These Masters at deception and false claims,
where veracity is not seen as virtue,
will lose their cool when challenged and shamed.
They can’t be accused of being true blue.
In the Pink Room – for good luck – on the Throne
where the gilded lily flakes, he resides
to read the daily headline news alone –
now redacted to mere gibberish guides.
Swallowing songs
Help the hungry bluebirds sing
Gulping gasps of air
With nothing there but Spring
Time faeries with magic wands
Go backwards to bury treasure
Into the grey matter of my brain
Where poems are locked up like gold
Only later to be discovered
At the end of rainbows
They go
Gurgling grunts
Help the pretty flowers grow
Babbling bluntly my mystical muse
Is easily confused
Pretty smells I do inhale
Dream faeries up my nose
To my brain attach a hose
To drain my poems
To and trow them
Into a field of rainbows
They go
“gobbledygook”
the waters of vegetarianism need not be murky
even living on a commune in Albuquerque
but of some folks i’ve misgivings
of their Thanksgiving giving’s
so ask what the feck is tofurky
Such swings the Muses' wail
to him that laxly trail
and her too, prone to frail
when we are out of jail
with truly turgid tongues
singing sourly sweet songs.
A sense and some music
comedy and tragic
of a form in a flow
dangling on minds as snow
on a smooth sloping roof
it's just gobbledygook.
Where I live....
When I reach the halfpace
I decide which way to go.
Is it up or is it down
should I even know?
If you say to go up
and offer me some tea
then jentacular tastes great
no matter which floor I see.
Don’t be bothered with gobbledygook,
no matter where you land
in my world you are the best
can you understand?
I see you are quite bothered
with rhymes that make you think
Can you see the tittynopes
in the bottom of my drink?
So now that you are here
on my floor where I am.
Take a note of how I look
Ulotrichous is my glam.
In spite of my outrageous good looks
And the stealing of girls hearts, whatta crook
Other qualities I have
Like expelling lots of gas
But that's just a bunch of goggledygook
© Jack Ellison 2015
On the peak of Mount Gobbledygook a man of wisdom sat,
Wondering if this would be the day that someone might stop to chat.
For in his long life he had acquired a mountain of useful knowledge,
Earning several degrees while he was away at Valley Guru College.
He never went to watch the football team or ever drank a beer,
He never dated the guru girls or found a reason to cheer.
By keeping his nose to the grindstone he got what he wanted I suppose,
Degrees filled with useful knowledge not to mention a flattened nose.
After graduation he searched around until he had found the highest peak,
Then he took shelter in a cave and waited for someone with whom to speak.
Surely there would be a line of people seeking out the words he had to say,
Certainly they’d start showing up by tomorrow if they didn’t show up today.
Because the world was filled with people trapped in unhappy states,
And he knew that he could help them because sympathy was one of his traits.
So on the top of Gobbledygook this man of patient wisdom sat,
Waiting for those who’d never come because they have an app for that.
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