Category Archives: humor

On the vanity of earthly greatness.

history, humor, poetry, , , , ,
Charlemagne, by Albrecht Dürer

ON THE VANITY OF EARTHLY GREATNESS

The tusks that clashed in mighty brawls
Of mastodons, are billiard balls.

The sword of Charlemagne the Just
Is ferric oxide, known as rust.

The grizzly bear whose potent hug
Was feared by all, is now a rug.

Great Caesar’s bust is on my shelf,
And I don’t feel so well myself.

-Arthur Guiterman

This is a fun poem. The poet joined the theme by embarking on his own transformation to dust some time back. I also like these other lines he wrote, on changes he saw happening around him:

New motor roads are dustless,
The latest steel is rustless,
Our tennis courts are sodless,
Our new religions—godless.

Guiterman in 1932

 

I’m sure that countless swords that have been swung through the ages are pretty rusty by now, but I happened to see this article about the Frankish king’s most famous sword, “Joyeuse” — and that one is not rust yet, because it has been preserved in the Louvre for many generations. Has any of you seen it?

You and I, we do not shrink.

humor, poetry, weather,

When I was in the Midwest recently I enjoyed watching through big windows the rainstorms with lightning and thunder. I don’t understand this poem’s title — can anyone explain it to me?  I did find the whole thing fun to read. But then, I’ve never experienced a hurricane.

A WATCHED EXAMPLE NEVER BOILS

The weather is so very mild
That some would call it warm.
Good gracious, aren’t we lucky, child?
Here comes a thunderstorm.

The sky is now indelible ink,
The branches reft asunder;
But you and I, we do not shrink;
We love the lovely thunder.

The garden is a raging sea,
The hurricane is snarling;
Oh happy you and happy me!
Isn’t the lightning darling?

Fear not the thunder, little one.
It’s weather, simply weather;
It’s friendly giants full of fun
Clapping their hands together.

I hope of lightning our supply
Will never be exhausted;
You know it’s lanterns in the sky
For angels who are losted.

We love the kindly wind and hail,
The jolly thunderbolt,
We watch in glee the fairy trail
Of ampere, watt, and volt.

Oh, than to enjoy a storm like this
There’s nothing I would rather.
Don’t dive beneath the blankets, Miss!
Or else leave room for Father.

-Ogden Nash

They’d embrace like parallel lines.

humor, poetry, ,

JOHN & MARY

John & Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.
………–From a Freshman’s Short Story

They were like gazelles who occupied different
grassy plains, running in opposite directions
from different lions. They were like postal clerks
in different zip codes, with different vacation time,
their bosses adamant and clock-driven.
How could they get together?
They were like two people who couldn’t get together.
John was a Sufi with a love of the dervish,
Mary of course a Christian with a curfew.
They were like two dolphins in the immensity
of the Atlantic, one playful,
the other stuck in a tuna net —
two absolutely different childhoods!
There was simply no hope for them.
They would never speak in person.
When they ran across that windswept field
toward each other, they were like two freight trains,
one having left Seattle at 6:36 p.m.
at an unknown speed, the other delayed
in Topeka for repairs.
The math indicated that they’d embrace
in another world, if at all, like parallel lines.
Or merely appear kindred and close, like stars.

-Stephen Dunn