Tag Archives: nonsense

the chnott and the sarborant

A chnott lay in the shearthenware upon the riverbed,
Eating up the fugebrumbs, and probing for his stead.

When upon a sarborant, he happened just to spy
Watchecating silver specks, and not yet gone to die.

“Halloo!” He called with all galand (his kindly voice did squee)
The sarborant just nodded once, with crubbled industry.

“What do you say, dear friendly ‘rant, what misharcheaks have you?”
-Our chnott is nice beyond rebuke, mountanic in his hue-

To which, the sarborant responded, watchecating still
“Inhavictius embergathes and logus emberspill.”

And with that wisdom simply spoke, the sarborant evailed
Leaving sprity slyler specks upon the ground regaled.

A dark night crept in latternish, the riverbed so small
The chnott galand with fugebrumbs, silver specks and all.

NaPoWriMo 2013 Day 16

Venting

An empty calzone-it’s ingredient free-
and one and one is apparently three.
The tap water washes the soot all away,
forgetting that kittens can continue to play.

Roots spread out sideways instead of down
and warblers and magpies,they don’t make a sound.
No cheeps, or wee-zee-zees, or wenk-wenk-wenks either.
No noises from outside, we all take a breather.

Now, the yeast in dough mix is bubbling to rise,
and a circumspect pumpkin hides out in the skies.
Wearing a mask and velveteen cape,
its serpentine movements provide an escape.

While the red sauce is rolling, doubled and boiled,
with smoked mozzarella-its well-olive oiled.
The calzone sits there empty, ready to eat,
soaking up smells from the painted concrete.

Some things are

All for naught, he sometimes thought,
those very words that kept escaping

From his sight towards the light,
leaving him, all once, forsaken.

Empty minds with nothing – kind
as like a flighty pigeon taken.

Count obsession, three of seven
those whose thoughts that are not shaken.

Sliced as such, but not too much,
when they only just awakened.

Cupboard’s bare with little spare,
save pumpkin bread and crispy bacon.