Tag Archives: Ogden Nash

My Current State of Life…in Poetry

23 Mar

Introspective Reflection
by Ogden Nash

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

The Far-Sighted Muse
by Dorothy Parker
from Not Much Fun: The Lost Poems of Dorothy Parker

Dark though the clouds, they are silver-lined;
         (This is the stuff that they like to read.)
If Winter comes, Spring is right behind;
         (This is the stuff that the people need.)
Smile, and the World will smile back at you;
         Aim with a grin, and you cannot miss;
Laugh off your woes, and you won’t feel blue.
         (Poetry pays when it’s done like this.)

Whatever it is, is completely sweet;
         (This is the stuff that will bring in gold.)
Just to be living’s a perfect treat;
         (This is the stuff that will knock them cold.)
How could we, any of us, be sad?
         Always our blessings outweighing our ills;
Always there’s something to make us glad.
        (This is the way you can pay your bills.)

Everything’s great, in this good old world;
        (This is the stuff they can always use.)
God’s in His heaven, the hill’s dew-pearled;
        (This will provide for the baby’s shoes.)
Hunger and War, do not mean a thing;
        Everything’s rosey, where’er we roam;
Hark, how the little birds gaily sing!
        (This is what fetches the bacon home.)

It Couldn’t Be Done
Edgar Albert Guest

Somebody said that it couldn’t be done,
But he with a chuckle replied
That “maybe it couldn’t,” but he would be one
Who wouldn’t say so ‘til he’d tried.
So he buckled right in with the trace of a grin
On his face. If he worried he hid it.
He started to sing as he tackled the thing
That couldn’t be done, and he did it.

Somebody scoffed: “Oh, you’ll never do that;
At least no one ever has done it;”
But he took off his coat and he took off his hat,
And the first thing we knew he’d begun it.
With a lift of his chin and a bit of a grin,
Without any doubting or quiddit,
He started to sing as he tackled the thing
That couldn’t be done, and he did it.

There are thousands to tell you it cannot be done,
There are thousands to prophesy failure;
There are thousands to point out to you, one by one,
The dangers that wait to assail you.
But just buckle in with a bit of a grin,
Just take off your coat and go to it;
Just start to sing as you tackle the thing
That “cannot be done,” and you’ll do it.

Obviously, none of these poems are mine. Today just felt like a day where someone else could say (and rhyme)  it better. I’ll be back with my own words soon, but who couldn’t use some poetry in the middle of the week?

How are you poetically feeling today?