[Brian Allgar]

Ha ha ha! "Grabber" Drysdale try to snafle prize by sneeking in cheese. But it not proper English cheese but some skwidgy Frensh muck, chiz!

(Good pieces though, Ann and Lance.)

[Douglas G. Brown]

Originally Posted by Adrian Fry

In reading - and writing - a lot of nonsense verse lately, I notice certain words come up over and again. Sieves, wardrobes and noses are three examples. Perhaps the influence of Lear and Carroll is to blame, but we seem almost always to be in a world of Victoriana where trivial domestic items are contrasted and conflated with fantasy lands that could as well represent the Empire. Computers and cars never get a look in.

OK ... here I will take a stab at nonsense verse for the 21st century;

Hyperpanic, Down on the Server Farm

The chrinitoids were crashing and the foonbocks ran amuck.
A fatal misalignment shook the Chan-Noguchi yoke,
Whose overheated thermatrubes had blown the Blunderstruck;
Where some darned fool in tech support had spilled his Diet Coke.

The AntiPanic software then revealed a fatal flaw,
Which obviously melted down the Heinzel teraschlug
From adverse interaction with its gigahexatraw;
Since some darned fool in tech support had pulled the Vergel plug.

The lights were dimming badly on the Master-offerglom;
While on its lower levels, all the treens began to shake.
The Turboscooves still failed to quell this megamerrastorm;
Then, some darned fool in tech support dislodged the uberbrake.

So, pretty soon, the Cybertron succumbed to gigaload,
And flames and smoke came spewing from its Loomis lasterfitch.
Then, all the crew at Server Farm began to hit the road;
Since some darned fool in tech support had broke the Doople switch.

Postmortem revelations by the Reconstruction Team
Have traced the whole disaster to a coffee can of pee;
Which somehow got tipped over on the Super-Catterstreme,
When some darned fool in tech support had lost the restroom key.

[William A. Baurle]

Originally Posted by Brian Allgar

Williamb, through no fault of yours, I was in a ratty mood yesterday evening, and snapped off a hasty and perhaps ill-considered posting. The word "inflict" was unduly harsh, and I hereby withdraw it.

Brian

Hey, I didn't see this post until now. No problem, Brian. As I say, I am unduly hypersensitive. No need to apologize, though I do appreciate your kindness in offering it.

Onwards!

As an aside, everytime I try and write a bit of nonsense verse, it always winds up making sense in some way. Though my example posted in this thread, hopefully, doesn't mean anything.

If anyone is even remotely interested, Kenneth Koch has written a lot of nonsense poetry, some of it metrical, most of it not. I have a collection of his poems and the early nonsense poems, where he seems to be parroting Ashbery (or maybe it was the other way 'round), are very entertaining reads. Koch has a better ear than Ashbery, if one were to ask me, which one hasn't.

[Lance Levens]

Thanks, John and Brian, for the thumbs up. "Tarantella" it is, John. I'll send in a corrected version. Williamb: wouldn't it be great if Koch had chosen rhyme and meter and fixed forms?

[Orwn Acra]

I may submit a variation of this, which I wrote a very long time ago and, during certain phases of the moon and underneath good lighting, I like very much. I may have shared it before, but it's the first poem I wrote that I ever thought was any good:

He and She Carnivore

Mr. Allegretto drinks sherry and champagne
while singing in the shower: Pellegrino down the drain.
If he feels exotic then sushi it will be
with rondo alla turca and the London symphony.

Miss Solei Staccato dines on lobster thermidor
while soaking in white Zinfandel bubbling on the floor.
If she feels romantic, it's chocolate on her lip
and oysters Rockefeller in a creme de cocoa dip.

Mr. Pizzicato, Ms. Adelaide Adieu,
please join us in the washroom, we have room for two.
We will nibble on the dainties, we will wonder what to do
about this situation: eating lobsters in shampoo.

[William A. Baurle]

Originally Posted by Lance Levens

Thanks, John and Brian, for the thumbs up. "Tarantella" it is, John. I'll send in a corrected version. Williamb: wouldn't it be great if Koch had chosen rhyme and meter and fixed forms?

Koch wrote quite a bit in fixed forms. In fact he has two very long poems in Ottava Rima, I believe, but they are not nonsense poems. Yes, I do think if Koch had written some nonsense in R&M, they would have been quite memorable.

Now I'll have to dredge up my Koch to see if I can find something of interest....


**Lots of Koch available for e-readers: There's a book on Amazon which you can see a sample of. The first poem looks like ottava rima with an alexandrine at the end, maybe a try at melding the Spenserian with ottava rima? But not nonsense verse, so I removed the link.

[Michael Cantor]

Duck Soup

The green light Gatsby spotted at the end
of Daisy Duck still permeates my dreams;
a man enamored of a waterfowl seems
odd at best, perhaps around the bend,
but I’ve been there as well; seen love transcend
the barriers of species and small schemes
and laws, and – despite the silly screams –
there’s really nothing there that should offend.

Fitzgerald’s genius wove most skillfully;
from those who paddle on against the current
to oafs, well-bred, and jugs of wine, and how
the very rich are not like you and me.
Jay Gatsby made himself the drake he wasn’t,
and wilderness turned Paradise enow.

[Jayne Osborn]

Michael,
How nice to see you at D & A

I wrote this during a sleepless night in Germany last week, then read it to my husband. He is now quite fearful for my sanity!
His response was, after a stunned silence, "...bloody hell...!"

A Grate Knight Inn

I’ll put some lipstick on my hair
And paint my toenails with cologne,
Then watch my favourite ice-cream cone
With somebody who isn’t there.

I’ll iron a silk purse, put it on
So that my elbows match my knees,
Relaxing with a bunch of trees
Whom I’ll invite, and when they’ve gone

I’ll read a pizza till my head
Is nearly empty, then I’ll pour
Myself a glass of parquet floor
And drive my chest of drawers to bed,

Perchance to swim all night. What bliss!
(I don’t need cactus plants or mice
To have some fun - I’ve tried that twice).
No, nothing quite compares with this.

[Brian Allgar]

Your husband may have thought it an odd way to spend an evening, Jayne, but there's no need to fear for your sanity. After all, some people spend their evenings watching "The X-Factor" ....

[Brian Allgar]

The Vegetable Party

Asparagus and Broccoli detested one another,
Which made young Carrot rather sad; he loved them like a brother.
Hoping to reconcile the pair, he organized a party,
Inviting vegetable friends and leafy literati.

The first one to arrive was Dill, then Endive, Fennel, Garlic,
Herb, “Iceberg” Lettuce, “Jersey” Royal, Kale, and Leek from Harlech;
Then Mushroom, Nutmeg, Onion, Parsnip, Quince, Radicchio, Swede.
The Turnips came in evening dress, a handsome pair indeed.

The house was full to bursting point, no room for any more;
Though guests continued to arrive, they couldn’t pass the door.
The U- to Y-’s were turned away, resentful and upset,
But sly Zucchini crashed the gate by posing as Courgette.

The younger sprouts were full of beans, and though the crowd was dense,
They blithely started playing squash, which gingered up events.
The music was provided by a band called “Sugar Beat”
Till someone let a rocket off, which knocked them off their feet.

“These kids have so much energy!” said Salsify to Spinach.
The revelry was clearly heard from Golders Green to Greenwich.
What rooty-tooty goings-on! What fun and games! What capers!
The guests could hardly wait to read tomorrow’s morning papers.

The party was a great success, the happy throng enraptured -
Until a giant hand appeared, and all of them were captured.
They lay upon the chopping board, a fearful, tearful group,
About to meet their destiny as vegetable soup.