Poems List

Peekabo, I Almost See You

Peekabo, I Almost See You
Middle-aged life is merry, and I love to
lead it,
But there comes a day when your eyes
are all right but your arm isn't long
enough
to hold the telephone book where you can read it,
And your friends get jocular, so you go
to the oculist,
And of all your friends he is the joculist,
So over his facetiousness let us skim,
Only noting that he has been waiting for you ever since
you said Good evening to his grandfather clock under
the impression that it was him,
And you look at his chart and it says SHRDLU QWERTYOP,
and you say Well, why SHRDNTLU QWERTYOP? and he
says one set of glasses won't do.
You need two.
One for reading Erle Stanley Gardner's Perry Mason and
Keats's "Endymion" with,
And the other for walking around without saying Hello
to strange wymion with.
So you spend your time taking off your seeing glasses to put
on your reading glasses, and then remembering that your
reading glasses are upstairs or in the car,
And then you can't find your seeing glasses again because
without them on you can't see where they are.
Enough of such mishaps, they would try the patience of an
ox,
I prefer to forget both pairs of glasses and pass my declining
years saluting strange women and grandfather clocks.
239

One From One Leaves Two

One From One Leaves Two
Higgledy piggledy, my black hen,
She lays eggs for gentlemen.
Gentlemen come every day
To count what my black hen doth lay.
If perchance she lays too many,
They fine my hen a pretty penny;
If perchance she fails to lay,
The gentlemen a bonus pay.
Mumbledy pumbledy, my red cow,
She’s cooperating now.
At first she didn’t understand
That milk production must be planned;
She didn’t understand at first
She either had to plan or burst,
But now the government reports
She’s giving pints instead of quarts.
Fiddle de dee, my next-door neighbors,
They are giggling at their labors.
First they plant the tiny seed,
Then they water, then they weed,
Then they hoe and prune and lop,
They they raise a record crop,
Then they laugh their sides asunder,
And plow the whole caboodle under.
Abracadabra, thus we learn
The more you create, the less you earn.
The less you earn, the more you’re given,
The less you lead, the more you’re driven,
The more destroyed, the more they feed,
The more you pay, the more they need,
The more you earn, the less you keep,
And now I lay me down to sleep.
I pray the Lord my soul to take
If the tax-collector hasn’t got it before I wake.
249

Old Dr. Valentine To His Son

Old Dr. Valentine To His Son
Your hopeless patients will live,
Your healthy patients will die.
I have only this word to give:
Wonder, and find out why
330

No, You Be A Lone Eagle

No, You Be A Lone Eagle
I find it very hard to be fair-minded
About people who go around being air-minded.
I just can't see any fun
In soaring up up up into the sun
When the chances are still a fresh cool orchid to a paper geranium
That you'll unsoar down down down onto your (to you) invaluable
cranium.
I know the constant refrain
About how safer up in God's trafficless heaven than in an automobile
or a train
But ...
My God, have you ever taken a good look at a strut?
Then that one about how you're in Boston before you can say antidisestablishmentarianism
So that preferring to take five hours by rail is a pernicious example of
antiquarianism.
At least when I get on the Boston train I have a good chance of landing
in the South Station
And not in that part of the daily press which is reserved for victims of
aviation.
Then, despite the assurance that aeroplanes are terribly comfortable I
notice that when you are railroading or automobiling
You don't have to take a paper bag along just in case of a funny feeling.
It seems to me that no kind of depravity
Brings such speedy retribution as ignoring the law of gravity.
Therefore nobody could possibly indict me for perjury
When I swear that I wish the Wright brothers had gone in for silver
fox farming or tree surgery.
250

Look What You Did, Christopher!

Look What You Did, Christopher!
In fourteen hundred and ninety-two,
Someone sailed the ocean blue.
Somebody borrowed the fare in Spain
For a business trip on the bounding main,
And to prove to the people, by actual test,
You could get to the East by sailing West.
Somebody said, Sail on! Sail on!
And studied China and China's lingo,
And cried from the bow, There's China now!
And promptly bumped into San Domingo.
Somebody murmured, Oh dear, oh dear!
I've discovered the Western Hemisphere.
And that, you may think, my friends, was that.
But it wasn't. Not by a fireman's hat.
Well enough wasn't left alone,
And Columbus was only a cornerstone.
There came the Spaniards,
There came the Greeks,
There came the Pilgrims in leather breeks.
There came the Dutch,
And the Poles and Swedes,
The Persians, too,
And perhaps the Medes,
The Letts, the Lapps, and the Lithuanians,
Regal Russians, and ripe Roumanians.
There came the French
And there came the Finns,
And the Japanese
With their formal grins.
The Tartars came,
And the Terrible Turks -
In a word, humanity shot the works.
And the country that should have been Cathay
Decided to be
The U.S.A.
And that, you may think, my friends, was that.
But it wasn't. Not by a fireman's hat.
Christopher C. was the cornerstone,
And well enough wasn't left alone.
For those who followed
When he was through,
They burned to discover something, too.
Somebody, bored with rural scenery,
Went to work and invented machinery,
While a couple of other mental giants
Got together
And thought up Science.
Platinum blondes
(They were once peroxide),
Peruvian bonds


And carbon monoxide,
Tax evaders
And Vitamin A,
Vice crusaders,
And tattletale gray -
These, with many another phobia,
We owe to that famous Twelfth of Octobia.
O misery, misery, mumble and moan!
Someone invented the telephone,
And interrupted a nation's slumbers,
Ringing wrong but similar numbers.
Someone devised the silver screen
And the intimate Hollywood magazine,
And life is a Hades
Of clicking cameras,
And foreign ladies
Behaving amorous.
Gags have erased
Amusing dialog,
As gas has replaced
The crackling firelog.
All that glitters is sold as gold,
And our daily diet grows odder and odder,
And breakfast foods are dusty and cold -
It's a wise child
That knows its fodder.
Someone invented the automobile,
And good Americans took the wheel
To view American rivers and rills
And justly famous forests and hills -
But someone equally enterprising
Had invented billboard advertising.
You linger at home
In dark despair,
And wistfully try the electric air.
You hope against hope for a quiz imperial,
And what do they give you?
A doctor serial.
Oh, Columbus was only a cornerstone,
And well enough wasn't left alone,
For the Inquisition was less tyrannical
Than the iron rules of an age mechanical,
Which, because of an error in ',
Are clamped like corsets on me and you,
While Children of Nature we'd be today
If San Domingo
Had been Cathay.
And that, you may think, my friends, is that.
But it isn't - not by a fireman's hat.
The American people,
With grins jocose,


Always survive the fatal dose.
And though our systems are slightly wobbly,
We'll fool the doctor this time, probly.
285

My Dream

My Dream
This is my dream,
It is my own dream,
I dreamt it.
I dreamt that my hair was kempt.
Then I dreamt that my true love unkempt it.
292

Lines To Be Embroidered On A Bib

Lines To Be Embroidered On A Bib
OR
The Child Is Father Of The Man, But Not For Quite A While
So Thomas Edison
Never drank his medicine;
So Blackstone and Hoyle
Refused cod-liver oil;
So Sir Thomas Malory
Never heard of a calory;
So the Earl of Lennox
Murdered Rizzio without the aid of vitamins or calisthenox;
So Socrates and Plato
Ate dessert without finishing their potato;
So spinach was too spinachy
For Leonardo da Vinaci;
Well, it's all immaterial,
So eat your nice cereal,
And if you want to name your ration,
First go get a reputation.
220

Lines Indited With All The Depravity Of Poverty

Lines Indited With All The Depravity Of Poverty
One way to be very happy is to be very rich
For then you can buy orchids by the quire and bacon by the flitch.
And yet at the same time People don't mind if you only tip them a dime,
Because it's very funny
But somehow if you're rich enough you can get away with spending
water like money
While if you're not rich you can spend in one evening your salary for
the year
And everybody will just stand around and jeer.
If you are rich you don't have to think twice about buying a judge or a
horse,
Or a lower instead of an upper, or a new suit, or a divorce,
And you never have to say When,
And you can sleep every morning until nine or ten,
All of which
Explains why I should like very, very much to be very, very rich.
267

Kipling's Vermont

Kipling's Vermont
The summer like a rajah dies,
And every widowed tree
Kindles for Congregationalist eyes
An alien suttee.
224

Introspective Reflection

Introspective Reflection
I would live all my life in nonchalance and insouciance
Were it not for making a living, which is rather a nouciance.
342

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Identification and basic context

Ogden Nash was an American poet, known for his distinctive, humorous verse. He was born Frederic Ogden Nash and often used his given name in his work. He was an American citizen and wrote exclusively in English. His life and work spanned much of the 20th century, a period of significant social and technological change in the United States.

Childhood and education

Nash was born into a well-established family in Rye, New York. His father was a successful businessman. He attended public schools and later went to St. George's School in Newport, Rhode Island. He briefly attended Harvard University but dropped out before graduating. Despite not completing a traditional degree, Nash was well-read and possessed a sharp intellect, which he applied to his literary endeavors.

Literary trajectory

Nash began his writing career in advertising and journalism. He worked for several publications, including *The New Yorker*, where his unique poetic style found a receptive audience. His first book of poetry, *Primrose Path*, was published in 1935, and was followed by numerous other collections throughout his career. His work was widely published in magazines and anthologized frequently, solidifying his reputation as a major humorist.

Works, style, and literary characteristics

Nash's major works include *The Primrose Path* (1935), *The Face Is Familiar* (1940), *I'm a Stranger Here Myself* (1938), and *Versus* (1949). His poems often dealt with themes of everyday life, social customs, animals, and the quirks of human behavior. Nash's style is characterized by its highly original, often deliberately awkward, rhyme schemes and meter. He frequently employed neologisms (invented words) and portmanteaus to achieve humorous effects and unexpected rhymes. His poetic voice is witty, observational, and gently satirical, often adopting a conversational tone. He was a master of wordplay, puns, and humorous juxtapositions. His innovations lay in his radical departure from traditional poetic forms for humorous effect, creating a unique niche in American poetry.

Cultural and historical context

Nash's work reflected the social and cultural landscape of mid-20th century America. His poems commented on the burgeoning consumer culture, changing social mores, and the anxieties and absurdities of modern life. He was associated with the generation of American humorists that included figures like Robert Benchley and Dorothy Parker, though his style was distinctly his own. His popularity soared during a time when mass media, particularly magazines, played a significant role in shaping public taste and humor.

Personal life

Nash was married to Frances Ridgeway Lane, and they had two daughters. He was known for his genial personality and his deep love for his family. His personal life, while not overtly documented in his poetry, provided the backdrop for his observations on domesticity and everyday relationships. He enjoyed gardening and had a fondness for animals, which often featured in his poems.

Recognition and reception

Ogden Nash was immensely popular during his lifetime and continues to be widely read. His work was celebrated for its originality and humor, earning him a significant following. While not typically considered in the same academic light as more 'serious' poets, his contributions to American humor and light verse are undeniable. He received honorary degrees from several universities, recognizing his literary achievements.

Influences and legacy

While Nash's style was highly individual, he drew inspiration from the tradition of English light verse and rhyme. His legacy lies in his unique contribution to American humor and poetry. He demonstrated that poetry could be accessible, entertaining, and insightful without sacrificing linguistic playfulness. He influenced subsequent generations of humor writers and poets who appreciated his linguistic inventiveness and his ability to find humor in the mundane.

Interpretation and critical analysis

Critics often analyze Nash's work for its cleverness, linguistic dexterity, and social commentary. His poems can be seen as lighthearted explorations of human nature, offering a humorous perspective on societal norms and individual behaviors. The apparent simplicity of his verse often masks a sophisticated understanding of language and a keen observational eye.

Curiosities and lesser-known aspects

Nash was known to be a meticulous craftsman of his poems, spending considerable time perfecting his rhymes and rhythms. Despite his humorous public persona, he was also a thoughtful individual. His distinctive handwriting, with its unique letter formations, was almost as recognizable as his poetry.

Death and memory

Ogden Nash passed away in 1971. His poems remain popular in children's literature and in collections of American humor. He is remembered as one of America's most original and beloved comic poets.