Utter Noun Scents

GloPoWriMo 2019 Day 21
Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that incorporates wild, surreal images. Try to play around with writing that doesn’t make formal sense, but which engages all the senses and involves dream-logic.

Where frooblewicks all gloop and stoop
To snurt the snigglewurts.
And, snurtling thus, in murfing soup,
Will ache with migglehurts;
Where dinge descends like glooming gloop,
For clutterating frings,
And utterations freebly droop
Although preek rinfling sings;

Where magicolders swell and spell
Transfirming gurbleblats,
And noviclids spag down the well —
Catophony of clacks —
When come the blingling wurtifurts
Prancading in a row,
(For such gabloons will offer snurts
As emmytwo mite know;)

Where blinply graggles swoongly sway,
Amidst the clabblebrots,
To tamptelise the ear each day
With croonilingly prots;
These fably fings that one retrieves
Are joys to come across,
And vanishment when waking leaves
An aching sense of loss.

© April 2019 Colonialist