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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
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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.'

poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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.

poem by P.B. Shelley from Ozymandias (1818)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Ozymandias (in reply to Percy Bysshe Shelley)

I saw a traveller coming from the desert
wrapped in white cloth
and the man greeted me, asked for water
and told me about Ozymandias, the great king
whose broken statue still commanded respect
whose kingdom was now laid bare
from the covering sand

and suddenly the sky darkened
as if the sun for moments took flight
and far of out in the desert
the red dust hang like a huge sandstorm

but the size of it was severe
and I saw something rising, materializing
getting form
the huge legs of stone blazing alive
and the entire body of it,
that colossal wreck became whole

and around it was gathered
a might crowd of armed men
bowing down to its honour
and praying to it
while a voice like thunder
cried out for the entire world
to despair, to bow before
before its supreme reign,

before it turned north,
marching with its army
right into Europe
to destroy, to enslave
and to take with force.

[Reference: Ozymandias by Percy Bysshe Shelley.]

poem by Gert Strydom
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Nature’s philosophy (Novelinee)

(after Percy Bysshe Shelley)

No things in nature acts only single
as all things are set to love each other;
why can we not also such like mingle
to be more than like sister and brother?
In a loving, caring kind of emotion,
embracing the wind touches the flowers
and to each other there is devotion,
the sun shines with its secret powers
while the earth is kissed by rain showers.

[Reference: “Love’s philosophy” by Percy Bysshe Shelley.]

poem by Gert Strydom
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The waning moon

(after Percy Bysshe Shelley)

Shapelessly white it spread its light
ailing like a old withered man
in the darkness of that night
its half a thumb’s span

rising very slow
taking half steps before pausing for breath
it had a whimpering kind of glow
as if it was very near to death

wandering in the elemental space half-insane
trying to find its way through a myriad of bright stars
as if feebleness, atrophy had rotten its fading brain
as if it wore a crisscross of scars

while its colour was a kind of pale
thinly covered by a cloud’s veil.

[Reference: “The waning moon” by Percy Bysshe Shelley.]

poem by Gert Strydom
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To her who once loved me

(after Percy Bysshe Shelley)

Princess, why did you call me
with longing in your voice,
but when you wanted to be free,
did not leave me another choice?

In some of your writings that to me you address
you speak of passed bliss
there are tears and sheer unhappiness
and it’s as if you are yearning for another kiss?

It is now running to years
that I have to live with emptiness
and I am brave beyond any fears
but I am viewing any friendship with a kind of aloofness.

Keep from sending love and promises that have to be made,
if your love like the stars at break of day is soon to fade.

[Reference: “To Emilia Viviani” by Percy Bysshe Shelley.]

poem by Gert Strydom
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I dreamt of walking in a lovely garden

(after Percy Bysshe Shelley)

I dreamt of walking in a lovely garden
and it was in the time of spring
where sprouts appeared where the ground did harden
and everywhere I could hear birds sing.

Around me there were flowers everywhere,
irises in colours of yellow, purple and blue,
scented roses in white, orange and red that made me stare
at their particular lovely hue.

Everything was fresh and new after the rain showers
and in that garden I was somewhat cosy,
I wanted to pick a bunch of flowers,
tie them into a scented posy

and I wondered for who,
as no one to me was true.

[Reference: “The Question” by Percy Bysshe Shelley.]

poem by Gert Strydom
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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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Fragment: A Wanderer

He wanders, like a day-appearing dream,
Through the dim wildernesses of the mind;
Through desert woods and tracts, which seem
Like ocean, homeless, boundless, unconfined.

poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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A Serpent-Face

His face was like a snake's -- wrinkled and loose
And withered--

poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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History is a cyclic poem written by time upon the memories of man.

quote by Percy Bysshe Shelley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The soul's joy lies in doing.

quote by Percy Bysshe Shelley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poetry is a mirror which makes beautiful that which is distorted.

quote by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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O, wind, if winter comes, can spring be far behind?

quote by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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I think that the leaf of a tree, the meanest insect on which we trample, are in themselves arguments more conclusive than any which can be adduced that some vast intellect animates Infinity.

quote by Percy Bysshe Shelley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Rude Wind Is Singing

The rude wind is singing
The dirge of the music dead;
The cold worms are clinging
Where kisses were lately fed.

poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?

quote by Percy Bysshe Shelley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There is a harmony in autumn, and a luster in its sky, which through the summer is not heard or seen, as if it could not be, as if it had not been!

quote by Percy Bysshe Shelley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poetry is a sword of lightning, ever unsheathed, which consumes the scabbard that would contain it.

quote by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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And That I Walk Thus Proudly Crowned Withal

And that I walk thus proudly crowned withal
Is that 'tis my distinction; if I fall,
I shall not weep out of the vital day,
To-morrow dust, nor wear a dull decay.

poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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