Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"toves" poems
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves did gyre and gimble in the wabe. All mimsy were the borogoves, And the mome raths outgrabe. "Beware the Jabberwock, my son! The jaws that bite, the claws that catch! Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun the frumious Bandersnatch!" He took his vorpal sword in hand: Long time the maxome foe he sought- So rested he by the Tumtum tree, And stood a while in thought. As in uffish thought he stood, The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame, Came whiffling through the tulgey wood, And burbled as it came. One, two! One, two! And through and through The vorpal blade went snicker-snack. He left it dead, and with its head He went galumphing back. "Has thou slain the Jabberwock? Come to my arms, my beamish boy! O frabjous day! Calloh! Callay! He chortled in his joy. 'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves Did gyre and gimble in the wabe: All mimsy were the borogoves, And the mome raths outgrabe.
0
7.1k
Jabberwocky
Why do mechanics need manuals when they’ve fixed it before? Answer my question or I’ll walk out the door! Didn’t they attend trade schools or get O.J.T.? Why need repair manuals?  That what gets me. I just want a mechanic who won’t refer to a book. Just fix my car already, don’t give it a second look! Why do pilots run checklists and reference their charts? Just push the dang button and hope the plane starts! Didn’t they go to flight school and pass all the tests? Pilots fly most days, so who needs all that mess? I want a pilot who knows without referencing a chart. Just get on with the flying and prove that you’re smart! What about the doctors who are practicing still? Why can’t they get it right?  And that includes the bill! They’re always researching new studies in journals When time’s better spent attending patients’ internals. I just want a Marcus Welby, Ben Casey or Kildare Instead of keeping up to date, I just want them to care. Why do lawyers review case studies and legal decisions? Such antics in my book leave them open to derision. All that studying in law school should have been enough. After passing the bar they should already know their stuff. I just want an attorney who’s a know-it-all ace, Not a book worm mouthpiece to plead my case. Finally, the poets, being wordsmiths their art You won’t see them referencing a checklist or chart But look, in their hands, just what can that be? A dictionary?  Thesaurus?  Are those what I see? A real poet never needs help reading Shakespeare or Keats Using Webster and Roget would make all of us cheats! If a poet is real, the words should just flow I think that all poets should automatically know The right words to use, and literary crutches forgo How dare they try better vocabulary to hone They should come up with good things to say on their own. I’m looking for poets who’ll just know what to say Like Lewis Carroll’s poems in his heyday: “Twas brillig, and the slithy toves, Did gyre and gimble in the wabe: All mimsy were the borogroves, And the mome raths outgrabe.” Don’t bother looking up his words, for that would be a dumb thing. Using a dictionary or thesaurus, you might actually learn something!
0
Oct 26, 2019
Oct 26, 2019 at 10:20 PM UTC
Jabberwock Revisited
Why do mechanics need manuals when they’ve fixed it before? Answer my question or I’ll walk out the door! Didn’t they attend trade schools or get O.J.T.? Why need repair manuals?  That what gets me. I just want a mechanic who won’t refer to a book. Just fix my car already, don’t give it a second look! Why do pilots run checklists and reference their charts? Just push the dang button and hope the plane starts! Didn’t they go to flight school and pass all the tests? Pilots fly most days, so who needs all that mess? I want a pilot who knows without referencing a chart. Just get on with the flying and prove that you’re smart! What about the doctors who are practicing still? Why can’t they get it right?  And that includes the bill! They’re always researching new studies in journals When time’s better spent attending patients’ internals. I just want a Marcus Welby, Ben Casey or Kildare Instead of keeping up to date, I just want them to care. Why do lawyers review case studies and legal decisions? Such antics in my book leave them open to derision. All that studying in law school should have been enough. After passing the bar they should already know their stuff. I just want an attorney who’s a know-it-all ace, Not a book worm mouthpiece to plead my case. Finally, the poets, being wordsmiths their art You won’t see them referencing a checklist or chart But look, in their hands, just what can that be? A dictionary?  Thesaurus?  Are those what I see? A real poet never needs help reading Shakespeare or Keats Using Webster and Roget would make all of us cheats! If a poet is real, the words should just flow I think that all poets should automatically know The right words to use, and literary crutches forgo How dare they try better vocabulary to hone They should come up with good things to say on their own. I’m looking for poets who’ll just know what to say Like Lewis Carroll’s poems in his heyday: “Twas brillig, and the slithy toves, Did gyre and gimble in the wabe: All mimsy were the borogroves, And the mome raths outgrabe.” Don’t bother looking up his words, for that would be a dumb thing. Using a dictionary or thesaurus, you might actually learn something!
Continue reading...
41
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves Did gyre and gimble in the wabe: All mimsy were the borogoves, And the mome raths outgrabe. "Beware the Jabberwock, my son! The jaws that bite, the claws that catch! Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun The frumious Bandersnatch!" He took his vorpal sword in hand: Long time the manxome foe he sought-- So rested he by the Tumtum tree, And stood awhile in thought. And, as in uffish thought he stood, The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame, Came whiffling through the tulgey wood, And burbled as it came! One two! One two! And through and through The vorpal blade went snicker-snack! He left it dead, and with its head He went galumphing back. "And hast thou slain the Jabberwock? Come to my arms, my beamish boy! O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!" He chortled in his joy. 'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves Did gyre and gimble in the wabe: All mimsy were the borogoves, And the mome raths outgrabe.
0
Jun 29, 2010
Jun 29, 2010 at 8:48 AM UTC
From Through the Looking-Glass, 1871
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves Did gyre and gimble in the wabe: All mimsy were the borogoves, And the mome raths outgrabe. "Beware the Jabberwock, my son! The jaws that bite, the claws that catch! Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun The frumious Bandersnatch!" He took his vorpal sword in hand: Long time the manxome foe he sought -- So rested he by the Tumtum tree, And stood awhile in thought. And, as in uffish thought he stood, The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame, Came whiffling through the tulgey wood, And burbled as it came! One, two! One, two! And through and through The vorpal blade went snicker-snack! He left it dead, and with its head He went galumphing back. "And, has thou slain the Jabberwock? Come to my arms, my beamish boy! O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!' He chortled in his joy. 'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves Did gyre and gimble in the wabe; All mimsy were the borogoves, And the mome raths outgrabe.
0
Jan 30, 2015
Jan 30, 2015 at 7:47 PM UTC
JABBERWOCKY Lewis Carroll (from Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There, 1872)
The Toves came by again last night To rant and rave at me But what they asked they had no right As any fool could see To rant and rave at me Its pointless as I could not say As any fool could see And if I could I wouldn't anyway Its pointless as I could not say I do not talk with Toves And if I could I wouldn't anyway As everybody knows I do not talk with Toves They always treat me with contempt As everybody knows They just came barging in my tent Demanding that I tell them things But what they asked they had no right Lording around as if they're kings The Toves came by again last night
0
Jun 14, 2010
Jun 14, 2010 at 11:04 PM UTC
Pantoumic Toves
'Twas brillig and the slithy toves Did gyre and gimble in the wabe: All mimsy were the borogoves And the mome raths outgrabe. "Beware the Jabberwock, my son! The jaws that bite, the claws that catch! Beware the Jubjub bird and shun The frumious Bandersnatch!" He took his vorpal sword in hand Long time the manxome foe he sought- So rested he by Tumtum tree And stood awhile in thought. And, as in uffish thought he stood, The Jabberwocky, with eyes of flame, Came whiffling through the tulgey wood, And burbled as it came! One, two! One, two! And through and through The vorpal blade went snicker-snack! He left it dead, and with it's head He went galumphing back. "And hast thou slain the Jabberwock? Come to my arms, my beamish boy! O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!" He chortled in his joy. 'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves Did gyre and gimble in the wabe: All mimsy were the borogoves And the mome raths outgrabe. -Lewis Carroll
0
Apr 30, 2015
Apr 30, 2015 at 10:57 PM UTC
The Jabberwocky
*Twas brillig and the slithy toves Did gyle and gimble in the wabe. “Beware the jabberwock my son The jaws that bite, the claws that catch…”* The twin scourges of solitude Death comes upon closed hearts, Nay… Cold Hearts would pray for death Close cousin to the cold heart, the busy mind. One rises with the other, in fact; Both encage… Both disconnect… Both starve … of joy Both take… the person…’s soul. **I give up, I say Love is not for me I fall to me knee Bow head in defeat** *Why do I show my neck to my foe? There is a better way, I do not know.* I don’t know I simply do not know Everyone looks toward me Expecting my advice It’s not here **I do not know the reason For the changing of the tide Nor changing of the season Nor the…** The answers Are as hidden from me As they are for the rest of you So do not look at me Turn and go
0
Dec 29, 2014
Dec 29, 2014 at 10:33 PM UTC
Back of the Folder Calculations
Indeed, father! The Jabberwock is nigh!   I’ll go with my vorpal sword, his head will be no more and slay him down, will I! I’ll meet him in the tugley wood by the Bandersnatch domain. I’ll wait for him on the edge, for his head, I’ll come to claim. I have slain the Jabberwock, his body will decay! Let’s all meet by the Tumtum tree and rejoice this frabjous day! The slithy toves and mome raths all now well understood. ’ Twas brillig, it was Indeed, for it ended as it should.
0
Oct 18, 2020
Oct 18, 2020 at 2:38 PM UTC
Who Hath Slain The Jabberwock?
IT WAS A FRABJOUS DAY The Jabberwock was having its usual cup of coffee its tenth of the day. Black. Always black. One could see coffee grains caught in its teeth Always the same big grin. We joked (behind its back of course) that Jabberwock meant coffee ****** Not because we were fearful but because he was such a sensitive soul and we didn't want to cause offense where no offense was meant. It could get a bit uffish. An unlit cigarette clung to its slobbery lips. It didn't smoke but wanted to appear to do so. The mome raths were outgrabbing they never seemed to stop. The Cheshire Cat (not all there) smiled its smile we called it Mona Lisa. We were all just hanging about as you do when your author ponders. Nobody dared to approach him. He was a God to us. Me and the rest of the Toves knew our place and played cards with the Borogoves. The Borogoves were cheaters. The Jubjub birds were bored out of their tiny skulls perching in the branches of the TumTum trees in Tulgey Wood. The Bandersnatch was having a frumious forty winks. We were glad to be just alive if only in words - words was our world. No use getting all mimsy about it. We weren't as slithy as we were made out to be. We practiced our gyre and gimble. We were merely the creatures of his brain. We wouldn't dare disturb the Author for fear of being scratched out. Nobody 'cept the manxome Jabberwock that is.   "But what's my motivation  Mr. Carroll?" He'd forever burble. "Could I not take just a small bite perhaps out of the little beamish chap ?" he'd whiffle. Mr. Carroll( nobody dared to call him Lewis) just smiled and Jack Jabberwock would galumphed back. "Ok! Places everyone - 'tis brillig! and the story limped on again. It was a frabjous day a really frabjous day. All that could be heard was the dripping of a tap and the constant scratching of the pen creating forever creating the next sentence.
0
Sep 6, 2019
Sep 6, 2019 at 5:46 AM UTC
IT WAS A FRABJOUS DAY
IT WAS A FRABJOUS DAY The Jabberwock was having its usual cup of coffee its tenth of the day. Black. Always black. One could see coffee grains caught in its teeth Always the same big grin. We joked (behind its back of course) that Jabberwock meant coffee ****** Not because we were fearful but because he was such a sensitive soul and we didn't want to cause offense where no offense was meant. It could get a bit uffish. An unlit cigarette clung to its slobbery lips. It didn't smoke but wanted to appear to do so. The mome raths were outgrabbing they never seemed to stop. The Cheshire Cat (not all there) smiled its smile we called it Mona Lisa. We were all just hanging about as you do when your author ponders. Nobody dared to approach him. He was a God to us. Me and the rest of the Toves knew our place and played cards with the Borogoves. The Borogoves were cheaters. The Jubjub birds were bored out of their tiny skulls perching in the branches of the TumTum trees in Tulgey Wood. The Bandersnatch was having a frumious forty winks. We were glad to be just alive if only in words - words was our world. No use getting all mimsy about it. We weren't as slithy as we were made out to be. We practiced our gyre and gimble. We were merely the creatures of his brain. We wouldn't dare disturb the Author for fear of being scratched out. Nobody 'cept the manxome Jabberwock that is.   "But what's my motivation  Mr. Carroll?" He'd forever burble. "Could I not take just a small bite perhaps out of the little beamish chap ?" he'd whiffle. Mr. Carroll( nobody dared to call him Lewis) just smiled and Jack Jabberwock would galumphed back. "Ok! Places everyone - 'tis brillig! and the story limped on again. It was a frabjous day a really frabjous day. All that could be heard was the dripping of a tap and the constant scratching of the pen creating forever creating the next sentence.
Continue reading...
90
spiral down the rabbit hole take a swim in a sea of tears walk to anywhere paint some roses red dance with the dead bargain with mad men walk a chessboard drown in the sky blue ask a answer with no question take a half cup of tea slip through a looking glass tell a tale of woe walk through shady woods run to nowhere chat with a cat sporting a grin go completely mad and perhaps maybe just perhaps you'll see a beast of nonsense made of the blather of fools living in slithy toves with the jubjub bird above and the bandersnatch below is the jabberwock hear it! hear the monster! hear its tentacles slither! hear the beast of the mad! take a step! run a mile! jump from the roof! fall from the sky! hear the beast of the deranged! the monster of the disturbed! the myth of the lunatics! the jabberwock of wonderland!
0
Jan 26, 2019
Jan 26, 2019 at 9:57 PM UTC
jabberwock
IT WAS A FRABJOUS DAY The Jabberwock was having its usual cup of coffee its tenth of the day. Black. Always black. One could see coffee grains caught in its teeth Always the same big grin. We joked (behind its back of course) that Jabberwock meant coffee ****** Not because we were fearful but because he was such a sensitive soul and we didn't want to cause offense where no offense was meant. It could get a bit uffish. An unlit cigarette clung to its slobbery lips. It didn't smoke but wanted to appear to do so. The mome raths were outgrabbing they never seemed to stop. The Cheshire Cat (not all there) smiled its smile we called it Mona Lisa. We were all just hanging about as you do when your author ponders. Nobody dared to approach him. He was a God to us. Me and the rest of the Toves knew our place and played cards with the Borogoves. The Borogoves were cheaters. The Jubjub birds were bored out of their tiny skulls perching in the branches of the TumTum trees in Tulgey Wood. The Bandersnatch was having a frumious forty winks. We were glad to be just alive if only in words - words was our world. No use getting all mimsy about it. We weren't as slithy as we were made out to be. We practiced our gyre and gimble. We were merely the creatures of his brain. We wouldn't dare disturb the Author for fear of being scratched out. Nobody 'cept the manxome Jabberwock that is. "But what's my motivation Mr. Carroll?" He'd forever burble. "Could I not take just a small bite perhaps out of the little beamish chap ?" he'd whiffle. Mr. Carroll( nobody dared to call him Lewis) just smiled and Jack Jabberwock would galumphed back. "Ok! Places everyone - 'tis brillig! and the story limped on again. It was a frabjous day a really frabjous day. All that could be heard was the dripping of a tap and the constant scratching of the pen creating forever creating the next sentence.
0
Sep 6, 2021
Sep 6, 2021 at 4:52 PM UTC
IT WAS A FRABJOUS DAY
IT WAS A FRABJOUS DAY The Jabberwock was having its usual cup of coffee its tenth of the day. Black. Always black. One could see coffee grains caught in its teeth Always the same big grin. We joked (behind its back of course) that Jabberwock meant coffee ****** Not because we were fearful but because he was such a sensitive soul and we didn't want to cause offense where no offense was meant. It could get a bit uffish. An unlit cigarette clung to its slobbery lips. It didn't smoke but wanted to appear to do so. The mome raths were outgrabbing they never seemed to stop. The Cheshire Cat (not all there) smiled its smile we called it Mona Lisa. We were all just hanging about as you do when your author ponders. Nobody dared to approach him. He was a God to us. Me and the rest of the Toves knew our place and played cards with the Borogoves. The Borogoves were cheaters. The Jubjub birds were bored out of their tiny skulls perching in the branches of the TumTum trees in Tulgey Wood. The Bandersnatch was having a frumious forty winks. We were glad to be just alive if only in words - words was our world. No use getting all mimsy about it. We weren't as slithy as we were made out to be. We practiced our gyre and gimble. We were merely the creatures of his brain. We wouldn't dare disturb the Author for fear of being scratched out. Nobody 'cept the manxome Jabberwock that is. "But what's my motivation Mr. Carroll?" He'd forever burble. "Could I not take just a small bite perhaps out of the little beamish chap ?" he'd whiffle. Mr. Carroll( nobody dared to call him Lewis) just smiled and Jack Jabberwock would galumphed back. "Ok! Places everyone - 'tis brillig! and the story limped on again. It was a frabjous day a really frabjous day. All that could be heard was the dripping of a tap and the constant scratching of the pen creating forever creating the next sentence.
Continue reading...
90