Google is really my friend. I found some poems I read in school way back. I missed them searched in Google and found them.
Here they are.
The Muddle head from Petushkee
I knew a man from Petushkee
As muddleheaded as could be.He always got mixed up with clothes;
He wore his mittens on his toes,
Forgot his collar in his haste,
And tied his tie around his waist.What a muddle head was he,
That man who lived in Petushkee!They told him as he went about:
“You’ve got u’r coat on inside out!”
And when they saw his hat, they said:
“You’ve put a saucepan on your head!”What a muddle head was he,
That man who lived in Petushkee!At lunch he scratched a piece of bread,
And spread some butter on his head.
He put his walking stick to bed,
And he stood in the rack instead.What a muddle head was he,
That man who lived in Petushkee!He walked upto a tram one day
And climbed in very sprightly;
Conductor thought that he would pay,
Instead he said politely:“Parding your beggon,
Kister Monductor,
I’m off for a week’s vacation;
I stop you to beg your cramway tar
As soon as we reach the station.”
Conductor got a fright
And didn’t sleep that nite.What a muddle head was he,
That man who lived in Petushkee!He rushed into the first café:
“A railway ticket please, One way.”
And at the ticket office said:
“A slice of tea and a cup of bread.”What a muddle head was he,
That man who lived in Petushkee!He passed the man collecting the fares,
And entered a carriage awaiting repairs,
That stood on a siding, all by itself.
Half of his luggage, he put on a shelf,
The rest on the floor, his coat on his lap
And settled himself for a bit of a nap.All at once he raised his head,
“I must have been asleep”- he said.
“Hey, what stop is this?” he cried
“Petushkee,” a voice replied.Once again he closed his eyes
And dreamt he was in Paradise.
When he woke, he looked about,
Raised the window and leaned out.“I’ve seen this place before, I believe,
Is it Kharkov or is it Kiev?
Tell me where I am,” he cried.
“In Petushkee”, a voice replied.And so again he settled down
And dreamt the world was upside down
When he woke, he looked about,
Raised the window and looked out.“I seem to know this station too,
Is it Nalchik or Baku?
Tell me what its called,” he cried.
“Petushkee’ a voice replied.Up he jumped: “It’s a crime!
I’ve been riding all this time,
And here I am where I began!
That’s no way to treat a man!’What a muddle head was he,
That man who lived in Petushkee!
Plus some pages containing some of Ogden Nash’s poems. Here it is and Here. It’s not a comprehensive list but it has a nice collection.
A sample.
Commom Cold
Go hang yourself, you old M.D,!
You shall not sneer at me.
Pick up your hat and stethoscope,
Go wash your mouth with laundry soap;
I contemplate a joy exquisite
In not paying you for your visit.
I did not call you to be told
My malady is a common cold.By pounding brow and swollen lip;
By fever’s hot and scaly grip;
By those two red redundant eyes
That weep like woeful April skies;
By racking snuffle, snort, and sniff;
By handkerchief after handkerchief;
This cold you wave away as naught
Is the damnedest cold man ever caught!Give ear, you scientific fossil!
Here is the genuine Cold Colossal;
The Cold of which researchers dream,
The Perfect Cold, the Cold Supreme.
This honored system humbly holds
The Super-cold to end all colds;
The Cold Crusading for Democracy;
The Führer of the Streptococcracy.Bacilli swarm within my portals
Such as were ne’er conceived by mortals,
But bred by scientists wise and hoary
In some Olympic laboratory;
Bacteria as large as mice,
With feet of fire and heads of ice
Who never interrupt for slumber
Their stamping elephantine rumba.A common cold, gadzooks, forsooth!
Ah, yes. And Lincoln was jostled by Booth;
Don Juan was a budding gallant,
And Shakespeare’s plays show signs of talent;
The Arctic winter is fairly coolish,
And your diagnosis is fairly foolish.
Oh what a derision history holds
For the man who belittled the Cold of Colds!
I love his poems.
Adventures of Isabel
Isabel met an enormous bear,
Isabel, Isabel, didn’t care;
The bear was hungry, the bear was ravenous,
The bear’s big mouth was cruel and cavernous.
The bear said, Isabel, glad to meet you,
How do, Isabel, now I’ll eat you!
Isabel, Isabel, didn’t worry.
Isabel didn’t scream or scurry.
She washed her hands and she straightened her hair up,
Then Isabel quietly ate the bear up.Once in a night as black as pitch
Isabel met a wicked old witch.
the witch’s face was cross and wrinkled,
The witch’s gums with teeth were sprinkled.
Ho, ho, Isabel! the old witch crowed,
I’ll turn you into an ugly toad!
Isabel, Isabel, didn’t worry,
Isabel didn’t scream or scurry,
She showed no rage and she showed no rancor,
But she turned the witch into milk and drank her.Isabel met a hideous giant,
Isabel continued self reliant.
The giant was hairy, the giant was horrid,
He had one eye in the middle of his forhead.
Good morning, Isabel, the giant said,
I’ll grind your bones to make my bread.
Isabel, Isabel, didn’t worry,
Isabel didn’t scream or scurry.
She nibled the zwieback that she always fed off,
And when it was gone, she cut the giant’s head off.Isabel met a troublesome doctor,
He punched and he poked till he really shocked her.
The doctor’s talk was of coughs and chills
And the doctor’s satchel bulged with pills.
The doctor said unto Isabel,
Swallow this, it will make you well.
Isabel, Isabel, didn’t worry,
Isabel didn’t scream or scurry.
She took those pills from the pill concocter,
And Isabel calmly cured the doctor.Isabel once was asleep in bed
When a horrible dream crawled into her head.
It was worse than an dinosaur, worse than a shark,
Worse than an octopus oozing in the dark.
Boo! said the dream, with a dreadful grin,
I’m going to scare you out of your skin!
Isabel, Isabel, didn’t worry,
Isabel didn’t scream or scurry.
Isabel had a cleverer scheme;
She just woke up and fooled that dream.Whenever you meet a bugaboo
Remember what Isabel used to do.
Don’t scream when the bugaboo says Boo!
Just look it in the eye and say Boo to you!
That’s how to banish a bugaboo;
Isabel did it and you can too!
Boooooo To You!”
June 10, 2007 at 7:53 pm
hehe..ya nice…the common cold one was new bt awesome
June 10, 2007 at 8:23 pm
hey the isabel one is nt complete..am sure there was something to do woth a bogeyman at the end !!!
June 10, 2007 at 10:32 pm
There was also one about the nightmare and she woke up, and the one where she says Boo to you.
but weirdo thing is everywhere I look i only find till the doctor one.
June 11, 2007 at 11:57 am
Ah…’The Muddle head from Petushkee’ was such a nice poem. One of my favourites. Great to see it once again.
A nice nostalgic post…
June 11, 2007 at 12:37 pm
Yeah. We read it in clas VII, no?
June 11, 2007 at 7:55 pm
Yup exactly. Deolinda Miss was our teacher then. Was she the English teacher of your section too?
June 11, 2007 at 8:14 pm
No Saroj Miss was our eng teacher. Deolinda miss was our Moral Science teacher.
June 17, 2007 at 4:22 am
Yurungkash
King’s Cross Station Ray Timgren Second Council of Lyons Carmelo “The Fury” Marrero West Smithfield White Water Country Waterpark There there. (The Boney King of Nowhere.) Flying Blue Comignago Mike Fredo
July 16, 2007 at 1:09 pm
hey i was thinkin one whole night bout how confused we are in life n then durin that sour moment a funny thought crossed my mind and that was muddle head he was more confused then me surely he gave me a reason to smile my heart out back then n soo i searched the net and i found the man from petushkee as muddled and non plussed as he could ever be !thankyou muddle head!lol…
July 24, 2007 at 9:02 pm
aaaaaaaaaawwwwwww :’-) :’-) :’-) FINALLLLLLLYYYYYYY i found the Muddlehead… i hv been lookin fr it fr ova an year now.. :’-) n here he was.. alongwith Isabel… uuuuuufffff.. School memories… :’-) THANKKK YOU SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO much.. :’-)
July 24, 2007 at 9:19 pm
Okay.. here is the paragraph wich was added later to the Adventures of Isabel poem.. by Ogden Nash..
“Isabel once was asleep in bed
When a horrible dream crawled into her head.
It was worse than an dinosaur, worse than a shark,
Worse than an octopus oozing in the dark.
Boo! said the dream, with a dreadful grin,
I’m going to scare you out of your skin!
Isabel, Isabel, didn’t worry,
Isabel didn’t scream or scurry.
Isabel had a cleverer scheme;
She just woke up and fooled that dream.
Whenever you meet a bugaboo
Remember what Isabel used to do.
Don’t scream when the bugaboo says Boo!
Just look it in the eye and say Boo to you!
That’s how to banish a bugaboo;
Isabel did it and you can too!
Boooooo To You!”
July 24, 2007 at 9:24 pm
And another one from Ogden Nash..wich i read in school!!
“This Is Going To Hurt Just A Little Bit
One thing I like less than most things is sitting in a dentist chair with my mouth wide open.
And that I will never have to do it again is a hope that I am against hope hopen.
Because some tortures are physical and some are mental,
But the one that is both is dental.
It is hard to be self-possessed
With your jaw digging into your chest.
So hard to retain your calm
When your fingernails are making serious alterations in your life line or love line or some other important line in your palm;
So hard to give your usual effect of cheery benignity
When you know your position is one of the two or three in life most lacking in dignity.
And your mouth is like a section of road that is being worked on.
And it is all cluttered up with stone crushers and concrete mixers and drills and steam rollers and there isn’t a nerve in your head thatyou aren’t being irked on.
Oh, some people are unfortunate enough to be strung up by thumbs.
And others have things done to their gums,
And your teeth are supposed to be being polished,
But you have reason to believe they are being demolished.
And the circumstance that adds most to your terror
Is that it’s all done with a mirror,
Because the dentist may be a bear, or as the Romans used to say, only they were referring to a feminine bear when they said it, an ursa,
But all the same how can you be sure when he takes his crowbar in one hand and mirror in the other he won’t get mixed up, the way you do when you try to tie a bow tie with the aid of a mirror, and forget that left is right and vice versa?
And then at last he says That will be all; but it isn’t because he then coats your mouth from cellar to roof
With something that I suspect is generally used to put a shine on a horse’s hoof.
And you totter to your feet and think. Well it’s all over now and afterall it was only this once.
And he says come back in three monce.
And this, O Fate, is I think the most vicious circle that thou ever sentest,
That Man has to go continually to the dentist to keep his teeth in good condition
when the chief reason he wants his teeth in good condition
is so that he won’t have to go to the dentist. “
August 3, 2007 at 8:43 pm
10x. I really wanted that last para.
July 6, 2008 at 11:47 am
all poems were really good . I ESPECIALLY liked the muddle head from petuschkee . I was wonderful .Please write more poems
July 6, 2008 at 2:08 pm
Ach, I’m afraid I did not write those poems. They were written by Ogden Nash.
July 19, 2008 at 10:29 am
was googling for the petushkee poem. brought back sweet memories of school. (Space central school, sriharikota). thanks a million neelakant
July 19, 2008 at 8:30 pm
You is most welcome.
August 27, 2008 at 8:36 pm
all peoms were just too good i loved them specially muddle head…..
oh ogden is a great writer of humorous poems
I love his poems now
oh he is too good
AWESOME POEMS…………………..
October 3, 2008 at 6:00 pm
This is great! I too read it in school, class 6 or so. There’s another schooltime story I am looking for which I think was titled ‘A Table is a Table’, where a man changes around the name of familiar objects to change his routine, then forgets the original names, and is mentally battered because he can’t relate to the names others use anymore. will be grateful if you find it and post it, if you know the one.
October 5, 2008 at 12:33 am
@Addy, I have read this story although I can’t seem to find it right now. I’ll look it up.
October 7, 2008 at 12:27 pm
Thanks, Neel. I’ve asked other people from my age cohort (cbse schools, batch of 1992) who remember this sort of vaguely. hope you find it somehow, I wish I had still kept my english school books.
October 7, 2008 at 3:20 pm
Aha. I have found it.
The story was written by Swiss Author Peter Bichsel.
Once there was an old man living alone in a room in a high
building. He always did the same things every day. He rose in the
morning, washed his face, had his breakfast, which was brought to him by a maid, read his newspaper, and then went for a walk in the park,where he greeted the very same people in the very same way. Later he came back home, changed the same words with his landlady, had his meal, and spent the rest of his time thinking about life.
He felt very bored and lonely. He often told himself that he must
change his life, but he didn’t know what to do. One day he had an
idea. He told himself that the Frenchmen used different words for
things: they say “lit” instead of bed; “porte” instead of
door; “lune” instead of moon. He told himself further that the
Chinese also used different words for things (though he actually
didn’t know any Chinese). And he concluded: “The Frenchmen understand each other and the Chinese understand each other, too. What if I spoke a different language?” And then he had a second idea. Rather than picking up a new language, he decided to create his own language. And lastly he had a third bright idea: he would simply interchange the names of things. That sounded very easy and funny, indeed.
Then he started saying “boot” instead of “mirror”, “socks” instead
of “glasses”, “sun” instead of “wind”, and so on. He wrote all the
new meanings on a blackboard, which was no longer a “blackboard”, but a “bucket”, until he knew them all by heart, which was no longer a “heart”, but a “rose”. Then he wiped them off and wrote other new words. He soon started practicing his new language outdoors.
Whenever he said something to someone, people looked amused at him
but they were still able to understand him. “How many lumps of chalk did you put in my porridge, Miss Brown?” “What is the time like outside? Is it cold?” “Could you please darn my glasses?” There was even some poetry in the things he said. As time went by, however, his new vocabulary had increased considerably and people had a harder time to see the meaning. And worse, as it often happens with old people, he gradually forgot his old language and found that he was only able to speak in his new tongue.
There came one day when the people looked at him and asked: “What are you talking about? Have you gone crazy?” And so the old man found that he was unable to communicate with other people. He found he was unable to understand the others, which was perhaps not so bad. Worse was that the others didn’t understand him any more, no matter how much he gesticulated. He even stopped greeting. He felt much lonelier than in the beginning. He felt ashamed of opening his mouth. It is said that he never spoke a single word again.
October 8, 2008 at 6:14 pm
Neel, You’re a genius and a star! Thanks so much! Appreciate it from the bottom of my heart! Addy
October 9, 2008 at 8:54 pm
He heh, you’re welcome.
August 16, 2009 at 10:57 pm
Thank you for the poems and the story. Read them in school(KV) and always wanted to read them again.