Tag Archives: Ogden Nash

In the style of Ogden Nash, beloved poet of whimsy

Investigation of a bachelor’s refrigerator is akin to a visit to a Museum of Natural History,

Usually involving mustiness and baffling miscellany and gritty realism and a dollop of mystery,

But nobody will be there to adhere a visitor’s badge on us,

Nor will a docent explain that after some months of benign neglect, the contents of a bag of carrots become mucilaginous,

And since the mission is to clean and to come out as unscathed as possible it behooves us the custodian to arm ourself with scrubbies and a dish-soaped rag and an otherwise-never-used department store credit card for that which is excessively sticky,

And possibly an exorcist for that which is downright icky,

and which finds its way to the bottommost nook, cranny and cavity

Via the elegant mechanism of gravity.

A sizable, sturdy garbage bag will serve, Ladies and Mates,

To contain the many items that have passed by as much as a year their “Best Served By” dates.

The hours invested in this enterprise cannot exactly be called fun,

But darn if there isn’t a slight elation when it is finally done,

And we will be made even more glad

When we crack open the untouched bottle of vodka we forgot we had.

Loosely based on a true event

app yours

December 2, 2024

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sometimes i fall into the “first one’s free, kid” online trap

and i pay nothing but i do install the app

and there goes a chunk of my disposable time

and all for more distractive irrelevance that makes as much difference in my life as does laryngitis to a mime,

and MUCH later i wake up and smell the stripped-wire fumes

and i go to System and then Apps and count the dozens of app-piranha amounting to an app-inferno that consumes and consumes and consumes,

and find the truth of my subconscious-originated rumor

is that the apps not only consume system resources but also the very being of one GWB-monogrammed consumer.

so i get out the handy-dandy System lawnmower more technically known as Uninstall,

but though i want to seek&destroy them all,

after just a few have been dispatched i start remembering a niceness about this one or a funness about that one,

and i just can’t bring myself to do in the Jokers On Parade one or oblivionize the Don’t You Just Love a Cat one,

and in a few days i again become rapturously entrapped

and, minorest of minor poets that i am, i realize that Apped has, does, and ever will rhyme with Zapped.

Renewed thanks to the spirit of the inventor of the style I employed for this poem, the immortal Ogden Nash.

Other Uses for Socks

August 23, 2024

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“You see, they get holes in them.” Albert Einstein, explaining why he never wore socks

If everyone stopped wearing socks and yet sockmakers maintained manufacture

One way to put them to use would be to sew bunches of them into throw-pillow-like gizmos that would follow fall-prone people around using Roomba technology, so that when the person fell it would zip under them, thereby preventing bruise and fracture.

We could also make everything from handguns to cannons that were designed based on T-Shirt-Cannon technology to harmlessly and via compressed air fire projectiles made out of socks that are soft and fluffy,

And then melt down or otherwise repurpose all ordnance capable of killing people, and when the gun nuts go ballistic so to speak say Hey, reread the Second Amendment, which gives you the right to bear arms but never breathes a word about what KIND of arms, have a free Sock-Shooter and stop being huffy.

With enough socks you can make a megacushion that would unsplat your landing even if you fell off a steeple,

You could make car-muffler cozies that shut off the car engine if the muffler noise exceeded 60 decibels, protecting pedestrian hearing and ticking off the loud-car people;

And I am no inventor but give funding to anyone willing to follow the mandate of using socks to make the world more benign

And soon all would turn warm and fuzzy and truly fine.

Afterword: Fans of the late, great Ogden Nash will recognize my attempt to adopt his style. His whimsical poetry truly made the world a more warm and fuzzy place. How I miss him!

The Poem Exchange: Joseph A and Gary B

February 26, 2021

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A fellow member of my Poets All Call group, a bright and imaginative man named Joseph Arechavala, wrote a poem and posted it to our group yesterday. I found the poem contained a metaphor for Truth that was apt . . . and I also felt compelled to respond. So I wrote a poem too. I have Joe’s kind permission to post our exchange for all the Blogoverse to see, and that will come soon, but first I want to share a drawing I just made, based on the fact that Joe is using a Groucho Marx headshot for his avatar. I thought it would be cute to draw Groucho and one of my own personal heroes, Kurt Vonnegut, shoulder to shoulder and smoking their tobacco products of choice, thus:

2021 0225 grouch kurt

JOE:

Truth is elusive
Like a woman
Standing in the distance
The sun outlining
Her beauty
A woman who
You know will
Never walk towards you
But will remain
A vaguely fair form
In the far away field
And you will
Walk towards her
But never
Come close to her
And you will weep

****

GARY:

Let me be your wingman Joe
Truth’s elusive this I know
She knows EVERYTHING you’ve done
Stuff for spite and some for fun

She has more than one big sister
I suggest you date one mister
Luscious Evidence will show you
Family pics of Truth–you know you

Could do worse than date Deduce Me
More plot twists than I Love Lucy
You’ll be challenged to decide
If you want Truth by your side
Or for a bride
With Lies denied

One more sister makes things clearer
That is Truth’s twin sister Mirror
Gaze deep DEEP into her glass–
TRUTH–she’s HERE!!!
–to Kick your Ass.

Whoops.
Sorry.

****
Gary: Joe, you have captured an important aspect of Truth in your poem. I am grateful. And I hope you see, for all my clowning, an important bit of Truth in mine, mainly that showing an interest in phenomena related to Truth does bring us closer to Truth Herself.

Joe: Gary Bowers It just feels good to finally be writing again.

Gary: Joe, I would love to do a blog post on this exchange of ours. May I have your permission?

Joe: Sure. Post the link so I can read it.

Gary: Will do, my friend!
****
A couple of things before I go. First, Joe and many others in our group are suffering from writer’s block. I think the pandemic has something to do with it. So his comment about feeling good to be writing again is a hopeful sign to me.

Second, this is not the first instance in poetic history wherein one poem inspires another. Christopher “Kit” Marlowe wrote “The Passionate Shepherd to His Love” in the 16th Century. One year after it was published, none other than Sir Walter Raleigh wrote “The Nymph’s Reply to the Shepherd,” a fitting response (snub) to the Passionate Shepherd’s overtures (lusty). And in subsequent centuries other poets wrote poems inspired by the original, and in the 20th Century those two sly dogs Ogden Nash and Dorothy Parker both took a whack at it. So History is not by any means being made by Joe and me, but what matters to me is that the creative spark was ignited by Joe, and then I got ignited as well, for a pleasant journey to deeper digging.