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Jazzo's lovely "Poetry" thread prompts me to start two spin-off threads. I do so with some trepidation, unsure whether they will be of interest, but trusting that I will be forgiven if in error.
For this thread: In jazzo's thread many of us offered some of our favorite poems, and most of them are of serious tone. What are our favorite lighter poems (excluding epigrams and similar short quips, as that could be a whole 'nuther thread)? Particularly, poems that use their light tone to make a serious point -- perhaps even to freeze that point in one memorable, crystalline phrase.
One of my favorites, below (crystal phrase highlighted), sounds the same theme as the poem jazzo offered, Robert Frost's The Road Not Taken.
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The Calf-Path
by Sam Walter Foss
One day, through the primeval wood,
A calf walked home, as good calves should;
But made a trail all bent askew,
A crooked trail as all calves do.
Since then two hundred years have fled,
And, I infer, the calf is dead.
But still he left behind his trail,
And thereby hangs my moral tale.
The trail was taken up next day
By a lone dog that passed that way;
And then a wise bell-wether sheep
Pursued the trail o'er vale and steep,
And drew the flock behind him, too,
As good bell-wethers always do.
And from that day, o'er hill and glade,
Through those old woods a path was made;
And many men wound in and out,
And dodged, and turned, and bent about
And uttered words of righteous wrath
Because 'twas such a crooked path.
But still they followed---do not laugh---
The first migration of that calf,
And through this winding wood-way stalked,
Because he wobbled when he walked.
This forest path became a lane,
That bent, and turned, and turned again;
This crooked lane became a road,
Where many a poor horse with his load
Toiled on beneath the burning sun,
And traveled some three miles in one.
And thus a century and a half
They trod the footsteps of that calf.
The years passed on in swiftness fleet,
The road became a village street;
And this, before men were aware,
A city's crowded thoroughfare;
And soon the central street was this
Of a renowned metropolis;
And men two centuries and a half
Trod the footsteps of that calf.
Each day a hundred thousand rout
Followed the zigzag calf about;
And o'er his crooked journey went
The traffic of a continent.
A hundred thousand men were led
By one calf near three centuries dead.
They followed still his crooked his way,
And lost one hundred years a day;
For thus such reverence is lent
To well-established precedent.
A moral lesson this might teach,
Were I ordained and called to preach;
For men are prone to go it blind
Along the calf-paths of the mind,
And work away from sun to sun
To do what other men have done.
They follow in the beaten track,
And out and in, and forth and back,
And still there devious course pursue,
To keep the path that others do.
But how the wise old wood-gods laugh,
Who saw the first primeval calf!
Ah! many things this tale might teach---
But I am not ordained to preach.
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Carpal Tunnel
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Thanks for this one, Keiva! I've read at least one other poem in imitation of Frost that has long escaped me. It had something to do with a sump pump. Does anyone know this one? I'd love to have that one back in hand.
A note on Frost: He was embittered that he was never chosen for the Nobel prize. I'm a bit embittered myself on his behalf. He also is quoted as having admitted not to reading much poetry of others. I wonder whether this was just a writer's lie?
Beat regards,
WordWary
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Pooh-Bah
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Pooh-Bah
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Nice one, Keiva! and so true! Must take issue with the author,though -
... drew the flock behind him, too,
As good bell-wethers always do.- a wether is a sheep, not a ram! (Pedantry Rules OK  ) I have a number of "Comic and Curious" verses that appeal to me and which I would like to share, but I have not committed any of them perfectly to memory, so it will have to wait until I am back home among my reference books.
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at least one other poem in imitation of Frost
My apologies, Dub-Dub; I should have been clearer. Foss lived from 1858 to 1911. That is,
Foss pre-dates Frost.
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Carpal Tunnel
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NO SOY DE AQUI
Letra de Facundo Cabral
Musica de Facundo Cabral
Me gusta el sol, Alicia y las palomas,
el buen cigarro y la guitarra espanola,
saltar paredes y abrir las ventanas
y cuando llora una mujer.
No soy de aqui ni soy de alla
no tengo edad ni porvenir
y ser feliz es mi color de identidad.
Me gusta el vino tanto como las flores
y los conejos y los viejos pastores
el pan casero y la voz de Dolores
y el mar mojandome los pies.
No soy de aqui ni soy de alla
no tengo edad ni porvenir
y ser feliz es mi color de identidad.
Me gusta estar tirado siempre en la arena
o en bicicleta perseguir a Manuela
o todo el tiempo para ver las estrellas
con la Maria en el trigal.
No soy de aqui ni soy de alla
no tengo edad ni porvenir
y ser feliz es mi color de identidad.
Let's see how I do with the translation process.
I Am Not From Here
I like the sun, Alicia, and doves
A good cigar, and a Spanish guitar
Jumping over walls and opening the windows
And when a woman weeps.
I am not from here, nor am I from there
I have no past, nor future
Being happy is the color of my identity.
I like wine as much as I like flowers
And rabbits as well as old shepherds
Home made bread, and the voice of Dolores
And the ocean, lapping at my feet.
I am not from here, nor am I from there
I have no past, nor future
Being happy is the color of my identity.
I like to be always laying in the sand
Or riding a bicycle chasing after Manuela
Or have all the time in the world to look at stars
In the wheat field with Maria
I am not from here, nor am I from there
I have no past, nor future
Being happy is the color of my identity.
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Carpal Tunnel
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Great thread, Keiva! We should always give humor its due! And Frost, himself, was not shy of humor by the way. One of my favorite passages of his, which I often quote, is a stanza from Two Tramps in Mud Time. And in recordings of his readings I've heard he always milks this for a laugh, and gets one too! TWO TRAMPS IN MUD TIME3rd stanzaThe sun was warm but the wind was chill, You know how it is with an April day When the sun is out and the wind is still, You're one month on in the middle of May. But if you so much as dare to speak, A cloud comes over the sunlit arch, A wind comes off of a frozen peak, And you're two months back in the middle of March. And now some other tidbits: UNFORTUNATE COINCIDENCEby Dorothy Parker By the time you swear you're his, Shivering and sighing, And he vows his passion is Infinite, undying-- Lady, make a note of this: One of you is lying. ©1932 The New YorkerOn an even lighter vein: THE PURPLE COW
I never saw a Purple Cow;
I never Hope to See One;
But I can Tell you, Anyhow,
I'd rather See than Be One.
AH, YES, I WROTE THE "PURPLE COW'
Ah, yes, I wrote the "Purple Cow" --
I'm sorry, now, I Wrote it!
But I can Tell you, Anyhow,
I'll Kill you if you Quote it!
both by Gelette BurgessAnd could this be a transcription of some of our discussions on the board lately?  EletelephonyOnce there was an elephant, Who tried to use the telephant-- No! No! I mean an elephone Who tried to use the telephone-- (Dear me! I am not certain quite That even now I've got it right.) Howe'er it was, he got his trunk Entangled in the telephunk; The more he tried to get it free, The louder buzzed the telephee-- (I fear I'd better drop the song Of elephop and telephong!) by Laura E. Richards © 1936 by Laura E. Richards And, of course, Lewis Carrolls' Jabberwocky; Twinkle, Twinkle Little Bat; and Father William, among others. So well known to us that I don't think we need to take up thread space for them. 
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Carpal Tunnel
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Thanks, Keiva, for the clarification. This is the stuff good editors are made of.
Jetting to conclusions,
DubDub
PS: Still asking...Does anyone know the sump pump poem?
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Carpal Tunnel
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By the request of a certain enthusiatic entity hi Keiva I preface this with a blush-of-embarrassment-emoticon, and offer an answer to the Purple Cow credited to that late, great poet, --Anon.  AFTER READING MR. BURGESS
I never saw a Purple Cow,
I never hope to see one;
But from the milk we're getting now,
There certainly must be one.And couple more Dot Parker selections: RESUMÉRazors pain you; Rivers are damp; Acids stain you; And drugs cause cramp. Guns aren't lawful; Nooses give; Gas smells awful; You might as well live. EXPERIENCESome men break your heart in two, Some men fawn and flatter, Some men never look at you; And that cleans up the matter. Dorothy Parker©1932, 1933 by The New YorkerAttention!: The bogarting light is now lit!
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Carpal Tunnel
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solely to show that I'm paying attention, Whit! , here are two on the theme of women's clothing: -------------- Upon Julia's ClothesRobert Herrick 1591 - 1674Whenas in silks my Julia goes, Then, then, methinks, how sweeetly flows The liquification of her clothes! Next, when I cast mine eyes and see That brave vibration each way free, ~O how that glittering taketh me! -------------- and a long one, best cited by url: Nothing to Wear by William Allen Butler. 1825–1902. The poem's tone suddenly veers around line 300, to make a brutally direct point crystalized in the final line. http://www.bartleby.com/102/157.html A bit from the middle will serve as a foretaste: But I do mean to say, I have heard her declare, When at the same moment she had on a dress Which cost five hundred dollars, and not a cent less, And jewelry worth ten times more, I should guess, That she had not a thing in the wide world to wear!
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old hand
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old hand
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If you of exceptional intellect finally tire of the nit-picking and the cutting up of trucks and trifles, that we, the pedestrians of the board, inflict upon your exceptional sensibilities; And so you decide to quit this board and move to a mountain cabin where you will speak only to minor gods, assorted demons, and yourself. Then please leave us , the un deserving, in style, quote this poem by Dorothy Parker...
Sanctuary
My land is bare of chattering folk;
The clouds are low along the ridges,
And sweet's the air with curly smoke
From all my burning bridges.
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Carpal Tunnel
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Cutting up trucks and trifles, you say?
A habit of which I have come to be wary.
Nit-picking, yes, but fun also each day.
I love this Board--'tis my sanctuary.
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Carpal Tunnel
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Returning vertically to the lighter side: SIMILAR CASESCharlotte Perkins Stetson Gilman [1860-1935] who is herself worth a google, for example,
http://www.teaching.com/webstock/center/text/webstock12.htm There was once a little animal, / No bigger than a fox, And on five toes he scampered / Over Tertiary rocks. They called him Eohippus, / And they called him very small, And they thought him of no value - / When they thought of him at all; For the lumpish old Dinoceras / And Coryphodon so slow Were the heavy aristocracy / In days of long ago. Said the little Eohippus, / "I am going to be a horse! And on my middle finger-nails / To run my earthly course! I'm going to have a flowing tail! / I'm going to have a mane! I'm going to stand fourteen hands high / On the psychozoic plain!" The Coryphodon was horrified, / The Dinoceras was shocked; And they chased young Eohippus, / But he skipped away and mocked. And they laughed enormous laughter, / And they groaned enormous groans, And they bade young Eohippus / Go view his father's bones. Said they, "You always were as small / And mean as now we see, And that's conclusive evidence / That you're always going to be. What! Be a great, tall, handsome beast, / With hoofs to gallop on? Why! You'd have to change your nature!" / Said the Loxolophodon. They considered him disposed of, / And retired with gait serene; That was the way they argued / In "the early Eocene." There was once an Anthropoidal Ape, / Far smarter than the rest, And everything that they could do / He always did the best; So they naturally disliked him, / And they gave him shoulders cool, And when they had to mention him / They said he was a fool. Cried this pretentious Ape one day, / "I'm going to be a Man! And stand upright, and hunt, and fight, / And conquer all I can! I'm going to cut down forest trees, / To make my houses higher! I'm going to kill the Mastodon! / I'm going to make a fire!" Loud screamed the Anthropoidal Apes / With laughter wild and gay; They tried to catch that boastful one, / But he always got away. So they yelled at him in chorus, / Which he minded not a whit; And they pelted him with cocoanuts, / Which didn't seem to hit. And then they gave him reasons / Which they thought of much avail, To prove how his preposterous / Attempt was sure to fail. Said the sages, "In the first place, / The thing cannot be done! And, second, if it could be, / It would not be any fun! And, third, and most conclusive, / And admitting no reply, You would have to change your nature! / We should like to see you try!" They chuckled then triumphantly, / These lean and hairy shapes, For these things passed as arguments / With the Anthropoidal Apes. There was once a Neolithic Man, / An enterprising wight, Who made his chopping implements / Unusually bright. Unusually clever he, / Unusually brave, And he drew delightful Mammoths / On the borders of his cave. To his Neolithic neighbors, / Who were startled and surprised, Said he, "My friends, in course of time, / We shall be civilized! We are going to live in cities! / We are going to fight in wars! We are going to eat three times a day / Without the natural cause! We are going to turn life upside down / About a thing called gold! We are going to want the earth, and take / As much as we can hold! We are going to wear great piles of stuff / Outside our proper skins! We are going to have diseases! / And Accomplishments!! And Sins!!!" Then they all rose up in fury / Against their boastful friend, For prehistoric patience / Cometh quickly to an end. Said one, "This is chimerical! / Utopian! Absurd!" Said another, "What a stupid life! / Too dull, upon my word!" Cried all, "Before such things can come, / You idiotic child, You must alter Human Nature!" / And they all sat back and smiled. Thought they, "An answer to that last / It will be hard to find!" It was a clinching argument / To the Neolithic Mind!
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Carpal Tunnel
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Great, Keiva! And keeping sorta on the same theme : A CAUTION TO EVERYBODY by Ogden Nash Consider the auk; Becoming extinct because he forgot how to fly, and could only walk. Consider man, who may well become extinct Because he forgot how to walk and learned how to fly before he thinked. And does this ring anybody's bell? : THE ASP Whenever I behold an asp, I can't suppress a startled gasp, I do not charge the asp with matricide, But what about her Cleopatricide? Ogden NashAnd for "someone" with an April birthday : ALWAYS MARRY AN APRIL GIRL Praise the spells and bless the charms, I found April in my arms, April golden, April cloudy, Gracious, cruel, tender, rowdy; April soft in flowered languor, April cold with sudden anger, Ever changing, ever true-- I love April, I love you. Ogden NashREFLECTION ON INGENUITY Here's a good rule of thumb; Too clever is dumb. Ogden NashAll poems © 1948 by Ogden Nash l
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