Best Nash Poems
The Following is the poem "Lama" by Ogden Nash
The one l - lama
He's a priest.
The two l - llama
He's a beast.
And I will bet
A silk pajama
There isn't any
Three - L lllama.
My version of the lines Nash missed.
But Mr. Nash
I must insist
On an addition
To your list.
The three l - lllama's
Clang and din
Brings cries of “Fire!”
In Brooklyn.
Yes I should be publicly flogged in a poetry forum! An old joke but still a good one.
I revere the witty verse of Ogden Nash,
Whose versifications are so waggish and brash!
His work elicited from the masses many a guffaw.
Alas, he met his doom after consuming infected slaw!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
The following is me paraphrasing,
John Nash,
one of the most brilliant, amazing,
Nobel Prize winning mathematicians;
"My whole life has been numbers of varied equations,
searching for answers to problems and their solutions,
and in summation I have come to this ultimate conclusion,
It Is Only Through The Equation Of Love
That Truly Gives Our Lives Any Meaning,
whether that love be for someone or for some thing."
Ogden Nash penned these two lines
‘How odd of God
to choose the Jews’
My reply across the times
‘God would never choose
~ a people who would lose’
Honorable, legendary civil rights pioneer, Diane Nash
A cherished treasure that can't be purchased with cash
A great American. An enduring heroine to the nation
Her fierce activism helped end racial segregation
Date written 11/17/2022
. . . . . . . The genius of theory ~
HALF AGAIN IS ~ TWICE AS MUCH
AS THE FIRST PART!
Have a good year ~ the last half!!!
Nor a lovely form, nor a relevant content, nor sophisticated writing technique. Goosebumps, a cool wave along the spine, a flash of pleasure and the pleasure's aftertaste - a strange feeling akin to a guilty conscience of the handworker who, after a sweet fight with himself, swears "never again!" - that's a true sign of good literature. Oh, the sweet dawn of my studying English! I remember I felt like that when I first met Ogden Nash:
you shake and shake the
ketchup bottle nothing comes
and then a lot’ll*
* as cited in Americana, English-Russian Encyclopedic Dictionary, Poligramma, 1996
10.11.2019
Goosebumps Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Delilah Ventura
I twice shortchanged Warren one of the two “t”s in Buffett. I found Ogden Nash did a fine job with double letters in "The Lama".
That inspired me to write, in apology for slighting Mr. Buffett:
The Buffet
The one-t buffet,
That's a punch,
Or a place to
Have your lunch.
The two-t Buffett?
He never knew
A fiscal crunch.
And I will bet
A silken tuffet
There isn't any
Three-t buffettt. *
--- Oliver Klosov
* The author regrets that he cannot duplicate
Ogden Nash's final “groaner” re a “three-t buffettt” . Pooh.
If that's not enough it will have to do. (heh heh)
Ogden Nash would often dash
A poem off in a flash
But too many words
Killed too many birds
And often wound up in the trash
He was surely amusing
But sometimes confusing
Some words I would look up
In order to hook up
Without winding up losing
Poem I Prepared Reminded Me of Ogden Nash
Rhinoceros may be related to hippopotamus;
Synonymous and anonymous in a metropolis;
Both together do live;
Each other bath give;
Thought appeared to be purely preposterous.
Have you been laughing yet,
Read my poem with regret;
Live in rafter,
Or hereafter;
A moron like me have met.
What you did do was dubious
Matter becoming mischievous;
Handle with care;
Even when bare,
And to fact are now oblivious.
Jim Horn
Need A Bash with Frost and Nash
While through ocean some smooth whale sails
Can people count all of the protruding scales
When whale so wisely went swimming by;
Have you ever seen one when ha was dry?
God granted a whale with a big, long tail
So swimming is be easy and never did fail
To find his way wherever he eventually goes;
If he's not a she should not say there she blows.
What if things were to require a confession
To God so He can answer our every question
And what if whale landed in my clean room
Would this make my mother fuss and fume.
James Truly Hilarious Thesarious Horn
Retired Veteran
A dash and small splash of Nash or why
does a hit have to many things smash?
NATURE based on the Portrait No. 2 of Carol Nye Rhoades (Robinson) by Kathrine Nash Rhoades (1915) – (Edited by Debbi Guzzi
My feet, my feet chilled to the bone,
as I sit, sitting here alone.
Sharpening itself, the wind embraced,
Slicing a piece of me, starting at my face,
Think not of cold, only hot, I say.
Now, I can’t move, can’t move, can’t you see,
the coldness of the wind’s gotten the best of me.
The frameless skies at my back,
embraces me for more of to come
as Winter will turn to Spring.
My feet, my feet aching to the bone
as I sit, sitting here alone.
THIS ENDING WAS INADVERTENTLY OMITTED WHEN SUBMITTED (NOT EDITED)
Sharpening itself, the storm embraced,
Slicing a piece of me, starting at my face,
Think not of wet, only dry.
Now I can’t move, can’t move, can’t you see,
The influence of the storm’s gotten the best of me;
A new season calls once again, Winter to Spring, then Summer to Fall, everlasting love on my face bares it all.
St. Peter was checking out some people coming from earth to heaven. He
does not recognize two of them and asks for identification. We are great
poets from earth and should be easily recognized.
St. Peter wanted some further identification and challenges them.
If you're such great poets. let me hear you form a poem that rhymes with "Timbuktu".
The poets pondered the situation for a moment until finally Robert Frost
spoke first.
"With such little time, I can only come up with this....". He then continues.
"Started walking along the sandy shore. I had heard the the ocean's loud
roar. A floating ship came into full view. Port of call was Timbuktu."
St. Peter was impressed and allowed Frost access through the gates.
Ogden Nash experiences a slight period of silence. He finally spoke up.
"Okay - this is also rush job, but here goes...."
"Tim and I, a hike on went, We spied three ladies in a tent. Since they
were three women and we were two, I married one and am down to my
last buck. Tim did buck system and for himself then took the other two."
Tim's real name was Trump. We were tipping through the Trump tulips
and he got mad. Will Rogers is my other favorite poet/writer.
Jim Horn
It's too bad he left this earth in 1971.
I believe knowing him would have been a lot of fun.
He was born in Rye, New York, but moved frequently.
Baltimore was where he had his longest residency.
He was a panelist on the game show "Masquerade Party"
Ogden proved to write with great ability.
His collections of poems are absolutely fabulous.
So many of them are entertaining and humorous.
They have been saved and preserved for all of us.
This was a poet who really liked to rhyme.
That's what I like to do most of the time.
I thank wikipedia.org for valuable information I obtained to write this poem.
NATURE by Jeanette Jones based on the Portrait No. 2 of Carol Nye Rhoades (Robinson) by Kathrine Nash Rhoades (1915)
NATURE
My feet, my feet chilled to the bone,
as I sit, sitting here alone.
Sharpening itself, the wind embraced;
slicing a piece of me, starting at my face.
Think not of cold, only hot, I say.
Now, I can’t move, can’t move, can’t you see;
the coldness of the wind’s gotten the best of me.
The ambiances of skies at my back
cautions me for more is to come
as Winter will turn to Spring.
My feet, my feet aching to the bone
as I sit, sitting here alone.
Sharpening itself, the storm embraced;
Slicing a piece of me, starting at my face.
Think not of wet, only dry.
Now I can’t move, can’t move, can’t you see;
the influence of the storm’s gotten the best of me;
A new season calls once again, Winter to Spring,
then Summer to Fall; everlasting love,
my face bares it all.