This wasn't intentional poetry, nor intentional nonsense, yet it is wildly successful at being both.
Look, having nuclear
my uncle was a great professor
and
scientist and engineer,
Dr. John Trump at MIT;
good genes,
very good genes,
OK, very smart,
the Wharton School of Finance,
very good,
very smart
you know, if you’re a conservative Republican,
if I were a liberal,
if,
like,
OK,
if I ran as a liberal Democrat,
they would say
I’m one of the
smartest
people anywhere in the world
it’s true!
but when you’re a conservative Republican they try
oh, do they do a number
that’s why I always start off:
Went to Wharton,
was a good student,
went there,
went there,
did this,
built a fortune
you know I have to give my like credentials all the time,
because we’re a little disadvantaged
but you look at the nuclear deal,
the thing that really bothers me
it would have been so easy,
and it’s not as important as these lives are
(nuclear is powerful;
my uncle explained that
to me many, many years ago,
the power and that was 35 years ago;
he would explain the power
of what’s going to happen
and he was right
who would have thought?),
but
when you look at what’s going on
with the four prisoners
now it used to be three,
now it’s four
but when it was three
and even now,
I would have said
it’s all in the messenger;
fellas,
and it is fellas because,
you know,
they don’t,
they haven’t figured
that the women are smarter
right now
than the men,
so,
you know,
it’s gonna take them
about another 150 years
but the Persians are great negotiators,
the Iranians are great negotiators,
so,
and they,
they just killed,
they just killed us.
Written August 2016 |
27 January 2024
I never saw a Purple Cow,
I never hope to see one;
But I can tell you, anyhow,
I'd rather see than be one.
Written 1895 |
20 January 2024
In a land of whimsy and tail-wagging glee,
A puzzled pup chased his tail with pure glee,
Round and round he spun in circular delight,
His fur in a tangle, oh what a sight!
Barking and yelping with laughter so grand,
Trying to catch that elusive tail with his paw in hand,
But alas, it slipped away with a mischievous twist,
Leaving the pup in a dizzying, tail-chasing bliss!
Written January 2024 |
13 January 2024
Hello Mr Robinson.
Hello Mr Cutler
have a cup of tea
then
we’ll look at Mrs Robinson
who’s lying dead
next door.
(the next day)
Hello Mrs Robinson.
Hello Mr Cutler
have a cup of tea —
sorry about yesterday.
Written 1977 |
6 January 2024
In a land of whimsy the verbs they did prance,
Conjugating merrily in a wild dance.
The past, present, and future entwined,
Creating chaos in the grammar of their mind.
Irregulars and regulars all in a mix,
Twisting and turning linguistic tricks.
Subject and object in a tangled orgy,
Their journey through time as erratic as can be.
In the end, agreement was reached on their fate,
As the verbs settled down in their conjugate state.
Written December 2023 |
30 December 2023
I always loved the lyrics of Inside by Stiltskin. Complete nonsense, but they make a strange kind of sense.
Swing low In a dark glass hour
You turn and cower
See it turn to dust
Move on a stone dark night
We take to flight
Snowfall turns to rust
Seam in a fusing mine
Like a nursing rhyme
Fat man starts to fall
Here in a hostile place
I hear your face start to call
And if you think
That I've been losing my way
That's because I'm slightly blinded
And if you think
That I don't make too much sense
That's because I'm broken minded
Don't keep it...
Inside
If you believe it
Don't keep it all inside
Strong words
In a ganges sky
I have to lie
Shadows move in pairs
Ring out from a bruised postcard
In the shooting yard
Looking through the tears
Out of a black slate time
We move in line
But never reach an end
Fall in a long stray town
As the ice comes down
River starts to bend
And if you think
That I've been losing my way
That's because I'm slightly blinded
And if you think
That I don't make too much sense
That's because I'm broken minded
Don't keep it...
Inside
If you believe it
Don't keep it all inside.
Written 1994 |
23 December 2023
This might not be nonsense, but I wanted to share it anyway.
In springtime when the flowers bloom,
The bees dance in the afternoon.
Their buzzing hum fills the air,
As daisies sprout without a care.
The sun shines bright, the sky so clear,
Butterflies flutter, spreading cheer.
The trees sway gently in the breeze,
As squirrels frolic among the leaves.
Rainbows appear after the showers,
Bringing joy to all the flowers.
The birds chirp a melodious song,
Welcoming spring all day long.
The world awakens, bursting with life,
Amidst the beauty, free from strife.
And so we revel in this season,
Where magic lies in every reason.
Oh, spring, we cherish your embrace,
For in your arms, we find grace.
Written December 2023 |
17 December 2023
I ate
a zetato.
It tastes
like potato.
But sharp
as a vrabbage.
Written December 2023 |
16 December 2023
Set a monument for me,
built of sugar, in the sea.
It will melt, of course, and make
briefly a sweet-water lake;
meanwhile, fishes by the score
take surprised a sip or more.
They, in various ports, will then
be, in turn, consumed by men.
This way I will join the chain
of humanity again,
while, were I of stone or steel,
just some pigeon ungenteel,
or perhaps a Ph.D.
would discharge his wit on me.
Written 1900s |
9 December 2023
The wind was rough
And cold and blough,
She kept her hands within her mough.
It chill’d her through,
Her nose grough blough
And still the squall the faster flough.
And yet although
There was nough snough,
The weather was a cruel fough.
It made her cough —
Pray do not scough! —
She coughed until her hat blew ough.
Ah, you may laugh,
You silly caugh!
I’d like to beat you with my staugh.
Her hat she caught,
And saught and faught
To put it on and tie it taught.
Try as she might
To fix it tight
Again it flew off like a kight,
Away up high
Into the skigh.
The poor girl sat her down to crigh.
She cried till eight
P.M., so leight!
Then home she went at a greight reight.
Written 1900s |
2 December 2023
