So with that in mind I have created a nonsense Island called 'Honey' that is situated just off the coast---I won't say what coast as it could be any. All I'll say is it s inhabited by odd things and odd people;sometimes socio political, other times just plain odd.
But then what else would you expect from me. So without further ado, here's my first Nonsense poem titled:
The Wild
Imaginings of Optimus Bean-
By Karl Dixon:
Salvador lived on an Island called Honey
In a round little house that cost him no money
Everything on this Island was free;
From red and white wine to biscuits and brie
And ‘cause no one charged for what they had made
No one did argue ‘bout what they were paid.
There was no gossip, or need for the press
And as a result, no one suffered from stress
For centuries it had been this way
And that’s how the islanders wished it to stay.
But then came a problem none could have for seen
In the guise of a man called, Optimus Bean.
Famous for making the lands’ largest bed
He went very odd from a bump to the head
While out on a day that was windy and cold
A perfect round brick went and knocked him out cold
Everyone rushed to see what to do
But Optimus rose in a second or two.
His eyes were all misty, his expression was blank;
Then he started to yell of a thing called a ‘bank’
He jumped up and shouted ‘ACOUNTS FOR YOU ALL’;
For the young and for old, the fat and the tall
Everyone looked with confusion unbound
While Optimus climbed to the top of a mound
He talked about savings and large spending sprees
But kept very quiet about charges and fees
The people did murmur and all felt uneasy;
About this new Eden that made them feel queasy
But Optimus’s hands were a blur and a dash
As he ranted and raved of a new thing called ‘Cash’
He pulled out a pen and a small piece of paper
And showed them how to buy now and pay later
And how with the money that they were to earn
They could then all go out, and set up a firm
And if there were some that still didn’t get it
The bank would arrange for something called ‘Credit’
The ‘Bank’ he said would be everyone’s friend
With hard and fast rules that were made to bend
He promised that no one need live in their means
From the old and infirm to the young and the teens
And with a rub of his hands and a glint in his eye
Optimus’ dreams grew wings, and did fly
Salvador sat on the edge of the group
Eating the last of the free mushroom soup
He couldn’t see how this system could win;
With stocks and shares and chips and pin
All he could see was a friend gone quite mad;
Sprouting about an untested fad
Because he had seen in a blinding white flash
The evil that came, when people sought cash
The things they would do, the levels they’d go
Divorces would rise as morals dived low
And as Salvador sat with his soup on his knee
The seller looked down and demanded a fee
Salvador blinked, ‘Had the madness begun?’
As another hand gripped him and took back his bun.
Salvador stood his emotions in tatters
He ran to escape, the small town of mad hatters.
He hid in the towns’ very grand and large church
As he heard the crowd bay, his stomach did lurch
He had to do something to stop all this madness;
To quell all the fear, the hatred and sadness
When all of a sudden the answer did come
He smiled to himself with the raise of a thumb
Salvador’s plan was bold yet quite simple
But first he must climb to the top of the steeple
The church was tall, perfect and round
And stood three thousand, feet from the ground
He grabbed at a stone that didn’t fit right
And waited all day until it was night
He sat at the top in the freezing night air
Not moving an inch from his mountainous lair
The town fell to sleep as the night carried on
But Salvador waited for the light of the sun
As the sun rose high and the cockerel did crow
Salvador heard, faint footsteps below
He squinted and looked, his eyes very keen
And there down below him stood Optimus Bean
He held out his stone and aimed it so true;
His fingers un-furled and down the stone flew
The missile cut, like a knife through the air;
Like coals through butter or a comb through hair
Optimus stood and smoked his cigar
As the stone flew true and straight from afar
He looked at his shoes and flicked off some mud
Then his whole world went blank from the sound of a thud
‘Our banker’s laid low’ they shouted and cried
With the crack on his head he was once again sane
And felt quite confused at his unwanted fame
When he was told of the things he had said;
And that all of it came from a bump to the head
But why had he said all the things that he did;
The talk of fast bucks
and a couple of quid?
A loud cough cut, through the bright morning’s air
And everyone turned to see Salvador there
He walked to his friend through the gathering throng
While deep in the church came the sound of a gong
He picked up Optimus and dusted him down
Then turned and gave him a worrying frown
I had no choice, my dear old friend
As to your will, I just could not bend
You had gone mad from a bump to the head
So I thought that a second would stand in good stead
And now I see you standing here
I know I now have nothing to fear
Whatever took hold of your mind and your soul
Is once again placed, back into its black hole
Optimus smiled at the friend he knew well
And told of the moral that this tale could tell:
If you want to be happy and don’t care for money
Then set sail now for the Island of 'Honey'
But if money and wealth are to you just like mantras
Then crawl back under your rock, and join all the bankers.
End
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