July 3rd, 2025
I’ve recently stumbled upon an incredible new genre of literature. The world of nonsense poetry, from a book titled Poems Of Fun And Fancy. It’s shocking that I didn’t know about any poems of fun and fancy, and my life has been this whole time entirely devoid of poems of fun and fancy, but thank god I’ve got them now. My favorites so have been the Edward Lear and Lewis Carroll poems. Today, my deserving reader, let me share some of these gems with you.
A Letter to Evelyn Baring, by Edward Lear.
A Letter to Evelyn Baring
Thrippsy pillivinx,
Inky tinky pobbleboskle abblesquabs? —
Flosky! beebul trimble flosky! — Okul
scratchabibblebongibo, viddle squibble tog-a-tog,
ferrymoyassity amsky flamsky ramsky damsky
crocklefether squiggs.
Flinkywisty pomm,
Slushypipp
Yep. Literally 100% nonsense and jibberish.
For me, this is straight gas. This is my kind of poetry.
Next we have The Jumblies, also by Edward Lear.
The Jumblies
I
They went to sea in a Sieve, they did,
In a Sieve they went to sea:
In spite of all their friends could say,
On a winter’s morn, on a stormy day,
In a Sieve they went to sea!
And when the Sieve turned round and round,
And every one cried, ‘You’ll all be drowned!’
They called aloud, ‘Our Sieve ain’t big,
But we don’t care a button! we don’t care a fig!
In a Sieve we’ll go to sea!’
Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,
And they went to sea in a Sieve.
II
They sailed in a Sieve, they did,
In a Sieve they sailed so fast,
With only a beautiful pea-green veil
Tied with a riband by way of a sail,
To a small tobacco-pipe mast;
And every one said, who saw them go,
‘O won’t they be soon upset, you know!
For the sky is dark, and the voyage is long,
And happen what may, it’s extremely wrong
In a Sieve to sail so fast!’
Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,
And they went to sea in a Sieve.
III
The water it soon came in, it did,
The water it soon came in;
So to keep them dry, they wrapped their feet
In a pinky paper all folded neat,
And they fastened it down with a pin.
And they passed the night in a crockery-jar,
And each of them said, ‘How wise we are!
Though the sky be dark, and the voyage be long,
Yet we never can think we were rash or wrong,
While round in our Sieve we spin!’
Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,
And they went to sea in a Sieve.
IV
And all night long they sailed away;
And when the sun went down,
They whistled and warbled a moony song
To the echoing sound of a coppery gong,
In the shade of the mountains brown.
‘O Timballo! How happy we are,
When we live in a sieve and a crockery-jar,
And all night long in the moonlight pale,
We sail away with a pea-green sail,
In the shade of the mountains brown!’
Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,
And they went to sea in a Sieve.
V
They sailed to the Western Sea, they did,
To a land all covered with trees,
And they bought an Owl, and a useful Cart,
And a pound of Rice, and a Cranberry Tart,
And a hive of silvery Bees.
And they bought a Pig, and some green Jack-daws,
And a lovely Monkey with lollipop paws,
And forty bottles of Ring-Bo-Ree,
And no end of Stilton Cheese.
Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,
And they went to sea in a Sieve.
VI
And in twenty years they all came back,
In twenty years or more,
And every one said, ‘How tall they’ve grown!
For they’ve been to the Lakes, and the Torrible Zone,
And the hills of the Chankly Bore’;
And they drank their health, and gave them a feast
Of dumplings made of beautiful yeast;
And every one said, ‘If we only live,
We too will go to sea in a Sieve,—
To the hills of the Chankly Bore!’
Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,
And they went to sea in a Sieve.
Jack-daws and lollipop paws? The hills of the Chankly Bore? Come on man. How good is that??
Next time someone is annoying you with some bulls***, try that line: “I don’t care a button! I don’t care a fig!”
(Anybody happen to know what a “Ring-Bo-Ree” is?)
Now, these two alone are enough for you to meditate on today. They will suffice for an introductory foray into Nonsense Poetry. But, if you want to have one more, and I think you can handle it.. Here is The Mad Gardener’s Song, by Lewis Carroll (The Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland guy).
The Mad Gardener’s Song
He thought he saw an Elephant,
That practised on a fife:
He looked again, and found it was
A letter from his wife.
‘At length I realise,’ he said,
‘The bitterness of Life!’
He thought he saw a Buffalo
Upon the chimney-piece:
He looked again, and found it was
His Sister’s Husband’s Niece,
‘Unless you leave this house,’ he said,
‘I’ll send for the Police!’
He thought he saw a Rattlesnake
That questioned him in Greek:
He looked again, and found it was
The Middle of Next Week.
‘The one thing I regret,’ he said,
‘Is that it cannot speak!’
He thought he saw a Banker’s Clerk
Descending from the bus:
He looked again, and found it was
A Hippopotamus:
‘If this should stay to dine,’ he said,
‘There won’t be much for us!’
He thought he saw a Kangaroo
That worked on a coffee-mill:
He looked again, and found it was
A Vegetable-Pill.
‘Were I to swallow this,’ he said,
‘I should be very ill!’
He thought he saw a Coach-and-Four
That stood beside his bed:
He looked again, and found it was
A Bear without a Head.
‘Poor thing,’ he said, ‘poor silly thing!
It’s waiting to be fed!’
He thought he saw an Albatross
That fluttered round the lamp:
He looked again, and found it was
A Penny-Postage-Stamp.
‘You’d best be getting home,’ he said:
‘The nights are very damp!’
He thought he saw a Garden-Door
That opened with a key:
He looked again, and found it was
A Double Rule of Three:
‘And all its mystery,’ he said,
‘Is clear as day to me!’
He thought he saw an Argument
That proved he was the Pope:
He looked again, and found it was
A Bar of Mottled Soap.
‘A fact so dread,’ he faintly said,
‘Extinguishes all hope!’
Imagine looking at a rattlesnake thinking it’s a rattlesnake, and then discovering it’s The Middle of Next Week. Can you imagine that?
I can’t even imagine that.
Now, after all of this, I was of course inspired to write some of my own. I had to try my hand, I was feeling so full of nonsense. Here’s one that was my best I think, and complete and utter gibberish.
Whimsy Bimbsy
Whimsy, bimbsy, hobbledy spock
Piddly, piddly, piddly plock
Warmtuckle, Hoomsbengle, Whammy bam bloo
Splittergist, Candlegrist, Montucky, Moo!
I’ll continue this tomorrow, I think. I have more for you…!