Every word, whether insult or moan,
Seemed to come from an ex-FF drone,
But each angst-ridden tweet,
Was an act of deceit,
Sent from Chris Andrews’ iPhone.
John Moynes
Every word, whether insult or moan,
Seemed to come from an ex-FF drone,
But each angst-ridden tweet,
Was an act of deceit,
Sent from Chris Andrews’ iPhone.
John Moynes
In her boots I would look a lot paler,
But a nation’s hopes rest on young Taylor,
No matter what judges say,
Her real fans in Bray,
And beyond, never ever will fail her
John Moynes
Unless you can do better?
Oh yes.
It’s a Katie Taylor ‘rick off.
Lines close at 3pm
Illustration by Brendan O’Rourke
The best Limerick will land an A3-sized poster of the digital painting (below) by Gianni Clifford, we featured yesterday:
It’s no longer daring or odd,
To refuse to believe in a god.
Though I get quite irate,
Reading online debate,
Both sides sound like peas in a pod
John Moynes
(Sasko Lazarov/Photocall Ireland)
Though the landing was quite a close call,
Our robot’s there for the long haul,
Barring unforeseen strife,
We’ll find signs of life,
And not end up like Total Recall.
John Moynes
(NASA)
There’s a shortage of guards on the streets,
As civilisation retreats,
But those at the wheel,
Stick to a tired spiel,
About blaming electrical beats.
John Moynes
It was never a pain or a chore,
To sit down with one’s hands full of Gore,
But now he and Maeve,
Are both lost to the grave,
Life won’t be as much fun anymore.
John Moynes
Image via Gay Influence
Calls for the noose and castration.
Have been made right across the nation,
For a vicious assault,
Has been judged as the fault,
Of “cholesterol medication”.
John Moynes
(Photocall Ireland)
A spectacular show for TV,
But there’s one bit the Yanks didn’t see,
For the victims of war,
Are a tiresome old bore,
If they die in some other country.
John Moynes