[glassmonkey]

There was an endurance cyclist called Mark
Whose laugh was a corpulent bark.
His humour was crude
And horribly lewd
From watching too many South Park.

 

[benjitb]

There was an endurance cyclist called Mark
who whistled show tunes in bath;
the sound was extreme,
to his wife named Eileen,
she hid all his shoes, they were Clarks.

 

[glassmonkey]

  There was an endurance cyclist called Mark
who whistled show tunes in bath;
the sound was extreme,
to his wife named Eileen,
she hid all his shoes, they were Clarks.

This sounds like it actually happened. Poor Eileen.

 

[glassmonkey]

There was an endurance cyclist called Mark
Whose headphones were made of birch bark.
When winter got colder
He fried all the solder
And heated the house in the dark.

 

[glassmonkey]

There was an endurance cyclist called Mark
Who farts hard and barks like a lark.
His headphones are many
That cost more 'an a penny
And abscond in the dark of the park.

 

[benjitb]

There was an endurance cyclist called Mark
whose fetish for marmite was harsh;
for he would "twerk",
as he ate it at work,
singing "I am the marmite monarch!"
 
 
Changed "whose" to "who" (to follow rules to the letter):
 
There was an endurance cyclist called Mark
who had a fetish for marmite, 'twas harsh;
for he would "twerk",
as he ate it at work,
singing "I am the marmite monarch!"

 

[glassmonkey]

There was an endurance cyclist called Mark;
His name it rhymes with a lark,
But Mark he can't sing
No not a damn thing
Unless you count musical farts.

 

[glassmonkey]

  There was an endurance cyclist called Mark
whose fetish for marmite was harsh;
for he would "twerk",
as he ate it at work,
singing "I am the marmite monarch!"

That's so good, it might compete with my overriding inspiration for getting into limericks. Not safe for anywhere and thoroughly in violation of the contest rules; The Good Ship Venus. It can be found on the internet, but my wife has advised me against posting it here, and probably rightly so. You definitely want the Loudon Wainwright III version.

 

 

[Sceptre]

Here's a couple of thoughts.

There was an endurance cyclist called Mark,
Who cycled with dogs who would bark
To cut out their sound
He spent more than a pound
On headphones made from parts of the ark!


There was an endurance cyclist called Mark
who painted Headphones and cars in the dark
He thought that cream
Would be obscene
On momentums and daimler dart parts.

Regards

Sceptre

 

[benjitb]

Quote:

  This sounds like it actually happened. Poor Eileen.

Haha, i hope not.
 
Quote:

  That's so good, it might compete with my overriding inspiration for getting into limericks. Not safe for anywhere and thoroughly in violation of the contest rules; The Good Ship Venus. It can be found on the internet, but my wife has advised me against posting it here, and probably rightly so. You definitely want the Loudon Wainwright III version.

 

Thanks monkey, i had my thinking cap on for that one.
I forgot all about that song, the pistols "'rigging" version was once selected by a classmate for music bring a song to school day, he claimed not to know its meaning!
=================================================================
Continuing the water theme from before:
 
 
There was an endurance cyclist called Mark
who swam in luminescence with sharks;
he had an idea,
to escape from the fear
he'd use tonic immobility to seamark.
 
 
 

 

[benjitb]

There was an endurance cyclist called Mark
whose potence was bluntest with a narc;
to begin his convalescence,
he gave his chemist a severance,
and his conscience became his trademark.
 
 
Changed "whose" to "who" (to follow rules to the letter):
 
There was an endurance cyclist called Mark
who had his potence blunted by a narc;
to begin his convalescence,
he gave his chemist a severance,
and his conscience became his trademark.

 

[glassmonkey]

There was an endurance cyclist called Mark
Who swung his helm in parabolic arcs.
He soaked all with sweat
That smelled like warm death
And the room filled with nasty remarks.

 

[smial1966]

Tut, tut, no adding a word in the first line!  

 
Quote:

  There once was an endurance cyclist called Mark
Who swung his helm in parabolic arcs.
He soaked all with sweat
That smelled like warm death
And the room filled with nasty remarks.

 

[Turrican2]

Decided to submit a couple  more if that's ok. Not read all submissions (seems like there are quite a few!), so hopefully this is not blatant plagiarism!
 
There was an endurance cyclist called Mark
His bike was as old as the arc
He wanted  a GIANT
But his wife was defiant
He'll just have to buy one from Wall-Mart
 
There was an endurance cyclist called Mark
He wanted to ride to the park
But outside it was snowy
Which was  drifting and blowy
I guess he'll just have to telemark!

 

[Mattyhew]

About time I chimed in.
 
There was an endurance cyclist called mark,
Who's ears were keen and sharp, 
But his legs were a disaster,
He couldn't peddle any faster,
And was left back behind at the start.
 
There was an endurance cyclist called mark,
Who treated the sport like an art,
He traveled to France,
And forgot his pants, 
But was told clothing is not a la carte.