When asked the difference between parallel and perpendicular, a cow-orker reeled off the following:
When days were old, and knights were bold,
And ladies weren’t particular
They threw them up against the wall
And did them perpendicular
“that marks the first place in The House at Pooh Corner at which Tonstant Weader Fwowed up.’”
- Dorothy Parker (another of my favourites)
Birdie, birdie in the sky
Drop a poopie in my eye
I’m not mad
And I’m not sad
I’m just glad that cows can’t fly!
A fav. from my school days -
Homework! Oh, homework!
I hate you! You stink!
I wish I could wash you
away in the sink,
if only a bomb
would explode you to bits.
Homework! Oh, homework!
You’re giving me fits.
by Jack Prelutsky
There is one I think by Byron about Mothers and Daughters I’ve always enjoyed but I can’t find it.
These are wonderful! I’m copying them down. Thank you thank you thank you.
ELETELEPHONY
by Laura E. Richards
Once 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!!!)
When Father Carves the Duck
We all look on with anxious eyes
When father carves the duck,
And mother almost always sighs
When father carves the duck;
Then all of us prepare to rise,
And hold our bibs before our eyes,
And be prepared for some surprise,
When father carves the duck.
He braces up and grabs a fork
Whene’er he carves a duck,
And won’t allow a soul to talk
Until he’s carved the duck.
The fork is jabbed into the sides,
Across the breast the knife he slides,
While every careful person hides
From flying chips of duck.
The platter’s always sure to slip
When father carves a duck,
And how it makes the dishes skip!
Potatoes fly amuck!
The squash and cabbage leap in space,
We get some gravy in our face,
And father mutters a Hindoo grace
Whene’er he carves a duck.
We then have learned to walk around
The dining room and pluck
From off the window-sills and walls
Our share of father’s duck.
While father growls and blows and jaws
And swears the knife was full of flaws,
And mother laughs at him because
He couldn’t carve a duck.
~By E. V. Wright
and another Nashism
The Purist
I give you now Professor Twist,
A conscientious scientist,
Trustees exclaimed, “He never bungles!”
And sent him off to distant jungles.
Camped on a tropic riverside,
One day he missed his loving bride.
She had, the guide informed him later,
Been eaten by an alligator.
Professor Twist could not but smile.
“You mean,” he said, “a crocodile.”
To his club-footed son said Lord Stipple,
as he poured his post-prandial tipple:
“Your mother’s behavior
gave pains to Our Savior,
and that’s why God made you a cripple.”
I love Edward Gorey.
As a member of a fraternal organization, I’ve heard all the stories about “riding the goat” at your initiation. Here’s a poem from 1901 from the site http://www.elks.org :
*When Father Rode the Goat.
The house is full of arnica
And mystery profound;
We do not dare to run about
Or make the slightest sound;
We leave the big piano shut
And do not strike a note;
The doctor’s been here seven times
Since father rode the goat.
He joined the lodge a week ago –
Got in at 4 a.m.
And sixteen brethren brought him home
Though he says he brought them.
His wrist WAS sprained and one big rip,
Had rent his Sunday coat –
There must have been a lively time
When father rode the goat.
He’s resting on the couch to-day!
And practicing his signs –
The hailing signal, working grip,
And other monkeyshines;
He mutters passwords ‘neath his breath,
And other things he’ll quote –
They surely had an evening’s work
When father rode the goat.
He has a gorgeous uniform,
All gold and red and blue;
A bat with plunges and yellow braid,
And golden badges too.
But, somehow, when we mention it,
He wears a look so grim
We wonder if he rode the goat
Or if the goat rode him.
*
Lewis Caroll wrote many amusing poems. Here is one of my favorites (too long to quote here, please click the link).
William Topaz McGonagall - “Glasgows best-remembered nobody”
I looked for ages to choose from the works of the wannabe Poet Laureate but this is one of the better (worst?) ones:
A Tale Of The Sea
A Pathetic tale of the sea I will unfold,
Enough to make one’s blood run cold;
Concerning four fishermen cast adrift in a dory.
As I’ve been told I’ll relate the story.
T’was on the 8th April on the afternoon of that day
That the village of Louisburg was thrown into a wild state or dismay,
And the villagers flew to the beach in a state of wild uproar
And in a dory they found four men were cast ashore.
Then the villagers, in surprise assembled about the dory,
And they found that the bottom of the boat was gory;
Then their hearts were seized with sudden dread,
when they discovered that two of the men were dead.
And the two survivors were exhausted from exposure, hunger, and cold,
Which used the spectators to shudder when them they did behold;
And with hunger the poor men couldn’t stand on their feet,
They felt so weakly on their legs for want of meat.
They were carried to a boarding-house without delay,
But those that were looking on were stricken with dismay,
When the remains of James and Angus McDonald were found in the boat,
Likewise three pieces or flesh in a pool or blood afloat.
Angus McDonald’s right arm was missing from the elbow,
and the throat was cut in a sickening manner which filled the villagers hearts with woe,
Especially when they saw two pieces of flesh had been cut from each thigh,
'Twas then the kind-hearted villagers did murmur and sigh.
read the rest of this and many others here:http://www.spda.com/mcgonagall/browse_gems.cfm
From my favourite poet, e. e. cummings:
*may i feel said he
(i’ll squeal said she
just once said he)
it’s fun said she
(may i touch said he
how much said she
a lot said he)
why not said she
(let’s go said he
not too far said she
what’s too far said he
where you are said she)
may i stay said he
(which way said she
like this said he
if you kiss said she
may i move said he
is it love said she)
if you’re willing said he
(but you’re killing said she
but it’s life said he
but your wife said she
now said he)
ow said she
(tiptop said he
don’t stop said she
oh no said he)
go slow said she
(cccome?said he
ummm said she)
you’re divine!said he
(you are Mine said she)*
Hee. He’s so lewd. 
The wartime comedian Max Miller came out with this one:
I like the girls who do
I like the girls who don’t
I hate the girl who says she will
But then she says she won’t.
But the girl I like the most of all
And I think you’ll say I’m right
Is the girl who says she never does
But looks as though she might!