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Weekly poetry thread

Aunt Dora Baggins
Half-elven


Feb 7 2013, 4:34pm

Post #1 of 6 (214 views)
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Weekly poetry thread Can't Post

This week I'm going with Ogden Nash again. I've always thought the first two stanzas of this poem were perfect, and the second two didn't really add anything. But I'm putting them all here because I couldn't find this poem anywhere on the Internet, and I thought it should be somewhere.

For some reason, Jonathan Jukes reminds me a bit of Silneldor ;-)

Tell it to the Esquimaux
By Ogden Nash

Jonathan Jukes if full of health,
And he doesnít care who knows it.
Others may exercise by stealth,
But he with a cry of Prosit!
Others put up with coated tongues,
And shoulders narrow and droopy;
Jonathan overinflates his lungs
With a thundering shout of Whoopee!
Jonathanís noise is healthy noise,
Jonathanís joys are healthy joys,
Jonathan shuns the primrose path,
And starts the day with an icy bath.

I might forgive the super-physique
Contained in the Jukes apparel;
The apple glowing in either check;
The chest like an oyster barrel;
The muscles that flow like a mountain stream,
The result of applied eugenics;
The rigorous diet, the stern regime
Of arduous calisthenics;
I can pardon most of the healthy joys,
I can pardon most of the healthy noise,
But Heaven itself no pardon hath
For the man who boasts of an icy bath.

If the Missing Links were vigorous chaps
And their manly deeds were myriad,
Must civilization then relapse
Back to the glacial period?
Humanity learns at a fearful price;
Must the lessons all be lost?
Does the locomotive feed on ice?
Is the liner propelled by frost?

One constant truth mankind has found
Through fire and flood and slaughter:
The thing that makes the wheels go round
Is plenty of good hot water.
And therefore, therefore, Jonathan Jukes,
You deserve the harshest of harsh rebukes;
You and your frigid daily bath
Are blocking civilizationís path.
You think of yourself as Spartan and spunky?
So, Jonathan, is the old brass monkey.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"For DORA BAGGINS in memory of a LONG correspondence, with love from Bilbo; on a large wastebasket. Dora was Drogo's sister, and the eldest surviving female relative of Bilbo and Frodo; she was ninety-nine, and had written reams of good advice for more than half a century."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"A Chance Meeting at Rivendell" and other stories

leleni at hotmail dot com
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



Radagast-Aiwendil
Gondor


Feb 7 2013, 6:57pm

Post #2 of 6 (94 views)
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Interesting poem [In reply to] Can't Post

Nothing particular to add, but I've set myself the task of reading the epic poem Beowulf, and hopefully by the next weekly poetry thread I'll be able to talk about it.

"These are Gundabad Wargs! They will outrun you!"

"THESE are Rhosgobel Rabbits! I'd like to see them try...."



Aunt Dora Baggins
Half-elven


Feb 7 2013, 7:12pm

Post #3 of 6 (91 views)
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Cool! [In reply to] Can't Post

I read Beowulf a few years ago (couldn't believe it took me 50 years to get around to it). I was particularly struck by some stuff near the end that seemed to have worked its way into The Hobbit, but I won't spoil it for you. :-)


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"For DORA BAGGINS in memory of a LONG correspondence, with love from Bilbo; on a large wastebasket. Dora was Drogo's sister, and the eldest surviving female relative of Bilbo and Frodo; she was ninety-nine, and had written reams of good advice for more than half a century."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"A Chance Meeting at Rivendell" and other stories

leleni at hotmail dot com
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



arithmancer
Grey Havens

Feb 7 2013, 8:00pm

Post #4 of 6 (109 views)
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Love Ogden Nash, and hot water! [In reply to] Can't Post

My immediate reaction to your post was, those last 2 stanzas are so right, though Tolkien may have said it better. Smile

Sing hey! For the bath at close of day
that washes the weary mud away
A loon is he that will not sing
O! Water Hot is a noble thing!

O! Sweet is the sound of falling rain,
and the brook that leaps from hill to plain;
but better then rain or rippling streams
is Water Hot that smokes and steams.

O! Water cold we may pour at need
down a thirsty throat and be glad indeed
but better is beer if drink we lack,
and Water Hot poured down the back.

O! Water is fair that leaps on high
in a fountain white beneath the sky;
but never did fountain sound so sweet
as splashing Hot Water with my feet!


Aunt Dora Baggins
Half-elven


Feb 7 2013, 9:15pm

Post #5 of 6 (87 views)
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Hee! I thought of the Bath Song too :-) // [In reply to] Can't Post

 


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"For DORA BAGGINS in memory of a LONG correspondence, with love from Bilbo; on a large wastebasket. Dora was Drogo's sister, and the eldest surviving female relative of Bilbo and Frodo; she was ninety-nine, and had written reams of good advice for more than half a century."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"A Chance Meeting at Rivendell" and other stories

leleni at hotmail dot com
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



silneldor
Half-elven


Feb 8 2013, 12:53am

Post #6 of 6 (234 views)
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'Tis not true [In reply to] Can't Post

I love the Primrose path, i do Wink

Aunt Dora Baggins, you rascal, you have me down to a TEE. 'cept i am no es-kee-mo!. BUT i have information that in days of yore, i hear tell that Uncle Baggins took this shot of you.. And in turn you took one of him exclaiming,What a pane! having lost his beard in the processWink

But there were 'situations' for my part, putting docks in and out, and cold swims, training early in the season ( thank Eru for wetsuits).

I have three poems. Two of them, (written by triathletes) and from what was related above, sets the third up to a TEE, for all of us i will add i am sure, especially for those the perambulate the alpine trails LaughWink

Tri-mantra (to be hissed or groaned at any unfriendly hill)
In my world,
The water is cold,
The wind is hard,
And the road never ends.

In my world,
There are no losers.
Only competitors
still on their way,
And spectators
waiting to be inspired.

In my world,
Victory is not weighed in gold,
But in determination and courage.

In my world,
There are no boundaries,
No limits,
There is no end.
Every day is the last day of my life,
And the first.

In my world,
The word "can't" does not exist,
And nothing is impossible.

by Olivier Blanchard
Greenville, SC

The Song of the Ungirt Runners

We swing ungirded hips,
And lightened are our eyes,
The rain is on our lips,
We do not run for prize.
We know not whom we trust
Nor whitherward we fare,
But we run because we must
Through the great wide air.

The waters of the seas
Are troubled as by storm.
The tempest strips the trees
And does not leave them warm.
Does the tearing tempest pause?
Do the tree-tops ask it why?
So we run without a cause
'Neath the big bare sky.

The rain is on our lips,
We do not run for prize.
But the storm the water whips
And the wave howls to the skies.
The winds arise and strike it
And scatter it like sand,
And we run because we like it
Through the broad bright land.

Charles Hamilton Sorley

Bath-Song by J R R Tolkien

Sing hey! For the bath at close of day
that washes the weary mud away
A loon is he that will not sing
O! Water Hot is a noble thing!

O! Sweet is the sound of falling rain,
and the brook that leaps from hill to plain;
but better than rain or rippling streams
is Water Hot that smokes and steams.

O! Water cold we may pour at need
down a thirsty throat and be glad indeed
but better is beer if drink we lack,
and Water Hot poured down the back.

O! Water is fair that leaps on high
in a fountain white beneath the sky;
but never did fountain sound so sweet
as splashing Hot Water with my feet!














 
 

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