Once again we have two poems that are very, very different - this time from Arnold Adoff and David L. Harrison - once again showing the amazing ability of poetry to allow us to express the whole range of human emotion and experience (for kids and adults). So here then is an all April cheer - yay, poetry!
From Arnold Adoff:
n o justice n o p e a c e
o f course:
t r u e change is always too slow
and o u r b e s t hopes rest with
s t e a d y
on
beyond our own times
the t r u e revolutions h a p p e n
within the covers of our best books
inside the noises of words with words
inside the movements of reading eyes
so:
the writers are the engines
the artists are the engines
and the women and men
and the girls and the boys
read ing those noisy books
all are engines of true change
the words contain the power
and the books must have that
power and the noise of that
story and the shout of that song
must always be louder than the
silence of the bullets and the
silent deaths of grim despair
we m o v e forward with love
the s t r u g g l e c o n t I n u e s
©2009 arnold adoff. all rights reserved.
(click here to see the original post and comments)
Lookit!
by
David L. Harrison
Lookit!
Lookit me!
My toes grew roots!
I’m a tree!
You say, “Whoa!”
and I say, “I know!”
Lookit my limbs.
They’re big and huge and strong!
You go, “How did your limbs
get to be so big and huge and strong?”
and I go, “I don’t know, they just did.”
And lookit my branches!
They’re all full of storks and parrots
and ostriches building nests!
You say, “Wow! How did you get so many birds?”
and I go, “Because I’m so big and huge and strong,”
and you say, “Oh yeah, I forgot.”
My bark is the toughest bark in the whole world
so no one can chop me down.
Act like you’re a tree chopper with this huge ax –
the biggest ax in the whole world –
and you try and try
but you can’t even make a little chip in my bark
and you go,
“I can’t even make a little chip in your bark,”
and I say, “I know.”
Pretend you see a hippopotamus
making a nest on my tallest branch
and you say, “Wait a minute,
hippopotamuses can’t fly!”
and I go, “This one can,”
and you go, ”How?”
and I go, “Because he’s magic,”
and you just fall down on the ground
because you’ve never seen a magic hippopotamus.
Wait!
Now lookit my toes.
They just grew claws!
I’m not a tree.
Forget about that.
I’m a cat.
© 2010 David L. Harrison. All rights reserved.
(Click here to see the original post and comments)
Yesterday brought us poetry by Kristine O'Connell George and Elaine Magliaro. Tomorrow... Jane Yolen and Brod Bagert.
Please click here for more information about this year's edition of 30 Poets/30 Days, including how to follow along.
Saturday, April 19, 2014
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment