Search This Blog

Friday, September 18, 2020

Runcibl'd Stiltskin: A Spooner Selfie

Which nonsense dispenser gives  
good as it gets...?
PlaysWellWithLetters.
     (Then who's least offensive
to lovers of pets…?
LaysWellWithPetters...?)
     Moral:
Carroll 'n' Lear...? 
They've little to fear:
both be biting. 
(Their barks, too: superior, dear.)

"A Chocolate-Coated Crocodile"
by Uly Poe

Runcibl'd Spooner: Three of a Kind

"A Babysitting Bureaucrat"
by Uly Poe






Athos and Porthos -- 
and Aramis, too:
The Three Musketeers.
     Rejoice in teeth triplex...? 
Some Islamists do: 
The Three-tusk Emirs.
     Moral:
One for Allah 'n' Allah for one!

Thursday, September 17, 2020

Runcibl'd Spooner: 'Twas brilligISH

"An Appaloosan Acrobat"
by Uly Poe



Rev’s wretched ravens -- 
so skinny, so spare:
all mimsy were 
the borogoves.
     Whose frock did Herr Doktor 
von Bimmelsdorf wear…?
Ol’ Bimms, he wore 
the Moor o’ Gove’s.
     Moral:
Don’t f**k with flocks 
of Jabberwocks
nor mock the frocks 
of Nazi docs.







     (A heartfelt PWWL thankyou to friend of the blog S****H******
for making the alphabet image files available for use on this website.)

Sunday, September 13, 2020

Antic Anagranimals: the Axolotl

Lox to Al. Smoked 

salmon on a 

bagel, mail'd to 

Aloysius.

     Ax tool L…? Get 

rid of gadget 

twelve! Fresh gear for 

all militias!


Lot-A-Lox. Brand 

new on shelves: ten 

pounds of Nova. 

(Me...? I love it.)

     All too X…? We

don’t know what it 

is, but there’s a 

shitload of it.


To all, XO. 

close with love and 

kisses. P. S.: 

best to Don.

     Loo talx…? Just the 

stuff lads say, fools’

wisecracks crack’d while 

in the john.


Lola…? Tox! Don’t 

date Dolores – 

she of the con-

tagious lips!  

     Loot LAX! Let’s rob an 

airport. (When…? On 

one of our next 

west-coast trips.)


LX…? O,’ a 

lot. In Roma, 

sixty-some of 

something’s much.

     Axolotl…? 

Salamander 

boasting skin you 

love to touch.


Tax Lolo…? Let O-

bama’s stepdad 

shirk his “duty”…? 

Ain’t no way!

     So 

goes a list of 

anagrams from 

L, T, O, L, 

O, X, A.

Saturday, September 12, 2020

Runcibl'd Spooner: iGod

Some folk to old-school networks head for news;
some to the cable.
One day, this wee babe shall be King of Jews.
Come to the stable!

     Moral:
A pearl -- no jive! -- of greatest price is
streaming -- live! -- on all devices.

Friday, September 11, 2020

Runcibl'd Spooner: Booboopedoo!

Chicken noodle,
cream of mushroom,
bean: a bowl of soup.
Neoteny, foun-
dation-free: I’ve
seen the soul of Boop.

     Moral:
Who'll bet me forty – fifty! – quid:
young Betty was a Campbell Kid...?

Thursday, September 10, 2020

Limerick Lagniappe or Rhymes Run Riot

There was an old deadbeat from Meath

holding on by the skin of his teeth.

Once those teeth shed their skins

(a) he moved on, towards his shins

(b) he dry shaved all his chins

(c) he sought crowns (Sergey Brin’s...?) 

(d) he whined, “That won’t score wins!”

(e) he scour’d bargain-book bins

(f) he bark’d, “Yangs…? Nada! Yins!"

(g) he’d wet naps tack'd with pins

(h) he’d yell, “Room...? None at inns!”

(i) he gave gums sev’ral spins

(j) he’d rub lamps, rousing djinns

(k) he plied Anais Nin’s

(l) he bought placque – Howard Zinn’s –

(m) he donn'd dentures -- Ed Wynn’s

(n) he’d sigh, “Fresh out of ins…”

(o) he cried, “Had I but fins…”

(p) he’d pour two double gins

(q) he phoned Anthony Quinn’s

(r) he bought false ones – for grins

(s) he employ'd Rin-tin-tin's

(t) he got gout (for his sins)

(u) he'd rent Loretta Lynn's

(v) he'd indulge in Wheat Thins

(w) he'd instruct, "Damp the dins!"

(x) he'd try your next of kin's

(y) he'd collect sardine tins

(z) he consulted with twins

(y) he exhumed Freddie Prinze

(x) he equipp'd the Ashvins

(w) he book'd passage for Linz

(v) he restrung violins

(u) he remark'd, "Thus begins..."

(t) he'd tan elephant skins

(s) he cheer'd might-have-beens

(r) he'd plant chinquapins

(q) he'd raze walls (Berlin's...?)

(p) he'd ____ Ho Chi Minh's 

(o) 


then, indeed, died -- said deadbeat from Meath.

Tuesday, September 8, 2020

Where's Walrus...? Letter L (A Study in Self-Reference)

     Blogger Poe adores self-reference (who doesn't?!) but 

wonders: if a text that uses every letter of the alphabet

is called a pangram and if a pangram that uses every 

letter except one is called a pangrammatic lipogram, 

then what is pangrammatic lipogram that uses every 

letter except two called?* 


The Walrus and the Lipogram,

In DXV** BC,

Were quick to end their self-ref wend.

Goes Wal, “Don't ya’ll agree

We must disperse...?” (He’d suss'd: his verse

Contain'd no J or Z.***)


     * Names suggested thus far include 'pangrammatic 

bi-pogram,' 'pangrammatic di-pogram' and 'pangrammatic 

twi-pogram.' PlaysWell has yet to indicate a preference.

     ** Read as either "five fifteen" or "dee-ex-vee."

PlaysWell is pleased and proud to recommend either 

and/or both.

     *** Strictly speaking, of course, the verse does contain

both letters, since the last line, in which they appear,

is a part of the verse. Self-reference can prove slippery. 

Monday, September 7, 2020

QAnonsense

      All are local. 
                     -- QTip O'Neill, politician
     Some are loco.
                     -- Qlysses Poe, poetaster 


Politics…? Jeux déjà vu,

revisiting my lawn, your loo,

as one e. g., consider Q:

'tis always spotted someplace new.

     Mattel, with boist'rous ballyhoo,

brings forth, for GOP review,

a polypoppet (Bouffant...? Blue!):

hot alt-right moll/doll, Barbie Q.

     “Oklahoma!”…?  Right on cue,

a new production. (Overdue!)

Act I: who sings, “Oh, what a beau-…”…?

'Tis far-right ranch hand Curly Q.

     Some crave a culinary coup,

a white-supremacist-type stew

deserving of the Cordon Bleu.

Viet Nam boasts this broth: Phở Q.

     Politics…? Just déjà vu.

Once more, the porch. (The bedroom, too.)

Do voters need a talking to...?

Yep! One example...? Take (Plee-eeze!) Q!

Litany Chanted Over Schrödinger's Box

Is he dead yet...? 'Yes' or 'No'...?  All'd 'God Bless!' if 'Yes,' you know.  Is he dead yet...? Don...