Category: nonsense verse

Floored

Pass the putty, Patsy,
don’t keep it to yourself.
We’re prinking Pedro’s parquet
and the putty really helps.

— I prefer to call it filler;
your term is slightly crude.
I’ll gladly pass the filler
but the p—y stays eschewed.

Hark at him, the logomach,
too grand to utter putty!
Just shift yer butt, fat Patsy,
or I’ll get a lot more smutty.


Inspired

I spent the night at Cardew’s
cos the roads were blocked by trees:
Hurricane Tzatziki
brought the country to its knees.

Elmer’s Spicy Chicken
bore the brunt of Nature’s ire:
chicken wings and nuggets
now bedeck the old church spire.

The side of Twemlow’s toolshed
is bespattered with hot sauce
(typical of Twemlow
to gain from Elmer’s loss).

The road to Carbonara
is impassable, they say,
blocked by stricken cedars
that bestrew the sodden way.

I must go back to Cardew’s
once the roads are clear,
to thank them for the shelter
that they offered with good cheer.

I’ll also thank the Lord, of course,
by stopping by the church:
Praise the Lord for hurricanes,
and spicy chicken lunch.


 

Putty galore

Putty, oh putty, I pen these lines
to praise your features many:
you fill my gaping chasms
and save me quite a penny.

Putty always fills the gap
where other fillers fail;
it dries in next to no time
and takes lacquer by the pail.

The world would be a better place
if beldams were like putty,
instead of being fractious,
rebarbative, and slutty.


Family ties

Riding back from Laramie
a thought besmote my head:
what if Grandpa Delmar
should be lying somewhere — dead!

Frantic now with morbid thoughts,
I bade my horse to speed,
I raced all through the ink-black night
upon the family steed.

Imagine how my heart leaped up
and danced like Fred Astaire,
when I heard Grandpa’s cries for help
— he’d fallen off his chair.

How strange the telepathic ties
that bind up families,
though they only seem to work
on the road from Laramie.


 

Mad as a twemlow

Five and twenty twemlows
lined up along the shelves,
beckoning the ludic
to ‘Come and help yourselves!’.

And so the funny-minded come
and take a twemlow each.
“Oh, do I dare to open it?’
(like Prufrock with the peach).

‘I’ll show you mine
if you show me yours!’
— ‘Oh no, you playful catfish!
Let’s not behave like boors!’

‘Although we hold the key to life,
we must keep standards up!
Cos if they drop then we must stop
imbibing from the cup

that fills our souls with laughter
and makes the world a game.
Let’s not forget that madness
is the twemlow’s other name.


The Twemlow cycle

Twemlow’s laser bicycle
has been an online hit;
you can buy it pre-assembled
or build it from a kit.

Not for Twemlow clanking gears
or pedals that rotate;
not for him the oily chain
that tends to irritate.

Twemlow’s novel concept
of velocipedal motion
involves the use of lasers
and a red-hot fiery lotion.

Just apply the lotion
to your nether parts each day,
then let the laser action
whisk you briskly on your way.

No need for frame or saddle,
cos you won’t have time to sit:
you’ll be at your destination
before you’ve thought of it.


 

The good ship

An Adriatic brigantine
is beetling round the coast,
graceful as the moonlight
and silent as a ghost.

Is she bent on brigandage
beneath the bright new moon,
or is she just a bugaboo,
some fleeting Brigadoon?

— No, that’s the good ship Twemlow,
that’s beetling o’er the main,
bringing bent bananas
from Brindisi to Belmain.

And so….brimful of bananas,
the brigantine floats by,
graceful as the moonlight
that fills the midnight sky.