2. Jack Prelutsky1940-present:Id always enjoyed playing
withlanguage, but I had no idea Iwould be a writer. I
discoveredwriting as a career only byaccident when I was about
24years old. I had spent monthsdrawing several imaginaryanimals,
but one evening Idecided to write a little poem togo with each
drawing. He is thefirst ever U.S. Childrens PoetLaureate.
3. A Noble Knight-at-ArmsI am a noble knight-at-arms I ache to
tilt at dragonsastride a noble steed, with my formidable
lance,employed upon a noble quest but swifter knights dispatch them
first,to do a noble deed. I seem to have no chance.Alas, Im
unsuccessful, I hunt for monstrous ogresthough I ride from sun to
sun, to eviscerate, but nay . . .my quest goes unrewarded, They
prudently absquatulateand my deed remains undone. while Im yet well
away.A paragon of chivalry, Im similarly thwartedI long to do no
less at confronting evil trolls,than rescue any rescuable who
sensibly evacuatedamsels in distress. their pestilential
holes.Alack, Im ineffectual, Deterred yet undiscouraged,I find such
damsels late, my resolve is never weak,and earlier delivered though
regularly testedfrom an execrable fate. by my singular
physique.
4. But half the height of other knights,my girth is thrice as
great.My mount is discommodedby my monumental weight.At best it
barely manages an apathetic trot.My name is famed through all the
land Im called Sir Lunchalot.
5. The Lament of a Lonely TrollI am, alas, a lonely troll,My
days are all the same,I seldom see a single soul,My neighbors fear
my name.Because Im gruesome, grim, and gruff,Ive had no guests for
years.The situations bad enoughTo drive a troll to tears.Im
destined, it appears to meto live my life alone,But, desperate for
company,Ive bought a telephone.Feel free to call me, night or
day,No matter if I slumber,And furthermore, you need not pay Ive
got a troll-free number.
6. The ParrotsThe parrots, garbed in gaudy dress,with almost
nothing to express,delight in spouting empty words . . .They are
extremely verbal birds.Oblivious to all they say, they often talk
the day away.At times they open up their beaksand ramble on for
weeks and weeks.The parrots, when they voice a word,are imitating
what theyve heard,and yet they seem to love to chat do you know
anyone like that?
7. A Group of MooseA group of moose, whose skulls were
thick,attempted some arithmetic.Of course their efforts were no
use,their minds were but the minds of moose.Addition was a hopeless
act,and likewise, they could not subtract.Devoid of acumen and
wit,they could not multiply a bit.Division was beyond them too,they
clearly did not have a clue.Percentage just gave them pains,and
fractions overtaxed their brains.Those addlepated moose were
vexed,uncomprehending, and perplexed.Were through with math, they
sadly sighed. . . .
8. Those numbers have us moostified.
9. A Famous MonsterI am a famous monsterwho roams from place to
place,renowned by reputation,though few have seen my face.My arms
and legs are scrawny,my torso is the same,my hands are both
gigantic,theyre how I gained my fame.Unlike my raucous
colleagues,who fill the air with roars,Im not by nature noisy,until
I knock on doors.One knock is quite sufficientto make a door
collapse Im called THE KNOCK-LESS MONSTER.Do I exist? Perhaps!
10. Grasshopper GumboGRASSHOPPER GUMBOIGUANA TAIL TARTSTOAD A
LA MODEPICKLED PELICAN PARTSELEPHANT GELATINFROG FRICASSEEPUREE OF
PLAYTPUSBOILDED BUMBLEBEEPORCUPINE PUDDINGSTEAMED CENTIPEDE
SKINSSQUID SUCKER SUNDAESFRIED FLYING FISH FINSMEADOW MOUSE
MORSELSCRACKED CROCODILE CRUNCHThe school cafeteriaserves them for
lunch.
11. Waffles Give Me SnifflesWaffles give me sniffles,chicken
makes me itch,toffee gives me toothaches,tacos make me twitch.Hot
dogs give me fevers,ice cream gives me chills.If I nibble candy
bars,Im green around the gills.Pancakes make me queasy,spaghetti
makes me sneeze.As soon as I eat pizza,I get a weird
disease.Peanuts gives me pimples,popcorn hurts my throat.One taste
of macaroni,my body starts to bloat.Raisins give me rashes,bananas
make me shake.If I bite a burger,I get a bellyache.The moment I try
chocolate,I lose a little hair broccoli has no effect,its
thoroughly unfair.
12. Ogden Nash1902-1971:In the publishing field, Nash said that
itwas the poor quality of themanuscripts he read that led him to
tryto write. He attempted to produceserious verse in the style of
theeighteenth-century Romantic poetsbut soon gave it up. He
preferred toscribble comic verse on pages that hecrumpled and
tossed across the officeto the desks of coworkers.Nash was one of
the mostcommercially successful English-language poets of the
twentiethcentury.
13. The Romantic AgeThis one is entering her teens,Ripe for
sentimental scenes,Has picked a gangling unripe male,Sees herself
in bridal veil,Presses lips and tosses head,Declares shes not too
young to wed.Informs you pertly you forgetRomeo and Juliet.Do not
argue, do not shout;Remind her how that one turned out.
14. A Watched Example Never BoilsThe weather is so very
mildThat some would call it warm.Good gracious, arent we lucky,
child?Here comes a thunderstorm.The sky is now indelible ink,The
branches reft asunder;But you and I, we do not shrink;We love the
lovely thunder.The garden is a raging sea,The hurricane is
snarling;Oh happy you and happy me!Isnt the lightening darling?Fear
not the thunder, little one.Its the weather, simply weather;Its
friendly giants full of funClapping hands together.
15. I hope of lightning our supplyWill never be exhausted;You
know its lanterns in the skyFor angels who are losted.We love the
kindly wind and hail,The jolly thunderbolt,We watch in glee the
fairy trailOf ampere, watt, and volt.Oh, than to enjoy a storm like
thisTheres nothing I would rather.Dont dive beneath the blankets,
Miss!Or else leave room for Father.
16. Tomorrow, Partly CloudyRainy vacationsTry peoples
patience.To expect rain in the autumnExperience has tautumn,And
rain in the spring and winterMakes no stories for the printer,But
rain on summer coloniesbreeds misdemeanors and felonies.Summer
cottages are meant just to sleep in,Not to huddle all day in a heap
in,And whether at sea level or in higher placesThere are not enough
fireplaces,And the bookcase stares at you starklyAnd seems to be
full of nothing but Volume I of the like of Rutherford B. Hayes,
and The Rosary by Florence M. Barclay,And everybody wishes they had
brought woolens and tweeds instead of linens and foulards,And if
you succeed in lining up four for bridge the only deck turns out to
have only fifty-one cards,And tennis rackets grow frazzled and golf
sticks rusty and bathing suits moldy,And parents grow scoldly,And
on all sides you hear nothing but raindrops going sputter-sput,
sputter-sput,And bureau drawers wont open and bathroom doors wont
shut,
17. And all attempts at amusement fail,Even reading the
previous tenants jettisoned mail,Although naturally it would never
have been jettisonedIf it hadnt been reticent.But you could stand
everything if it wasnt for one malignant committee,Which is the one
that turns the sun on again just as you are leaving for the
city.Yes indeed, rainy vacationsCertainly try peoples
patience.
18. The HunterThe hunter crouches in his blindNeath camouflage
of every kind,And conjures up a quacking noiseTo lend allure to his
decoys.This grown-up man, with pluck and luck,Is hoping to outwit a
duck.
19. CeleryCelery, raw,Develops the jaw,But celery, stewed,Is
more easily chewed.
20. The DuckBehold the duck.It does not cluck.A cluck it
lacks.It quacks.It is specially fondOf a puddle or pond.When it
dines or sups,It bottoms ups.
21. ChuckIm Chuck, the chore evaderand adept procrastinator.Ive
got a lot of strategies Ill demonstrate them later.
22. Shel Silverstein1932-1999:Silverstein beganwriting when he
wastwelve years old. Hewould have preferred tobe playing ball
withchildren his age, but hehad no athletic ability.Also, girls
showed nointerest in him, so hebegan to write.
23. RockabyeRockabye baby, in the treetop.Dont you know a
treetopIs no safe place to rock?And who put you up there,And your
cradle too?Baby, I think someone down heresGot it in for you.
24. Shoe TalkTheres no one to talk with Ill talk with my
shoe.He does have a tongueAnd an inner soul, too.Hes awfully well
polished,So straightlaced and neat(But he talks about nothingBut
feet feet feet).
25. How Many, How MuchHow many slams in an old screen door?
Depends how loud you shut it.How many slices in a bread? Depends
how thin you cut it.How much good inside a day? Depends how good
you live em.How much love inside a friend? Depends how much you
give em.
26. Homework MachineThe Homework Machine, oh the Homework
Machine,Most perfect contraption thats ever been seen.Just put in
your homework, then drop in a dime,Snap on the switch, and in ten
seconds time,Your homework comes out, quick and clean as can
be.Here it is nine plus four? and the answer is three.Three?Oh me .
. .I guess its not as perfectAs I thought it would be.
27. HingesIf we had hinges on our headsThere wouldnt be no
sin,Cause we could take the bad stuff outAnd leave the good stuff
in.
28. Headphone HaroldHeadphone Harold wore his headphonesThrough
the night and through the day.He said, Id rather hear my musicthan
the dumb things people say.In the citys honkin traffic,He heard
trumpets stead of trucks.Down the quiet country back roadsHe heard
drums instead of ducks.Through the patterin springtime showersHe
heard guitars instead of rain.Down the track at the railroad
crossinHe heard the trombones not the train.
29. Theodore Geisel1904-1991:Geisel, better knownunder his
pseudonym"Dr. Seuss," was"probably the best-lovedand certainly the
best-selling childrens bookwriter of all time," wroteRobert Wilson
of the NewYork Times Book Review.He entertained severalgenerations
of youngreaders with his zanynonsense books.
30. VroomsOn a world near the sun live two brothers called
VROOMSWho, strangely enough, are built sort of like broomsAnd
theyre stuck all alone up there high in the blueAnd so, to kill
time, just for something to doEach one of these fellows takes turns
with the otherIn sweeping the dust off his world with his
brother.
31. Too Many DavesDid I ever tell you that Mrs. McCaveHad
twenty-three sons and she named them all Dave?Well, she did. And
that wasnt a smart thing to do.You see, when she wants one and
calls out, Yoo-Hoo!Come into the house, Dave! she doesnt get
one.All twenty-three Daves of hers come on the run!This makes
things quite difficult at the McCavesAs you can imagine, with so
many Daves.And often she wishes that, when they were born,She had
named one of them Bodkin Van HornAnd one of them Hoos-Foos. And one
of them Snimm.And one of them Hot-Shot. And one Sunny Jim.And one
of them Shadrack. And one of them Blinkey.
32. And one of them Stuffy. And one of them Stinkey.Another one
Putt-Putt. Another one Moon Face.Another one Marvin OGravel Balloon
Face.And one of them Ziggy. And one Soggy Muff.One Buffalo Bill.
And one Biffalo Buff.And one of them Sneepy. And one Weepy Weed.And
one Paris Garters. And one Harris Tweed.And one of them Sir Michael
Carmichael ZuttAnd one of them Oliver Boliver ButtAnd one of them
Zanzibar Buck-Buck McFate . . .But she didnt do it. And now its too
late.
33. If We Didnt Have BirthdaysIf we didnt have birthdays, you
wouldnt be you.If youd never been born, well then what would you
do?If youd never been born, well then what would you be?You might
be a fish! Or a toad in a tree!You might be a doorknob! Or three
baked potatoes!You might be a bag full of hard green tomatoes.Or
worse than all that . . .Why, you might be a WASNT!A Wasnt has no
fun at all. No, he doesnt.A Wasnt just isnt. He just isnt
present.But you . . . You ARE YOU! And, now isnt that
pleasant!
34. Themes of These Whimsical Poets: Dont Take Life Too
Seriously Appreciate Life and People Find Delight in Ordinary
Things Create Puns and Fun with Words