"dachshund" poems
There are three versions of this poem. only one of them is available on the internet. This first version is from the New Yorker in a 1941 issue. It is the earliest version and the one that is quoted all over the internet.
To My Valentine
by Ogden Nash (1902-1971)
More than a catbird hates a cat,
Or a criminal hates a clue,
Or the Axis hates the United States,
That's how much I love you.
I love you more than a duck can swim,
And more than a grapefruit squirts,
I love you more than gin rummy is a bore,
And more than a toothache hurts.
As a shipwrecked sailor hates the sea,
Or a juggler hates a shove,
As a hostess detests unexpected guests,
That's how much you I love.
I love you more than a wasp can sting,
And more than the subway jerks,
I love you as much as a beggar needs a crutch,
And more than a hangnail irks.
I swear to you by the stars above,
And below, if such there be,
As the High Court loathes perjurious oaths,
That's how you're loved by me.
The next version is the lyric of a song from the Broadway musical "One Touch of Venus" (1943) by Ogden Nash, J S Perelman and Kurt Weill. Nash wrote this lyric. It is not on the internet that I could find. I got it from the sheet music.
HOW MUCH I LOVE YOU
More than a catbird hates a cat,
Or a criminal hates a clue,
Or the Axis hates the United States,
That's how much I love you.
As a sailor's sweetheart hates the sea,
Or a juggler hates a shove,
As a wife detests unexpected guests,
That's how much you I love.
I love you more than a wasp can sting,
And more than a hangnail hurts.
I love you more than commercials are a bore,
And more than a grapefruit squirts.
I swear to you by the stars above,
And below, if such there be,
As a bride would resent a blessed event,
That's how you are loved by me.
More than a waitress hates to wait ,
Or a lioness hates the zoo,
Or a batter dislikes those called third strikes,
That's how much I love you.
As much as a lifeguard hates to swim,
Or a writer hates to read,
As Hays office frowns on low cut gowns,
That's how much you I need.
I love you more than a hive can itch,
And more than a chilblain chills.
I yearn for you in an ivy clad igloo,
As a liver yearns for pills.
I swear to you by the stars above,
And below, if such there be,
As a dachshund abhors revolving doors,
That's how you are loved by me.
The third is from the book "Marriage Lines: notes of a student husband" It was published in 1964 and contains a revised version of the poem with a much different ending. This too is not on the internet. I got it from the book.
TO MY VALENTINE
More than a catbird hates a cat,
Or a criminal hates a clue,
Or an odalisque hates the Sultan's mates,
That's how much I love you.
I love you more than a duck can swim,
And more than a grapefruit squirts,
I love you more than commercials are a bore,
And more than a toothache hurts.
As a shipwrecked sailor hates the sea,
Or a juggler hates a shove,
As a hostess detests unexpected guests,
That's how much you I love.
I love you more than a wasp can sting,
And more than the subway jerks,
I love you truer than a toper loves a brewer,
And more than a hangnail irks.
I love you more than a bronco bucks,
Or a Yale man cheers the Blue.
Ask not what is this thing called love;
It's what I'm in with you.
Feb 14, 2018
Feb 14, 2018 at 2:51 PM UTC
A merry dachshund yaps, and leaps for leaves
Wind-blown across the still-green summer grass
As autumn visits briefly, and looks around
To plan his festive moonlit frosts when next
Diana dances ‘cross November’s skies.
Oct 1, 2018
Oct 1, 2018 at 1:52 PM UTC
World leaders thunder denunciations
But my dachshund puppy annoys the cats
Bombing planes fly in nuclear drills
But my dachshund puppy just ate a moth
Religious leaders are shredding their files
But my dachshund puppy barfed up that moth
I don’t know if I’ll lose my job next year
But my dachshund puppy got spanked by Queen Cat
The fat boys on the radio yell a lot
But my dachshund puppy is barking mindlessly
My senator says he stands up for the flag
But my dachshund puppy is stealing the cat food
My president seems to play golf for the flag
But my dachshund puppy is napping in the sun
And the cats are quite happy about that
Sep 14, 2018
Sep 14, 2018 at 4:48 PM UTC
Steps on the barren desert valley ground,
I'd rather be in the alley.
I'd rather be in the alley with you.
Sun burnt rocks jut out at me,
They shake their fingers at me,
"You'll never get out, it's a dead end from here."
I remember sitting out under the sun,
I remember being under the sun on the roof,
And I remember screaming at the skies,
*" Mathematics has taught me nothing,
School was nothing but sociological lies!"*
I had my verbal reasoning skills,
I had a bottle of Adderall pills,
I had my quantum physical knowledge,
I've been down the road of metaphysics,
I even had foreign language skills.
Italian artistry doesn't help you here, no.
The coyote knows best,
The wildebeast and dachshund know better.
Animal supremacy, no.
Conscious human foreclosure of higher arcane intelligence,
If it ever yielded it's presence,
Jesus would've resurrected already.
Dec 21, 2013
Dec 21, 2013 at 4:27 PM UTC
quanta is better understood outside of physics,
on a grander scale -
quantum is a quality suggestion that
makes two (to, too) things auto-suggestive
as pertaining in the matter -
never mind - take the concept of quanta
out of physics and you get
a man readying himself for a controlled
coma having his wisdom teeth removed,
with the anaesθetician asking about
the readers' digest, the patient replying
quo vadis? / dokąd idziesz? then
the great sleep plateau - 'where are you going?'
puts any man off, whether boxer,
or paediatrician - ****** lays dead floored
for a minute, plays the dog game: play dead,
tongue hanging ready for a guillotine.
CHOP! and there goes the tail of a Doberman
(jamnik / dachshund on stilts)
and a ρoττł-
y
woo woo woo chim chimney
cha cha cha ooh
the rotting wail - rottweiler -
-ειλερ;
you never mention the u with the v due to
the chisel ease, then again, you don't
say double-o'h but say double u -
too shay frowning at a shave;
****** i'll make your language my playground
given all these post-colonial ***** aiming
for a signature and credentials,
this **** could pass the London brigade,
but take it to York, it would be a massacre
of a bureaucratic lapse of credentials...
a viking invasion more-or-less;
oh **** quantum physics, Charles Dickens
and the Victorian Era - Jack the Ripper the antonym,
both are the desired cages of energy requiring expression
to make testimony that such an age existed,
a particular congregate of expression, never universal,
boxes and pockets, however much inside one
is a question of your dietary requirement,
quantum physics is better explained with history
than hard science, and atoms, or the craze of subs,
people need a bigger picture, not everyone own
a ******* microscope or a telescope,
teach quantum physics using history:
Philippe Augustus of France mattered,
at the Battle of Bouvines - Otto IV? not so much.
Jun 26, 2016
Jun 26, 2016 at 7:45 PM UTC
"Beautiful dog, Dachshund right? It have a name?",
that is what I would have said to you
in hopes of sparking a conversation
in hopes of learning your name. I honestly
don't care about the dog's name at all, but
you have nice hair, and hips. They mesmerized
me while you walked, your dog, away
from me. I never said anything.
Sep 6, 2010
Sep 6, 2010 at 9:48 AM UTC
I remember how that Puxatony dirt
felt between my fingers. Gritty
and cold – the earth that covers graves.
Falling from my palm, landing at his paws,
he curled around my leg, shivering.
Against my ankle, he rested his long ears.
Polaroids of a mothers chew-toy earrings;
memories of March spent playing in *****
backyards, forests, and playgrounds. We shivered
together, in the heat of Spring, with gritty
rock-filled driveways underneath our paws.
Lives, those playful daisies sprouting from gravel,
that we ate day by day; pushing graves
down out of mind, but spilling from our ears.
The summer wrought steel cages to grip awe,
with training meant, bent to destroy dirt
kept caked on worn-out sandals. Grits
scooped off a breakfast plate to a shivering
dachshund. His collar jingled, shimmering
as it clashed against his bowl. Cold gravy
and dry cat food, with textured scents. Gritty,
furry, and harsh. Ears dipped in water bowls
finding the only bath of the month, clearing dirt
from a death in the family. Soft, unknowing paws
treaded with grace, and a parentless pause
as we crumbled. Directionless grief shivered
the big men with their shrunken hearts, *****
from a three-hour drenching sob at the grave.
But love is not measured by the size of loss -
it is made of highs and lows; rough and gritty.
Seven pounds of compassion weighs with gridded
precision on my chest. Those tiny paws,
batting at my heart. Soft, two-times-too-large ears
crying with us and pleading through shivers
to enjoy everything. Now your graves are dug
together - between you only a foot of dirt.
Gritty reality seeps in from shivering
fiction. Your paws on your own grave,
I place my ear to the dirt, and whimper.
Nov 27, 2011
Nov 27, 2011 at 11:24 AM UTC
A caliph trembles at the sound of aircraft
like a dachshund beaten too much while
his pack snap and bite and **** their legs
to *** on a better world
Their state is a chewed thighbone
covered in flies yet they mint coins
in gold and silver and praise God as they
throw effeminate teenagers off rooftops
A Turkish fisherman with a large shoe
stuffs cash into a pregnant pocket
and crams frightened souls into the shoe
which sinks on the horizon like the sun
Assassins have the crescent moon
in their left hands ***** pictures
on their phones and tight vests
leaking lava
She searched for tips on eyeliner
the day she erupted as a volcano
leaving her sheer blouse to mourn
at home on the ironing board
The world has become as mad
as Napoleon in stiletto heels
cross-legged on the back
of a tortoise singing Hey Jude
Apr 23, 2016
Apr 23, 2016 at 3:20 AM UTC
When the sun hides
the doubts arrive
playing hide and seek
talking behind my ear
Voices clang at pipes
crushing a plumber's work
I try to hide
Playing their game
the doubts find me
simply like a dachshund
searching for badgers
Brutality is enforced
my body beaten raw
like a bowl of dough
My head slaps the floor
as I fall, I see it
blue heels deep in mud
once a savior, now a doubt
Jan 4, 2015
Jan 4, 2015 at 3:35 AM UTC
you know what undermines most urban coolios?
you know what undermines the majority of urban hippies?
imitations - clones - we might wear the same sneakers
but at least we think different - we think different, aye-right?
we do, don't we? we don't?! ah ****
but that's what undermines the urban crew - (ha ha, i love
the impromptu slang) - they work their ***** off
and tease their ***** off with twerks -
and then they package hamburgers
with a squeeeeeeezes of the ol' Nutcracker -
but in London so many harvesters -
so many - coolio did fabric off of
Bacon?! **** straight he did -
bring back 1990's bling boo ya ah
ICE CUBE FACE 'N' A PUFFER FISH (MINUS THE LIP) -
like ghetto 1994 - yo yo - ice ice baby -
white man on the Michael - leisure,
leisure, leisure leisure - lacerations and a Las Vegas
weekend - bro got smoked -
and mm hmm - fixed up my pauper rich-man
Porsche - called a dachshund Lamborghini gallop
buckling a dentist's appointment; fuck's sake
buck tooth, drop a gear!
n'ah n'ah n'ah n'ah (lost count) - hmm stirrup song
evened vogue - puck'ah poo or as i shoo
the airs under the carpet with an audience of one.
but believe me, countryside boy says it -
the cool individuals meeting a clone or a mirror
outside their thought experiment and
panic sets in... just another countryside boy
in an urban environment fiddling with a violin
like he might be shining a pair of black leather shoes.
Jul 13, 2016
Jul 13, 2016 at 10:41 PM UTC
Central Standard Dachshund Time
Turn back the clock, but not a dachshund’s tail
Since dog and tail will turn right back again.
And then around three times, and without fail
She’ll want outside, and then –
She’ll want back in
To spin, for that is what a dachshund does
A doggy dance, a prance, and all four paws
Buzz, and where she is isn’t where she was
In violation of space-time and Newton’s laws -
On Saturday night we turn back the clocks
But there’s no winding down a baby dox
Nov 4, 2016
Nov 4, 2016 at 10:44 PM UTC
Thirteen Reasons Why Not
We are not permitted to choose the frame of our destiny.
But what we put into it is ours.
-Dag Hammarskjold
1. God made you; you can never be replaced
2. God made you for some purpose – live to find it
3. Someone is blessed in knowing you each day
4. You must live so that others may live
5. Someone desperately needs your kindness right now
6. You haven’t yet written your book, your story, your song
7. When you offer up your suffering, you help others
8. Children running barefoot through the flowers of spring
9. Children running barefoot through the leaves of autumn
10. Dachshund puppies. And leaves. And flowers. And children
11. Coffee and a talk with a good friend
12. Breakfast and the Sunday morning funnies
13. That empty pew God has saved just for you
May 6, 2017
May 6, 2017 at 5:13 PM UTC
"And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?"
- W. B. Yeats: The Second Coming
Dachshund
Bred to burrow after badgers,
what's he doing here?
Terrorizing the underwear
behind my couch.
Is he a true hund,
or just a pan-fried sausage
with a Bluto chest?
I wonder what they called him
back then, in the Black Forest,
when dogs were dogs.
Tracker? Hunter?
Try: Baron Von Putt-Putt Tootsie Roll.
I'm Scot myself.
My people once sacked York.
No, this isn't York.
It's Plano, Texas.
Don't think a Dachshund and a Scot
can't sack Dallas from here.
Until then, we play our little game:
What rough ****** slouches toward my underwear?
Mar 1, 2018
Mar 1, 2018 at 1:23 PM UTC
I forced my razor knife down
into an anniversary coffee cup
crammed with pens, pencils,
two pairs of scissors, and one
roll of color film I'm afraid
to develop. I jammed it in blade-
up so I'd have to deal
with the hard part first
like a blank page before
an accidental tongue slip
drips ink and makes the page
pretty. Some tree I've never met
and some pink dye died for me
to cover this pressed pulp
in illegible squiggles;
and I'll be
damned if I let it down.
'cause I'm drawn to things
without opinions. Sketchbooks,
inkwells, rubber band bracelets,
a mixed-nut dragonfly rested
on my trampoline net. // Cut it
free // cut it loose.
Find a brick behind the shed
and smash it dead,—preteen me—
young Wordsworth me.
I pulled the sepia tape from Queen
cassettes and finished the glossy
plastic off with a vise grip in Dad's truck.
Old Brucey had mustard pinstripes
down the driver's side, all the way down
to the Germania General Store.
He was a blur to me before I could buy
my own Dreamsicles. Passing the chicken feed
and the resident, caged dachshund couple,
I saw his face for the first time. Seventeen-years-
old, staring at my grandpa through picture
and plate glass panes.
The angels he swore were real—the ones he payed,
praised, and prayed for every Sunday and everyday
the sun shined and everyday it didn't—
were now less deserving of heaven.
Jan 14, 2015
Jan 14, 2015 at 1:00 AM UTC
High Noon at the Bird Feeder
A little dog, a streak of dachshund red,
Across the grass speeds to a squirrel’s doom
She wants its blood, she wants its flesh, she wants it dead;
Ripped, shredded, and torn; it will need no tomb.
The fat old squirrel, a fluff of forest grey,
Is unimpressed by doggie dementia;
To Liesl’s grief he leaps and climbs away -
Never underestimate the Order Rodentia!
Liesl’s squirrel clings to a low-hanging limb
And rattles abuse at the angry pup
Who spins and barks and spins and barks at him
Laughing among the leaves, and climbing higher up.
So Liesl snorts and sneers, and marks the ground;
She accepts not defeat, nor lingers in sorrow;
For Liesl and squirrel it’s their daily round;
They’ll go it again, same time tomorrow.
Nov 25, 2017
Nov 25, 2017 at 5:05 PM UTC
Every evening at dinner,
My mom would tell us about school.
She works there
In fact, the same one my sister and I attended.
She now tells us about education reform
And how it is ruining her classroom.
You see,
She works with special needs children
And teaching them multiple methods to do a math problem
When they understand the first one
Is like thrusting them into the middle of the ocean
Telling them to learn how to swim
And wondering why they are drowning.
Having seventh graders who read at a fifth grade level
Take the same standardized test as other kids their age
Is like putting a dachshund in a cage
And telling it to fight a pit bull.
These students are being set up to fail
And yet, the schools and the government are asking
"Why are test scores dropping?"
"Why aren't they up to par?"
"We're going to lose our money"
What quality teacher signed up to be an educator
With the idea that money would be more important
Than the children in the school system?
Who gives a **** about dollar figures
When you are pushing kids to the edge of the cliff
And getting angry when they fall off?
The game doesn't change until the directions do
But the people writing them are prioritizing the end result
Not the players.
So tell me,
Will anybody win a game that is this corrupt?
Will anybody win this game at all?
People like my mom, my English teacher
The students
Did not agree to play this way.
But if we do not set these kids up and place them in a position
Where success is possible
The future will go up in flames.
Nov 24, 2014
Nov 24, 2014 at 10:41 AM UTC
I had a dream.
There was a dachshund
sitting in front of me,
not just a dachshund
but also my family.
Looking, laughing, celebrating
me.
That's never happened before,
you see.
I had a dream.
There was a man,
no, two. Maybe three,
they kept lizardly eyeing me.
I knew they wanted to hurt
me,
but not hurt
me
That has happened before,
you see.
I had a...
Dream?
There was a dachshund
sitting in front of me,
yet eagerly running away
from my family.
Running towards the men,
not two, but three,
running to show me,
these men,
they came for me,
yet the dachshund stays.
That protection has never happened before,
you see.
I had a dream.
The pale-scaled men,
racing for the dachshund at my speed.
Trembling hands,
my family still celebrates,
but the main event's running away,
I leap,
jump
fall
to save the dachshund
as the gun crawls
out of their hand,
bullet seeping away from the barrel.
I wish this had happened,
you see.
As the men disappeared,
dachshund in tow,
the silver hit me.
I felt it all rush through my
fingers,
from that preppy piano recital,
to my non-existent prom suit.
dogs now silenced
to pens finally capped.
Muted I-do's
to the stage lights finally dimmed.
and I could call this ocean
that swept through my
fingers,
nothing but relief.
Yet waking up,
I can find no better words for it
than a dream.
Nov 26, 2020
Nov 26, 2020 at 1:27 AM UTC
The games
The small-fry
Ketchup she squirt's
Talking heads
sugar on my
miniature flirt
tongue
Burger bands
Gimme___ Gimme
((Mini Macaroons))
Don't big change me
My eyes like
((Rocky Racoons))
Movie Mania
Beatles miniature
I want to hold
your hand
Lucy in the sky*
No chip diamonds
Cool Hand Luke
American girl doll
Exchange for
my red bike
Twilight zone
dimension I___
Cannot read
the numbers!!!
I-phone oranges
compared to
small apples
That's me
Mini Cooper
Car drinking Snapple
The shooting
star*
Just gas up
V-Wagon
mini car
(Mini Bow)
ladybug
kissed her
Coffee mug
The red and
black dots
treat her
like a lady
Small bits of aroma
The smaller sticky
yellow
notes what votes
Mini-me camera
Mini hot___ Hollywood
dog dachshund
* * * *
It's mini
mealtime____
Adorable
Presentable
The Dollhouse
lodge Mini
Disneyland___**
No copying to
resemble
Mini Fruit
salad merger
Red Robin's Burger
were overly generous
Mr. Big
imaginable
so small
Superman's
flight of rage
So-Huge_____ and long____
turned him if I only
had a brain
((The Tinman))
mentally touched him
Sprayed his oil can
in mini heart size
Hello Dollie
collector
magnifying glass
Handcrafted
Pleasurable kind
and small
Broomstick
Witchcraft
Miniature leader
Knock on
heavens door
The Doorman
The Penthouse
Mini Bavarian
creme
Me doughnut
The cool breeze
off her fan
Big thumb
((Thumbelina))
The mini frog
Hit too many
London fogs
Mini White castle
burger chips off the
miniature block party
Meat tenderizer like trolls
Las Vegas
money slot machines
Those miniature dolls
((Minerals Top Ranks))
Gemology
produce
more blues
******
Adolf ******
generals
Cereal boxes
Sly Foxes Attention
How her
features met
his smaller
side_______
Royal hot blues singer
Mini He pops dishes
All Banana nut's
When it
comes to
Monkeying
around
With________?
miniature swingers
cereal___*
May 26, 2018
May 26, 2018 at 12:23 PM UTC
Today was a necessity.
I think,
I hope you understand that someday it will all make sense.
I dreamt of the perfect world with children of ours running in a green field with a dachshund along side.
There was picture perfect walls of glass and my library that you discouraged, but cared enough to allow me.
There was the gaming room that I discouraged, but cared enough to allow you.
And each morning breath was an inhalation of your skin, so bare and intimate.
My hair would wrap around your fingers playfully and our legs would hug under blankets from when we still were virgins together, in multiple ways.
Those dreams pass quickly as does the pendulum of the clock.
The seconds quicken as it deceives us into believing this will work.
It was good at what it did, and we fell for it.
There was no time to change my decision, for the better.
Perhaps someday we may walk with our hands joined once more, but until then,
This is absolutely, irrevocably, necessary.
Apr 24, 2014
Apr 24, 2014 at 7:12 AM UTC
With thanks to everyone who gives us
Young Sheldon and The Big Bang Theory
Soft doxie
Warm doxie
Little ball of fur
Happy doxie
Sleepy doxie
yap, yap, yap! YAP! YAP! YAP! Yap! Yap! Yap! YAP! YAP! YAP! Yap! Yap! Yap! YAP! YAP! YAP! Yap! Yap! Yap! YAP! YAP! YAP! Yap! Yap! Yap! Bark! YAP! YAP! YAP! Yap! Yap! Yap! Woof! YAP! YAP! YAP! Yap! Yap! Yap! Grrrrrrr! YAP! YAP! YAP! Yap! Yap! Yap !YAP! YAP! YAP! Yap! Yap! Yap!
May 18, 2019
May 18, 2019 at 2:03 PM UTC
Cuddly Carnivores
Why do we humans cuddle carnivores
Give names to yapping little quadrupeds
Who growl at socks and shoes and closet doors
And rumple all the covers on all the beds?
What possible use is a dachshund pup
Who chews whatever her tiny teeth reach
And what doesn’t digest comes right back up:
Little dogs are impossible to teach!
But in my arms my Astrid softly snores -
That’s why we cuddle baby carnivores
Jan 4, 2017
Jan 4, 2017 at 3:32 PM UTC
For Liesl-the-Wonder-Dachshund, of Happy Memory
A merry dachshund yaps, and leaps for leaves
Wind-strewn across the still-green summer grass
As Autumn visits briefly, and looks around
To plan his festive moonlit frosts when soon
Diana dances across November’s skies.
Oct 1, 2017
Oct 1, 2017 at 9:28 AM UTC
Lawrence Hall
[email protected]
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com
The Dachshund and the ‘Possum
I let the dog out for her night patrol
To sniff the boundaries and take a stroll
But out in the dark, beyond the cat
That was where an old ‘possum was at
The dachshund stiffened; she was filled with rage
She charged the enemy; she snarled, “ENGAGE!”
I commanded the dachshund to let it go
With bark and bite and snap her answer was “no”
The fierce dachshund growled; the old ‘possum hissed
I grabbed for the dog but obviously missed
I went back inside to take a shower
Thinking to give the stupid dog an hour
And so it passed; her allotted time is up
The standoff continues ‘tween ‘possum and pup
At dawn it may be that one is dead –
I’ll find out then; for now I’m off to bed!
Jul 18, 2022
Jul 18, 2022 at 11:32 PM UTC
We are not permitted to choose the frame of our destiny.
But what we put into it is ours.
-Dag Hammarskjold
1. God made you; you can never be replaced
2. God made you for some purpose – live to find it
3. Someone is blessed each day in knowing you
4. You must live so that others may live
5. Someone desperately needs your kindness right now
6. You haven’t yet written your book, your story, your song
7. When you offer up your suffering, you help others
8. Children running barefoot through the flowers of spring
9. Children running barefoot through the leaves of autumn
10. Dachshund puppies. And leaves. And flowers. And children
11. Coffee and a talk with a good friend
12. Breakfast and the Sunday morning funnies
13. That empty pew God has saved just for you
May 26, 2018
May 26, 2018 at 4:52 PM UTC
That Happy Little Dachshund Dance
All dachshunds dance their days in happiness
And shake their bodies, tails, and ears about
And thank their humans every doggie day
With puppy kisses and yappings of joy:
For cats to chase, for beds to muss
For grassy lawns on which to play
Hoovers to bark – oh, what a fuss!
And your pillow at the end of day
For dogs still live in Eden, and that is why
All dachshunds dance their days in happiness
Oct 28, 2017
Oct 28, 2017 at 3:54 PM UTC