Day after day, night after night, Laura kept watch in vain, Listening to the MUSN’TS Of the grownups world, In sullen silence of exceeding pain.
She listened to the DON’TS She listened to the SHOULDN’TS Never hearing the goblin cry, She chose to listen to the IMMPOSSIBLES; And missed their whispers, “Come by, come by”
And never again as had always been As her hair grew thin with decay, Did these goblin men Hawk their fruits near the glen. So she grieved when they slipped away.
Until one night a gentle taunt These creatures once more appeared. Against a fair full waxen moon To wash away her fear. And a whisper “Laura - listen close to me”- Anything can happen child Anything can be.
From childhood’s hour the jester told a silly joke. I have not seen the jester sing a funny song. From the sun the Queen asked, As it passed me flying by, “Must it last so long?” The prince and the princess fell asleep from the same source.
You say love is this, love is that: Well Columbus said that the world is round! Love has not even visited this country. Believe me I have been to the edge where the wild wind whirled, and peeked over the ledge where the blue smoke curls, and wind and the rain comb. Believe when I tell you, boys and girls, That love has not even visited this country. Just like Columbus was mistaken and said the world is round, The world is FLAT! Don’t you believe a word of that.
originally written by Shel Silverstain, re-written in the style of Charles Baudelaire. (References "Fountain of Blood", translated by Rachel Hadas)
Thanksgiving dinner's sad and thankless- The turkey's sobs gnawing deeply at my mind. When I try to eat it, The gruesome thought I cannot leave behind.
From Easter dinner's point of view, The feast runs with scarlet rills of slaughter. In the chicken, duck, and goose, All I see are festering wounds.
I once loved pork and tuna salad, But now my mind and eyes are flooded With sorrow, now that I've discovered, Nothing in nature remains unblooded.
I knew a woman lovely in her bones Her name was Peggy Ann McKay in the mornings When small birds sighed, She would sigh back at them; and say "I cannot go to school today" everyday there was a new excuse "I have The measles and the mumps, A gash, a rash and purple bumps. My mouth is wet, my Throat is dry, I'm going blind in my right eye. My tonsils are as big as rocks, I've counted sixteen chicken pox
Ah, when she moved, She moved more ways than one: The shapes a bright container can contain! Her leg is cut, her eyes are blue- She thinks it might be instamatic flu. She was the sickle; I, poor I, the rake, She cough and sneeze and gasp and choke, Her nose is cold, her toes are numb,
Her full lips pursed, the errant note to seize; Her tongue is filling up my mouth, She played it quick, she played it light and loose; My eyes, they dazzled at her flowing knees; Her several parts could keep a pure repose, Or one hip quiver with a mobile nose (She moved in circles, and those circles moved.) Her neck is stiff, her voice is weak, She hardly whisper when she speaks. She thinks her hair is falling out. But when she found out it was Saturday All of her sickness went away And then she went out to play
Inspired by One-Inch Tall/ Departmental By Shel Silverstein/By Robert Frost
Answer by Anthony Wallace
If you were one-inch tall, you’d stand in awe As an ant on a table cloth, bumps into a dormant moth The tear drop of the crying ant could be your swimming pool The dormant moth was many times its size and would be double that of yours If you were one-inch tall The ant was not the least distraught, as he turned to go about his business Not a touch, nor scrape, nor bump The ant went off on its duty, you wonder how long it would take for you to reach the store A month or maybe more, the ant could trek beneath the door within five seconds or less Would you use the ant for transportation, or maybe live in its hive You’d soon find you could do this an more If you were one-inch tall You could swing upon the antenna atop its head Use the dirt mounds as your bed However, you would be shocked to see, the ants purpose of being Whose search is to find God, the workers scurry to find the nature of time and space You’d come to realize living with the ants would lead you to an answer as to why I’m just one-inch tall
Michael Rodriguez Sonnet 4 Shakespeare March 6, 2011 Smart Pastiche Children’s Literature
Sonnetically Smart My dad gave me one dollar bill dost thou spend And I swapped it for two shiny quarters, beauty’s legacy And then I took the quarters And traded them to Lou Dost thou abuse? That three is more than two! Just then, along Nature calls thee to be gone And just ‘cause he can’t see beauty must be tombed with thee Four is more than three! And five is more than four lives th’ executor
Shakespeare & Silverstein: Sonnet 130/The Bagpipe Who Didn’t Say No
My turtle’s “no’s” are nothing like my “no’s”; Bagpipes are far more loud than her voice’s pitch; If kilts be plaid, why then her shell is plain; If hairs be pipes, rosewood drones grow on her head. I have seen turtles shell’d, brown and scaled, But no such shells see I on her back; And in some sounds is there more delight Than in the “Aaooga” that from my turtle honks, brays, neighs. I love to squeeze her middle, yet well I know That other turtles have a far more pleasing kiss; I grant I never saw a turtle-goddess go; My turtle, when she rests, lies on the smooth and sandy shore: And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare As any she belied with false compare.
“Thirsty Girl” By C.F. Doell From On Our Cisatlantic Shore (A mash of Silverstein’s Lazy Girl with Ferlinghetti’s poem 3 from A Coney Island of the Mind)
The thirsty girl lazily waiting waits for a drink of the water from the swiss mountain tops with Yodelers yodeling their yodels and secret springs of “Poland” in bath tubs and plastic bottles and the snow melts or so I’ve heard about the Global warming and Al Gore’s movie but it’s inconvenient to recycle or go green and adulterated rivers flow down waiting streams waiting mouths opened cold refrigerators open supermarkets groceried livelihoods of fly-by-night parenting For no more time exists where just a little drink could be waiting for her at the CVS a Quik Chek or ATM stop is all mom could get up off the couch or I could keep lying here on this floor on my back and wait for God to cry.
The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost/ Where the Sidewalk Ends Shel Silverstein
There is a place where the sidewalk ends Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And before the street begins, And sorry I could not travel both And there the grass grows soft and white, And be one traveler, long I stood And there the sun burns crimson bright, And looked down one as far as I could And there the moon-bird rests from his flight To where it bent in the undergrowth. To cool in the peppermint wind.
Then took the other, as just as fair, Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black And having perhaps the better claim, And the dark street winds and bends. Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same.
And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go, For the children, they mark, and the children, they know The place where the sidewalk ends. Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go, For the children, they mark, and the children, they know The place where the sidewalk ends. I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.
Listening to Goblins
ReplyDeleteby
Lisa Gulvin
Day after day, night after night,
Laura kept watch in vain,
Listening to the MUSN’TS
Of the grownups world,
In sullen silence of exceeding pain.
She listened to the DON’TS
She listened to the SHOULDN’TS
Never hearing the goblin cry,
She chose to listen to the IMMPOSSIBLES;
And missed their whispers, “Come by, come by”
And never again as had always been
As her hair grew thin with decay,
Did these goblin men
Hawk their fruits near the glen.
So she grieved when they slipped away.
Until one night a gentle taunt
These creatures once more appeared.
Against a fair full waxen moon
To wash away her fear.
And a whisper “Laura - listen close to me”-
Anything can happen child
Anything can be.
The Alone Jester
ReplyDeleteby Vanessa Vargas
From childhood’s hour the jester told a silly joke.
I have not seen the jester sing a funny song.
From the sun the Queen asked,
As it passed me flying by,
“Must it last so long?”
The prince and the princess fell asleep from the same source.
The Edge of Loves Memories
ReplyDeleteBy Erica Buonacquista
You say love is this, love is that:
Well Columbus said that the world is round!
Love has not even visited this country.
Believe me I have been to the edge where the wild wind whirled,
and peeked over the ledge where the blue smoke curls,
and wind and the rain comb.
Believe when I tell you, boys and girls,
That love has not even visited this country.
Just like Columbus was mistaken and said the world is round,
The world is FLAT!
Don’t you believe a word of that.
originally written by Shel Silverstain, re-written in the style of Charles Baudelaire. (References "Fountain of Blood", translated by Rachel Hadas)
ReplyDeleteThanksgiving dinner's sad and thankless-
The turkey's sobs gnawing deeply at my mind.
When I try to eat it,
The gruesome thought I cannot leave behind.
From Easter dinner's point of view,
The feast runs with scarlet rills of slaughter.
In the chicken, duck, and goose,
All I see are festering wounds.
I once loved pork and tuna salad,
But now my mind and eyes are flooded
With sorrow, now that I've discovered,
Nothing in nature remains unblooded.
Amrita Roopraman
ReplyDeleteI will not engage in tug o’ war.
I’d rather play at hug o’ war.
Intertwining two shades
Becoming one with the smooth purple sky
Everyone giggles and rolls on the rug of this earth
Passionate kisses leaving moods of love
From a shade of gray to yellow to saffron
The world becomes embraced in hugs
And everyone grins,
And everyone cuddles even with horned branches
And everyone wins because the colors of the world become entwined,
spoiling the natural color to two or more, for I think of you.
The “sick” woman I knew
ReplyDeleteBy Tameka Simon
I knew a woman lovely in her bones
Her name was Peggy Ann McKay
in the mornings When small birds sighed,
She would sigh back at them;
and say "I cannot go to school today"
everyday there was a new excuse "I have
The measles and the mumps, A gash, a rash
and purple bumps. My mouth is wet, my
Throat is dry, I'm going blind in my right eye.
My tonsils are as big as rocks, I've counted
sixteen chicken pox
Ah, when she moved,
She moved more ways than one:
The shapes a bright container can contain!
Her leg is cut, her eyes are blue-
She thinks it might be instamatic flu.
She was the sickle; I, poor I, the rake,
She cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,
Her nose is cold, her toes are numb,
Her full lips pursed, the errant note to seize;
Her tongue is filling up my mouth,
She played it quick, she played it light and loose;
My eyes, they dazzled at her flowing knees;
Her several parts could keep a pure repose,
Or one hip quiver with a mobile nose
(She moved in circles, and those circles moved.)
Her neck is stiff, her voice is weak,
She hardly whisper when she speaks.
She thinks her hair is falling out.
But when she found out it was Saturday
All of her sickness went away
And then she went out to play
Inspired by One-Inch Tall/ Departmental
ReplyDeleteBy Shel Silverstein/By Robert Frost
Answer
by Anthony Wallace
If you were one-inch tall, you’d stand in awe
As an ant on a table cloth, bumps into a dormant moth
The tear drop of the crying ant could be your swimming pool
The dormant moth was many times its size and would be double that of yours
If you were one-inch tall
The ant was not the least distraught, as he turned to go about his business
Not a touch, nor scrape, nor bump
The ant went off on its duty, you wonder how long it would take for you to reach the store
A month or maybe more, the ant could trek beneath the door within five seconds or less
Would you use the ant for transportation, or maybe live in its hive
You’d soon find you could do this an more
If you were one-inch tall
You could swing upon the antenna atop its head
Use the dirt mounds as your bed
However, you would be shocked to see, the ants purpose of being
Whose search is to find God, the workers scurry to find the nature of time and space
You’d come to realize living with the ants would lead you to an answer as to why
I’m just one-inch tall
Michael Rodriguez Sonnet 4 Shakespeare
ReplyDeleteMarch 6, 2011 Smart
Pastiche
Children’s Literature
Sonnetically Smart
My dad gave me one dollar bill dost thou spend
And I swapped it for two shiny quarters, beauty’s legacy
And then I took the quarters
And traded them to Lou
Dost thou abuse?
That three is more than two!
Just then, along Nature calls thee to be gone
And just ‘cause he can’t see beauty must be tombed with thee
Four is more than three!
And five is more than four lives th’ executor
Shakespeare & Silverstein:
ReplyDeleteSonnet 130/The Bagpipe Who Didn’t Say No
My turtle’s “no’s” are nothing like my “no’s”;
Bagpipes are far more loud than her voice’s pitch;
If kilts be plaid, why then her shell is plain;
If hairs be pipes, rosewood drones grow on her head.
I have seen turtles shell’d, brown and scaled,
But no such shells see I on her back;
And in some sounds is there more delight
Than in the “Aaooga” that from my turtle honks, brays, neighs.
I love to squeeze her middle, yet well I know
That other turtles have a far more pleasing kiss;
I grant I never saw a turtle-goddess go;
My turtle, when she rests, lies on the smooth and sandy shore:
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.
“Thirsty Girl” By C.F. Doell
ReplyDeleteFrom On Our Cisatlantic Shore
(A mash of Silverstein’s Lazy Girl with Ferlinghetti’s poem 3 from A Coney Island of the Mind)
The thirsty girl lazily waiting
waits for a drink of the water
from the swiss mountain tops
with Yodelers yodeling their yodels
and secret springs of “Poland”
in bath tubs and plastic bottles
and the snow melts
or so I’ve heard about the Global warming
and Al Gore’s movie
but it’s inconvenient to recycle or go green
and adulterated rivers flow down
waiting streams
waiting mouths opened
cold refrigerators
open supermarkets
groceried livelihoods
of fly-by-night parenting
For no more time exists where just a little drink
could be waiting for her at the CVS
a Quik Chek or ATM stop is all
mom could get up off the couch
or I could keep lying here
on this floor on my back
and wait
for God to cry.
Marilyn Corona
ReplyDeleteApril 5, 2011
Dr. Dana Milstein
The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost/ Where the Sidewalk Ends Shel Silverstein
There is a place where the sidewalk ends
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And before the street begins,
And sorry I could not travel both
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And be one traveler, long I stood
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And looked down one as far as I could
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To where it bent in the undergrowth.
To cool in the peppermint wind.
Then took the other, as just as fair,
Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And having perhaps the better claim,
And the dark street winds and bends.
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same.
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.