Dumb Poems are where you find them

I was cleaning out my messy bookshelf this evening. I found an old notebook with some scribbling on some of its pages. There were three "old" dumb poems in there that I had forgotten about. You might enjoy them, and, then again, you might not. You must be the judge of that. I renumbered them and here they are – just for you.

My hope is that I can find the illustrations that Al Kaeppel put together for these little poems. We shall see what we shall see, right?

The Apology

"I said that of you?
Me-0h-my!
I’d really meant
to tell a lie."

Perspective

An Italian and a German,
with a Frenchman thrown in, too,
went walking in the park one day
and came upon the zoo.

Commented German to his friend
(who called Genoa home)
"That monkey looks as though he’s from
Napoli or Rome."

"Well. Look right here – a thick-head bear.
He could have been your father,"
Italian said to German, then,
"if he’d had time to bother."

The Frenchman smiled and pointed to
a pretty girl in shorts.
"I like a zoo with creatures loose.
Zookeepers are good sports."

This version of the poem is the "long version," which is probably why it sat idle instead of being hustled out with the rest of the Dumb Poem crowd. I kinda like the shorter one, but folks who enjoy making fun of me go for this one. Actually, it does make me smile a wee bit even though I am now facing a mess of painful typing to get it to you.

The Elephant and the Whale – II

The Elephant, in search of fun,
called on his friend, the Whale.
Hey Whale," he hollered, with a smile,
"come take me for a sail."

"Jump on, jump on, you tusky beast.
A ride you’ll have on me,
but if you slip into the waves,
it’s wet you’re going to be."

"It isn’t water – only mice –
that give me real bad times.
Of course, there’s Gus. He’s quite the worst,
with all his silly rhymes."

"It seems to me I’ve heard of Gus,"
commented Whale, while rowing.
"That’s right. He rhymed us into one.
No doubt, his mind was going."

"Oh, yes," said Elephant, "I know
all about that dreadful poem.
It held us up to ridicule.
I couldn’t face the folks back home."

"I’ll tell you what we’ll do to Gus,"
smiled Whale while swimming underside,
We’ll ask Gus to come visit us,
and have, with us, an ocean ride."

"A great idea," said Elephant,
by which to soothe our wrath,
but maybe we should think again.
Gus is said to sing at bath."

"At bath, you say?" asked Whale, amused,
I might have known that of him.
and, here, I thought I’d planned things through.
You’re right. We can’t just shove him."

"Our problem is compounded more,"
said Elephant, conspiring still,
in that these rhymers never quit
although we all have had our fill."

"Let’s use our heads – they’re big enough –
to plan what’s best to do.
Let’s write a poem about that guy.
The fact is, Gus is overdue."

Whale said, "that’s tops. We’ll start it with
big words that show Gus lazy,
and follow on with bigger words
indicting him as crazy."

One couldn’t choose a longer task
than listing faults of Gus’s.
Their rhyme, thus, covered page on page,
each quite devoid of pluses.

Yes, on and on, the two did write
their epic, rhymed disclosure
of Gus’s ways and all his faults –
a great big thick exposure.

When they were done, the Elephant
and Whale, proud of their writing,
submitted it, repeatedly.
(No publisher was biting.)

"It’s back to Gus," lamented Whale,
Our plan has been all wrong.
It’s likely Gus will use our rhyme.
(His own stuff smells so strong.)"

"Yes, count on Gus to plagiarize,"
agreed the two, together.
With Gus the choice is always ‘when’
and not a case of ‘whether.’"

"So, let’s ask Gus to visit us,"
said Elephant, still certain,
and, while he’s suffering from our rhyme,
he’ll steal it, though he’s hurtin’."

"The things we wrote will do him in.
His whole tale’s on the list,
but, given the chance to publish rhymes,
what writer can resist?"

Well, Gus arrived and read it all.
He laughed ‘til tears rolled down.
"Thank God," yelled Gus, "this pleases me!
I’m not the only clown."