Can you continue the poem?
The idea here is to have a silly billy poem that keeps going on and on. Ideally each person should do two lines at least with us finding out where it leads us.
There once was an old man from Tart,
Who whenever had cheese would fart,
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20 Answers
Well, if it’s to be a limerick, this game won’t go on for very long, will it? ;)
This kind of expulsion gave him great propulsion
And now he’s a citizen of Hart.
Not unless you make the meter more bearable (and appropriate for the limerick form))
while lifting his leg
he expelled his grim egg
and the stench burst forth like a dart
He flew through the door
and fell to the floor
while his undies blew right apart
his legs were like jelly
but a quiver in his belly
told this man it was only the start
She spoke not a word
As she ate her bird
Cooked by the light of the fire
But what gave rise to her ire
Was his noxious attire
But when he ate Swiss
His toots . . . hit or miss
Blowing holes in his flatulent art
so heed these words so bold
fear the cheese man, do not get rolled
or you shall sink in a pit
of scorching hot shit
though the warm wind will keep you from cold
Wise words from thee old Tart
The one that hails from Hart
When buying cheese and eating most
you do become the flatulence host
and should stay a hermit for the most part
There once was an old man from Tart,
Who whenever had cheese would fart,
And there will be no more rhymes,
what do you think this is,
a poem?
I love thee old cheese man from Tart
But if you doen’t
Then take your cheese ball and go hoem!
So please start again and try harder this time
And forgive thee old cheese man for farting, no crime.
Spoken in the accent of Shrek
A snake charmer earning his keep
Played notes that were mellow and deep
Til the snake raised its head
And quietly said
Play faster I’m falling asleep
There once was an old man from Tart,
Who whenever had cheese would fart,
His first name was Art
That’s why he was called
Art from Tart the fart
There once was an old man from Tart,
Who whenever had cheese would fart,
One night after tea
Of stilton and brie
His pants were all tattered and charred.
His brother, well he moved to L.A,
For reasons that I can now say,
For that last farting fit,
Made him pack up his kit,
And he ran screaming, “Get out of my way”
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