Nonsense reposted
This has been a melancholy place recently. Thoughtful but
melancholy. So a challenge to lighten up a bit. An exercise in
imagination and in writing verse.
Nonsense verse changes pattern, changes rhythm and uses made up words. The only rule, so far as I can see, is that it should be silly.
I think it's time to be silly, so here are my 8 lines of nonsense. I invite the cloud to write more in tandem. Let's say min 80 words, max 120 in 8 lines, or less (no more). It must be capable of scanning within acceptable norms for nonsense and I should like to avoid profanity - because it's more of a challenge that way.
To start:
In the land of the whazambamdoodle, they eat only chicken and cheese
For although the koozles like bacon, it makes them go weak at the knees.
In the land of the whazambamdoodle, the chickens are thin on the ground
For although their numbers are plenty, they don’t seem to stay long around
The koozles thought much of their chickens, not just the way that they taste,
But because they are fun to play games with, to eat them seemed such a great waste
So the brains of whazambamdoodle, decided to work up a fix
For if koozles could tolerate bacon, then porkers would be in the mix
Nonsense verse changes pattern, changes rhythm and uses made up words. The only rule, so far as I can see, is that it should be silly.
I think it's time to be silly, so here are my 8 lines of nonsense. I invite the cloud to write more in tandem. Let's say min 80 words, max 120 in 8 lines, or less (no more). It must be capable of scanning within acceptable norms for nonsense and I should like to avoid profanity - because it's more of a challenge that way.
To start:
In the land of the whazambamdoodle, they eat only chicken and cheese
For although the koozles like bacon, it makes them go weak at the knees.
In the land of the whazambamdoodle, the chickens are thin on the ground
For although their numbers are plenty, they don’t seem to stay long around
The koozles thought much of their chickens, not just the way that they taste,
But because they are fun to play games with, to eat them seemed such a great waste
So the brains of whazambamdoodle, decided to work up a fix
For if koozles could tolerate bacon, then porkers would be in the mix
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The whazambamdoodle got busy and issued a stately decree
"For the koozle who finds a solution - a pig that won't weaken the knee -
A position of honour and glory, to be feted throughout the land,
And your very own slice of Caerphilly; we might even bring out the town band."
Soon koozles of all shapes and sizes were putting their minds to the task
For a pork sausage not leaving you legless was surely not too much to ask.
Some tried potions and lotions and others tried syrup-of-figs
But not everyone joined in the frenzy. Those that didn't included the pigs.
In a wood, on a hill; where the grass tickles the sky,
an old mother pig was busy cleaning her sty,
when in through the door, with decree held in hand,
came skidding her smallest son; young Pigling Bland.
“Mother!” he squealed, “have you seen what I’ve got?
It proves those barmy Koozles have all lost the plot!
They’re talking to chickens now in central whazambamdoodle
and the specials in the café reads ‘pork pie’ and not ‘chicken pot noodle’!”
The syrop of figs worked some wonders, the koozles now moved with some speed,
They tested a new way of curing the pork, but the koozles were still weak kneed
In the wood Pigling Bland made a protest, maintaining it wasn’t a cure
To be soaked in salt water and hung from a hook, of this he was certain and sure
But the chickens saw great advantage, and proposed a brand new approach
It meant didgery-deeding the bacon, and a day by the sea in a coach
By taking a bat and a runcible hat, they could play lots of games in the sand
And later that night there’d be dancing, to the whazambamdoodle town band
I shat a Dumpty
Then I climbed a wall
and fell off.
And called to her bore of a husband to put on a hat to be a
Brave pig and go down to the cafe and find out if this could be true.
In the meantime she sat Pigling down and gave him some homework to do.
Now the pig in a hat found the cafe and watched from behind some oak trees.
Before long he saw people leaving, and each one had wobbly knees.
'Aha!' thought the porcine observer, 'It seems they have not cracked it yet.
I think, since I'm already in town, I'll just pop along to the vet.'
To father pig just what had passed;
The wobbly knees were a symptom
Of koozles all getting bad gas.
It rumbled about in their bellies
And finally sank to their toes.
But in most it got stuck in the middle
And gave jelly legs to the host.
And made his way back up the hillside, after just nipping back for his hat.
He reassured Sow - still oink-oinking - that the koozles were onto a looser.
And said, 'After all my exertions, I think I'll go down to the boozer.'
The coach had returned from the seaside as he trotted along to the pub
And koozles - of all shapes and sizes - and chickens, were all wanting grub.
They were anxious to try their new method, and seeing Old Bore trotting by,
A chicken, rapscallion by nature, approached with a glint in his eye.
The others all gathered around for the deeding, the koozles formed up a neat queue
A didgery-deeding needs dancing, and clucking and wailing to boot
For all those who aren't becoming the bacon, it's really a jolly good hoot
A rumble per pumble a rumble per poo, came the raw sound of the didgeridoo
Although Old Bore was in a fearful quake, the raw music made his jelly roll shake
The process is working cried Big Koozle Brain, "come along lads, all join in the refrain "
As Old Bore did an Elvis (became all shook up), Koozle Brain smiled - "soon, there'll be bacon to cook"
(He'd managed to do all his work)
"My poor dad is being kazoodled -
And he also looks kind of a berk.
Stop didgery-deeding!" he yelled at the brain
"Can't you see there will be loads of fuss?
For what will mum do when poor dad's in a stew?
There'll be no-one to look after us!"
(The Grand Koozle-Doozle was weak-kneed, so the Lesser K-D took the chair.)
The town band provided a fanfare and proceedings were soon under way.
'Is there anyone here,' asked the K-D, 'who has anything they want to say?'
Before Old Bore could get his snout open, Rapscallion cluck-clucked from the back
'If it pleases your honourable worship, the koozle diet has gotten off-track.
Too much chicken is making them cowardly; they have quite an aversion to risks.'
'Thank you. Call the next witness!' And to the front strode Caducean Whisks.
For someone to witness in purple was not in the Full Council's creed.
'It's mulberry, I can assure you!' the witness was heard to retort,
'Not purple, so none of your koozling. You will hear what I have to report.
‘The chickens and pigs, they eat the same thing, so why can’t you make that a feast?
Give corn and our wheat to the koozles, and leave out those middling beasts?’
The truckle of cheese asked to join this debate
Since it also objected to life on a plate.
The chickens and pigs and the cheese all concurred,
But deep in their brain cells, some worries a-stirred.
If koozles don’t eat us and pinch all our food,
What will we feed to our extendible brood?
‘The Swine!’ clucked the chickens, ‘Clucking ‘eck,’ oinked the swine, the cheese blew ‘Blue Cheese-us! I wish I weren’t Brie.’
They huddled a while, ‘neath a Jammy Fruit Tree, whose delectable fruits cried, ‘I wish you’d eat me!’
These orbs of pure nectar are designed to be food, they’re nurtured and loved and await in their cribs,
I’d be most uncommonly grateful if you’d help me to spread out my kids.
So the whazambamdoodle full council isued straightway a further decree:
"From henseforth and until further notice all koozles shall dine from that tree."
The fruit was declared quite scrumbumtious and the juice just delightful to drink
And koozles from town and from country all turned a dark mulberry pink!
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