrash?
Does he scrape, honk or bash?
Or does he just sit & howl at the Moon?
Now Bob lives in dark Africa,
And with Whistles this man will go far,
For he's cornered the market,
From Cape Town to Tiaret,
Now he's Shrogging like Shrek in the Bar.
Showaddy day dito is weird,
For he's forty & hasnae a beird,
He looks up at the stars,
Plays fast tunes in his cars,
But recordings just make him all feird.
I love it! You're close, Ptramigan, I used to live in Maryland, just outside "old Washington"; now I howl (I mean hail) from "old Winchester", in Virginia, where I pluck the mandolin in a local Celtic group.
Tooting Tooters
Tooting Tooters
I stumbled on this yesterday & as we haven't had a 'musical poetry' thread for a while, I wondered if perhaps now was an appropiriate time?
Does anyone else have an amusing musical Limerick, nonsense rhyme, silly story or joke which pokes fun at our chosen ITM obsession?
If so, perhaps you would like to share it with us?
Well, after all, it is Sunday afternoon, (at least it is here) so why not forget your differences, make up, be friends, forget about all that Christmas shopping malarky, & just slide into those comfy carpet slippers, warm up a wee Black Bush toddy & share in the fun.......................................
A tutor who tooted a flute,
Tried to teach two young tooters to toot.
Said the two to the tutor,
“Is it harder to toot, or....
To tutor two tooters to toot?”
# Posted on November 27th 2005 by Ptarmigan
Re: Tooting Tooters-newly composed!
There was a young lady from Larne
had a session with me in a barn!
I tuned her up slow,she was rarin`to go,
and proceeded to rosin my bow!
# Posted on November 27th 2005 by cos
Re: Tooting Tooters
# Posted on November 27th 2005 by Conán McDonnell
Re: Tooting Tooters-One for Conán
An accordeon player from Troon,
was hung like a full grown Baboon!
when he started to play ,the lassies would say,
"Do you know any Bothy Band tunes?"
A harmless ending as ,of course ,this is a family forum!
if anyone wants to read some of my better stuff,My poetry website is referred to in my profile.
# Posted on November 27th 2005 by cos
Re: Tooting Tooters
Isn't poetry supposed to be about flowers, & fluffy clouds & little birds & bees & stuff like that? Or are we just getting a glimpse here of the true nature of a 'Northern Gentleman'?
# Posted on November 27th 2005 by Ptarmigan
Re: Tooting Tooters
Flowers and fluffy couds turning
The preacher says "Girl you'll be burning!"
She said "It's a sin to play violin?
Okay, it's the fiddle I'm learning."
# Posted on November 27th 2005 by dmarie
Re: Tooting Tooters
Three musicians of very good cheer
Liked to play only when there was free beer
The fiddler, full of brass
Held out his glass
And said, "Surely ye won't hold it a-Guinness?"
# Posted on November 27th 2005 by sts
Re: Tooting Tooters
What about this one:
To listen is good, in a way,
But it's better to join in the fray.
Musicians agree
They hear what they see;
The audience hears what they play.
# Posted on November 27th 2005 by Ptarmigan
Re: Tooting Tooters
I like that a lot, Ptarmigan.
# Posted on November 27th 2005 by dmarie
Re: Tooting Tooters - Welsh Rarebit
There was an old Welshman called Morgan,
Who had a magnificent organ
Said his wife: "You are blessed
With what must be the best
Hammond organ in all of Glamorgan!"
# Posted on November 27th 2005 by Ptarmigan
Re: Tooting Tooters
Shame on y'all, it being Sunday and all...(giggles her way to church)
# Posted on November 27th 2005 by dmarie
Re: Tooting Tooters
Well here’s to all the fine players,
that despite chiding from naysayers,
carry on quite proud, with their bodhrán so loud,
to the delight of all the goat slayers.
Peace,
Ed
# Posted on November 27th 2005 by ejsant
Re: Tooting Tooters
There once was a woman in Mayo
Who was bored, & with nothing to do
So her dulcimer she played
Met a bloke and got laid
I think she was pretty lucky, don't you?
# Posted on November 27th 2005 by Ptarmigan
Re: Tooting Tooters-Finisn this one
A young Uilleann piper for banter,
Once boasted a twenty inch chanter-
Lets see if anyone can come up with a good respectable ending for this !
# Posted on November 27th 2005 by cos
Re: Tooting Tooters
Here's one by Lori Keddell:
There once was a maid from Nantucket
Who couldn't carry a tune in a bucket
But she finally found
how to make a sweet sound
On her dulcimer how she can pluck it
# Posted on November 27th 2005 by Ptarmigan
Re: Tooting Tooters
What about this cos:
A young Uilleann piper for banter,
Once boasted a twenty inch chanter,
But when he whipped it out,
He gave her such a clout,
That she left, at a veritable canter.
Well, you did say to keep it clean!
# Posted on November 27th 2005 by Ptarmigan
Re: Tooting Tooters
Hmmm... I am beginning to wonder ,now,Ptarmigan,if you have a thing about lady dulcimer players.Did John Rea have a few female pupils from North Antrim!!!
# Posted on November 27th 2005 by cos
Re: Tooting Tooters
My lips are sealed!
# Posted on November 27th 2005 by Ptarmigan
Re: Tooting Tooters
Great ending Ptarmigan! 10 out of 10! you are truly an Ulster -Scots poet in the true Burns tradition!!
# Posted on November 27th 2005 by cos
Re: Tooting Tooters
Whoops. My English teachers would heap scorn on me for completely bollixing the limerick form. Sorry about that. Here's another try:
In a pool of blood the poor bloke
expired with a gasp and a croak
While over him, with fierce glare
stood the bodhran player
Yelling "Anyone else wanna tell the damn pen-knife joke?"
# Posted on November 27th 2005 by sts
Re: Tooting Tooters
There was a young man from Kilkishen
at the usual Friday night Sheshen
found playing too risky
after drinking the whiskey
and put down his fiddle to lishen
Happens most Fridays at around 2.00am.
# Posted on November 27th 2005 by Bernie
Re: Tooting Tooters
There was a Young Lady whose chin,
Resembled the point of a pin;
So she had it made sharp,
And purchased a harp,
And played several tunes with her chin.
by Edward Lear
# Posted on November 27th 2005 by Ptarmigan
Re: Tooting Tooters
a fine reel being drawn tunefully uncluttered from the wooden flute,
I am transcended to new aspirations
# Posted on November 27th 2005 by Sunnybear
Re: Tooting Tooters
The silly old fiddler from Clare
was told to sit in her chair
so she ordered a beer
drank in good cheer
and proceeded to play a slow air
# Posted on November 27th 2005 by Sunnybear
Re: Tooting Tooters
well we're waiting to hear from Ptarmigan
and we know that he'll turn on the charm again
with a pen he is blessed
though many words are a test
and his wisdom will cut through the bull shiite
(couldn't think of a good ending)
# Posted on November 27th 2005 by Sunnybear
Re: Tooting Tooters
Ha Ha....nice one Sunny. But a more realistic ending might be:
and his post always ends in the bin.
# Posted on November 27th 2005 by Ptarmigan
Re: Tooting Tooters
A young Uilleann piper for banter,
Once boasted a twenty inch chanter,
But she started to moan
when he started his drone
All her Christmasses came ..... Good Old Santa!!
# Posted on November 27th 2005 by geoffwright
Re: Tooting Tooters
(WARNING-hold your nose before you read this-)
There once was a man known known as Ptarmigan
who, when told ne'er return to the farm again
took his box from the bar
then lit up a cigar
and he set off the pub's smoke alarm again.
# Posted on November 27th 2005 by Greg the Piano Tuner
Re: Tooting Tooters
OK this means war:
First one for sunny:
When in Raleigh watch out for the Bear,
For your health he does not really care,
He will damage your ears,
With some fiddling, I fear,
When disguised as a cute Sunnybear.
& now Greg:
Have you met our pal greg, the Pianotuner,
He's a Jazz, Band & Orchestra teacher,
On the fiddle he scrapes,
Flutes & Whistles he toots,
But he trained as a double bass player.
# Posted on November 27th 2005 by Ptarmigan
Re: Tooting Tooters
I have heard that The Famous Red Grouse
Is a man of wisdom and "nouse"
He'd recommend "Bush"
If the tune's at a rush
Then invite you all back to his house!
Hope that's in the right "spirit" Mr. Lapogus!
Brianxxx
# Posted on November 27th 2005 by briantheflute
Re: Tooting Tooters
A melodeon player from Clare
Thought himself to be extremely fair.
But his looks were quite sparse
And, truth be told, his arse
Measured in at about a hectare.
There was a young whistler from Kerry
Who consumed several bottles of sherry.
The session was ill-fated
For he regurgitated
In the middle of 'King of the Faries'.
One guitarist did not know that he
Sped up most abys-a-mally.
So soon one angry piper
Did hire a sniper
And his corpse was found deep in the sea.
I made these up on the spur of the moment.
# Posted on November 28th 2005 by Zazzaliss
Re: Tooting Tooters
hehehe
# Posted on November 28th 2005 by Sunnybear
Re: Tooting Tooters
Another variation:
There once was tutor
Who tutored two tutors
To tutor two tooters to toot;
Said the two to the tutor,
"Is harder to toot, than to
Tutor two tooters to toot?"
That's how I learned it from a coloring book back in the '50's. I never forgot it. Alas, if only the useful stuff had stuck!
# Posted on November 28th 2005 by Graewulf
Re: Tooting Tooters
Sorry, first line should read:
There once was a tutor
# Posted on November 28th 2005 by Graewulf
Re: Tooting Tooters
Thus said our new priest, Father Hession,
who played Ullian pipes at our session,
"All these tunes! All this beer!
All this craic! All this cheer!
This is better than hearing confession!"
(I'll say an extra rosary for that one...)
And now for our great friend who originated this wonderful and non-confrontational thread (and do we ever need one!)
Three cheers for our good friend, the Grouse!
Whose wife kicked him out of the house.
All night and all day,
box and pipes he would play,
and now it's as still as a mouse.
# Posted on November 28th 2005 by Greg the Piano Tuner
Re: Tooting Tooters
There was a young whistler from Clare
Whose playing (when sober) was fair
But when he was drunk
He played like a twonk
And we all left the pub in dispair
# Posted on November 28th 2005 by Shrog
Re: Tooting Tooters
I was playing me old banjolin
When somebody said "What a din!
It would hardly sound worse
Were you flaying a horse!"
And I just felt like packing it in.
I'd just like you to know I'm really depressed today.
# Posted on November 28th 2005 by showaddydadito
Re: Tooting Tooters
From Belfaast Conan fled in the night,
For fear he'd get into a fight,
His PA he disguised,
As a big humble pie,
Now he's eating it, bite by bite.
There once was a poet named cos,
Who in poeting was surely the boss,
But his hobby was fiddling
& noodling & diddling
If asked why, he would just say - because!
Dmarie is a teacher to trade,
So for cash sure she just has it made,
She wallows in loot,
Has Gold Bars in her boot,
While us paupers just stand in her shade.
# Posted on November 28th 2005 by Ptarmigan
Re: Tooting Tooters
Here are a few more feable efforts at Limericks, just by way of thanks, for contributing to this thread. Some are poor & the rest are worse, but hey, it's the thought that counts!
sts lives in Massachusatts,
Where he plays, & life's just a gas,
Things with strings are his thing,
But if you dance in a ring,
He will play you his Concertinas.
E.J.S. is unable to pass,
Small Antiques & all things made of glass,
But he'll batter his Bodhran,
Till you think you're a moron,
& Dinosaurs fly out your ass.
Bernie boy is of English descent,
But East Clare's where he pitches his tent,
With Tendonitis he's crippled,
From shoulder to nipple,
& plays fiddle, most decidedly bent.
Geoff can usually be found with a squeezebox,
Which he'll play till he's made both your knees knock,
Then he'll sing with the choir,
Till his heart is on fire,
And then dance in a barn made of breeze blocks.
Now our Brian is a Liverpool Tooter,
And with drink he will splutter & splooter,
But his roots are in Down,
though he's now under-down,
On an Island that they call Tasmaniar.
# Posted on November 28th 2005 by Ptarmigan
Re: Tooting Tooters
EXCELLENT! Ptarmigan and all- thanks for a really great thread. I enjoyed each and every one of them, and will remember these long after the s___ begins to fly once again.
# Posted on November 28th 2005 by Greg the Piano Tuner
Re: Tooting Tooters
Greg! Echo Echo! My sentiments exactly. Thanks Mr P!
Brianx
# Posted on November 28th 2005 by briantheflute
Re: Tooting Tooters
Just so that nobody feels left out. Here are a few more for those who contributed to this nonsense. That should mean that I have insulted everyone here now!
Naw, surely not, it's just a bit of fun.
Zazzalizz has a passion for Polkas,
Which he plays on his strings, drums & boxes,
With his tonsils he'll chanter,
Like a Duck in a mincer,
But he sounds like John Doyle with his Axes.
Now Graewolf is a mystery man,
But we know he's from old Washington,
Does he pluck, toot or thrash?
Does he scrape, honk or bash?
Or does he just sit & howl at the Moon?
Now Bob lives in dark Africa,
And with Whistles this man will go far,
For he's cornered the market,
From Cape Town to Tiaret,
Now he's Shrogging like Shrek in the Bar.
Showaddy day dito is weird,
For he's forty & hasnae a beird,
He looks up at the stars,
Plays fast tunes in his cars,
But recordings just make him all feird.
# Posted on November 28th 2005 by Ptarmigan
Re: Tooting Tooters
I love it! You're close, Ptramigan, I used to live in Maryland, just outside "old Washington"; now I howl (I mean hail) from "old Winchester", in Virginia, where I pluck the mandolin in a local Celtic group.
# Posted on December 4th 2005 by Graewulf