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On First Looking - Parody John KEATS – On First Looking into Chapman’s Homer

On First Looking

Much have I rummaged, bartered books for gold,
and many goodly states of Shakespeare seen,
round many stalls and book fairs have I been
which frauds in fealty to their runners hold.
Oft of some sharp expense had I been told
that Maggs or Quaritch made their pet demesne,
yet never did I seethe with rage so keen
till once a chap-book saw I still unsold.
Then wished I Evoe was, who in disguise,
the superman of planet fame, I ken,
skinned over catalogues with eagle eyes
to stare at price lists with a skill few men
can e’er attain unearthing bargains. Vain
‘twas, a dream, I sink, to sleep again...

[c] Jonathan Robin parody written 2 August 1991
Parody John KEATS 1795_1821 – On First Looking into Chapman’s Homer

________

On First Looking Into Chapman’s Homer

Much have I travelled in the realms of gold,
And many goodly states and kingdoms seen;
Round many western islands have I been
Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold.
Oft of one wide expanse had I been told
That deep-browed Homer ruled as his demesne:
Yet did I never breathe its pure serene
Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold:
Then felt I like some watcher of the skies
When a new planet swims into his ken;
Or like stout Cortez, when with eagle eyes
He stared at the Pacific, and all his men
Looked at each other with a wild surmise -
Silent, upon a peak in Darien.

John KEATS 1795_1821
___________
On First Looking into Bee Palmer's Shoulders

WITH BOWS TO KEATS AND KEITH'S
'The World's Most Famous Shoulders'
'BEE' PALMER has taken the raw human - all too human - stuff of the underworld, with its sighs of sadness and regret, its mad merriment, its swift blaze of passion, its turbulent dances, its outlaw music, its songs of the social bandit, and made a new art product of the theatre. She is to the sources of jazz and the blues what François Villon was to the wild life of Paris. Both have found exquisite blossoms of art in the sector of life most removed from the concert room and the boudoir, and their harvest has the vigour, the resolute life, the stimulating quality, the indelible impress of daredevil, care-free, do-as-you-please lives of the picturesque men and women who defy convention. From Keith's Press Agent.

Much have I travell'd in the realms of jazz,
And many goodly arms and shoulders seen
Quiver and Quake - if you know what I mean;
I've seen a lot, as everybody has.
Some plaudits got, while others got the razz.
But when I saw Bee Palmer, shimmy queen,
I shook - in sympathy - my troubled bean,
And said, 'This is the utter razmatazz.'
Then felt I like some patient with a pain
When a new surgeon swims into his ken,
Or like stout Brodie, when, with reeling brain,
He jumped into the river. There and then
I swayed and took the morning train
To Norwalk, Naugatuck, and Darien.

Franklin Pierce ADAMS 1881_1960
By Mother Goose and our own Sara Teasdale - Something Else Again Part II
Parody John KEATS 1795_1821 – On First Looking into Chapman’s Homer
___________

On First Looking in on Blodgett's...

Mellifluous as bees, these brittle men
droning of Honeyed Homer give me hives.
I scratch, yawn like a bear, my arm arrives
at yours - oh, Honey, and we're back again,
me the Balboa, you the Darien,
lording the loud Pacific sands, our lives
as hazarded as when a petrel dives
to yank the dull sea's coverlet, or when,

breaking from me across the sand that's rink
and record of our weekend boning up
on The Romantic Agony, you sink
John Keats a good surf-fisher's cast out - plump
in the sun's wake - and the parched pages drink
that great whales' blanket party hump and hump.

George STARBUCK 1931_20
Parody John KEATS 1795_1821 – On First Looking into Chapman’s Homer

___________

On First Looking Into an Exam Paper

Oft have I batted on the cricket field,
And over many a bowler could I crow.
My frequent fights would sweat-browed triumphs yield,
For few could better give a knock-out blow.

Oft of this dismal time had I been told
That th’examiner ruled as his demesne,
Yet till the fatal day I was serene,
Though on the morning I grew wondrous cold.

Then felt I like some infant catching flies
When a large hornet hums within his ken,
Or like a truant when with fearful eyes
He views the upturned rod. So I stared then
Upon the questions in a wild surprise,
Silent, and peakish, chewing at my pen.

Arthur Compton RICKETT 1869_1937

Parody John KEATS 1795_1821 – On First Looking into Chapman’s Homer

____________

On First Looking through Krafft-Ebing's Psychopathia Sexualis

Much have I travelled in those realms of old
Where many a whore in hall-doors could be seen,
Of many a bonnie brothel or shebeen
Which bawds connived at by policemen hold.
I too have listened when the Quay was coaled,
But never did I taste the Pure Obscene –
Mych less imagine that my past was clean –
Till this Kraft-Ebing out his story told.
Then felt I rather taken by surprise
As on the evening when I met Macran,
And retrospective thoughts and doubts did rise –
Was I quite normal when my life began
With loves that leans towards rural sympathies
Potent behind a cart with Mary Ann?

Oliver St John GOGARTY 1878_1957
Parody John KEATS 1795_1821 – On First Looking into Chapman’s Homer
___________

On First Looking into Chapman’s Homer

O I had been to sunny Spain
And I had been to Rome,
I’d been to Majorca again and again,
New York was as good as home,
But the scholars they spoke of a golden land
Described by an ancient Greek;
Yet all I got was Blackpool sand
Till I heard Chapman speak.

O he was like a big pools win
Or a dance by Legs and Co.,
O he was as good as an hour of sin
With a hostess in Soho,
And I felt like Cortez when he saw
The sea from a Darien peak –
‘Cos Pope does a lot but Chapman more
[If you can’t read Homer in Greek].

T. GRIFFITHS
Parody John KEATS 1795_1821 – On First Looking into Chapman’s Homer

-----

On first looking into Chapman's Homer

Much have I travelled in East Lothian and Dundee,
Many fine buildings and bridges for to see.
I have even journeyed as far as Arran,
Though sad to say it is rather barren.

Frequently of another expanse had I been told,
Described by Homer, the Greek writer of old.
But only when I read Mr. Chapman’s translation
Did I have a very strong sensation.

An amateur astronomer was what I felt like,
When he sees a new planet or comet late at night;
Or a fat Spaniard who is to become quite famous,
Looking at the sea and wondering what its name is.

Parody John KEATS 1795_1821 – On First Looking into Chapman’s Homer

poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On First Looking Into Chapman's Homer

Much have I travell'd in the realms of gold,
And many goodly states and kingdoms seen;
Round many western islands have I been
Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold.
Oft of one wide expanse had I been told
That deep-brow'd Homer ruled as his demesne;
Yet did I never breathe its pure serene
Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold:
Then felt I like some watcher of the skies
When a new planet swims into his ken;
Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes
He star'd at the Pacific--and all his men
Look'd at each other with a wild surmise--
Silent, upon a peak in Darien.

poem by John Keats
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet XI. On First Looking Into Chapman's Homer

Much have I travell'd in the realms of gold,
And many goodly states and kingdoms seen;
Round many western islands have I been
Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold.
Oft of one wide expanse had I been told
That deep-brow'd Homer ruled as his demesne;
Yet did I never breathe its pure serene
Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold:
Then felt I like some watcher of the skies
When a new planet swims into his ken;
Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes
He star'd at the Pacific -- and all his men
Look'd at each other with a wild surmise --
Silent, upon a peak in Darien.

poem by John Keats
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On First Looking into Bee Palmer's Shoulders

WITH BOWS TO KEATS AND KEITH'S
["The World's Most Famous Shoulders"]

Then I felt like some watcher of the skies
When a new planet swims into his ken,
Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes
He stared at the Pacific--and all his men
Looked at each other with a wild surmise--
Silent upon a peak in Darien."
"BEE" PALMER has taken the raw human--all too human--stuff of the underworld, with its sighs of sadness and regret, its mad merriment, its swift blaze of passion, its turbulent dances, its outlaw music, its songs of the social bandit, and made a new art product of the theatre. She is to the sources of jazz and the blues what François Villon was to the wild life of Paris. Both have found exquisite blossoms of art in the sector of life most removed from the concert room and the boudoir, and their harvest has the vigour, the resolute life, the stimulating quality, the indelible impress of daredevil, care-free, do-as-you-please lives of the picturesque men and women who defy convention. --From Keith's Press Agent.

Much have I travell'd in the realms of jazz,
And many goodly arms and shoulders seen
Quiver and Quake--if you know what I mean;
I've seen a lot, as everybody has.
Some plaudits got, while others got the razz.
But when I saw Bee Palmer, shimmy queen,
I shook--in sympathy--my troubled bean,
And said, "This is the utter razmatazz."

Then felt I like some patient with a pain
When a new surgeon swims into his ken,
Or like stout Brodie, when, with reeling brain,
He jumped into the river. There and then
I swayed and took the morning train
To Norwalk, Naugatuck, and Darien.

poem by Franklin P. Adams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Here now John Keats, I salute you

Some of your poems
were met with contempt
and yet above most
English poets your work rise.

Your words are deep and wise
and sweep past time
in eloquence,
breaking right through history
with magic and imagery
and only after death
your true honour comes.

Now famous are your name
and on first reading
“Chapman’s Homer”
I was convinced
to read Homer’s Iliad and the Odyssey.

Your “La Belle Dame sans Merci”
and “Lamia” are reflected
in my own verse
and here now
John Keats, I salute you
while your words
are immortal to me.

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Open The Door, Homer (1)

by Bob Dylan
Now, there's a certain thing
That I learned from Jim
That he'd always make sure I'd understand
And that is that there's a certain way
That a man must swim
If he expects to live off
Of the fat of the land.
Open the door, Homer,
I've heard it said before.
Open the door, Homer,
I've heard it said before
But I ain't gonna hear it said no more.
Now, there's a certain thing
That I learned from my friend, Mouse
A fella who always blushes
And that is that ev'ryone
Must always flush out his house
If he don't expect to be
Goin' 'round housing flushes.
Open the door, Homer,
I've heard it said before.
Open the door, Homer,
I've heard it said before
But I ain't gonna hear it said no more.
"Take care of all your memories"
Said my friend, Mick
"For you cannot relive them
And remember when you're out there
Tryin' to heal the sick
That you must always
First forgive them."
Open the door, Homer,
I've heard it said before.
Open the door, Homer,
I've heard it said before
But I ain't gonna hear it said no more.

song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Open The Door, Homer

Now, theres a certain thing
That I learned from jim
That hed always make sure Id understand
And that is that theres a certain way
That a man must swim
If he expects to live off
Of the fat of the land.
Open the door, homer,
Ive heard it said before.
Open the door, homer,
Ive heard it said before
But I aint gonna hear it said no more.
Now, theres a certain thing
That I learned from my friend, mouse
A fella who always blushes
And that is that evryone
Must always flush out his house
If he dont expect to be
Goin round housing flushes.
Open the door, homer,
Ive heard it said before.
Open the door, homer,
Ive heard it said before
But I aint gonna hear it said no more.
Take care of all your memories
Said my friend, mick
For you cannot relive them
And remember when youre out there
Tryin to heal the sick
That you must always
First forgive them.
Open the door, homer,
Ive heard it said before.
Open the door, homer,
Ive heard it said before
But I aint gonna hear it said no more.

song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Much have I traveled in the realms of gold, and many goodly states and kingdoms seen.

quote by John Keats
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To John Keats, Poet, At Spring Time

I cannot hold my peace, John Keats;
There never was a spring like this;
It is an echo, that repeats
My last year's song and next year's bliss.
I know, in spite of all men say
Of Beauty, you have felt her most.
Yea, even in your grave her way
Is laid. Poor, troubled, lyric ghost,
Spring never was so fair and dear
As Beauty makes her seem this year.

I cannot hold my peace, John Keats,
I am as helpless in the toil
Of Spring as any lamb that bleats
To feel the solid earth recoil
Beneath his puny legs. Spring beats
her tocsin call to those who love her,
And lo! the dogwood petals cover
Her breast with drifts of snow, and sleek
White gulls fly screaming to her, and hover
About her shoulders, and kiss her cheek,
While white and purple lilacs muster
A strength that bears them to a cluster
Of color and odor; for her sake
All things that slept are now awake.

And you and I, shall we lie still,
John Keats, while Beauty summons us?
Somehow I feel your sensitive will
Is pulsing up some tremulous
Sap road of a maple tree, whose leaves
Grow music as they grow, since your
Wild voice is in them, a harp that grieves
For life that opens death's dark door.
Though dust, your fingers still can push
The Vision Splendid to a birth,
Though now they work as grass in the hush
Of the night on the broad sweet page of the earth.

'John Keats is dead,' they say, but I
Who hear your full insistent cry
In bud and blossom, leaf and tree,
Know John Keats still writes poetry.
And while my head is earthward bowed
To read new life sprung from your shroud,
Folks seeing me must think it strange
That merely spring should so derange
My mind. They do not know that you,
John Keats, keep revel with me, too.

poem by Countee Cullen
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I can’t sleep

I can’t sleep. Homer, and the taut white sails.
I could the list of ships read only to a half:
The long-long breed, the train of flying cranes
Had lifted once the ancient Greece above.

The wedge of cranes to alien far frontier --
On heads of kings, as foam, crowns shine --
Where do you sail? If Helen were not here,
What Troy then means for you, Achaeia’s people fine?

And Homer and the sea are moved by only love.
Whom must I listen to? Homer is silent yet,
And blackened sea with roar comes above,
Sunk in triumphant noise, head of my sleepless bed.

poem by Osip Emilevich Mandelstam
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Insomnia. Homer. Taut canvas.

Insomnia. Homer. Taut canvas.
Half the catalogue of ships is mine:
that flight of cranes, long stretched-out line,
that once rose, out of Hellas.

To an alien land, like a phalanx of cranes –
Foam of the gods on the heads of kings –
Where do you sail? What would the things
of Troy, be to you, Achaeans, without Helen?

The sea, or Homer – all moves by love’s glow.
Which should I hear? Now Homer is silent,
and the Black Sea thundering its oratory, turbulent,
and, surging, roars against my pillow.

poem by Osip Emilevich Mandelstam
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The songs are not necessarily autobiographical. A lot of songs are a combination of influences. It might be some part of my life, or something I've felt, or something somebody's told me. It all comes together.

quote by Tracy Chapman
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The author of the Iliad is either Homer or, if not Homer, somebody else of the same name.

quote by Aldous Huxley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I sound like Homer. I mean Winslow Homer.

quote by Charles Olson
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The present in New York is so powerful that the past is lost.

quote by John Jay Chapman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Everybody in America is soft, and hates conflict. The cure for this, both in politics and social life, is the same - hardihood. Give them raw truth.

quote by John Jay Chapman
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Good government is the outcome of private virtue.

quote by John Jay Chapman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Pig's-Eye View Of Literature

The Lives and Times of John Keats,
Percy Bysshe Shelley, and
George Gordon Noel, Lord Byron

Byron and Shelley and Keats
Were a trio of Lyrical treats.
The forehead of Shelley was cluttered with curls,
And Keats never was a descendant of earls,
And Byron walked out with a number of girls,
But it didn't impair the poetical feats
Of Byron and Shelley,
Of Byron and Shelley,
Of Byron and Shelley and Keats.

poem by Dorothy Parker
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I willingly took John Lennon's life. What I did was despicable.

quote by Mark David Chapman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All progress is experimental.

quote by John Jay Chapman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It is three and a half hours long, four characters wide and a cesspool deep.

quote by John Jay Chapman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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