Tag Archives: #nonsense

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.

I thought I saw a polar bear

I was paranoid

about a polar bear,

I took a Polaroid

but he wasn’t there,

he broke my camera,

I was quite annoyed,

and I was taken into care.

Once, I was a dinosaur,

then I was petrified,

I couldn’t bear

to have you by my side,

I was afraid,

then, of a meteor,

I thought it laughed,

I could not be sure.

And now, The Chorus:

All those things

happened in the past,

when I was younger,

and we had a blast.

All those things

happened long ago,

when I was a dinosaur,

and a cameraman…

traipsing in the snow.

Freud, Ian.


I must attest,

whilst in my vest,

I saw a flock of geese

all flying west.

It was the best


which I did own,

but it was far too small,

as I had grown.

The geese did not exist at all,

and I am just a tatty shawl.

Lucille in Lucerne

Lucille in Lucerne

Lucille went to Lucerne

not to steal

but to learn;

and learn she did,

her talents,

for so long

hidden under a bushel,

were soon unhid –

but, being fictitious,

I cannot tell you

a single thing she did.

This is my Forgettable Poem (with its throwaway words and unfathomable phrases)

This is my Forgettable Poem (with its throwaway words and unfathomable phrases)

I don’t expect you to admire my words

when the title has promised so little;

in fact I don’t wish to belittle myself.

But, and here is the but – there is always a ‘but’ –

I seem to churn out the Words

in orders absurds

caring not a jot

for the writing I’ve got,

when rhyme is not

allowed to hasten the plot,

and alliteration alleviating anonymous algorithms

always accentuates absolutely all

apocryphal and actual

(insert something beginning with ‘a’ here)


a tame ending will always leave the reader

wanting less.



I tried to learn to play

the Nihonium

the other day,

with a small element of success.

Born on the Forth of Firth

Born on the Forth of Firth

I was born on the sixteenth day of the Forth of Firth,

and am destined to die

upon the very same day

(how very Shakespearean of me).

A boy named James

A boy named James

A boy named ‘James’

went up in flames

for no apparent reason;

they wondered why,

and one did cry,

“It must just be the season.”

Then a girl,

gave a Viennese Whirl,

to an unsuspecting lad;

he ate it in one, and said, “Such fun!”

but, turned from good, to bad;

he took a boot to a Mandrake root

never a thing to do;

he fell down dead,

and the neighbours said

that they couldn’t give a hoot

to the silence of an owl

who has too much wit to woo.

The wishes of fishes

The wishes of fishes

The wishes of fishes

rarely receive consideration;

they are rarely considered at all;

when they seek a vacation,

from their ocean location,

who is it, then, that they call?