Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Category
I think today the title tells you everything you need to know. Here’s a selection of poetry written by children from English-speaking countries around the world. It always makes for a really good read and often motivates me to write poetry of my own. Enjoy. . .
THE SEA
By Susan Shoenblum, Age 11, United States
The untamed sea is human
Its emotions erupt in waves,
The sea sends her message of anger
As the waves roll over my head
💌💌💌
THE SPIDER
By J. Jenkins, age 10, New Zealand
With black, wicked eyes, hairy and legs and creepy crawling movements
Black shoe polish coat shining dully,
Hairy black thin legs.
Beautiful, silky and soft web
Dew hangs like miniature diamonds on lazy fingers.
A quick movement and this monster disappears.
💌💌💌
SHADOW
By Pramila Parmar, Age 11, Kenya
My shadow is very bad and foolish
Wherever I go it follows,
I lash it, I whip it,
still, it follows me.
One day I will kick it and it will never follow me.
😕😕😕
By me . . .
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
I feel like a poet
And so can you!
🤪
Here we go again with another rainy and gray day. Spring really wants to make an appearance but for some reason she’s having difficulties. The sun shines brightly for 2 hours a day broken up into 15-minute segments. The problem then becomes when you have a “freezing your ass off” moment every time a cloud goes by. Truthfully Mother Nature is really starting to piss me off.
Now let me get back to the subject. A few months ago, I purchased a pile of old used books which appear to have once been library books. I have books from libraries all over the country. One in particular is a book of limericks (mostly clean) written by some well-known authors and celebrities. See what you think.
By: Lewis Carroll
His sister named Lucy O’Finner,
Grew constantly thinner and thinner,
The reason was plain,
She slipped out in the rain,
And was never allowed any dinner.
💥💥
By: Ogden Nash
It was an old man of Calcutta,
Who coated his tonsils with butta,
Thus, converting his snore
From a thunderous roar
To a soft, oleaginous mutta.
By: Oliver Wendell Holmes
The Reverend Henry Ward Beecher
Called a hen a most elegant creature.
The Hen, pleased with that,
Laid an egg in his hat,
And thus did the hen reward Beecher.
💥💥
By: Rudyard Kipling
There was once a small boy in Québec
Stood buried in snow to his neck.
When asked: “Are you friz?”
He said: “Yes, I is,
“But we don’t call this cold in Québec.”
💥💥💥
As you can imagine I read hundreds of limericks a month but even I was taken by surprise when I read these four. Just goes to show you that even celebrated writers and authors have a real bitch of a time writing limericks. I’m sure that if of you took a few minutes, you could write better stuff than this. Only one of these four showed me something interesting and that was the one by Oliver Wendall Holmes. Read it carefully and see if you spot his clever efforts.
LIMERICK WRITERS RULE!
Bath Abby, England
Here lies Ann Mann.
She lived an old maid and
She died an Old Mann
🪦🪦🪦
Bayfield, Mississippi
Here lies my wife in earthly mold,
Who when she lived did nothing but scold.
Please wake her not, for now she’s still,
I’m alone, but now I have my will.
Boston Granary Cemetery
Here lie I bereft of breath
Because a cough carried me off.
Then a coffin they carried me off in.
🪦🪦🪦
Skaneateles, New York
Underneath this pile of stones
Lies all that’s left of Sally Jones.
Her name was Briggs, it was not Jones,
But Jones was used to rhyme with stones.
The last words of Pablo Picasso (1881-1973)
“Drink to me.”
AMEN BROTHER!!
I’m feeling the need for some limericks today. I recently came across a book that I picked up at an on-line thrift bookstore and it was a former Boise Public Library book with a date of 2015. It’s a book of limericks written by children for children and some of them are priceless. With that in mind here are four that I particularly liked. I hope you will too.
A teacher of English, Ms. White,
Whose students got everything right,
Would put on her shades
As she wrote down her grades
Because all of her kids were so bright.
😉😉😉
“Ahoy!” Said a pirate named Marrrrty,
Who was fun loving, healthy, and hearrrrty.
“I believe it’s my duty
To go shake my booty,
Cause nothing is more fun than a parrrrty!”
🤪🤪🤪
Said little first grader Pam Plunkett,
“The past tense of ‘shrink it’ is ‘shrunk it.”
Told, “Yes, that is true!
“Just who taught that to you?”
She said, “Not really sure, I just thunk it.”
🤗🤗🤗
A French chef we all call Miss Margo
Cooks lunch at our school here in Fargo.
But we wouldn’t eat
Any yucky frog meat,
So she makes something’ she calls “S cargo.”
*****
SPECIAL THANKS TO BRIAN CLEARY
I’m a fan of some poetry. That being said I prefer short poetry like haikus or limericks. What I like even more is poetry written by younger children because it seems they write what they’re feeling and that makes it special. In the past I’ve posted poems from younger children collected from English-speaking countries around the world and today I offer four more excellent examples of their work. Their poetry is alarmingly good for their young ages and today’s topic will be Feelings. Enjoy!
By Paul Wollner – Age 7 – United States
I love you, Big World.
I wish I could call you
And tell you a secret:
That I love you, World.
*****
By Mary Flett – Age 9 – New Zealand
A loving arm
Shelters me
From any harm.
That shelteredness
Of kindness
Flows around me.
*****
By Ngaire Noffke – Age 12 – New Zealand
I shook his hand.
I touched him.
How proud I felt.
He said “Hello” softly.
I lost my voice,
But in my mind
I said everything.
*****
by Karen Crawford – Age 9 – United States
Have you ever felt like nobody?
Just a tiny speck of air.
When everyone’s around you,
And you are just not there.
*****
THANKS ONCE AGAIN TO RICHARD LEWIS
Today I’d like to talk about virgins and virginity. Whether we like it or not there aren’t as many virgins available as there once were. Back in the day virginity was prized by almost everyone but I think those days have passed us by forever. I’m reminded of a joke I heard a few years ago that the only virgins left were “ugly third graders”. It was funny at the time but the more I thought about it the more unfunny it became. I’ve been around a very long time and my experience with virgins is damn near nonexistent. With the advent of “soaking” (thanks to those devote Mormons), I’m not entirely sure if the term virginity even applies anymore. Since I admittedly have no clue about virginity, I thought I’d revert to my library for some soulful inspiration. My first choice when diving into my library is always limericks. Here are four limericks concerning virginity or the lack thereof. Enjoy!
💥
There was a young fellow named Biddle
Whose girl had to teach him to fiddle.
She grabbed hold of his bow
And said, “If you want to know,
You can try parting my hair in the middle.”
💥💥
There was a young virgin of Dover
Who was screwed in the woods by a drover.
When the going got hard
He greased her with lard,
Which felt nice, so they started all over.
💥💥💥
There was a young girl from Hoboken
Who claimed that her hymen was broken
From riding a bike
On a cobblestone pike,
But it really was broken from pokin’.
💥💥💥💥
There was a young girl named McKnight
Who got drunk with her boyfriend one night.
She came to in bed
With a split maidenhead –
That’s the last time she ever was tight.
THANKS TO RONALD STANZA
I thought we should visit some children today and read some of their outstanding poetry. Many of these kids are between the ages of 4 and 13 and are from various English-speaking countries around the globe. I find their poetry extremely innocent and pure because they write what they feel without any real awareness of political correctness or the many biases that seem to be everywhere these days. Enjoy them.
🚸🚸🚸
By Sarah Gatti, Age 10, New Zealand
THE SUNBEAMS
It’s a sunny, sunny day today,
There’s not a fluffy cloud in the sky.
The sky’s all blue in a light blue haze,
The orange sun is shining as it stalks along the sea,
And leaves a shiny golden path, for me to walk along.
🚸🚸🚸
By Nelda Dishman, Age 12, United States
TREES
The trees share their shade with
all who pass by,
But their leaves whisper secrets
only to the wind.
🚸🚸🚸
By Jewell Lawton, age 8, Australia
GOD
I wonder
how God lives
in heaven,
when the clouds
seem to be collapsing
like broken birds.
🚸🚸🚸
By Paul Thompson, Age 6, New Zealand
MY FEELINGS
I am fainty,
I am fizzy,
I am floppy.
🚸🚸🚸
THANKS TO MIRACLES & RICHARD LEWIS
A few weeks ago, I posted a number of limericks written in the World War II era. Your response was much better than I anticipated so I thought I’d dig up a few more from that same era to make you laugh and smile all these years later.
A WAVE who had duty at sea,
Complained that it hurt her to pee.
Said the Chief Bosun’s mate,
“That accounts for the fate
Of the cook and the captain and me.”
In the Army and Navy, the toast is
To the talented USO hostess
Who was diddled and screwed
While she tried to conclude
Which service she really liked mostest.
A female Nazi from Bredo
Advances her sinister credo,
By displaying her charms
During air raid alarms,
Inflaming the warden’s libido.
An oversexed G.I. in France
Decided to take just a chance,
But the fairest of foxholes
In Paris are pox holes,
And now he’s got France in his pants.
💥💥💥
WAR IS TRULY HELL
🤠🤠🤠
If you didn’t already know this, limericks in their own way are historical documents. In the past I reprinted a selection of World War II era limericks but how could I possibly forget the interesting limericks created by some of our famous cowboy historians. I knew I would find some bawdy limericks about our western heritage as written by bored saloon patrons or from a few bored bar maidens, or even a select few university scholars like Ray Allen Billington (Limericks, Historical and Hysterical). Try these on for size.
While Sue lay supine ‘neath a willow,
She was screwed by a large armadillo,
And remarked to the same,
As both of them came,
That the next time he might bring a pillow.
🐎🐎🐎
When a lady returned from Big Moose,
Her husband exclaimed, “What the deuce,
I’m quite reconciled
To the call of the wild,
But where did you get the papoose?”
🐴🐴🐴
An Indian, who claims we can trust her,
Insists she was raped by George Custer.
Despite what he planned,
His three-inch last stand,
Was all Colonel Custer could muster.
🤠🤠🤠
Cowboys at the end of the Drive
Were so horny they scarce could survive.
So, the whores of Dodge City
Out of greed (not for pity)
Worked double shifts: from nine til five.
💩💩💩
WHO DOESN’T LOVE HISTORY?
If you’ve read this blog at all you know I consistently use famous quotations from famous people to help make a point. Over the years having all of those quotes available has made my life much easier. Not all quotes are complementary, and I found almost as many nasty and mean quotes as good ones. Here are some quotes that some people probably wish they hadn’t made. You be the judge…
“Suburbia is where the developer bulldozes out the trees, then names the streets after them.” Bill Vaughn
“You have set up in New York Harbor a monstrous idol which you call Liberty. The only thing that remains to complete the monument is to put on its pedestal the inscription written by Dante on the gates of Hell: “All hope abandon, ye who enter here.” George Bernard Shaw
“St. Laurent has excellent taste. The more he copies me, the better taste he displays.” Coco Chanel
“Everyone wants to understand painting. Why don’t they try to understand the singing of the birds? People love the night, a flower, everything which surrounds them without trying to understand. But painting – that they must understand.” Pablo Picasso
“There are moments when art attains almost the dignity of manual labor.” Oscar Wilde
This next section concerns a prolific contributor to every subject imaginable: Anonymous. I truly enjoy these mean and nasty unidentified criticizers.
“Critics are the stupid who discuss the wise.”
“An architect is two percent gentleman and ninety-eight percent renegade car salesman.”
“The Eiffel Tower in Paris is the Empire State Building after taxes.”
“A modern artist is one who throws paint on a canvas, wipes it off with a cloth, and sells the cloth.”
“They couldn’t find the artist, so they hung the picture.”
“Poetry is living proof that rhyme doesn’t pay.”
“Dancing is the perpendicular expression of a horizontal desire.”
LIFE SUCKS AND THEN YOU DIE
(ANONYMOUS)
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