Arthur Guiterman (pronounced /ˈɡɪtərmən/; November 20, 1871 - January 11, 1943) was an American writer best known for his humorous poems.
Guiterman was born of American parents in Vienna, graduated from the College of the City of New York in 1891, and was married in 1909 to Vida Lindo. He was an editor of the Woman's Home Companion and the Literary Digest. In 1910, he cofounded the Poetry Society of America, and later served as its president in 1925-26. more »
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Arthur Guiterman Poems
The Chip on the Shoulder
Learn this now before you are older: Don’t go through life with a chip on your shoulder, Always aggrieved and ever offended,
In the Hospital
Because on the branch that is tapping my pane A sun-wakened leaf-bud, uncurled, Is bursting its rusty brown sheathing in twain, I know there is Spring in the world.
On the Vanity of Earthly Greatness
The tusks which clashed in mighty brawls Of mastodons, are billiard balls.
The Antiseptic Baby and the Prophylactic Pup Were playing in the garden when the Bunny gamboled up;
Amœbas at the start Were not complex; They tore themselves apart And started Sex. And Sex has ruled the earth From then till this, Producing ...
The Idol-Maker prays
Great god whom I shall carve from this gray stone Wherein thou liest, hid to all but me, Grant thou that when my art hath made thee known And others bow, I shall not worship thee.
I never loved your plains!-- Your gentle valleys, Your drowsy country lanes And pleachéd alleys.
Habits of the Hippopotamus
The hippopotamus is strong And huge of head and broad of bustle; The limbs on which he rolls along Are big with hippopotomuscle.
Pershing at the Front
The General came in a new tin hat To the shell-torn front where the war was at; With a faithful Aide at his good right hand
The Great Tyrannosaurus
The Great Tyrannosaurus Lived centuries ago; Through marshes wet and porous He rambled to and fro.
My Hills of Dreams
High on my hills of dreams - Dear hills that know me! And then how fair will seem The land below me!
The Deer don't dine When a Wolf's about, And the Porcupine Sticks his quill-points out.
Oh, who would choose to be a traveler?- That anxious railway-guide unraveler Who spends his nights in berths and bunks,
The Legend Of The First Cam-u-el: An Ara...
Across the sands of Syria, Or possibly Algeria, Or some benighted neighborhood of barrenness and drouth, There came the Prophet Samu-u-el
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The Chip on the Shoulder
Learn this now before you are older:
Don’t go through life with a chip on your shoulder,
Always aggrieved and ever offended,
Fancying wrongs that are not intended.
Let not a sense of humor desert you,
Take it that nobody means to hurt you,
Find no insult in idle chatter,
Pass it over; it doesn’t matter.
Look for the best in everybody,
Value the wool, forget the shoddy;
Get in the habit of liking people.
Love is the spire on every steeple.