limericked
1.Fair Youth, I've a bee in my bonnets.You're young and you're pretty. I fawn. It'sfrom here I begin,I just hope you're infor a whole lot of (limericked) sonnets.

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2.Your vigorous youth will abate,just cold blood and wrinkles await.Make use of that spunkwhile you're still a hunk —before you get old, procreate!

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3.Your beauty just shouldn't go solo.You really should be someone's beau, sothose looks get passed down'fore you're in the ground.I guess what I'm saying is #YOLO?

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4.When I warn you of "all of your fairfeatures failing," you claim not to care.You're a master debaterbut sooner or lateryou'll see my side and try for an heir.

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5.It's fairly unfair how time's chillingyour beauty; please get to distillingthat lusty young essence before its senescence.You've heard the whole thing re: Seed Spilling.

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6.Said it once, and I'll say it again;have a babe. Even better, have ten.Just work with me here—stop shaking your spear;maybe go on a date now and then.

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7.When en'tring a room everybodyjust hollers. It's really quite bawdy:"he's as hot as the sunlight!"Can you please have a son rightaway, so your sun stays a hottie?

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8.If music to your ears sounds tart,there's no use in keeping your heart.Get thee to the altar;'member what I taught ya:stop soloing, just play your part.

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9.You're worried your widow would swoon?That argument's quite picayune.We're now nine poems in,start making some kin.I ain't stopping 'til you change your tune

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10.Yes, I know you've a different plan,but you really must start your own clan.You're beloved of many, but don't want to get any?!Well, I'm here if you need a wingman.

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11.Your fine beauty deserves veneration:nature built you for good duplication.You're so well-endowed,fields want to be ploughed.Sow the seeds for a new generation!

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12.The clock keeps on tocking amidtime, death, and the seasons. Forbidtheir scythe from a-knocking:get that bed a-rocking.(I'm dead serious! Have a kid!)

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13.Repeating again what I've said:please procreate, 'fore you drop dead.Don't shoot that sweet issueoff into a tissue — you know where to put it instead.

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14.You know that I don't read the skies,but I can see the stars in those eyes.The prognosticationthat's within my station:I'm doomed lest those eyes multiplies.

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15.It's hard, tricking you into the prickingof a fertile fair maiden; for tickingTime can still necroseev'rything that growsexcept verse — so I keep limericking.

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16.And I'm sorry if you see these succorsas a pain or as something that tuckers.But there's no use in fighting,I've committed to writinga hundred-ten more of these fuckers.

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17.These poems are a devious sort,because the good looks they exhortwill seem misconstructionswithout reproductions—a hot kid's a perfect retort.

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18.Perhaps, as I sit here imploringI shall, in the in'trest of scoringcompare thyself, sayto one summer's day,for thou art so hot but so boring.

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19.This one's for that criminal Time,who devours young things in their prime:go ahead, do your worst.Because I still have verse,and my lines and your lines just don't rhyme.

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20.To my man (with womanly moods),my heart (about Nature) concludes:she switched rotors for stators'cause we're both creatorswho are into the pricking of dudes.

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21.The muses are nothing but bitcheswho compare love to flowers and riches.My man's still a hunkwithout all that bunk.It's my truth gets me into his britches.

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22.I've decided, on further reflection, to declare my undying affection: even as we get old,I'll have and I'll holdyou heart, and not (just) your erection.

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23.I know, when my loving tongue losesits words to mercurial musesthat I could succumb.They've rendered me dumb,but a silent tongue still has some uses.

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24.My eye reflects something much deeperthat paint on a painting—my peepersees love's very bestwhen it stares at your chest.So what if I look like a creeper?

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25.Win my heart not with favor or fame;or with honor or titles — that's lame.Be you uncouth or proper, a king or a pauper,just love me, and I'll do the same

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26.Loving Lord, even if it seems witless,I declare, with this poem at my witness:you're not seeing my headoutside or in bed'til you prove that you're worthy to hit this.

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27.I can't sleep, though my body's quite tired,for my mind recalls nights since transpired.It seems when you're away,I'm kept up (so to say)by the thoughts that your presence inspired.

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28.Still exhausted, but to my dismay,those old bastards, the dastardly dayand night have conspiredto leave me untiredand pathetically pining for bae.

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29.My miserable mind can't forgetthe torture that fortune's beset.But despite my disgrace,there's a smile on my face—with your love, just how bad can things get?

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30.To fight off a silent influxof tears, I've a trick. Here's the crux:thoughts of you, my dear friend,cause sorrows to end(even when my whole life fuckin' sucks).

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31.When I'm loving my love's loving parts,long-dead lovers come, in fits and starts,to my mind just to say:the man in me todayis the sum of those former sweethearts.

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32.Eventually, I'll kick the bucket,while young poets (perhaps from Nantucket?)will make my rhymes seem worsewith superior verse—my darling, please tell them to suck it.

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33.My love's splendor shines on everyone,except me, it seems (and it's no fun).Though it leaves my heart gray,I don't know what to say.How do you throw shade at the sun?

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34.Every time I agree to be hostedby my special hottie, I'm roasted.Despite my travails,my beau always bails.Turns out even The Bard can get ghosted.

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35.Fair Youth, when your conduct offends me,I'll still be the fool who defends thee.I don't have the sense to hold things against you,because you still hold you against me.

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36.My darling, I have an admission:in spite of our tight apposition,I think our pair should cleave.But there's no need to grieve,in just days I'll reverse my position.

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37.This Daddy Decrepit's been dreamin'of your body's abundance; I'm schemin'to sit in your partswith the hope it impartsyour beauty, worth, wealth, wit, and semen.

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38.I'm tired of the tired venerationof obsolete Muses. Creationcomes from passionate groans,not those boring old crones.Look to lovers for true inspiration.

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39.Is it really a bit narcissistic(perhaps, some would say, inartistic?)to sour my doggerelwith all this orthog'nalpining and whining for his dick?

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40.My Love's love has done me quite rottenby loving the loves that I'm not in.If they won't release him,I'm okay with a threesomeas long as my love's not forgotten.

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41.I want to forgive my fair vandalfor screwing my mistress. No scandalcan sunder our pair,yet I still despair.Betrayal is quite hard to handle.

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42.One more note regarding our threesome:as third wheel, I've reason to be glum.But if two become onewe can all have our fun—I'm technically still getting me some.

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43.I loathe these dark, dreary, dim days.The night's when I see the bright raysof love while I sleep,though I'm not counting sheep.I love thee, and I'm counting ways.

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44.Were that bodies could move with the freenessof thought or of Heavenly Venus —the land and the seaboth make miserywith the distance they're placing between us.

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45.Love, fixing this darkest divisionmeans giving the wind a new mission:to bring you the fireof burning desire,and a few hundred poems in addition.

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46.There's a war inside me. I must choose,for loving my love, what to use.I see you in my breast,but I gaze at your chest.It's full eyes v. clear hearts; which can lose?

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47.In the case of mine heart v. mine eyes,I'm quite certain detente can arise.For ocular gazesfeed cardiac blazes.Used together, they both get their prize.

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48.Though I lock up my love in my chest,I continue to feel second-guessed.Would that it were not,you're so goddamn hotthat it thrusts truest trust into test.

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49.I fear you'll eventually want toallow our romance to all fall through.In time you'll regret it.But hey man, I get it—you can't tell someone that they love you.

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50.Just one day into travel's divorcee'en the nag feels my wry heart's remorse.We each give a groan;I hate sleeping alone,but it's that or I sleep with the horse.

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51.As I hear my slow horse's hooves drummingit's impatience that's set these loins humming.I've comfort in knowingdespite my slow going,I'll be quick when it comes to the coming.

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52.Fair Youth, you're my heart's greatest treasure.So, when I partake in a measureof your fine liqueur,I always prefersmall sips, for it prolongs the pleasure.

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53.Who care about Helen of Troy, though?Or other such beauties that we knowfrom verses Adonic,when you're the Platonicideal and the rest are but shadow?

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54.Preserving love's beauty and mightmeans capturing more than the sightof a rose that looks rosy,for everyone knows weneed substance for truest delight.

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55.What I'm holding will last a long timeand provide you with mem'ries sublime.No, I don't mean this willy.It's much longer, really:the lasting endowment of rhyme.

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56.My love, a fair bit of forewarning:I'll never grow tired of your thorning.Though you fill me up nightlywith your loving so spritely,my hunger's renewed by the morning.

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57.My knave, I'm your slave, even though itmeans nothing but pain for this poet.While you treat me like shit,my devotion won't quit.I'm helpless in love and I know it.

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58.If I'm honest, love, being your vassal,well, most of the time it's a hassle.Because of your beauty,I maintain my duty;but it's hard when you're being an asshole.

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59.Is nothing new under the sun?Is time a wheel spinning and spun?When it comes to my boo,well, it just can't be true.There's no way there's been more than one.

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60.As said by the Greek Theophrastus:we start to live as death moves past us.The end of our storyis "Memento Mori,"unless we write works that outlast us.

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61.I sit in bed, lonely and moping,imagining you out and groping.The thought shines so brightly,it keeps me up nightly;but not in the way I was hoping.

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62.It's the sin of self love that I viewas the hardest of all to eschew.Though I'm sinning routinely,it's done quite serenely,for I love myself thinking of you.

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63.The garden of youth is a-blighting,as Time's keen knife continues biting.The rancorous thiefwill pluck every leafand all I can do is keep writing.

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64.One more for that criminal Time, and dying, his ultimate crime.I'm fearful, forsooth,for he'll take my fair youth,but the fear makes the lovin' sublime.

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65.Love, I write these because it's my dutyto preserve your encompassing beautyfrom mortality's ragewith the ink on this page;else the future can't know you're a cutie.

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66.While I'm done with society's illing,and consider my person quite willingand ready to quit it,I cannot permit it;for my loving prohibits my killing.

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67.Though, given the tragic infection,of ev'ry last man in connectionwith society's ills,I must say it killsme, seeing you feel its affection.

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68.My glorious lord is the versoto dainty curled darlings who're socompelled to the snatchingof wigs for the thatchingof unworthy heads (it's perverse, no?)

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69.When my fair flower's out, I'm here dreadingthat in secret, the place that he's headingis a good night of whoring—I know he looks boring,but he's really a freak in the bedding.

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70.I've been a bit harsh, I admit it.I've green eyes and it's hard to quit it—enlarged in my envyespecially when hegoes out and the world wants to hit it.

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71.When I shuffle this coil, don't combat it.I love you, but death is such that itjust won't be sweet sorrowif there's no tomorrow.So forget it, and me while you're at it.

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72.And love, when I'm finally dying,please don't go about testifyingof me and my virtueor other thing untrue,say nothing; then you won't be lying.

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73.The clock of my life is past noon;I can't make my Autumn a June. I've been harping a while,but just once more for style:we're all gonna die fairly soon.

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74.but dying? There's no need to fear it.I will, with Shakespearean spirittranscend this cruel planebut my verse will remain,to keep me alive when you hear it.

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75.I'm forlorn, for a hunger's beset me.I pray that its pangs will forget me,but it's hopeless, alack!For you look like a snackthat I'd eat all day long if you'd let me.

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76.There are other things I could proclaimin my verses, if it were my aim,than my love in my lord.I might stop when I'm bored,but I've still got too much to acclaim!

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77.Sore was I ere I saw Eros;my writer as bright as Polarismay see in his glassour love come to pass,but sore I was ere I saw Eros.

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78.I 'spose I must now outmaneuverthese lovesick young bards who'd "improve" thegrace of their bookswith your lofty looks.My muse, you've bewitched the whole oeuvre.

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79.It seems that it's singing your graces,but really, they're stealing your face'slight. Darling, I'm fightingthis devious writingthat would, if you let it, replace us.

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80.There's another that sings more ornatelyof my love than me; it pains me greatly.We can both sail his ocean,but I know that fine motionis now felt by a mast much more stately.

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81.Would that we could be eternalbut alas, we must meet the infernal.My dear don't despair,time's boundless and barebut mighty words are sempiternal.

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82.There once was a time (not too distant)when beauty was but my assistant.These flatterer's verseswill bring me to cursesfrom rhetoric far too insistent.

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83.When I write of you, greatest affection,words but capture the faintest reflection.Even cleverest verseprovides so much worsethan the simplest glance at perfection.

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84.Base flatterer's words can't expressthe truth of you that I profess.Still, your need to be praisedleaves me feeling quite crazed—its curse causes constant distress.

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85.I don't know what to say; it's confusing,to be proving I'm worthy of choosing.The praise from a pengets a hearty "amen,"but it's hollow compared to my musing.

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86.Please don't think I've been scared into quietby some rivals' fine verse; but here's why itdoes seem that's the case:his wry lines on your facecan still send my mind into a riot.

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87.Farewell my love, I'll be releasingmy grip on you given you're ceasingto give riches most vital,for I have no more titleto love that I've only been leasing.

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88.Oh my dearest, my vexing obsessionmakes it hard to withstand your aggression.When we get in a fight,I assume that you're rightand confess to a new indiscretion.

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89.In the face of your words most sadistic,my response may well seem masochistic.My amorous ardormakes fighting much harder;I can't help but remain pacifistic.

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90.And if you must hate me, I'm ready.Don't wait until Fortune's unsteadyreturns take their blow.I'm already low,so come and do it already!

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91.While some get their glory from earning,and others, from strength or from learning,mine comes from my lover's,so unlike the others,it's hostage to spurious spurning.

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92.I can't live without you, believe me.You shan't ever leave or relieve mewith your vexing charms.For I'll die in your arms,or else die just the same when you leave me.

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93.Despite your repeated declaring,I can't know the truth of your caring.As much as I want tofind out what's inside you,I'm stuck on the outside just staring.

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94.Fairest faces, so sweet to behold,still feel sour when I'm in the cold.I chafe at the rudenessof acting with prudenesswhile they flaunt the fine gifts they withhold.

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95.He's shameful, and sinful, and haughty,lascivious, too, but my hottiestill shines like the day.Well, what can I say?We like it when they're a bit naughty.

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96.To admonish my young libertinefor his wantonness would feel obscene.Every time I try loathingmy wolf in sheep's clothing,his charms always leave me serene.

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97.The year and the seasons get older;my love's love, once fruitful, feels colder.Remembering summercan feel like a bummerwhen getting a wintery shoulder.

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98.I sit here despising the spring,while life booms in ev'ry young thing.Its succulent sightbrings me no delight;it haunts me with what it won't bring.

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99.These flowers are fine, but think 'tismuch finer to stare at my love, viz.they've stolen their gracefrom my sweet thief's face,and these tulips are pale compared to his.

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100.Come on, you dumb Muse! Can't you see?Your absence impov'rishes me.Without the foundationof your inspiration,my lays lack their lively esprit.

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101.In truth, you dumb muse, I don't needyour absent assent to proceed.I'll praise my fine youthwhose beauty is truth,and you can just watch and accede.

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102.I silently savor the sweetnessof love, for within its repletenessI can leave lays unsungand find work for my tonguethat requires less lexical neatness.

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103.To clothe you with verse I've imbuedwith praise, love, it would but occludemy true acclamationof no decoration:I think you look best in the nude.

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104.A threesome summers can't killmy summery lust for your skillin looking a prize — they say that time flies,but sat on your face it stands still.

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105.Idolatry's not my pursuitwhen worshipping my absolute.I just want me someof his holy threesome:he's fair, kind and true (also cute).

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106.I'm not the first poet whose lustyemissions describe you, love. Fustyold poets send praisefrom back in their days;predicting a beauty that must be.

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107.Though everything feels so frenetic,I know the pain isn't prophetic.With you I can bearthe darkest despair,for love is the great anaesthetic.

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108.As long as he lives I’ll endeavorto praise my sweet if and wheneverI find him appealing.So, once more, with feeling:I love you, you’re lovely, forever.

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109.Just trust, my departure's a cluethat nothing is better than you.I'll return to you love, for you're all the above,my nothing, and everything too.

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110.And though I have been about slumming,my heart's never wandered. Becominganother's new boojust reminds me of you,when going as well as when coming.

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111.Philanderer, actor and writer,too crude, too low-born, anoutsider.A badly-dealt handis my personal brand;I beg you to make my soullighter.

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112.You're the salve to my painful abjection,my world and my source of direction;I love you for you,and all that you do,like filling this hole with affection.

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113.I'm captured by visions of youthat render my vision untrue.You’ve entered my mindand stricken me blind,but who needs true sight with this view?

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114.My head and my eyes are embattled;it seems that their keenness my cad dulled.Because he's so hot,my mind's gone to pot.I drink from his love and I'm addled.

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115.I once said my love couldn't grow.I lied, it seems. I didn't knowthat my loving cup,when it's been filled up,keeps growing and can't overflow.

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116.My love is a love that's resistantto tempest and to the insistenttick-tick of the clock.A seamark, a rock,a North Star for when joy is distant.

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117.I'm guilty as charged. I admit tomy dalliance, 'twas but a quick screw.I appeal and I prayyou'll grant me a stay:acquit me because I can't quit you.

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118.When sick of my love and untrue,my thirst makes me thirsty anew.Indiff'rence erasedby its bitter taste,I long for the sweetness of you.

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119.I fucked around and I found outthat going and playing the loutcan give one a chanceto rebuild romance —my passion's been given redoubt.

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120.My last on the subject, I swear it:we've traded blows, now I can't bear it.You wounded me greatly,I've repaid you lately;we're both hurt, it's time that we square it.

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121.What good is a bad reputationwith none of the vile recreation?If it's all the same,I'd rather acclaim,but if not, then I'll take consummation.

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122.I don't write to spur recollectionof love or of my love's perfection.I can always recallhow you keep me in thrall;I write to solicit affection.

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123.To one who is smitten, as ever,the clock is a foolish endeavor.I was, I will be,I am loving theeperpetually, now and forever.

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124.My love is a love neverending;impervious, stable, ascendingfar past limitationslike fashion and nationsto heights far outside of Time's rending.

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125.I still have but one thing to offer;it comes not with fame or filled coffer.Once more I will say,it's better that way.Pure-water love's what I proffer.

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126.My love and my lovely; my flower,upon this unfortunate hour,Time's fickle sicklemust give us her tickleand rend us of all but love's power.

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127.My Youth is hence gone from my sight,replaced by a mistress whose brightblack complexionhas won my affection;my tongue will proclaim it all night.

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128.The wood that your fingers are blessingwith tickling kisses? Depressingthat it's not my lips.Else your swaying hips,and even more lips for caressing.

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129.To listen to basest need, lust,creates in me poisonus thrustto plumb the unplumbed but once I've succumbed,I only feel deepest disgust.

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130.My mistress is plain. She opposescomparison; flowers or snows asbut falsehoods unfair.For she is so rare,who cares if her cheeks are like roses?

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131.To those who might call you unfairunfairly, I say "don't you dare!"She can make a man groaneven when he's aloneby recalling her face, dark and rare.

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132.Hark, mark my dark lady's persistenteyes, mourning the morning's insistentand painful disdain,but I love the pain:it's hot when my love's cold and distant.

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133.My Youth and I share a conviction,our jailor is darkest addiction.Each subsequent thrust,my cellmate in lustgoes deeper into our affliction.

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134.We're victims of vicious compulsionentrapped in malicious impulsion.She's spider, we're fly,it's draining me dry,imprisoned in blissful avulsion.

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135.If the question you're asking is "will he?"Of course I Will, please don't be silly—If you will be willful,then I will be skillfulin giving you this fair Will's willy.

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136.And love, in the willing fulfillingof filling full with willful willing,thy will will be filledwith what Will has willed:your Will's willful Will fit for filling.

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137.to be limericked on February 07, 2022

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138.to be limericked on February 14, 2022

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139.to be limericked on February 21, 2022

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140.to be limericked on February 28, 2022

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141.to be limericked on March 07, 2022

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142.to be limericked on March 14, 2022

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143.to be limericked on March 21, 2022

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144.to be limericked on March 28, 2022

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145.to be limericked on April 04, 2022

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146.to be limericked on April 11, 2022

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147.to be limericked on April 18, 2022

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148.to be limericked on April 25, 2022

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149.to be limericked on May 02, 2022

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150.to be limericked on May 09, 2022

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151.to be limericked on May 16, 2022

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152.to be limericked on May 23, 2022

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153.to be limericked on May 30, 2022

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154.to be limericked on June 06, 2022

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limericked is a misguided quest to rewrite all 154 of Shakespeare’s sonnets (and eventually, other things) as limericks. You can learn more about the project here.