Category Archives: Compositions Inspired by Ogden Nash

Short rhymes in English following the steps of the great humorist Ogden Nash.

Who was Ogden Nash?

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ogden_Nash
Frederic Ogden Nash (August 19, 1902 – May 19, 1971) was an American poet well known for his light verse, of which he wrote over 500 pieces. With his unconventional rhyming schemes, he was declared the country’s best-known producer of humorous poetry.

Owlgden


Owls are known to screech and they can also hoot
But what’s far more important’s, they’re awfully cuoot.
I understand further that they’re supposed to be wise
Being equipped with an inner light for darknesses to surmise.
An owl had once unfortunately though, in broad and sunny daylight,
Arrived by mistake in my home, where it found no deelight.
Light brown feathers it had worn and could’ve been young or old,
And though I wished to pat its back, I wasn’t exactly bold.
It crouched in a corner — sightless, sad and scared,
In wilderness it’d landed, for all it could’ve cared.
It didn’t screech all through the day, nor did it hoot,
And it remained seated where it sat, infinitely cuoot.
Till the sun had managed to set and arrived a dusky shade,
When it began to stir a little and soon its wings it spreade.
Long were those wings and loud were its screech
As it flew from room to room and made me lose my spreech.
A frightened owl and a frightened mee
From each other as we tried to flee,
Hunter we each thought, the other was,
Chasing its prey, by jungle laws,
Till against a glass pane alas, the owl had finally crashed,
Which grumbled a little as expected, but dutifully crackshed,
Creating a hole through which the owl then speedily escaped,
As I shivered under a table alone and stupidly at it gayscaped.
I know not where it went to then, to screech or to hoot,
But wherever it may be now, it must be awfully cuoot.

___
Photo Source

 

Owlgden


Owls are known to screech and they can also hoot
But what’s far more important’s, they’re awfully cuoot.
I understand further that they’re supposed to be wise
Being equipped with an inner light for darknesses to surmise.
An owl had once unfortunately though, in broad and sunny daylight,
Arrived by mistake in my home, where it found no deelight.
Light brown feathers it had worn and could’ve been young or old,
And though I wished to pat its back, I wasn’t exactly bold.
It crouched in a corner — sightless, sad and scared,
In wilderness it’d landed, for all it could’ve cared.
It didn’t screech all through the day, nor did it hoot,
And it remained seated where it sat, infinitely cuoot.
Till the sun had managed to set and arrived a dusky shade,
When it began to stir a little and soon its wings it spreade.
Long were those wings and loud were its screech
As it flew from room to room and made me lose my spreech.
A frightened owl and a frightened mee
From each other as we tried to flee,
Hunter, we each thought, the other was,
Chasing its prey by jungle laws,
Till against a glass pane alas, the owl had finally crashed,
Which grumbled a little as expected, but dutifully crackshed,
Creating a hole through which the owl then speedily escaped,
As I shivered under a table alone and stupidly at it gayscaped.
I know not where it went to then, to screech or to hoot,
But wherever it may be now, it must be awfully cuoot.

___
Photo Source

 

Exceptions


Except for those that get trapped inside my pants,
I really don’t think I hold a grudge against ants.

Ogdentricity

Ogdentricity,
I believe’s a form of eccentricity.
Which need not be the worst form of madness.
In fact, it’s superior to other kinds of badness.
Such as a ferocious beast,
A malignant cyst, or an economeast,
All of which are full of insidious intent
To not let you survive and new Ogdentricities invtent.

Ogdenvironment

I wish I knew from the bottom of my heartest
What sort of a residence I ought to have preferredest
As global warming makes summers ever hotter
And winters are turning now longer and coldter
Perhaps what’s called for’s an exchange in hemisphlias
Himalayas for summers and winters in Australias.

Ogdemocrazies

I love you so, dear chimpanzees
I wish I lived as happily as thzees
High up on a lofty tree
Draped in leaves, lovely and free
In blissful ignorance of democrazies.

Ogdentity

Amongst the many things that I’ve left undone
Perhaps the most important’s meaningless fun
Fun that is witless, fun that’s mour
Than spending your savings in Kuala Lumpour
Fun that can drop on you on nights dark and rainy
In African forests with girls Bahraini
In the company of camels, in the company of kangaroos
Speaking to baboons and running after dangaroos
Flying helicopters
With a million grasshopters
How I do wish I were shamelessly happy
Without rhyme or reason, in my necktie and nappy.

Ogdenoddity

Last night at the starry sky, as I was casually glimpsing
I thought I saw a shadow up there, which appeared to be limpsing
I asked the shadow – Is that you dear God?
But its reaction to my question was somewhat odd
As it turned around and pleaded me to leave well alone
And it said this in a distinct tone that resembled a moan
Get lost in your temples please and practise alchemy
Instead of preaching that I’ll cure your woes, for that’s called blaschemy.
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Ogdenicitis

God’s armour methinks
Is old and rusty and full of chinks
Through the chinks sometimes show up his weeping eyes
And you hear him mumbling as he sighs–
Worn out alas is my mace
Or else I’d have wiped out the human race
And made it an extinct species
For spreading lies and fecund thescies
That claim it was I who’d created the universe
When in fact it was exactly the reuniverse.

Ogdenesque

When machines had begun to arrive on my earth
They used doubtlessly to add to my mirth
They ground for me my spices, massaged for me my legs
They toasted my bread each morning and soft boiled my eggs
Warmed up my cold food and dried up my wet hair
And vacuum cleaned my floors, under CCTV care
With every passing day show up machines ever newerer
To perform for me queer tasks that keep on growing queerer
And now of course my entire home the machines alone do stride
While I roam about the dusty streets of bygone mirth and pride.
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