Rhymes of No Consequence

mad

Hey all!!

Okay I’m pretty sure there’s some sort of rule according to which I have to warn you beforehand. Beyond this point is sheer nonsense. Nothing but twitspeak. It’s all a giant lollapalooza! (See? I told you there’s no sense today!) If there was a limerick written about this poem it would read something like this-

Balderdash, Baloney and Bull

Gibberish, Poppycock, they pulled

Lunacy and Twaddle,

They all went a-waddle,

And came back with armfuls of wool!

But Mister Wool happened to mind

This zany gobbledygookie find!

He clapped them in leashes

And called the Polices

When they hit him, he payed in kind!!

Today’s prompt  is a genius spark of madness. Sheer lunacy abounds in an empty head when presented with such freedom. Therefore, I blame NaPoWriMo for all the nuttiness, and I am not accountable for it. To be on the safer side, if you have even a drop of  Icelandic blood in you, I suggest you steer clear. Don’t want anyone screaming bloody murder and stabbing with an icicle. 😮

The plan is something like this. The first column is the original poem SKAGAFJÖRÐUR  by  Gerður Kristný, untranslated, and dare I say, untarnished.

The next column is my ‘translation’  of the poem, what it looks and sounds like ‘translated’ into english. It makes very little sense but it was so much fun. The sheer insanity was fun!!

SKAGAFJÖRÐUR

Ég reyni að vera
alúðleg við börnin
svo þau hirði um leiðið mitt
þegar þar að kemur
mylji köku ofan í grasið
á afmælinu mínu
og fari með ljóðið um
fingruðu kýrnar
þá sjálf orðin gömul og grá

Samt á ég eftir að
þekkja þau aftur 
á himneskri húsalyktinni

alltaf skulu þau ilma eins og Jesúbarnið

© 2007, Gerður Kristný
*ahem* *koff koff*

Scarf of Yellow

Eggs runny, and aloe vera
Elude a leg via Borneo
So, for hire, I’m leaving Mitts,
Beggars par lemur,
My liege Cuckoo! Often in grass
Of my lane, you and me know,
Oh, far I’m jaded from
Fins growing in corners,
Pah! Shelves are one gormless order.

Saint o’ Eggs, after you
Peck your dough; After
a hymnesque ‘scree’ (Who’s I-like-tins??) ,

All taffy schools will pour eggs on Jaegerbombs.

©CM

  16.04.2013

Aaaaand to round off the number to an even three, here’s a rhyme of no consequence at all! ‘Cause, you know, it’s a rhyme of no consequence.

flower

A Rhyme of No Consequence

There was a wood, oh where they stood
The lanes were full of rain
Their stammering like hammering
A caning of the brain

A fist of sand running from hand
Slow stream of sifted dreams,
That was the brand of all the land
The scheming in the theme

Wasn’t to say, to run away
With what the lots forgot
Mumbled and mimed, so over time
The Bots could show some thought

And in the loud clamoring crowd
There’d be a fence of sense
Thus there would birth, though not much worth
No rhymes of consequence.

©CM
16.04.2013

Do let me know of what you think, of any or all of the above!! The next post will be approximately ten minutes after this one! That’s right folks, a double dose of cookies today!! 😀

Nuts,

Cookie ❤

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6 thoughts on “Rhymes of No Consequence

  1. PapaBear says:

    Hahahahah !!!! These were great, Cookie. The first one would almost make a good nursery rhyme with the right images. The rest were just strangely funny. Happy Tuesday !
    Paul

    Like

  2. webshultz says:

    I have made the call dear Cookie…the men in the white coats will be arriving shortly. (One of them will be me in disguise)( I’ll be the one with the braided nasal hair with pony tails falling from each ear.) Nice to smile and our poems smiled me. Good stuff you….Hugs.

    Like

  3. Madsies says:

    Oh dear, The Translated one is Insanely Funny!!!!! LOL!
    Number One is too good! 🙂
    That Feline is sooo cuuute! 😀 ❤
    A Rhyme Of No Consequence, Interesting.

    Like

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