Monkey Nonsense


See the monkey’s poetry book? Here are some extracts. If you would like to add some more, please send your contributions. They can only be an improvement.


Ode to a Warm Little Pond

I sat and gazed into a pond,

In whimsical and vacant mind.

Methought I saw a chemi-bond.

Organo-molecules combined!

On Saturn’s finest Titan moon,

At Timbucktoo in Africkee,

Where ‘ere my whimsies lead me on

So many little ponds I see!

Pond in ferment, lightning striking,

Organic molecules are combining.

Oh! These things I am not liking!

When, lo! before my widened eyes,

Ten slimy ninja turtles rise!

And now — who says there’s no surprises?

Dread Frankenstein, himself, arises!

Ode to My Love

When turn mens’ thoughts to things other

Than dust, and grind, and working,

They’ll sometimes own that they’re rather

Inclined towards romancing.

My love is such a red, red rose:

A real crimson beauty:

A symphony of light and love,

Even excells the footy!

A creature who makes Heaven seem close,

A ‘special-built creation,

Best likened to a red, red rose,

Her praise would fill an ocean.

And now for those who theorise

On nature’s own selection:

A shock — don’t name it otherwise —

I tell you, it’s not fiction!

Horticulturalist or not can see

‘Twill cause a revolution:

My love’s a sweetest chim pansy,

Center of my devotion!

For the musically minded:

Move over Mr. Claus: Something New is Coming to Town, or A Note on String Theory which is the visualisation of matter as short pieces or loops of ‘string’. The ‘strings’ travel, vibrate and rotate. Subatomic particles can be thought of as vibrations of the ‘string’, in the same way musical strings produce different notes.

Scroll on to find words and two options for the refrain — add your own. So music on folks and let’s join Dancer and Prancer in hot-footting something new all over town!




Is something like string



Something new is coming to town.

Let’s all sing,

Let’s all shout

Something’s new,

There’s no doubt

String theory is coming to town.



The experts are bamboozled,

It’s really got them beat,

Why the worlds are set to music,

Can’t you feel it in your feet?


Forget your quarks and photons,

Ignore your gravitons.

The simplest explanation is,

The atoms dance to songs.


When washing up the dishes,

Or scrubbing on the floor,

Recall your fav’rite pop-star,

No, it won’t be a chore!


There’s a cosmic celebration,

A trumpet in the wind,

A thousand harpers harping,

There’s drums and violins.


A dozen different theories,

The atom can’t explain.

The universe is music.

Can you hear the great refrain?


The endless void of space now

Is empty void no more.

The scientists assure us

There are strings out there galore!


Students in examination,

Atomic theory can’t repeat?

Tell the examiner it’s a jazz-band.

Can’t you hear the cosmic beat?


A million times a million,

In perfect symphony.

The scientists at last arrived.

They call it ‘string theory’.



I’m a Ring-Tailed Possum

Humanity’s advancing!
We’re heading for the stars!
‘Cause nature’s self-selecting.
We all should shout hurrahs!

Knowledge and truth together
Evolve to meet the times.
We’re changing for the better,
We’re free from old confines.

It’s sheer exhilaration,
A heady draught to quaff,
Have done with hesitation;
Mankind will pull it off!

The way we’re rearing children
Has got to be o.k..
We thought it up last weekend,
New Man can show the way!

The general consensus
(Of those who yell and shout),
Infallibly informs us
What’s gospel hereabout.

So there’s nary any problem,
Interfering to the hilt.
Tax, tape, and litigation,
Entangle men like silt.

‘Cause we’re on a climbing pathway,
Karl Marx helped map it out,
Utopian equality,
Will soon be ours, no doubt.

Advanced, correct, and equal.
— The truth’s advancing, too —
And I’m a ring-tailed ‘possum,
Escaped from London Zoo.


















Rabbit Rhyme

I’d like to be a bunny,
A’ hopping in the grass.
Forgive this mild calumny —
‘Tis thus the time I’d pass.

I’d sniff the dandelions,
I’d rumble ‘mongst the weeds,
Resulting perturbations
Would scatter all the seeds.

I’d burrow through to China,
Then nip a marigold.
So when I’m not a miner
I’ll be a gardener bold.

I’d leap o’er weedy patches
And somersaults do three;
I’d open all the latches
To lettuce patch entry.

A bane I’d be to farmers,
Who turn the loam so deep;
They’d come out in pyjamas,
Bemoaning loss of sleep.

I’d scuffle ‘mongst the berries,
And gnaw on tubers stout,
And ignore silly queries,
Like “what’s this all about?”

For bunnies will be bunnies —
‘Though roaming meadows wide,
The cotton tail alumni’s
In burrows will reside.



On Saturn’s Finest Titan Moon

On Saturn’s finest Titan moon,
(See Iapetus and Hyperion
Keep silent vigil, further on),
As sure as I’m no picaroon,
I saw a public telephone.

On Saturn’s famous Titan moon
– Home planet to a public ‘phone –
See gathered there a large platoon,
Queueing oustide the enclosing room,
Of Bell’s brainchild with dial tone.

I went there but yesternoon –
By Saturn Rocket – it went boom!
So what I say is fully true, ‘n’
Hath no fiction. Who’ll presume
There’s aught but fact here written down?

So, why, on Saturn’s foresaid moon,
Speak not of far Hyperion!
Oh, tell us, tell us, very soon
– From curiosity who’s immune?-
Do ‘phone box queuers carry on?

Saturn’s most illustrious moon,
With forethought one would full assume,
Associates, from time long gone,
With Saturn. Right? – as, Saskatoon
Speaks Canada. This is well known.

Something of Saturn – Rhea, Hyperion,
Dione, Helene, Calypso – moons –
Aside – rudely bespeaks a tune;
If you read it thus: no croon,
Not sounding trumpet nor bassoon;
(Some may demur): nor cry of loon.

On Saturn’s finest tour mushroom,
That’s why the crowds hot dogs consume
Around the public telephone.
The rings are clear; and, as a boon,
Are free, from midnight through to noon.

To be a pedant – not poltroon
I see we haven’t employed, zoom!
Nor dune, nor spoon, nor pantaloon!
Alack, alas, I am undone,
For stanzas more make up your own!