Tag Archives: #nonsense

‘Poet on the Run’

I’m a poet on the run,

I’ve got a loaded pun,

It’s been a lot of fun,

and how.


But, a poet’s life is hard,

and I let down my avant-garde,

In being chaste by Scotland Yard,

and so I’ll take my bow.

3rd of June

It was late afternoon

on the 3rd of June

when I spoke too soon –

much sooner than I should have done.

I was compelled to stop,

on one leg to hop,

and clean the floor with a sort of mop –

just a wooden pole with a sponge on.

By a half-past eight,

I was in such a state,

that my head in need had started to deflate –

and my arms were becoming much shorter.

And at exactly twelve o’clock,

I turned into a sock,

that went tock-tickle-tock –

and I ran straight back home to my daughter.

Mind Your (Poetry) Head

I banged my head

on the sky, today;

I was just minding my own business,

and, ‘Hey!’

I was stunned for a moment,

then continued right on,

and banged it again,

and again, and again, and again;

it wasn’t easy going,

what with the hurt and the pain.

I finally stopped, gave in,

mopped my bleeding brow;

and here I stand,

uncertainly wondering

about what to do now.

Weird Nonsense

Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory has been melted down;

the Iron Man has been smelted – frown;

Stig of the Dump has had something of a silent career

in a television program called top gear

And ‘High Noon V’ is a movie hit, the producers, they high-fived it; although it was a remake, of a remake, of a remake… of a remake,

it was every bit as good as the first; but, not quite.

And the new release of the film ‘A Man With No Name’ was pretty much the same, except the title character had a given name, he was called Thomas, for many unknown reasons –

perhaps he is man for all seasons.

All this and more,

although what it means,

I am totally unsure.

I wrote it,

and you can quote it –

if you want to.

PS I found out whilst writing this that there is, strangely, a connection between ‘High Noon’ and ‘A Man For All Seasons’ that just happened to be – weird indeed! G:)

The Poon-ji-ba

Many moonbeams ago,

in a land

where a reluctant ‘Yes’

meant a definite ‘No!’

a Poon-ji-ba stood

by the side of a stream,

as if in a dream,

until it was time

for it to go.

“Nonsence, complete and utter nonsence!”

Crows in rows,

and Gollum in a column;

can you tell, yet,

that this is going to be

a sort of nonsense poem?

A seagull

and Sméagol,

sharing a field;

one grasps a chip butty,

the other, a mighty ring

he does yield;

but, I shall not tell,

which was which;

and, so, ‘Unfair!’ you yell.

Aragorn was born

on a cool winter’s morn,

and a strapping youth was he;

he called for his pipe,

and he called for his dummy,

and he called for his fiddlers, too.

Which reminds me of Old King Cole,

that merry monarch,

who had a pet Dover Sole,

that he kept in the English Channel.

Once upon a time,

I wrote a little rhyme,

and was as happy as can be –

that also reminds a song to me.

So, it ends,

with crows still in rows,

but, Gollum,

now perched atop the heights

of Nelson’s tall column.

Dr. Foster’s Gloucester Imposter

Dr. Foster’s Gloucester Imposter

posed a pretty puzzle for the Police.

He looked like Doctor Foster,

but, was, as we are told, an imposter;

‘His posture was wrong,

his accent too long,

and his grasp on medicine

was dilute, not strong.’

The Police posted a picture

upon a lamppost;

and awaited a lead –

as did the Police Alsatian,

who was of a needy breed.


“To be… “

To be,

or not ‘not’ to be;

that is no question;

it is merely the saying

of the same thing…

in differing ways.

To not be,

or not to ‘not’ be;

is just confusing,

and aren’t we

already confused enough?

That is a question –

although it may,

or may not, be

a rhetorical one.

The Cakery Bakery

The Cakery Bakery

was considered a fakery,

by those in the know,

who knew.

But, it was nowt but a sham,

water for a dram,

and it’s frontage was slightly askew –

having been hung by a man named Hugh,

whose ladder was missing a rung.

It lasted a year

and one single day;

but, it was excessively clear

that the end it was near,

the time was nigh,

to leave.

And, by and by,

it did –

as there were none there left

to grieve.

Sofas Away From Me

Keep your furniture at a distance,

I cannot cope with their persistence,

I cannot keep my sanity

when your mirrors test my fragile vanity;

and chairs, chaise longs, foot stalls,

all want to hound me to my grave,

please keep your sofas away from me,

my delicate mind I want to save.