Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Tag
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’m feeling a little weird today as you’ll see when you read the following post. I always like to have a reasonable amount of weirdness in my life but today I have more than my share. Therefore, I’ll pass the following items on to you to help me shed some of my current level of weirdness. Oh yeah, “You’re welcome.”
- An agoraphobic man who had vowed never to leave his house again after he was assaulted at age 18 decided, after 30 years of self-induced imprisonment, to take a walk outside. But the strain of being outside was too much for him and he suffered a heart attack while strolling along.
- A man was speeding down the highway at 110 mph when he struck the rear of a car, immediately killing the two people inside. The victims? The man’s mother and her elderly neighbor, who she was taking on a leisurely drive to see the town’s Christmas lights.
- Author Morgan Robertson wrote his story of a gigantic luxury ship, the Titan, in 1898. In his fictional tale, the ship, advertised as unsinkable, hits an iceberg and tragic tragically goes down, killing many passengers and crew. In 1912, the real-life ship the Titanic met a shockingly similar fate.
- A man attempting to rob a convenience store in Cherry Hill, North Carolina, thwarted his own plans when he dropped his gun. The gun hit the ground, went off, and the bullet lodged in the robber’s foot.
“I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity.”
Edgar Allen Poe
- A wealthy Connecticut woman named Helen Dow Peck believed messages she received from Ouija boards. One day in 1919, the board spelled out that she should leave her entire estate to a man named John Gale Forbes. She did but the only problem was she didn’t know anybody by that name. In fact, after she died in 1956, her lawyer did a search throughout the world and discovered that, despite what all the all-knowing spirits had said, there was nobody with that name.
- Four men dressed like Elvis Presley jumped out of a plane to promote a Boston nightclub opening in 1996. Three of them lived, but one unlucky Elvis died when he caught a gust of wind and was blown out to sea.
“Those who dream by day are cognizant of many
things that escape those who dream only at night.”
Edgar Allan Poe
HUMAN RIGHTS SHOULD INCLUDE WEIRDNESS
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?
Have you ever been reading a book and all of a sudden WHAM, something grabs your attention. That happened to me last night at midnight as I was reading book five of the Dune series. I read this paragraph, and it just encapsulated how I feel about the current state of the country after years of Obama and Bidens leadership. I’ll also throw in the idiot WOKE generation as well since they’re just another arm of the liberal establishment trying desperately to turn the USA into a sad copy of any number of European countries verging on socialism. Here it is . . .
“Most civilization is based on cowardice. It’s so easy to civilize by teaching cowardice. You water down the standards which would lead to bravery, you restrain the will. You regulate the appetites; you fence in the horizons. You make a law for every moment. You deny the existence of chaos. You teach even the children to breathe slowly. You tame.”
Frank Herbert
WARNING – WARNING – WARNING
WELCOME TO THE MILLENNIAL UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
As I was preparing this post, I decided midsentence to step away from poetry for a day or two and to return to one of my favorite things which are limericks. I have quite the collection of limericks of all types and unfortunately, I have hundreds that I really can’t post on this blog, no matter how much readers continue to request them. I’ve picked out a few random samples from different historical periods and I’ll post them over the next few weeks. Here is my history by limerick . . .
***
World War II
A lady of doubtful nativity
Had an ass of extreme sensitivity.
She could sit on the lap
Of a Nazi or Jap,
And detect Fifth Column activity.
🪖🗽🪖
Don’t dip your prick in a WAC
Don’t ride the breast of a WAVE.
Just sit in the sand
And do it by hand
And buy bonds with the money you save.
🪖🗽🪖
There was a young lady from Beaman,
Who was known as a sexual demon.
“These soldiers,” said she,
“Mean nothing to me,
For what I really like is the semen.”
🪖🗽🪖
A female Nazi from Bredo
Advances her sinister credo,
By displaying her charms
During air raid alarms,
Inflaming the warden’s libido.
***
“The poet is a reporter interviewing his own heart.”
Christopher Morely
***
Poetry at times can be beautiful. It can bring tears to your eyes and joy to your heart but as with anything it also has the ability to become something dark and disturbing. I try to make a point of reading samples of poetry from as many poets as I can. Some of the most touching poems are not about happy moments running through fields of flowers with birds flying around, but of deep sadness and pain.
On a regular basis I make purchases from thrift bookstores on eBay. A book arrived at my home recently and I knew reading it was going to be extremely difficult. It’s a selection of poetry written by young people who have had to deal with divorcing parents. The book is titled “broken hearts… healing”, Young Poets Speaking Out, compiled and edited by Tom Worthen, Ph.D. I just finished reading the first half of that book and it forced me to deal with the pain I caused to my own son. Many years ago, I ended a twenty-year marriage and caused a great deal of pain to a young man that we adopted (at age twelve) from a number of state-run foster homes. He deserved better than we were able to give him at the time, and this book brought it all back with a vengeance. Here are two poems that brought tears to my eyes.
TUG OF WAR
Nobody has the life I have,
I can’t imagine if the whole world did.
My parents don’t even talk,
They get to ask who wants us and when.
It is like me and my two sisters are in the middle of everything.
So I hope you don’t have the life I have,
And if you do I’m sorry.
by Beth, Age 11
***
WHERE IS MY DAD?
He comes around like he cares,
but when I was young he was not there.
He has a new family and a wife to love dear,
when I was around he made me feel weird.
When I was alone crying in my bed,
was he there, no, it was mom instead.
When I look at my friends with their moms and dads,
I think if he didn’t mess it up,
Oh, what I could have had!
by Dana, Age 13
***
“Poetry is to prose as dancing is to walking.”
by John Wain
***
As I worked my way slowly through the public school system back in the 1960’s I received little or no information or exposure to poetry. It was mentioned in passing in some classes but there never was any serious time devoted to it. It just seems to me that making some poetry (not just the classics) available to younger students might just motivate them to either read more poetry or to write their own. A gentlemen named Richard Lewis, a lecturer on children’s literature and creative writing, apparently agreed with me. In cooperation with UNESCO, he traveled through eighteen English speaking countries around the world collecting poetry written by children between the ages of five and thirteen. Three thousand poems were collected with the best 200 published in his book, “Miracles” published in 1966. I’ve picked out two samples to give you some idea of just how talented many of the youngsters can be when expressing their thoughts in a poetic fashion.
THUNDER
by Glenys Van Every, Age 9, Australia
I hear
the drummers
strike
the sky.
***
SUMMER
by Margaret Bendig, Age 10, United States
Inviting, rippling waters
Waiting for little toes
Hurry, go get changed!
***
After reading a few pages of these poems I had a minor epiphany. These children were not trained in poetry but as they wrote their poems many of them began to look very much like free-verse haiku’s. Having no set restrictions on the length of lines and syllable counting allows the young poets freedom to truly express themselves.
Of course, being the irreverent SOB that I am I decided to write this haiku of mine and take it down a road not normally traveled. It contains some reference to nature but also just a touch of my humor. It’s a poetic mortal sin to write them this way and I’m sure it will tweak the noses of a few people. It’s always fun at times to make some people a little crazy.
*❤️*
NATURAL
by Me, Age: Old
Out of the corner of my eye
A bird sails quietly by.
A flash of golden sunlight,
And I have bird shit on my thigh.
***
SMILE, I DID INCLUDE SOME NATURE
