I came across Clerihews, which I had not yet tried and decided to have a go at a few. The clerihew, which our own Robert Wallace in Writing Poems defines as "a comic form of four lines of irregular length, of which the first line is the name of a famous person....The rhyme scheme is aabb; and part of the fun is rhyming on the proper name, as well as making a pointed comment on the personage." I should add that the form was made up by Edmund Clerihew Bentley when he was a school boy, and many of his strike me as sophomoric, like this:
Sir Humphrey Davy
He lived in the odium
Of having discovered sodium.
And yet, what I like about this poem is that it's factual-- at least the sodium part. I found in writing them myself that the trick is to state something accurate, specific, and not just a blow-off line for the sake of the rhyme. There is a lot more blahblahblah about clerihews online, especially at the Wikipedia entry, if you want to read more on the form and see more examples by the likes of Auden, Chesterton and others. (Still, all men, so it's time to take it up, dear Wompos).
Mine tended toward the chatty (which is why I am struggling right now to write a decent haiku), so I really love this example by Paul Curry Steele that Robert Wallace gave:
Okay, so I have drafted twelve clerihews, all using Cleveland Poets. I keep tweaking them, but here they are for now, in alphabetical order.
CLERIHEWS ON CLE POETS
-- THE QUICK & THE DEAD
won't write about catkins.
but on music and towers,
Cleveland buses and cemetery bowers.
Presents “Wordplay” on air,
Good kisses printed on pages
And read on Garrison’s stages.
Reading, cuts to the quick,
With her red hair, so dashing,
And her metaphors flashing.
Reads his poems. His brow furrows.
Then he reads awhile,
Breaks out in a smile.
Could be hostile.
Till he felt you were a true poet.
Then he let you know it.
Had us all to his table.
He fed us and read us
And in all the Poets League chaos, he led us.
Is not a pseudonym.
Her poems “know their way around a knife”
Which is to say they cut strife.
Is gonna wanna
Refine this poem
Before he goes home.
Says, “I’ll read this piece
In the style of Kerouac.
I tell, you, it’s where it’s at."
Is such a trooper.
His teaching, editing, and poems show such a sharp mind,
And then to boot—he’s kind.
Announced to the crowd, “Say, pick
One of my Suhthun stories or two.
I’ll recite them to you.”
After workshops, looked sterner
Till here came her Manhattan with its cherry
And all of a sudden, she grew quite merry.