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Ozymandias Ever Rising through the Winds of Time

Ozymandias Ever Rising through the Winds of Time

I met a poet from an online site
who said: 'Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
stand in my mind, yet find description quite
inadequate, half sunk beneath time flown.'
I answered: 'He whose sneer rei[g]ned cold command,
his sculptor too, are both to Lethe blown,
his passions mocked by who'd today demand
a résumé for tourists who bemoan
a lack of facts to show their pseudo friends
to back up their vacation time well spent,
and yet, and yet, so similar their ends
whose works turn sand when's finished sojourn lent.'
He came, he ruled, time fooled and conquered him,
trunk packed away museumwards on whim.

Nosy man dies as day draws down dark night,
knows he has but a finite span to moan
upon this Earth until, denied the right
of an extension to his lifelong loan.
Foreclosure comes whatever cash on hand
must crash to dust, call harvested; seeds sown
perhaps survive, migrate to other land,
there to engender likeness, throwback clone.
Thus who’d seek Ozymandias’ tale lends
an ear to fable, tables on hints sent
through centuries whose key stones make amends
for missing trunk, lost headstone’s argument.
When dunes into oases are restored,
may reader find true answer mind may hoard.

1 February 2009
Parody Ozymandias - Percy Bysshe SHELLEY 1792_1822 shel1_0001

Ozymandias

I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert... Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed.

And on the pedestal these words appear:
'My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair! '

Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.

Percy Bysshe SHELLEY 1792_1822 written 27 December 1817,
during an evening sonnet-writing session with Horace Smith

On a Stupendous Leg of Granite, Discovered Standing by Itself in the Deserts of Egypt, with the Inscription Inserted Below

In Egypt's sandy silence, all alone,
Stands a gigantic Leg, which far off throws
The only shadow that the Desert knows.
'I am great Ozymandias, ' saith the stone,
'The King of kings: this mighty city shows
The wonders of my hand.' The city's gone!
Naught but the leg remaining to disclose
The sight of that forgotten Babylon.
We wonder, and some hunter may express
Wonder like ours, when through the wilderness
Where London stood, holding the wolf in chase,
He meets some fragment huge, and stops to guess
What wonderful, but unrecorded, race
Once dwelt in that annihilated place.

Horace SMITH - written 27 December 1817, during an evening sonnet-writing session with Percy Bysshe SHELLEY 1792_1822

Death of Aldo

A wildlife writer from The Forest Lost
Said this: I saw a blue car wrecked beneath a cliff,
Shattered and flattened. Near it had been tossed
Half sunk, a well-drained Johnnie Walker fifth.
Suggesting that the driver had been sauced.
The road above was barely marked at all -
Could he survive? Or was this his adieu?
No butler, bear nor dog had blocked his fall -
But on the dashboard, in his blood, this scrawl:
“My name is Aldo Kelrast - Stalkeroo:
Look upon your work, O Mary, and despair! ”
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that pathetic wreck, boundless and bare
The Santa Royale sands stretch far away.

Parody UN known Author 0316
Parody Ozymandias - Percy Bysshe SHELLEY 1792_1822

Abyssinias

I met a traveler from an antique land
Who said: A huge four-footed limestone form
Sits in the desert, sinking in the sand.
Its whiskered face, though marred by wind and storm,
Still flaunts the dainty ears, the collar band
And feline traits the sculptor well portrayed:
The bearing of a born aristocrat,
The stubborn will no mortal can dissuade.
And on its base, in long-dead alphabets,
These words are set: 'Reward for missing cat!
His name is Abyssinias, pet of pets;
I, Ozymandias, will a fortune pay
For his return. He heard me speak of vets -
O foolish King! And so he ran away.'

Henry BEARD – Poetry for Cats
Parody Ozymandias - Percy Bysshe SHELLEY 1792_1822

Ozymandias Revisited

I met a traveler from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them on the sand,
Half sunk, a shatter'd visage lies, whose frown
And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamp'd on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed;
And on the pedestal these words appear:
'My name is Ozymandias, king of kings!
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair! '
Also the names of Emory P. Gray,
Mr. and Mrs. Dukes, and Oscar Baer
of 17 West 4th Street, Oyster Bay.

Maurice BISHOP 1893_1973
Parody Percy Bysshe SHELLEY 1792_1822 Ozymandias

The Collector

I met a traveller from an antique show,
His pockets empty, but his eyes aglow.
Upon his back, and now his very own,
He bore two vast and trunkless legs of stone.
Amid the torrent of collector's jargon
I gathered he had found himself a bargain,
A permanent conversation piece post-prandial,
Certified genuine early Ozymandial
And when I asked him how he could be sure,
He showed me P.B. Shelley's signature.

Ogden NASH
The Old Dog Barks Backwards 1972
Parody Percy Bysshe SHELLEY 1792_1822 Ozymandias

Abyssinias

I met a traveler from an antique land
Who said: A huge four-footed limestone form
Sits in the desert, sinking in the sand.
Its whiskered face, though marred by wind and storm,
Still flaunts the dainty ears, the collar band
And feline traits the sculptor well portrayed:
The bearing of a born aristocrat,
The stubborn will no mortal can dissuade.
And on its base, in long-dead alphabets,
These words are set: 'Reward for missing cat!
His name is Abyssinias, pet of pets;
I, Ozymandias, will a fortune pay
For his return. He heard me speak of vets -
O foolish King! And so he ran away.'

Henry BEARD – Poetry for Cats
Parody Ozymandias - Percy Bysshe SHELLEY 1792_1822

Ozzie Mandias

I met the traveller from an antique shop
Who said, “two vast and trunkless legs, a bust
Of Pompey, and a vase of lead, in dust
And debris lie in my cellar, near a mop.
Few modern sculptors are there who could top
Their beauty, even though they are half rust.”
He raved on, and aroused my simple trust,
Till I at length prevailed on him to stop.
Seized with delight, I bought them all. On one
Deciphered I these words: ‘Made in Hong Kong’.
Little more remained. Decay had come
From having rotted in the cellar long.
Of that colossal bust, begrimed and grey,
All but the plastic base had flaked away.

Parody UN known Author 0161
Parody Ozymandias - Percy Bysshe SHELLEY 1792_1822

Ozymandias' Safecracker

I met a cracksman coming down the Strand,
Who said, ‘A huge Cathedral, piled of stone,
Stands in a churchyard, near St. Martin’s le Grand,
Where keeps Saint Paul his sacerdotal throne.
A street runs by it to the northward. There
For cab and bus is writ ‘No Thoroughare, ’
The Mayor and Councilmen do so command.
And in that street a shop, with many a box,
Upon whose sign, these fateful words I scanned:
‘My name is Chubb, who makes the Patent Locks;
Look on my works, ye burglars, and despair! ’
Here made he pause, like one that sees a blight
Mar all his hopes, and sighed with drooping air,
‘Our game is up, my covies, blow me tight! ’

Theodore MARTIN 1816_1909
written With William Edmonstoune AYTOUN Bon Gaultier Ballads
Parody Percy Bysshe SHELLEY - Ozymandias

Percy's Progress

A wizened dealer in the second-hand
Said: I've two vast and dog-eared kid-bound tomes
Still in my stock. I cannot understand
Why no-one wants them any more. Such poems
Transport you to new worlds, a wonderland
Where planets swim, and men are hushed on peaks
And skylarks fly through hail. O, how I wish
To sell the blessed things. They've been there weeks.
And on the frontispiece these words appear:
'My name is Percy Shelley - 'twas a Bysshe!
If you don't like it, rub it in your hair! '
Nothing beside remains. What can I say?
They've been remaindered. Else, my shop is bare.
The dusty, empty shelves stretch far away.

Bob NEWMAN 19_20 Parody Ozymandias - Percy Bysshe SHELLEY 1792_1822

poem by Jonathan Robin
Added by Poetry Lover
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