Ogden Nash

(August 19, 1902 – May 19, 1971 / New York / United States)

Comments about Ogden Nash

  • Dr. Dingleberries (2/20/2018 1:42:00 PM)

    These are worse than the dingleberries hanging from your bottom.

    10 person liked.
    16 person did not like.
  • dr.poppypants (2/20/2018 11:18:00 AM)

    i hate poetry
    545454545452222222222222222222222222222222

  • mr. cupcakes (2/20/2018 8:59:00 AM)

    your mom. is that right

  • Lynn geer (1/18/2018 9:22:00 AM)

    Here comes me in my brand new car. Who knows this one

  • Stephen M. Marson, Ph.D. (1/14/2018 11:42:00 AM)

    Nash had a line in one of his poems that included the idea that if he had a million dollars he would write a book and with the million he would buy all his books concluding that he would be rich living off the royalies and he would have a bunch of really good books. Anyone know the poem?

  • Arthur Panaro (12/23/2017 12:24:00 PM)

    Ogden included in a poem a play on the word gorgonzola.... who knows this one?

  • Will S. (12/16/2017 3:39:00 PM)

    Question. There's a poem about cocktails. One verse is... There's something a bout a martini...
    ...It may be the vermouth, but to tell you the truth I think it's the gin. Or something like that.
    Does anyone know the name of the poem, or that verse?

  • Betty (11/13/2017 1:23:00 PM)

    I was taught a Nash poem many years ago, I thought was called November:
    No morn
    no noon
    no night
    no noon
    November.
    Has anyone ever heard it before?

  • hhhzyehd (11/10/2017 1:10:00 PM)

    Juajesmee

    Jsuejusjejwjjsjsjje

  • Embee Cee (10/2/2016 4:44:00 PM)

    From _Many Long Years Ago: _

    THE PARTY

    Come Arabella, fetch the cake,
    On a dish with silver handles.
    Oh mercy! Feel the table shake!
    Lucinda, light the candles.
    For Mr. Migg is thir-ty,
    Is thir- ty,
    Is thir- -ty.
    The years are crawling over him
    Like wee red ants.
    Oh, three times ten is thir-ty,
    Is for- ty,
    Is fif- -ty.
    The further off from England
    The nearer is to France.

    The little flames they bob and jig,
    The dining hall is breezy.
    Quick! puff your candles, Mr. Migg,
    The little flames die easy.
    For Mr. Migg is for-ty,
    Is for- ty,
    Is for- -ty.
    The years are crawling over him
    Like wee red ants.
    Oh, four times ten is for-ty,
    Is fif- ty,
    Is six- -ty,
    And creeping through the icing,
    The other years advance.

    Why Arabella, here's a ring!
    Lucinda, here's a thimble!
    For Mr. Migg there's not a thing-
    'Tis not, I trust, a symbol!
    For Mr. Migg is fif-ty,
    Is fif- ty,
    Is fif- -ty.
    The years are crawling over him
    Like wee red ants.
    Oh, five times ten is fif-ty,
    Is six- ty,
    Is seven- -ty.
    Lucinda, put the cake away.
    We're going to the dance.

Best Poem of Ogden Nash

A Word To Husbands

To keep your marriage brimming
With love in the loving cup,
Whenever you’re wrong, admit it;
Whenever you’re right, shut up.

Read the full of A Word To Husbands

à Bas Ben Adhem

My fellow man I do not care for.
I often ask me, What's he there for?
The only answer I can find
Is, Reproduction of his kind.
If I'm supposed to swallow that,
Winnetka is my habitat.
Isn't it time to carve Hic Jacet
Above that Reproduction racket?

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