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A Load Of Nonsense.......poems
20 Answers
Post some of your favourites for a very silly Saturday
On The Ning Nang Nong
On the Ning Nang Nong
Where the Cows go Bong!
and the monkeys all say BOO!
There's a Nong Nang Ning
Where the trees go Ping!
And the tea pots jibber jabber joo.
On the Nong Ning Nang
All the mice go Clang
And you just can't catch 'em when they do!
So its Ning Nang Nong
Cows go Bong!
Nong Nang Ning
Trees go ping
Nong Ning Nang
The mice go Clang
What a noisy place to belong
is the Ning Nang Ning Nang Nong!
On The Ning Nang Nong
On the Ning Nang Nong
Where the Cows go Bong!
and the monkeys all say BOO!
There's a Nong Nang Ning
Where the trees go Ping!
And the tea pots jibber jabber joo.
On the Nong Ning Nang
All the mice go Clang
And you just can't catch 'em when they do!
So its Ning Nang Nong
Cows go Bong!
Nong Nang Ning
Trees go ping
Nong Ning Nang
The mice go Clang
What a noisy place to belong
is the Ning Nang Ning Nang Nong!
Answers
1 to 20 of 20
Spider spider on the wall Aint you got no brains at all? Cant you see the walls been plastered Now you're stuck you silly *********
19:23 Sat 07th Jan 2023
The Jabberwocky
Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
“Beware the Jabberwock, my son! 5
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!”
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought— 10
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.
And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood, 15
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back. 20
“And, hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!”
He chortled in his joy.
’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves 25
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
“Beware the Jabberwock, my son! 5
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!”
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought— 10
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.
And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood, 15
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back. 20
“And, hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!”
He chortled in his joy.
’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves 25
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
The Toadstool where the Maklets met,
Was foaming effervescent,
Frothing feral fungal spores,
And globules iridescent.
The droplets on the spooky tree,
Were glowing incandescent,
As though some unseen wizardry,
Was ominously present.
The phosph'rous gleaming lunar light,
Showed Maklets quite encumbered-
Inebriated elfish forms,
Around the yewtree slumbered.
The forests’ strange inhabitants,
Were ‘mongst the weary numbered,
And some enchanted impish shapes,
In circles slowly lumbered.
The previous nights’ activities,
(Which set this scene in motion),
All centred round the Lairds’ birthday,
Which caused a huge commotion-
The climax was when Merlin, wise,
Doled out a special potion,
Made out of malted barley, salted,
And water, (quite a notion!)
The liquid glistening in the cup,
With coaxing provocation,
Lured unsuspecting nimble mouths,
Succumb to this temptation.
A gorgeous, cool, and amber fuel
Fired the imagination,
With tones of peat, and nectar sweet,
The Wizards’ grand creation.
Poured over glacial icy cubes,
It promised to restore-
One from the chills of various ills,
A truly marvellous cure.
But oversup, and you'll end up,
Colliding with the floor
As Merlin said, "It hurts your head,
But leaves you wanting more!"
The Terrible Droodle
The terrible Droodle lives up on a hill
You can't really see him, he sits very still
He's sat still so long he's covered in weeds
And his feet are quite hidden in a marsh full of reeds
He's so big you might think
He is just a huge stone
He doesnt want friends
He lives all alone
If you move rocks and stone
And earwigs appear
Bet they came from the droodle,
They have very big ears
If you slip on a stone that is green slimy and old
The droodle is suffering a very bad cold
If a small mucky burrow you cleverly spot
Its a droodle's nostril just dripping with snot
The Droodle sits watching not moving at all
Growing mossy and grassy, Spring, Summer, and Fall
In the winter he carries on sitting some more
The poor Droodle's life is a terrible bore
Droodles are ancient and not very clever
But Droodles can live forever and ever
The terrible Droodle lives up on a hill
You can't really see him, he sits very still
He's sat still so long he's covered in weeds
And his feet are quite hidden in a marsh full of reeds
He's so big you might think
He is just a huge stone
He doesnt want friends
He lives all alone
If you move rocks and stone
And earwigs appear
Bet they came from the droodle,
They have very big ears
If you slip on a stone that is green slimy and old
The droodle is suffering a very bad cold
If a small mucky burrow you cleverly spot
Its a droodle's nostril just dripping with snot
The Droodle sits watching not moving at all
Growing mossy and grassy, Spring, Summer, and Fall
In the winter he carries on sitting some more
The poor Droodle's life is a terrible bore
Droodles are ancient and not very clever
But Droodles can live forever and ever
What Happened to Helen- a Love Story
Pity the girl called “little Helen”,
Whose head was shaped just like a melon,
So large and oval, (hollow too),
Her classmates called her “Honeydew.”
Her parents, (as a special treat),
Thought it would cheer her up to meet,
Another most unfortunate soul,
Whose name was Rodney Dellingpole.
He too was similarly bestowed,
His cranium was in overload-
And his skull, bulging, and obscene
Looked very like a submarine.
Young Rodder’s head was very wide
And jutted out at either side;
In fact it almost overflowed,
And bore a sign which read “Wide Load.”
Well, Helen, was now mesmerised,
To gaze upon the large, outsized,
Unshapely, strange colossal mass
Of Rodney’s dome, but now, alas,
As she was staring up at him,
His visage changed from bright to grim:-
(You’d be forgiven if you thought,
He would explode with loud report.)
He fixed young Helen with a stare,
That froze her to the bones, a glare,
So fierce, her young legs turned to jelly,
And caused convulsions in her belly.
With bloodshot eyes and quiv’ring jowl,
He spat at her in rasping growl,
“You staring, gaping little rat-
What do you think you’re looking at?”
Young Helen was just terrified,
She tried to run away and hide,
And in this terrifying condition
Found she was frozen in position.
Now as his questing voice was heard,
Something quite magical occurred!
She heard a voice (it was her own),
Respond in clear and lucid tone,
“Rodney, I must frankly mention
Your head was what caught my attention.”
I tell you, I have never once
Seen anything quite like your bonce.”
Feeling inspired, she then expressed,
“Rodney, your head must be the best,
The most impressive mount ’nous bean
This poor old world has ever seen.
When survey-ing your massive pate
I wanted, desperately to state.
You have, (Although I feared extinction)
A cranium of high distinction.
It’s like a mighty dome unfurled,
A wonder of the western world,
In terms of a-esthetic power
It’s up there with the Eiffel Tower.
Your forehead, when you stand up tall
Reminds me of the Taj Mahal
The natural warpage of your scalp
Looks like the outcrop of an Alp
Ayers Rock is nothing to compare
With what rests underneath your hair!
You’re sensitive about this matter,
But I’m the last one who would flatter,
Although my head is huge, it’s null
Compared to your majestic skull:-
So take it from me, without question
When I put forward this suggestion,
You should be glad, you should be proud
That you’re substantially endowed
It makes you special and unique
And makes us lesser mortals seek
Your company, so we can gaze
Upon your Himalayan face.
So Rodney, hold your head up high,
Allow it to caress the sky,
Ignore the insults, taunts and jeers,
And flaunt yourselfto all your peers.
And show the world the special feature
That only Rodney, lucky creature,
Has in such in generous proportions
Augmenting your faci-al contortions
Oh Rodney, you are not a freak,
Of nature, no, you’re cool, unique
You stand out from the crowd apart,
In fact, you’ve touched my pattering heart
I do not wish to condescend
But Rodney, can I be your friend?
It is too much to ask your hand,
In marriage? Dear Rodney, understand
My deepest great appreciation
Of you, the cranial sensation.
Well, after listening to her speech,
Her heartfelt and intense outreach,
Young Dellingpole was moved to tears
And felt a redness round his ears
Feeling embarrassment and exposure
But quickly regained his composure
And got down on his bended knee,
And said please will you marry me?
Your words I know are from the heart
I never wish to be apart
From you, dear Helen, it is true
You’ll always be my Honeydew.
We might both have unusual heads,
But what’s that between newlyweds?!
The pair got married in a week,
(The honeymoon was in Mustique)
And Rod and Helen, full of laughter
Lived long and happily ever after.
Pity the girl called “little Helen”,
Whose head was shaped just like a melon,
So large and oval, (hollow too),
Her classmates called her “Honeydew.”
Her parents, (as a special treat),
Thought it would cheer her up to meet,
Another most unfortunate soul,
Whose name was Rodney Dellingpole.
He too was similarly bestowed,
His cranium was in overload-
And his skull, bulging, and obscene
Looked very like a submarine.
Young Rodder’s head was very wide
And jutted out at either side;
In fact it almost overflowed,
And bore a sign which read “Wide Load.”
Well, Helen, was now mesmerised,
To gaze upon the large, outsized,
Unshapely, strange colossal mass
Of Rodney’s dome, but now, alas,
As she was staring up at him,
His visage changed from bright to grim:-
(You’d be forgiven if you thought,
He would explode with loud report.)
He fixed young Helen with a stare,
That froze her to the bones, a glare,
So fierce, her young legs turned to jelly,
And caused convulsions in her belly.
With bloodshot eyes and quiv’ring jowl,
He spat at her in rasping growl,
“You staring, gaping little rat-
What do you think you’re looking at?”
Young Helen was just terrified,
She tried to run away and hide,
And in this terrifying condition
Found she was frozen in position.
Now as his questing voice was heard,
Something quite magical occurred!
She heard a voice (it was her own),
Respond in clear and lucid tone,
“Rodney, I must frankly mention
Your head was what caught my attention.”
I tell you, I have never once
Seen anything quite like your bonce.”
Feeling inspired, she then expressed,
“Rodney, your head must be the best,
The most impressive mount ’nous bean
This poor old world has ever seen.
When survey-ing your massive pate
I wanted, desperately to state.
You have, (Although I feared extinction)
A cranium of high distinction.
It’s like a mighty dome unfurled,
A wonder of the western world,
In terms of a-esthetic power
It’s up there with the Eiffel Tower.
Your forehead, when you stand up tall
Reminds me of the Taj Mahal
The natural warpage of your scalp
Looks like the outcrop of an Alp
Ayers Rock is nothing to compare
With what rests underneath your hair!
You’re sensitive about this matter,
But I’m the last one who would flatter,
Although my head is huge, it’s null
Compared to your majestic skull:-
So take it from me, without question
When I put forward this suggestion,
You should be glad, you should be proud
That you’re substantially endowed
It makes you special and unique
And makes us lesser mortals seek
Your company, so we can gaze
Upon your Himalayan face.
So Rodney, hold your head up high,
Allow it to caress the sky,
Ignore the insults, taunts and jeers,
And flaunt yourselfto all your peers.
And show the world the special feature
That only Rodney, lucky creature,
Has in such in generous proportions
Augmenting your faci-al contortions
Oh Rodney, you are not a freak,
Of nature, no, you’re cool, unique
You stand out from the crowd apart,
In fact, you’ve touched my pattering heart
I do not wish to condescend
But Rodney, can I be your friend?
It is too much to ask your hand,
In marriage? Dear Rodney, understand
My deepest great appreciation
Of you, the cranial sensation.
Well, after listening to her speech,
Her heartfelt and intense outreach,
Young Dellingpole was moved to tears
And felt a redness round his ears
Feeling embarrassment and exposure
But quickly regained his composure
And got down on his bended knee,
And said please will you marry me?
Your words I know are from the heart
I never wish to be apart
From you, dear Helen, it is true
You’ll always be my Honeydew.
We might both have unusual heads,
But what’s that between newlyweds?!
The pair got married in a week,
(The honeymoon was in Mustique)
And Rod and Helen, full of laughter
Lived long and happily ever after.
The Glilliofop and the dumplings
In the middle of an island where the gum trees grow
All the little dumplings were dancing in a row
Yes, all the little dumplings were dancing in a row.
There came a sudden bellow and the sky came falling down
And they knew the Glilliofop was striding round the town
Yes the knew the Glilliofop was striding round the town
And it goes on for verse upon verse until.....
The Glillifop cared not and just strode out to sea
And it pleased the little dumplings that they weren't fried for tea
And that just shows how daft I was at 12 years old!
In the middle of an island where the gum trees grow
All the little dumplings were dancing in a row
Yes, all the little dumplings were dancing in a row.
There came a sudden bellow and the sky came falling down
And they knew the Glilliofop was striding round the town
Yes the knew the Glilliofop was striding round the town
And it goes on for verse upon verse until.....
The Glillifop cared not and just strode out to sea
And it pleased the little dumplings that they weren't fried for tea
And that just shows how daft I was at 12 years old!
Slinky inky words like that
Describe the silent Midnight cat
Like lots of cats he’s mostly black
With strange white patterns on his back
He creeps around all through the night
From moon rise to the dawn’s first light
Hunting night rats and twilight moles
Looking for them in their holes
His soft purr sends them to sleep
As through the night he’ll slowly creep
The midnight cat has velvet paws
That open windows and closed doors
His eyes miss nothing in the night
They shine with their own magic light
The midnight cat will pop his head
Round your door when you’re in bed
To be sure there are no mice and rats
Spiders, bugs, or elephats
The midnight cat sends them all away
Never ever lets them stay
And those white patterns shine like stars
As bright as lights from human cars
On rooftop blending with the sky
He guards the night that passes by
The midnight cat sleeps in the day
When our bad dreams have gone away
He can’t meow, he’ll never growl
When he is on his midnight prowl
He’s slinky Inky more than that
He’s the Silent Midnight cat
Describe the silent Midnight cat
Like lots of cats he’s mostly black
With strange white patterns on his back
He creeps around all through the night
From moon rise to the dawn’s first light
Hunting night rats and twilight moles
Looking for them in their holes
His soft purr sends them to sleep
As through the night he’ll slowly creep
The midnight cat has velvet paws
That open windows and closed doors
His eyes miss nothing in the night
They shine with their own magic light
The midnight cat will pop his head
Round your door when you’re in bed
To be sure there are no mice and rats
Spiders, bugs, or elephats
The midnight cat sends them all away
Never ever lets them stay
And those white patterns shine like stars
As bright as lights from human cars
On rooftop blending with the sky
He guards the night that passes by
The midnight cat sleeps in the day
When our bad dreams have gone away
He can’t meow, he’ll never growl
When he is on his midnight prowl
He’s slinky Inky more than that
He’s the Silent Midnight cat
Spike Milligan again......
In the land of the Bumbley Boo
The People are red white and blue,
They never blow noses,
Or ever wear closes,
What a sensible thing to do!
In the land of the Bumbley Boo
You can buy Lemon pie at the zoo;
They give away foxes
In little Pink Boxes
And Bottles of Dandylion Stew.
In the land of the Bumbley Boo
You never see a Gnu,
But thousands of cats
Wearing trousers and hats
Made of Pumpkins and Pelican Glue!
Oh, the Bumbley Boo! the Bumbley Boo!
That's the place for me and you!
So hurry! Let's run!
The train leaves at one!
For the land of the Bumbley Boo!
The wonderful Bumbley Boo-Boo-Boo
The Wonderful Bumbley Boo!!
In the land of the Bumbley Boo
The People are red white and blue,
They never blow noses,
Or ever wear closes,
What a sensible thing to do!
In the land of the Bumbley Boo
You can buy Lemon pie at the zoo;
They give away foxes
In little Pink Boxes
And Bottles of Dandylion Stew.
In the land of the Bumbley Boo
You never see a Gnu,
But thousands of cats
Wearing trousers and hats
Made of Pumpkins and Pelican Glue!
Oh, the Bumbley Boo! the Bumbley Boo!
That's the place for me and you!
So hurry! Let's run!
The train leaves at one!
For the land of the Bumbley Boo!
The wonderful Bumbley Boo-Boo-Boo
The Wonderful Bumbley Boo!!
This isn't a nonsense poem, it is guidance for life and an explanation of how we became who we are
This Be The Verse by Philip Larkin
They kcuf you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.
But they were kcufed up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another’s throats.
Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don’t have any kids yourself.
This Be The Verse by Philip Larkin
They kcuf you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.
But they were kcufed up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another’s throats.
Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don’t have any kids yourself.
Must admit that "nonsense" poetry and rhymes, although amusing read once, never held me rapt. Amusing dialogue however did. I remember hearing this as a 10/11 year old and laughing like a drain. My father was a brickie and even at that young age I had accompanied him onto site for sweeping/tidying up duties. This is an excerpt from an address made to the Oxford union in 1958 by the German born Gerrard Hoffnung. Even now if I can see an accident in the making I say "going up I met the barrel coming down".
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