There was a wealth of well-wishers for the omnivalent Ogden with a correspondingly larger number of winners than usual, or in one case double winner, among a varied entry. Katie Mallett issued a warning to Nash parodists that their efforts at word manipulation/Might produce less wit than excruciation, while Julia Griffin observed that the maestro’s unmetered but ingeniously or outrageously rhymed long line short line mode looks easy to do, but isn’t. Some element in the recipe eludes us, but its’s fun trying to find it.
With thanks to all who took part in the quest, below, in no particular order, are the entries that most warmed the cockles of the judge’s stony heart.
Mike Mesterton-Gibbons: The Okapi
Okapis flashing zebra rumps
In wildlife photographs
Have necks so short, they're scarcely stumps—
So how are they giraffes?
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
Michael Swan: Spam Yesterday, Scam Today
Many of us receive emails offering erotic delights
or untold riches,
And their English often has us in stitches,
As in for instance "I can do for you is, what can
not no girl".
And you might even think, "Why not give it a whirl?"
But trust me, it would be astuter
To back off now and shut down your computer.
Because the lady will no doubt require payment of
a modest amount,
And by transferring this you will let her confederates
into your bank account,
So while you are salivating over her picture,
You are getting poorer and poorer and they are getting
richer and richer.
Indeed, with a simple click of the mouse,
You may easily have signed over to them the title
to your house,
Or in the worst case, such is the extent of their villainy,
skullduggery and knavery,
You have authorised them to sell your wife and children
into slavery,.
So when you are invited online to embrace a new experience,
however life-enhancing and important,
Take my advice: you probably oughtn't.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
Martin Parker: That's Life!
From spermery to wormery
via germery and Infirmary.
Once you’re conceived
the gloom is pretty much unrelieved.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
Julia Griffin: Nashtiche Not In Time
I thought I would try my hand at a stanza or so
of Ogden Nashery,
A genre of which I seem to have memorized
a considerable stashery.
It’s hard to believe he’s 50 years gone,
While his bending and blending still keep on
and on and on and on and on.
I thought this would be as easy as falling off a,
well, fairly smooth, round log;
But it seems that what makes me agog, with Og,
Is more than just rhyming sans scanning, so this
attempt turns out to have been altogether rash.
And therefore all I can do is grit my teeth, or
grind them, or occasionally gnashe.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
Steven Kent: A Twist Of Nash
Ogden Nash
Earned his cash
Every time
Slinging rhyme
With a twist.
Greatly missed.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
Michael Swan: Break It Gently
Sometimes I put on one sock and lose track of what
I was supposed to do next,
And there is more and more of this sort of thing,
and I am somewhat perplexed.
I have always been moderately scatter-brained
But now I am becoming positively mad-hatter-brained,
Like when for instance I give my plant fish food and
water the goldfish.
And I find myself asking, is this just because I’m
getting oldish
Or, if I wonder whether Beowulf was written by
Virgil or Ovid,
Could it be due to something else, like Covid?
That is well-known to produce brain fog,
Which may be why I can’t recall the name of my dentist
or the breed of my dog.
But – a more terrifying thought – am I getting that condition
that has a z in it,
And an h, and several other letters that I will remember
in a minute?
I really need to know whether my current descending spiral
Is simply due to factors age-related or viral,
Or – break it gently, please –
Does it portend the dreaded What’s-his-name’s disease?
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
Bob Newman: Four Nashesque Animal Poems
The Giraffe
The giraffe
Needs a pretty long scarf
But it won’t wear the mitts
Its grandmother knits.
The Leopard
The leopard
Has a pelt that’s peppered
With lots and lots
Of unchangeable spots.
The Thompson’s Gazelle
The Thompson’s gazelle
Has a fine sense of smell.
Out there on the veldt
There is much to be smelt.
The Waterbuck
Waterbuck
Never had much luck.
With a target on their bottom,
No wonder people shot ‘em.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
Daniel Galef: Untitled
If there’s anyone out there who should pique your suspicion,
It’s someone telling you how to eat who goes by ‘nutritionist’
instead of ‘dietitian.’
I’d sooner take my aching corns to a pod-person rather than
a podiatrist
Than lie on a moth-eaten leather couch and put my mind in
the hands of a ‘therapist’ rather than a ‘psychiatrist.’
Unless you’re a certified geologist, I wouldn’t trust you to tell
the difference between a stone and rock,
And I certainly wouldn’t let you straighten my spine unless I’m
legally correct in calling you ‘Doc.’
Without those pertinent postnominals, something beyond the
Bachelor's and the Master's, I would at the very least demand
to quiz you thoroughly on your purported field of study and
pay for your services only on the condition that you have
proven yourself a satisfactory interviewee.
I.e., I’m going to give you the third degree.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
John Wood: Ermine or vermin?
Weasels and stoats
Are much confused creatures
With comparable coats
And ferrety features.
For the avoidance of doubt
And to distinguish them easily:
The stoat is more stout
And the weasel more weaselly.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
L. A. Mereoie: Herbal Intelligence
Consequences unhappy and much to be regretted
Can flow from remarks to car-sharing companions
whose talents you have not thoroughly plumbed
and vetted.
You are driving along with a smile and a song
and casually say, ‘That red stuff in the hedge is
dovesfoot cranesbill', and one replies loud and clear,
'Oh no it isn't, it's red campion, it's by far the
commonest flower around here’,
And, as your urge to edify and instruct crawls
away into a dark corner of your mind and dies,
Her sister adds that it comes from a family some of
whose members have sticky stems to catch flies,
And you find this second pronouncement that your
cranesbill is certainly not
* * * and . . .
The knowledge of the knowledgeable being rather
like murder and elbows, which both will out,
A wise person sticks neither neck nor bill out.
So there is at least one proposition on which
I would risk any number of shirts –
In future I shall refrain from bandying worts.
