"faddle" poems
The cur foretells the knell of parting day;
The loafing herd winds slowly o'er the lea;
The wise man homewards plods; I only stay
To fiddle-faddle in a minor key.
2.3k
Here
Is a timely
Noun to consider
From the Merriam-Webster page.
"Trumpery."
Note (at bottom) the list of near-antonyms;
what is the opposite of trumpery?
[Popularity: Bottom 40% of words]
trumpery
noun trum·pery \ˈtrəm-p(ə-)rē\
Definition of trumpery
1
a : worthless nonsense b : trivial or useless articles : junk <a wagon loaded with household trumpery — Washington Irving>
2
archaic : ****** finery
Origin of trumpery
Middle English (Scots) trompery deceit, from Middle French, from tromper to deceive
First Known Use: 15th century
Examples of trumpery
<claims for weight-loss products that are based much more on Madison-Avenue trumpery than on bariatric science>
Related to trumpery
Synonyms
applesauce [slang], balderdash, baloney (also boloney), beans, bilge, blah (also blah-blah), blarney, blather, blatherskite, blither, bosh, bull [slang], bunk, bunkum (or ******** claptrap, codswallop [British], crapola [slang], crock, drivel, drool, fiddle, fiddle-faddle, fiddlesticks, flannel [British], flapdoodle, folderol (also falderal), folly, foolishness, fudge, garbage, guff, hogwash, hokeypokey, hokum, hoodoo, hooey, horsefeathers [slang], humbug, humbuggery, jazz, malarkey (also malarky), moonshine, muck, nerts [slang], nuts, piffle, poppycock, punk, rot, ******* senselessness, silliness, slush, stupidity, taradiddle (or tarradiddle), tommyrot, tosh, trash, nonsense, twaddle
Related Words
absurdity, asininity, fatuity, foolery, idiocy, imbecility, inaneness, inanity, insanity, kookiness, lunacy; absurdness, craziness, madness, senselessness, witlessness; hoity-toity, monkey business, monkeyshine(s), shenanigan(s), tomfoolery; gas, hot air, rigmarole (also rigamarole); double-talk, greek, hocus-pocus
Near Antonyms
levelheadedness, rationality, reasonability, reasonableness, sensibleness; common sense, horse sense, sense; discernment, judgment (or judgement), wisdom
By: Robinson Bolkum
Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 6:44 PM UTC
Sleeveless in Seattle
cruising through the pouring rain
night of the living dregs in my brain
thrown away dreams clogging up the drain
given away my slick jacket of satin
nothing left now but this picture of Patton
to stay awake keep repeating words of Latin
mea culpa I need a job something new
need something to take my mind off you
maybe the coffee house can give me something to do
Don McLean had his American Pie
so please explain to me why then can't I
keep off the sauce give the smoke a kiss goodbye
for lunch a giant box of Fiddle Faddle
broke as hell up the creek without a paddle
not even a decent shirt sleeveless in Seattle
Gomer LePoet ....
Dec 5, 2013
Dec 5, 2013 at 8:06 PM UTC
Tittle tattle
ribble and rabble
The conversation goes
the way the conversation went
Fiddle faddle
dibble and daddle
every word emitted
was indeed foretold by the committed
Wrip wrap
snip snap
tip tap
Without an outstretched hand
Who is to let the movements move
like hourglass sand?
Apr 25, 2016
Apr 25, 2016 at 1:21 AM UTC
Can you catch me?
I don't think so,
I've gone a place that you won't know.
Maybe I'm behind the tree,
Or caught in the water,
the salt of the sea,
Or Maybe I'm in the gully
Hidden by giants,
but not quite fully.
Are there leaves big enough to cover me?
Are there knots where there can't be the knots that should be?
A hole to hide me
A place to confide me
But be me in a knot that should not be?
Riddle, raddle, fiddle, faddle,
up a creek without a paddle
Could I give up without a battle?
blood and guts and fiddle faddle.
the veins of my heart burst,
the crackle of my throat thirsts,
but can you guess what's the worst?
that we're all cursed,
marbles and bratwurst,
laid on the table as the first
Born is the water star that quenches the thirst,
exploding all suns in a cosmic ray burst.
But ray is to me as play is to you,
an extension of a point leads you someplace new.
I'm found at last,
the stones been passed,
My love, of a love,
is love of the past.
Feb 21, 2014
Feb 21, 2014 at 10:23 PM UTC
3 months old little Paddle began to change
His fluffy yellow feathers rearranged
His new feathers silvery brown exchanged
A little taller in stature, neck now long
Mrs. Fiddle and Mr. Faddle waddle doddle
Little paddle, full of **** and vinegar
full throttle singing a song
One fine day his family got larger, they say
Mrs. Toodles, and Mr. Doodles and their
3 triplets aunt, uncle cousins, arrived today
Doodle , Caboodle, and Scoodle Triplets
The girls walking and talking liplets
The triplets Doodle, Caboodle,Scoodle and little Paddle scurry flurry off to play
Mrs Fittle, Mr Faddle, Mrs Tootle, Mr. Doodle between them not much to say
Frazzled and dazzled, caring for their offspring each day
The geese parents getting older
The Young gaggle of geese growing bolder
As the weather grew colder?
The familys stay away from the flock
Each day time takes away the ever changing clock
Both parents know one thing fear the dock
The first snippet and tip it good weather
No longer needing those thick feathers like a sweater
The sweet smell of flowers, hang in the air, lilac, and Heather
It’s time to learn how to Fly
The gaggle of geese begin to nervously cry
Trying to lift off the ground their parents
Not a sound, cautiously, look around
Keep trying, encourage, parent geese flying
Take a run for the sky lift off high battle cry
The exquisite excitement is in the air
Feathers to and fro flailing everywhere
The triplets hover lovers without a care
Little paddles Svelte feathers show a tare
Slowly draft drifted Earth bound
A shaky *** slump, defeated down
Mrs. Fittle, and Mr. Faddle right behind
Little paddle’s battle to stay in the air
Incidence grew in intensity with Care
The truth his feathers were just not ready
Sadly madly he wanted to soar not steady
His wings too small it was not his time
The hardest lesson is being left behind
Little paddle’s glorious day will come
He will gleefully glide, in the big blue sky
With Mrs. fiddle and Mr. Faddle closely by
Jun 2, 2024
Jun 2, 2024 at 12:53 AM UTC
On the Center Island embankment
Mother Mallard sits on her eggs 24-29 days
One hour twice a day in the sunshine,rays
She must leaves her eggs unprotected
Starvation never realizes the unexpected
Mrs. Fiddle and Mr. Faddle
Had eight eggs under their care
Predation, Herons claimed seven there
A perfect duckling name Little Paddle
The only Duckling to survive
Fluffy, healthy, strong Full of energy alive
Fiddle and Faddle guarded Little Paddle
From dillydallying around
For a wild Little Paddle
Mischief can easily be found
All mallard ducks pair off The same way
Pecking order, preservation at play
Mother Mallards sit distant from the flock
Mrs.Fiddle Mr. Faddle and Little Paddle
Animal instincts stay distant from the dock
One fine day A mishap dismay
Wiggle and waddle they progressed
Refreshed, Digressed and obsessed
They search for their missing Little Paddle
Under a Elderly Mother Mallard’s wing
A small Beak seen it’s the cutest little thing
Out pops Little Paddle
squeaking and squawking “ here I am”
Fiddle and Faddle tired of worry walking
Mrs. Fiddle pitched a fit, spit and Spatial
A plangent tangent, of loss, of pain
But for a Little Paddle it was just a game
Harmoniously Honking all is right as rain
Mrs. Fiddle and Mr. Faddle
Have a heck of a time gripping the rattle
The parenting reins in the saddle
Growing quickly with giggles and gaggles
The adventures of Little Paddle
May 8, 2024
May 8, 2024 at 12:08 AM UTC