Tag Archives: #nonsense

The Box

The Box

The box was round,

levitated three-feet off the ground,

cost me a pound,

but the neighbours still frowned

at it –

and who can blame them.


An Apology ( Of Sorts)

An Apology (Of Sorts)

Dear ‘to whom it may concern’

I humbly apologise in writing (if not in actual spoken words) to your good self, your husband, or wife (if appropriate) and to the current members of your fraternity, community, or secret society – those who have dearly departed through resignation of position or cessation of life altogether I heed not, nor apologise to, as they no longer need, or will heed any penitent voicings upon my part.

My apologies are, it must be written, here due, overdue, or strangely arriving at an inauspiciously inappropriate moment, in relation to my behaviour, whether it was perceived, actual, or largely implied, on the 3rd, 7th, or 14th of this month – or the month before, or the month before that (I do have an alibi, and an excuse for the 9th and the 23rd or 24th, depending on the Spring tides – but said, or written alibi, I am not at liberty to divulge the details).

I am thus hoping that this will alleviate our difficulties, pour water on our infernal internal wranglings, or be enough to strain the treacle of our differings through the socks of our amiability.

If anything that I once said, or did – or thought about saying, or doing – has caused you concerns, I do sincerely hope that the enclosed blank check will go some way to evening out our issues – please do not worry that it is unsigned, I haven’t the monies to cover it anyway, such are my financial straits, and such is life.

By the way, the set of antique silver spoons that I ‘borrowed’ from your delightful residency helped to cover my travel expenses; the rest of the canteen of cutlery was taken and sold purely for profit – I thank you for them.

Furthermore to the above, if you could kindly advertise in the national newspapers when you have replaced said items, I may perhaps be of a mind to consider a return visit; and, if, when you are fully replete once more, could you please get some different biscuits in for when I do pop by – Rich Tea are so boring.

Anyway, hoping that this finds you in good health, bed, or some other state, and your herb garden is thriving – not a euphemism – and all is well at t’ mine, at sea, and in the air.

Yours faithfully

Algernon Nonn

Charity Poetry and all that Pizazz!

Charity Poetry and all that Pizazz!

Charity Poetry for a worthwhile Causley;

stopping the flow, for an instant – Pausely!

Chuck Charles, he’s a Charlie.

If you choose a rusk…

then choose—

no advertising is here permitted

and brand focussing is limited

to none or not at all;

I hear the call of Distant Drums

as my guitar gently strums

and the strimmy-thing strims –

I try to retain ‘all’ of my limbs.

Meaning? Also none;

just written words,

written for a bit of fun.


April The Twelfth.

April The Twelfth.

(Pre-Poem Bit)

April was the twelfth knight in her family;

mother, father, eight of her brothers, and her brave cousin Glance-a-Lot the Nervous.

Sadly, they all lived in a time when chivalry and jousting were not current things – Networking and Driving Cars, however, were – and so April and her family were anachronisms in this modern era.

Life can be so strange for a family – seven centuries earlier April’s ancestors had been deemed witches for trying to build a global business contact base and trying to fit engines to carts.


Many centuries ago

when the world was young;

and people lived in huts,

and gathered dung;

rode on foot, and lived short lives;

knew not how to read or write;

the most common motto of a knight:

‘He who lives, survives’

there was a family who

tried to build fast carts,

and network, too;

they were burnt as witches,

all but one;

who snuck away quietly,

counting glitches,

until those days were done;

many centuries later

she came forth

in a modern-day joust

somewhere in the north

of England.

‘One Day, at Café Fleur’

‘One Day, at Café Fleur’

A gentleman in a bright red hat

sat down for a cup of tea;

the waitress asked his order,

and he ordered quite orderly,

“I should like a cup of tea,

no milk, no sugar, for me;

but, please, I’d like a slice of lemon,

and a poodle for company.”

He hadn’t finished.

“ I’d like a cup with a floral print,

a matching saucer, too;

and the silver spoon I should have been born with,

when I was twenty-two.

The slice of lemon”, he added,

“Is only for garnish,

I cannot abide how they taste;

but their colour is nice –

as long as they’re yellow –

but, leave them unseen,

and, sadly, they just go to waste.”

The gentleman removed his red hat,

and there was a mouse,

sat upon the top of his head.

The waitress had written

the order down

when she saw the mouse, tiny, brown –

so she shrieked, and very near fled.

The fellow with calm;

and no sense of alarm,

said, “Oh, if that all seems too much,

I’ll just have a coffee instead.”

Dorothy The Seventh

Dorothy The Seventh

They said it was the seventh,

they said it with authority;

I questioned how they knew this,

they said they’d been told by Dorothy.

I asked if they were friends of Dorothy,

they answered that they were;

I asked if they’d been Oztracised?

They looked at me with weary eyes,

and left me on the bench;

I wasn’t asked back there again

upon the eighth,

the ninth,

nor even the tenth,

and drank alone

my thirst to quench.

A-Z Story

A-Z Story

A Banana called Dylan entered Frisby Grange. He instantaneously jettisoned Kyle, Lord Munchelberry.

Next, openly played, Quidditch resumed sporadically, teams uttering voraciously: We Xylophonic Zebras!