An Ancient Horse

An Ancient Horse by Jeff Moss
 
Hyracotherium, a tiny horse
Lived millions of years ago.
He measured just twelve inches high,
So what I'd like to know -
Did paleontologist ever find,
Near where that horse was at,
Some eensy-weensy boots and spurs
And a teeny cowboy hat?




Found here  :)

My Three Friends

My Three Friends
by Louis L'Amour



I have three friends, three faithful friends,
More Faithful could not be–
And every night, by the dim firelight,
They come to sit with me.
~~~
The first of these is tall and thin
With hollow cheeks, and a toothless grin;
A ghastly stare, and scraggly hair,
And an ugly lump for a chin.
~~~
The second of these is short and fat
With beady eyes, like a starving rat–
He was soaked in sin to his oily skin,
And verminous, at that.
~~~
The crouching one is of ape-like plan,
Formed like a beast that resembled man:
A freakish thing, with arms a-swing,
And he was the third of that gruesome clan.
~~~
The first I stabbed with a Chinese knife,
And left on the white beach sand,
With his ghastly stare, and blood soaked hair,
And an out-flung, claw-like hand;
~~~
The fat one stole a crumbling crust,
That he wolfed in his swineish way–
So I left him there, with eyes a glare,
An his head cut off half-way.
~~~
We fought to kill, the brute and I,
That the one that lived might eat,
So I killed him too, and made a stew,
And dined on human meat.
~~~
And so these three come to visit me,
When without the night winds howl–
The one with the leer, the one with a sneer,
And the one with a brutish scowl;
~~~
Their lips are dumb, but the three dead come
And crouch by the hollow grate–
The man that I stabbed, the man that I cut,
And the gruesome thing that I ate.
~~~
Their lips are sealed, with blood congealed,
But they will not let me be,
And so they haunt, grim, ghastly, and gaunt,
Till death shall set me free.
~~~
I have three friends, three faithful friends,
More Faithful could not be–
And every night, by the dim firelight,
They come to sit with me.


https://rhymenreview.wordpress.com/2012/07/13/a-friendly-poem-for-friday-the-13th/

The Naming of Cats

The Naming of Cats
T.S. Eliot

The Naming of Cats is a difficult matter,
It isn't just one of your holiday games;
You may think at first I'm as mad as a hatter
When I tell you, a cat must have THREE DIFFERENT NAMES.
First of all, there's the name that the family use daily,
Such as Peter, Augustus, Alonzo or James,
Such as Victor or Jonathan, George or Bill Bailey—
All of them sensible everyday names.
There are fancier names if you think they sound sweeter,
Some for the gentlemen, some for the dames:
Such as Plato, Admetus, Electra, Demeter—
But all of them sensible everyday names.
But I tell you, a cat needs a name that's particular,
A name that's peculiar, and more dignified,
Else how can he keep up his tail perpendicular,
Or spread out his whiskers, or cherish his pride?
Of names of this kind, I can give you a quorum,
Such as Munkustrap, Quaxo, or Coricopat,
Such as Bombalurina, or else Jellylorum-
Names that never belong to more than one cat.
But above and beyond there's still one name left over,
And that is the name that you never will guess;
The name that no human research can discover—
But THE CAT HIMSELF KNOWS, and will never confess.
When you notice a cat in profound meditation,
The reason, I tell you, is always the same:
His mind is engaged in a rapt contemplation
Of the thought, of the thought, of the thought of his name:
His ineffable effable
Effanineffable
Deep and inscrutable singular Name.


Hear T.S. Eliot recite this lovely poem here. 

From Cyrano deBergerac

"You…you have... hmm .…..a very large nose!"

"Ah no! That’s too brief, young man!
You might have said…Oh!… a hundred things, to plan
by varying the tone ... for example just suppose…
Aggressive: ‘I, Sir, if I had such a nose,
I’d have it amputated on the spot!’
Friendly: ‘But it must drown itself a lot,
you need a drinking-bowl of a special shape!’
Descriptive: ‘It’s a rock! ... A peak! ... A cape!
What’s that, it’s a cape?….. It’s a peninsular!’
Curious: ‘That oblong bag what’s it serve you for?
A sheath for scissors? Or a writing case?’
Gracious: ‘Do you love the winged race
so much, that you benignly set yourself
to provide their little claws with a shelf!’......
- That’s an idea, sir, of what you might have said,
if you’d an ounce of wit or letters in your head:
but of wit, O most lamentable creature
you’ve never had an atom, and you feature
three letters only, and those three spell: Ass!
And were your wit of sufficient class,
to aim a single foolish pleasantry,
at me, in front of all this noble gallery,
you’d not have been allowed to speak a quarter
of the least beginning of a single one of them, for
though I aim them at myself, so wittily,
I don’t let any man aim them at me!"

I saw Cyrano at Portland Center Stage and got this text from the full text of the 1897 play here. 

One Fine Day In the Middle of the Night

One fine day in the middle of the night,
Two dead boys got up to fight, 

Back to back they faced each other,
Drew their swords and shot each other,

One was blind and the other couldn’t, see
So they chose a dummy for a referee.
A blind man went to see fair play,
A dumb man went to shout “hooray!”

A paralyzed donkey passing by,
Kicked the blind man in the eye,
Knocked him through a nine inch wall,
Into a dry ditch and drowned them all,

A deaf policeman heard the noise,
And came to arrest the two dead boys,
If you don’t believe this story’s true,
Ask the blind man he saw it too!

This goofy folk rhyme has as many variations as there are little boys who love reciting the silliness. Learn more here. 

Eletelephony

Eletelephony

Laura Elizabeth Richards

Once there was an elephant,
Who tried to use the telephant—
No! No! I mean an elephone
Who tried to use the telephone—
(Dear me! I am not certain quite
That even now I’ve got it right.)  

Howe’er it was, he got his trunk
Entangled in the telephunk;
The more he tried to get it free,
The louder buzzed the telephee—
(I fear I’d better drop the song
Of elephop and telephong!)

Found on Academy of American Poets website here. 

A Wolf is at the Laundromat

A Wolf Is at the Laundromat
By Jack Prelutsky 

A wolf is at the Laundromat,

it's not a wary stare-wolf,

it's short and fat, it tips its hat,

unlike a scary glare-wolf.

It combs its hair, it clips its toes,

it is a fairly rare wolf,

that's only there to clean its clothes—

it is a wash-and-wear-wolf.

 

 

Found at the Poetry Foundation here. 

The Jabberwocky

The Jabberwocky

 by Lewis Carroll

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe. 

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!" 

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought--
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

"And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arm, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!"
He chortled in his joy.

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe 


Found here at the Lewis Carroll etext collection 

If I should have a daughter

If I should have a daughter

by Sarah Kay


If I should have a daughter, instead of "Mom," she's gonna call me "Point B," because that way she knows that no matter what happens, at least she can always find her way to me. And I'm going to paint solar systems on the backs of her hands so she has to learn the entire universe before she can say, "Oh, I know that like the back of my hand."

See the rest of this spoken word poem, plus more from Sarah Kay, on her TED talk HERE

Recipe For A Hippopotamus Sandwich

by Shel Silverstein

A hippo sandwich is easy to make.
All you do is simply take
One slice of bread,
One slice of cake,
Some mayonnaise
One onion ring,
One hippopotamus
One piece of string,
A dash of pepper —
That ought to do it.
And now comes the problem…
Biting into it!

 

 

found here on All Poetry dot com

A House is a House for Me

excerpts from A House is a House for Me 

by Mary Ann Hoberman

A hill is a house for an ant, an ant
A hive is a house for a bee
A hole is a house for a mole or a mouse
And a house is a house for me!
*** *** ***
 
And if you get started in thinking,
I think you will find it is true
That the more that you think about houses for things
The more things are houses, to you…
*** *** ***
 
How peaches are houses for peachpits
And sometimes are houses for worms;
How trashcans are houses for garbage
And garbage make houses for germs.
*** *** ***
 
And once you get started in thinking this way,
It seems that whatever you see
Is either a house or it lives in a house,
And a house is a house for me!


Found on YouTube here and in my childhood bookshelf  :)

About the Teeth of Sharks

By John Ciardi
 

The thing about a shark is—teeth,

One row above, one row beneath.

Now take a close look. Do you find

It has another row behind?

Still closer—here, I’ll hold your hat:

Has it a third row behind that?

Now look in and...Look out! Oh my,

I’ll never know now! Well, goodbye. 

 

 

 

Found here at Poetry Foundation dot org

If I Should Have a Daughter

If I Should Have A Daughter

by Sarah Kay


If I should have a daughter, instead of Mom, she's gonna call me Point B, because that way she knows that no matter what happens, at least she can always find her way to me. And I'm going to paint solar systems on the backs of her hands, so she has to learn the entire universe before she can say, "Oh, I know that like the back of my hand." And she's going to learn that this life will hit you hard in the face, wait for you to get back up just so it can kick you in the stomach. But getting the wind knocked out of you is the only way to remind your lungs how much they like the taste of air.

Threes

Threes by John Atherton

I think that I shall never c
A # lovelier than 3;
For 3 < 6 or 4,
And than 1 it’s slightly more.

All things in nature come in 3s,
Like … , trio’s, Q.E.D.s;
While $s gain more dignity
if augmented 3 x 3 –

A 3 whose slender curves are pressed
By banks, for compound interest;
Oh, would that, paying loans or rent,
My rates were only 3%!

3² expands with rapture free,
And reaches toward infinity;
3 complements each x and y,
And intimately lives with pi.

A circle’s # of °
Are best ÷ up by 3s,
But wrapped in dim obscurity
Is the square root of 3.

Atoms are split by men like me,
But only God is 1 in 3.



Found at the Math Babe blog here. 

For Sale

For Sale
By Shel Silverstein

One sister for sale!
One sister for sale!
One crying and spying young sister for sale!
I’m really not kidding,
So who’ll start the bidding?
Do I hear the dollar?
A nickel?
A penny?
Oh, isn’t there, isn’t there, isn’t there any
One kid that will buy this old sister for sale,
This crying and spying young sister for sale?

From  http://luckyeahshelsilverstein.tumblr.com/image/7196721934

Found at All Poetry here.

Elegy for a Toy I Broke

ELEGY FOR A
TOY I BROKE

You no longer jingle
You no longer roll
You no longer do anything
Since I had to see what made you work

I can't deal with all this guilt
I can't express my deep, deep grief
I can't believe what a cheap piece of
crap you were
Seriously, I hardly touched you before
you broke


From I Could Pee on This: And Other Poems by Cats, by Francesco Marciuliano. 

Two Giant Fat People

Two Giant Fat People
by Hafiz translated by Daniel Ladinsky

God and I have become
Like two giant fat people
Living in a tiny boat
We keep
Bumping into each other
And laughing.


Found on Nasheen Husain's blog here.