Limerick Poems About Imagination | Imagination Limerick Poems
Poem Details | by Sara Kendrick |
Categories: introspection,

No Respect

There once was a man whose intellect
He did not at anytime neglect
His imagination dull
New ideas he would cull
From his colleagues received no respect  

Written: April 21, 2015

Albert Einstein quoted as saying, "The true sign of intelligence is not knowledge but

Poem Details | by Sneha RV The Literature Lover |
Categories: imagination, wisdom,

Logic vs Imagination

Logic will get you from A to BImagination will take you everywhere
- Albert Einstein

Using wit and logic here and there
May help you out in times of despair -
But if you jump from the sky,
And you think you could fly
Imagining does take you EVERYWHERE!

Poem Details | by Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen |
Categories: funnyold, old,

James Hinkshaw

James Hinkshaw

There once was a man named James Hinkshaw.
Who planned to go to town for a jigsaw.
He had hick-saws and jinx-saws
He even had a wink-saw.
But no penny-whinny jigsaw—

He loved riding to town in his rickshaw.
Once he drove there to buy his new jigsaw.
His new rickshaw broke down.
He was not yet in town.
So, he walked there with hacksaw and jinx-saw.

It was a long day for James Hinkshaw.
He walked into town with no rickshaw.
As he went on his way,
A bear started a fray.
So he killed the old bear with his hacksaw.

There, alone on the road was James Hinkshaw.
And the bear butchered there with his hacksaw.
Oh, what could he do?
He felt sure no one knew.
He was there with dead bear but no rickshaw.

Poor old James had not made it to town.
And the sun was about to go down.
When he knelt there to pray,
A peddler came his way.
And sold poor old James Hinkshaw a jigsaw.

James Hinkshaw then had a new jigsaw.
To add to his hick-saws, and winks-saw…
He needed to go home.
In the dark, he could not roam.
What would happen to weary James Hinkshaw?

The peddler who sold James the jigsaw,
Gladly drove him back to the rickshaw.
In exchange for bear meat,
He let James rest his feet.
Toeing home, James Hinkshaw and his rickshaw.

DEDICATED to my grandfather, who would never say, “Pudding & 
Taine…ask me again and I'll tell you the same”   He, instead would laugh and rapidly say, 
“James-John-Hinksaw-Winksaw-Penny-Winny-Jinksaw!” (Of course, this was Not his name)
LOL  His imagination and mine are now joined…again SMILES I love you, Granddad!  

© © Dane Smith-Johnsen
February 21, 2010
Poetic form:  Limerick: a story series

Poem Details | by Fadi Mathew |
Categories: beauty, imagination, smile,

Her Most Beautiful Curve

Michelle fell for a guy named Mikhail
Whose imagination is so fertile
She felt greatly loved
As she has been told
That her most beautiful curve was her smile.

Poem Details | by Krystyna Hrodz |
Categories: corruption, crazy, creation, deep,

Wild Eyes

Through the most simple of things, such as a bed time or favorite music
I've defined myself - one who knows an answer, but will not use it
One who soars with a mind of chaos, with both feet remaining still
Walking and learning with the normal, with a mind completely ill.

When desks transformed into prison cells, wise words left unspoken
The label for my knowledge remained, a pale grey, yet unbroken
Defined by numbers I'd glued to my brain, while never knowing why
I'd been imprisoned in a classroom - my mind floating with the sky.

Soon scholars transformed to prisoners while bandits became the brains
Impossible dreams and visions lived, through those they called insane
My vision burned with eyes shut, as imagination fed the flame
From then perception altered greatly while my eyes remained the same.

A bed time - at first a rule to live by, now signals my dreaming
A simple song - once a background, now the heart of my breathing
One who used to shed tears over reality, I now smiled
Dreams distort the reality of one whose heart becomes wild.

Poem Details | by john fedele |
Categories: anger, anxiety, death, fantasy,

My pen and pad of paper

My pen and my paper,
it's all that i need,
when i want to fuel minds, 
and set sad souls free,
when I'm feeling depressed and lonely,
and my heart begins to bleed,
I drop ink on my paper pad,
and my pen begins to lead.

It leads me away from reality,
the sadness, spite, and greed,
it takes me away to a far away place
where there is no want or need.
There are no limits or boundaries,
my imagination is set free,
if only life were as easy,
we'd all be happy, and carefree.

Poem Details | by Jack Ellison |
Categories: magic,

A Poetree

Ever heard of tree called a poetree It's branches are in rhyme for all to see Each second and fourth branch Many verses at a glance To see it, imagination is surely the key © Jack Ellison 2015

Poem Details | by Jack Ellison |
Categories: fun,

A Poetree

Ever heard of tree called a poetree It's branches are in rhyme for all to see Each second and fourth branch Many verses at a glance To see it, imagination is surely the key © Jack Ellison 2015

Poem Details | by george seal |
Categories: imagination,


   There once was a man,called Albert Einstein.
   A thinker who's quotation, would define.
   Something, he did acknowledge
   More important than knowledge.
   'Imagination' unspoken divine.

   Albert Einstein's Quote.

   Imagination is more important than knowledge.

   4/ 25/ 2015.

Poem Details | by Jack Ellison |
Categories: success,


Friends and I saw the movie, “Thor” last night Totally blown away by this spectacular sight Of visual effects As we craned our necks A fire in our imagination it did ignite

Poem Details | by Jack Ellison |
Categories: future,

Breaking Earth's Bonds

The human mind can drive us to amazing heights There's no limit to how far, as our spirits take flight To the moon and beyond Breaking earth's bonds We're only limited by imagination and foresight

Poem Details | by James Horn |
Categories: allegory, analogy,

My Imagination Did Stretch

My Imagination Did Stretch

My imagination did start to stretch;
If kind friend one day I could fetch;
Sat for spell;
Sad could tell;
Wrote poems while she was a wretch.

Wrote this after reading Andrea's
first prize winning poem.

Could it be if you are a cooperative,
You sure can always afford to live;
Not only cautious,
But also atrocious;
Which way should I strain my sieve?

Poem Details | by James Horn |
Categories: allegory, analogy,

Things Trump Did Abscond

Abscond is to leave hurriedly and secretly, 
typically to avoid detection of or arrest for 
an unlawful action such as theft.

Things Trump Did Abscond

Upon almighty Trump what it had dawned,
He had stolen everything and did abscond;
As we feared,
All were weird;
His wildest imagination it was way beyond.

Jim Horn

Poem Details | by James Horn |
Categories: allegory, analogy,

With Holy Food Have Been Feed

With Holy Food Have Been Feed

Our imagination should try to spread;
When with Holy Food have been feed;
Not tired,
And inspired;
To heaven one day are sure to be lead.

Jim Horn

Poem Details | by James Horn |
Categories: allegory, analogy,

Like Get Off Chest and Let Hang Out

Get it off your chest and other various parts;
Brains, Minds, imagination and huge hearts; 
Open wide, 
From inside,
Start sharpening tool as well as your smarts.

Do you like letting it all hang out,
And always about it start to shout;
Will like luster,
Of a brain buster;
With sick Trump have another bout.

Jim Horn

Yesterday was Costco visitation day and 
also having breakfast at IHOP where we
always stop and then in will have to bop.