Best Nonsense Poems


There Is No Telling the Things You Might Find

Picking a rose in a garden of Sundays
Calling your name on a broken branch wind
Looking for clover where weeds are not welcome
Walking the bridge till its time to begin
 
Dancing in puddles now filled up with laughter
Running through traffic as cars speed away
Searching for words in the headlines of morning
Writing of moons and the stars on display
 
Collecting my thoughts when I think I will never
Painting a smile on a rusted front door
Lifting a rock just to see what is under
Shopping for clothes in a grocery store
 
Looking through openings cut in the carpet
Reaching atop lonely sycamore trees
Juggling penguins, now where did that come from
Asking a bird what it knows about bees
 
Planting a bush in the depths of the ocean
Baking a cake in a rooftop design
Sweating the small when the big stuff does happen
Thinking of beer when I’d rather have wine
 
Wearing a frown in the moments I’m happy
Pushing a cart with a wobbly wheel
Lurking in shadows that form on the sunset
Dreaming of things that are hopefully real
 
Finding that all I have written is nonsense
All of the verses above will now show
When all I wanted to say was I love you
Like in these stanzas I’ve written below
 
Penning a poem to say what I’m feeling
Wishing the phrases will reach to your heart
Sending you hints of my steadfast devotion
Scribbling fonts that we never shall part
 
All that I am is now all that you make me
There is no one that this man could love more
You are the girl that I’ve wanted forever
Eternally you’ll be the one I adore
 
So there you have it, quite crazy but true
Poetic ramblings from deep in my mind
Where it is light with some dark in the corners
There is no telling the things you might find

11/03/19

The reason I think this poem is Trophy Worthy is it is one of my favorite poems, because it is me. A good amount of fun and nonsense and a lot of beautiful love which is what fuels my pen. I believe my cadence and rhymes are very good and it was a fun poem to write. I think those who read it really enjoyed it because it made them smile and that is usually my goal when writing poetry.
Form: Rhyme

Trim Trimmer Chicken Dinner Winner

I don’t know tic tac toe
so I rhyme this with flow,
showing Nick Nac knows 
how to serve the perfect dose.

Measuring the rhymes
like I’m pleasuring the lines,
leisure for the minds
like I’m lemon and I’m lime,

1st and 2nd personalities 
pushed to share realities, 
combining combat and comebacks 
as I incompetently rap,

you’re ripping me now 
it’s a banter attack,
shyt but gripping somehow
as I pant and sound crap.

It’s another chicken dinner 
from Mr Trim Trimmer, 
not a rapper or a singer
but, a mother loving winner.

POTD 02/02/2019
© Nick Trim  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Hey Ho Does An Octopus Know POTD

hey ho
does an octopus know
how to juggle with eight cups and saucers
and the fish watching him
while the elephants swim
then he juggles with a turtle and tortoise

then ho hey
does the octopus say
I can do this all day round in circles
but an ache in my arm 
in my arm, in my arm 
and so on through all eight tentacles

so hey ho
let the octopus go
to bed nice and early with honey
to rest and recline
for a considerable time
so he doesn’t feel worn out and funny

ho hey
and a new octopus day
refreshed and all ready to juggle
so with cups and with saucers
a turtle and tortoise
but the elephant’s splash makes him struggle

hey hey
that’s not fair that’s not fair
so the octopus went somewhere quieter
where he practised a lot
and a lot more than not
and so now he’s a pro entertainer


Hogwash

Twas a fine October morning,
one September, last July!
The moon lay thick upon the ground,
the mud shone in the sky!

The flowers sang so sweetly,
the birds were in full bloom!
As I hurried down the cellar steps,
to sweep the upstairs room!

The time was Tuesday morning,
on Wednesday, just at night!
I saw ten-thousand miles away,
a house, just out of sight!

Its doors projected backwards.
The front was at the back!
It stood alone, between two more,
and it was whitewashed black!



Amen
I didn't write this, author unknown!
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member My Long Walk Home

T'was freezing cold and I struggled in the heat
I was pleased I'd put warm gloves on my feet
I shouldn't have been out on such a cold night
High in the sky was the sun and shining so bright. 

Not far to walk home now just fifty odd miles
Minutes later I'd be home, my face full of smiles
My brother was with me and she felt the cold too
Shouldn't have worn shorts, her hands had turned blue.

Went into an ice cream parlour for some yummy ice cream 
It was served piping hot and gave off clouds of steam
I fancied some cold soup and it was served up on a plate
And I used two left handed chopsticks, it tasted great. 

Then my cell phone rang but the battery was flat
It was my wife who wanted me to buy her a cat
She said don't tell me which one, I want a surprise
But get one with four legs, a tail and green eyes.

Called to the pet shop and asked nicely for a pet
The man said sorry we've no live ones in yet
I've got two stuffed dead dogs or a puffa fish 
If you don't want it as a pet it will make a tasty dish. 

I got out my credit card and paid him with cash 
He said don't handle the fish it will give you a rash 
Me and my bro left the shop and went off on our way 
I was so worn out, it had been an eventful day. 



Written on 8th September 2021

For The Nonsense Rhyme Poetry Contest, 

Sponsored By Charles Messini.
Form: Rhyme

The Lonely Plobawobby

In a pond beside a meadow
Where the slime and algae gurgle
Dwells a lonely Plobawobby
Lurking deep in murky waters.
There in sludgy weedication
All day long alone he shroudles
While the crested newts and leeches
Dragonflies and slimy slaters,
Wigglies, damselflies and skaters
Cresticate the water's riches.
But at night when all is silent
And no living thing is stirring
You may glimpse a Plobawobby
Slowly rise up to the surface
And upon a waterlily
Contemplate the sylphry moon.


27.03.20

Inky Dinky Parlay Voo Poetry Contest - sponsored by Caren Krutsinger N/A
(1 original, poem on the theme of anything you want but you have to make up some silly words and throw them in without explanation of what they mean)


Premium Member My Weakness

GOD

Wondrous of many blessings.
Smiling never a frown.
My prayers, Lord, are  suddenly being ignored.
I've taken a tumble of  fallen down
Lord, my life was plain and simple  
How did it come to this?
Lord, now I carry a  burden so deep
A torn up life not easy to fix
Hard to get my prayers before I sleep
Bleeding only internally!
Feeling very minutely!
God, have you deserted me or is it me who deserted you?

God, my Lord, my savior, how could you abandon me?
Must I drown in my own sorrow?
Must I wake up like this today and tomorrow.
Why have you left me, or is it me who left you?

God, I need you like never before.
When I wake up,
When I head out the door.
Tormented in a mood ring of stock
Heavily my tears hit the floor.
God, do you not feel me, or is it me who no longer feel you?

God, what is your plan for me?
What things did I not see?
I asked for you to forgive me in my ways of sin.
Why do you let him provoke me?
Lord, I forbid for him to win.
Relieve me from his gutless pain.
God, do you not believe me, or is it me who no longer believe in you?

God, do you not hear my call
My pitiful excuses make me weak and small
In your eyes, I no longer feel tall
I remain cursed in every single fall
Lord, only you can break this wall
Do you not see me on my knees
Must I beg and crawl?
I am at your mercy, crying out with grief
Open the path to the lighted hall
O' Lord, the day you judge me before your throne
Please tell me it was a lesson for me to stand up on my own
God for now I will end this talk
With the dignity to never look back
I ask if you were there on my endless journey of a relentless walk?

By:PD

Premium Member A Fine Flavor Between Lines

Is it Love
a simple bowl of ice cream
sweating from the heat
cherries on the top
huddled 'round and looking sweet
two little wooden paddles
pretend that they are spoons
as we sit beneath the stars
in the savor of the moon
your lips are all I see
as they caress them with a passion 
the cherries on your tongue
in a delightful playful fashion 
with our eyes intent and focused
in a stare of solemn trust
Is this ice cream truly love
or is it merely cherry lust
Form: Rhyme

Me Myself and I

Me myself and I
were talking to myselve's
when we asked us a question
and they were not themselves.

They themselves and them
now questioning themselves
said we were not like them
and had to be yourselves.

You yourselve's and you
now separate from myselve's
meant you could not be me
and we could be ourselves.
Form: Quatrain

'pardon Me, Could You Pass the Grey Poupon'

Winds caressing fringes of
   her deep chocolate tresses
as tree nymphs nimbly hid
  midst fallen maple leaves 
    happily prancing round toes,
whilst a crescendo of chimes
   played off in near distances,
warm apple pie aroma wafting
 upon a zephyr tickling her nose,
unfastened her reddish cloak 
  for her e'er plunging neckline
exposed an ample décolletage
 voluptuously heaving in broad
 daylight waiting to seduce a crafty
wolf in sheep's clothing she had afore
  encountered on the way to grannies, 
called ahead to make reservations
for her & handsome knighted chef
hiding amidst the dark forest with
his trusty sharpened butcher knife,
had acquired Wolfgang Puck's
   wickedly-satisfying secret recipe
        for savory pack-of-wolves stew 


Li'l Reddish Revenge is a dish best served cold-blooded with liberal
scads of punitive napkins and a bottle of vindictively chilled Chianti
© Paloma P   Create an image from this poem.
Form: Epic

The Hedgehog

A hedgehog sat upon a log
And ate a purple fig.
Soon, all that he had left of it
Was half a purple twig.

Next morning, he arose anew;
Declared that he felt fine.
Except for one development,
He now had purple spines!


1st Place in “Animal Nonsense” Contest
Sponsored by Kevin Shaw
© Dean Wood  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Tree Troll Twister

A three-toed tree troll
tried to trap a leaping leprechaun
with a black claw bear paw trap.
But he stubbed toe three in the trap in the tree,
Snip snap toe three was gone.

The two-toed tree troll
tried to trap a laughing leprechaun
with a black claw bear paw trap.
But soon he'd forget where the trap had been set,
Snip snap toe two was gone.

The one-toed tree troll
tried to trap a sleepy leprechaun
with a black claw bear paw trap.
“Go to bed,” he said, “while you still have your head,”
Snip snap now all are gone.


Submitted January 2020 for the "Twist My Tongue" contest sponsored by Nina Parmenter -- First Place
© Eric Cohen  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Escaping Humanity

Feeling the desolation, of smothering air
Hemmed in by crowds; the obliqueness of fear
Throng of the city and no sight of the sun
Incessant noise and the desire to just run.
And I drive.

Arterial routes clogged by metal and wheels  
Schizophrenic drivers living others ideals
Neon and lights sizzling the sides of the streets
Marketing signage, greed’s consumer receipts.
And I drive.

White picket fences, roses, and manicured lawns
Ridiculous box housing, erected for ludicrous pawns
Playgrounds, big supermarkets, cafes and parks
Sprawling suburbia with its pools built by sharks.
And I drive

Warehouses dispensing the needs of the hordes
Industrious factories like cash castles of lords.
Sawmills busily feeding more desecration of land
Refuse collection sites completely sterile and bland.
And I drive.

Ten-acre barons on frivolous bundles of dirt
Escaping urbanity in the unproductive outskirts.
Postage stamp fields supporting ponies and kids
While toffee nose parents sit in ultra posh digs.
And I drive

Paddocks of cattle dispersed through productive farmland
Shiny new tractors with men toughened and tanned
Marshmallow hay bales pimple the face of the ground
Irrigators urinate on earth until drowned.
And I drive.

Magnificent mountains covered in beckoning trees
Clear running streams and whispering breeze
Wild flowers gently waving as robins flit all around
Radiant true colours and smoothing calm sounds.
And yes I am home.
Form: Rhyme

To Stupid To Care

I've dropped my pen, calamity,
I write too much profanity,
it makes people act angrily,
yet I walk around quite happily.

I'm aware I speak like I don't care,
and I reek of rudeness when I share,
but I don't get offended to be fair,
not up here on my high chair.

Naturally I've no remorse,
that means I don't care of course,
but I'm a gent I'll hold the door,
just for me not you and yours.

You read from a rebel without a cause, 
whom finds it fun to wined up fools.
Though I don't hunt them down like jaws,
it's done through words I write with my paws.

With direct rhymes that are unambiguous,
also aimless and thus promiscuous,
this contradiction is a tad ridiculous,
have you worked out yet how I'm ingenious?

I told you at the beginning that I care not,
the lines since caused that to be forgot.
Are you yet to realise the plot?
Now it ends, yep, that's your lot.
© Nick Trim  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

4 30 Am When Sheep Leap and Lay In a Heap

It's 4:30am and I can't sleep,
the sheep leap and lay in a heap,
told me they're tired and got shut eye,
even my own mind has shunned I,
lets just freestyle this rhyme and see where it goes,
it beats laying in the dark watching that ghost,
across the room that never comes close,
my mind protects itself from some images,
probably awake cus my dreams have edges,
nothing on the tele but Teleshopping,
trying to sell pots pans and mops but I'm channel hopping,
maybe I should count that instead of sheep to drop off,
it's dark and rainy outside and there's strange noises up in the loft,
I don't really care though as long as they stay there,
if it's burglars it's funny cus they'll hide til all clear here,
and what weirdo would brake into and burgle the attic first,
a junkie on crack thinking he's superman singing Fred Durst,
Limp Bizkit I want a biscuit in a whiskey, 
I'm tired now I've bored myself, I expect I'll sleep in a minute, 
this poems over matey, find something else.
© Nick Trim  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

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