BookLust

Silly Poetry Friday 21

Ok, it's late, but it's still Friday! (At least in my neck of the woods). I just finished watching Michael Moore's SiCKO – quite an impressive, frightening and sad film. So in honour of that film I thought I'd post yet another Uncle Shelby poem (he is the king of silly, so why not?) So what's the name of the poem? Sick, of course!

SICK
"I cannot go to school today,"
Said little Peggy Ann McKay.
"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
And there's one more – that's seventeen,
And don't you think my face looks green?
My leg is cut, my eyes are blue–
It might be instamatic flu.
I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,
I'm sure that my left leg is broke–
My hip hurts when I move my chin,
My belly button's caving in,
My back is wrenched, my ankle's sprained,
My 'pendix pains each time it rains.
My nose is cold, my toes are numb,
I have  sliver in my thumb.
My neck is stiff, my spine is weak,
I hardly whisper when I speak.
My tongue is filling up my mouth,
I think my hair is falling out.
My elbow's bent, my spine ain't straight,
My temperature is one-o-eight.
My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,
There is a hole inside my ear.
I have a hangnail, and my heart is–what?
What's that? What's that you say?
You say today is...Saturday?
G'bye, I'm going out to play!"

Well alls I can say is it's a darn good thing she got better, 'cuz if she lived in the States and didn't have any medical insurance, she'd be in a real pickle. Sorta like this sicko monkey here.

Silly Poetry Friday 20

Eeep!! I forgot about Silly Poetry Friday again! Many appy polly loggies. Friday morning I had to trek out to the great north (heh, I mean North York Central Library) for a meeting with a client (more about that fun job later), and when I got home, I got straight to work on other projects, and well...silly me, I plain forgot.

So what kind of silly poem should I share today? I know it's supposed to be Silly Poetry Friday, but I've got the Monday blahs big-time. Plus it's January, and it's pouring freakin' rain outside. It's a blah day and I'm feeling blue. So on that cheerful note, I bring you January Blues, written by Lynda Robson. And to top it off, a drawing by me of a very sad penguin.

JANUARY BLUES

I've got the January Blues,
Stay in bed till late,
Feel the excess Christmas weight,
Sad all the excitement's gone,
Want to feel happy,
But its so hard,
Only thing to look forward to,
Is my Valentine's card.
The chill in the air,
Makes me want to snooze,
Got no money after Christmas,
For the January sales,
And it's so quiet here,
In rainy Wales,
Guess I'll just hibernate,
And wake with the spring,
And my January Blues,
Will fade with the news,
Of a hot summer to come,
The sea, sand and sun,
Yippee, bring it on!

Silly Poetry Friday 19

The last silly poem of the year! How silly is that? So's I figured I should end with a poem about books and reading (even though lately this silly blog doesn't deal nearly enough with the subject of books, in spite of it's title).

Now I know that Mr. Philip Larkin would probably not consider himself a silly poet, but his poem A Study of Reading Habits sure sounds kind of silly to me! (And of course, very clever, too).

A Study of Reading Habits

When getting my nose in a book
Cured most things short of school,
It was worth ruining my eyes
To know I could still keep cool,
And deal out the old right hook
To dirty dogs twice my size.

Later, with inch-thick specs,
Evil was just my lark:
Me and my coat and fangs
Had ripping times in the dark.
The women I clubbed with sex!
I broke them up like meringues.

Don't read much now: the dude
Who lets the girl down before
The hero arrives, the chap
Who's yellow and keeps the store
Seem far too familiar. Get stewed:
Books are a load of crap.

This wonderful cartoon was created by the brilliant David Levine.

Silly Poetry Friday 18

As busy as I am with work and shopping and cleaning and cooking, I couldn't forget Silly Poetry Friday now, could I, silly one? Especially since it's the last Silly Poetry Friday before Christmas! And so of course, I have to share with you a silly Christmas poem! This poem is actually a very silly song, and you are very fortunate that I found a link so you can hear it while you read it! Aren't you a lucky silly one? Think of this as my silly Christmas present to you!

So do you know what silly Christmas song I picked? Does anyone know the song I Want A Hippopotamus For Christmas? It's so very silly, I just love it. The song is written by John Coctoasten and sung by Gayla Peevey. Here's the poem below, and you MUST check out this video with the original song, performed by some crazy, adorable guy. It's hilarious!

I Want A Hippopotamus For Christmas

I want a hippopotamus for Christmas
Only a hippopotamus will do
Don't want a doll, no dinky Tinker Toy
I want a hippopotamus to play with and enjoy

I want a hippopotamus for Christmas
I don't think Santa Claus will mind, do you?
He won't have to use our dirty chimney flue
Just bring him through the front door, that's the easy thing to do

I can see me now on Christmas morning, creeping down the stairs
Oh what joy and what surprise when I open up my eyes
To see a hippo hero standing there

I want a hippopotamus for Christmas
Only a hippopotamus will do
No crocodiles, no rhinoceroses
I only like hippopotamuses
And hippopotamuses like me too

Mom says the hippo would eat me up, but then
Teacher says a hippo is a vegeterian

There's lots of room for him in our two-car garage
I'd feed him there and wash him there and give him his massage
I can see me now on Christmas morning, creeping down the stairs
Oh what joy and what surprise when I open up my eyes
To see a hippo hero standing there

I want a hippopotamus for Christmas
Only a hippopotamus will do
No crocodiles or rhinoceroseses
I only like hippopotamuseses
And hippopotamuses like me too!

Silly Poetry Friday 17

In light of yesterday's news about our former PM Brian Mulroney finally (snort) setting the record straight on that large amount of cash he took from Karlheinz Schreiber all those years ago, I thought it only fitting that today's silly poem pay homage to that honoured role of leader for our very silly country. Sorry, it's another one of those silly poems that I wrote myself. But at least I am owning up to that fact now, rather than say, ten years from now, and there's no splitting hairs concerning my responsibility in this silly poem writing matter. So here it is. Enjoy!

MY CAREER
Boots and mitts and hats and coats
Are for the birds and billy goats.
Cream of wheat and oats and bran
Look better in a garbage can.
Bathtubs, water, combs and soap
Are used by nincompoops and dopes.
School and chores are just plain sinister –
Can't wait until I'm Prime Minister.

Silly Poetry Friday 16

Snow!! Big juicy chunky flakes of snow are dancing in the sky at this very moment! So of course I must pick a silly winter poem for Silly Poetry Friday, you silly person, you! Are you familiar with the work of N.M. Bodecker? No? Well now you are, silly. He was a very talented (and under-appreciated) author and illustrator of children's literature. This poem comes from Bodecker's collection of silly poems, Hurry, Hurry Mary Dear:

Silly Poetry Friday 15

No, I didn't forget about Silly Poetry Friday, silly. I just got sidetracked, with something called work. And thankfully, I've been getting plenty of that stuff lately, and it's all jolly, jolly good stuff. So it got me thinking. Every time I get a lovely new illo job, I always have to squeal with joy and pinch myself 'cuz I can't believe I get paid to do something I love doing with every fibre of my being. I get paid to just be me. I keep waiting for someone to come up to me, take away my good fortune and say, "Oops, sorry –  we meant to give that to some other guy." But so far, so good, no one's come knocking on my door with that message. It also makes me remember certain negative voices from (thankfully) the long past, voices that weren't so very positive about my artistic abilities. So with those thoughts in mind, today's poem comes once again from good ol' Uncle Shelby, from Where the Sidewalk Ends. It's actually not a particularly silly poem. In fact, I would say it's pretty darn smart.

LISTEN TO THE MUSTN'TS

Listen to the MUSTN'TS, child,
Listen to the DON'TS
Listen to the SHOULDN'TS
The IMPOSSIBLES, the WON'TS
Listen to the NEVER HAVES
Then listen close to me–
Anything can happen, child.
ANYTHING can be.

Silly Poetry Friday 14

And so it goes...the silliness continues. You know what, man? Silliness is deep. Like, really deep. So deep, in fact, that I thought I'd share some silly beat poetry with you this time round. Ok, I'm not sure if Jack Kerouac would appreciate being called a silly poet, but this poem he wrote is called Goofball Blues...

Goofball Blues

I'm just a human being with a lot of
Shit on my heart
My ambition was not the great
        Lover,
    But that's what I am
    Even in dreams, fiancees
           Of other men
            Ball on my joint
    And I am the Flying horse
        Of Mien Mo
    When I am an old man
    My grave will rot me
    The ones I loved were crazy
            Without knowing why
    When I am old I'll yawn
             In the Flannel Grave

And to add to the beatnik silliness, I thought I'd post some illustration work I did recently for that hip cool literary publication, Gargoyle Magazine. I illustrated the CD for a collection of Gargoyle's spoken word poetry, and thought it would be fun to give it a 60's beatnik theme, dude. Can you dig it?

Silly Poetry Friday 13

Happy Silly Day! Guess what? I'm going to be silly and cheat a bit again today, because I'm on a tight schedule this morning. So sorry, folks – you're gonna get another silly poem written by me! Hee hee hee...

BLUE

I'm feeling sad
I'm feeling blue
There is nothing
Just nothing
NOTHING to do!
No one to play with
Nothing to see
Nobody to talk to
Not a thing on TV
Nothing to hear
Not even a peep
I'm so sad and so bored
I can't even sleep
But if I could
It wouldn't be fun
'Cause I'm sure all my dreams
Would be boring re-runs
I'm so sad I'm so bored
I'm so – What did you say?
There's a giant parade
Down the street just today?
And the circus is coming
To town in an hour?
And the garden is sprouting
Some beautiful flowers?
And the library's giving out
Books by the dozens?
And we're having some guests –
Aunts, Uncles and cousins?
And you want me to come?
That's so nice of you
But can't you see that I'm busy –
I'm FEELING BLUE!

Silly Poetry Friday 12

Is it that silly time again already? Where does the week go?

So which silly artist should I mention today, folks? How 'bout Maurice Sendak? Yes, I know, I know, he certainly wasn't always silly – in fact, a lot of his work touches on quite serious themes. But you gotta agree with me that his Chicken Soup With Rice from the Nutshell Library is pretty darn silly! And speaking of silly, I read  yesterday that Dave Eggers of Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius fame has written an adult version of Where The Wild Things Are. Hmmmm. Actually, that's not silly, that's just...stupid.

Anyway, back to what really matters. It's now officially November, a month that tends to be a bit...depressing for some folks. The weather starts to get cold, Halloween is over, it's too soon to really start thinking about Christmas, and people are cocooning inside  their homes. Personally, I love this time of year, I guess because I'm a bit of a homebody, and nothing makes me happier than snuggling on the couch with some thick comforters, hot coffee, fat cats, a loving husband and a good book. But for some strange reason, some people don't like the month of November! Well, perhaps this silly poem about the month of November will cheer up all those November-haters: