Tag Archives: #nonsense

Sunday Morn

I was born

on a Wednesday Morn,

not a Sunday one;

I don’t know why

I should tell the lie,

that I was born

on a Sunday Morn.


Perhaps my being born

on a Wednesday Morn

is also a lie;

but why lie

about something like that?

It doesn’t really matter when,

the day of my birth is such old hat.

The monkey puzzle tree and me

Q. The thing that’s puzzling me –

the being who is descended from a monkey,

who descended from a tree –

is, if a monkey puzzle tree

is supposed to grow a foot a year;

and I have had mine 15 years;

why, when I went out this morning,

how could it have run away?


A. Well, with fifteen feet,

it would probably have run away very quickly.

Yet another Thursday – revisited

It’s yet another Thursday;

well, as days go –

and they do –

it’s the only Thursday that matters

at this very moment.

I mean, when tomorrow (Friday)


today (Thursday)

will be condemned to the past – history –

and we will all have moved on.


Anyway, it’s this Thursday,

and that means…

well, it means different things

to different people,



Happy wet / dry / other Thursday;


hope it stretches itself to meet all your expectations –

if you have any –

expectations, that is –

about ‘this’ ‘current’ Thursday.

And here’s a Haiku

Especially for you –

I hope you like it.

Umpteen Dumpties

Umpteen dumpties sat on a wall,

The wall wasn’t very high, and one did fall;

he landed safely with ne’er a crack;

the others said, ‘Let’s give it a try!’

they all jumped down

and never looked back.

Off to the beach

We’re off to the beach,

the three Doggoes and one me;

seaweed for breakfast?

Rhyming Slang

Rhyming slang

(with bang, clang,

and kerrang)

may seem simple,

but, I assure you,

it is not.


Many hours

of toil

went into creating

just the right


for the writing

of the above.



much of that time

was spent

drinking coffee

and trying to photograph

songbirds in the garden –

both necessary requirements.


Anyway, rhyming slang

is the real thang

of the moment.

And anybody who tells you any different…

A Banana and a Mango went to Bingo

A Banana and a Mango went to Bingo


My June 2015 poem – a review

I wrote a poem in very early June 2015;

titled ‘June’

about the fact that May had just finished,

and June had just begun.


Over the last eight years eight people

(Including myself)

had looked at that poem,

and none of them

(not even myself)

had liked it.


When the eighth person

looked at it today

I hoped for a moment

that they would like my words

from eight years ago –

it wasn’t to be so.

Poetry Flaw

Is it the poem?

Or is it the poet,

that causes these poems to fail?

Always, one tries, the other mopes

about like a whipped whippet.

And then they reverse places,

or side with one another

in the real realm of Apathia.

Real in the sense

that I have just made it up

and so it now exists,

like a Badriomaku exists.


When the poet

and the poem

work together,

they are above

inclement weather,

and can see the stars

close up,

and close to.


Set apart,

they have no heart.

Catch 10110

In Binary…

as I often say…

a number will become

just a series of 0s and 1s.


I do this a lot –

aren’t I the noughty one?