Tuesday, April 10, 2012

I is for Imagaination

I love imagination. I think Imagination is not used enough these days. One of the most imaginative authors I know is Shel Silverstein.  Shell Silverstein is an poet, comic, songwriter and overall Renaissance Man. Today I read my students some of his poetry and they just loved it! I did too! His poems are so fun and interesting so I'm going to share some with you. Plus, I was having a hard time coming up with something for I. 

Messy Room
Whosoever room this is should be ashamed!
His underwear is hanging on the lamp. 

His raincoat is there in the overstuffed chair, 
And the chair is becoming quite mucky and damp. 
His workbook is wedged in the window,
His sweater's been thrown on the floor. 
His scarf and one ski are beneath the TV, 
And his pants have been carelessly hung on the door.
His books are all jammed in the closet, 
His vest has been left in the hall. 
A lizard named Ed is asleep in his bed, 
And his smelly old sock has been stuck to the wall. 
Whosoever room this is should be ashamed! 
Donald or Robert or Willie or--
Huh? You say it's mine? Oh, dear,
I  knew it looked familiar!


The Meehoo with an Exactly Watt This one reminds me of the 3 Stooges skit about Who's on First.
Knock Know!
Who's There
Me!
That's right!
What's right? 
Meehoo!
That's what I want to know!
What's what you want to know?

Me, who? 
Yes, exactly!
Exactly
what
yes, I have an Exactly watt on a chain!
Exctly what on a chain?
Yes!
Yes what?
No, Exactlywatt!
That's what I wnat to know!
I told you -Exactlywatt!

Exactly what?
Yes, it's with me!
What's with you?
Exactlywatt-that's what's with me.
Me who?
Yes!
Go away!
Knock Knock.....


My favorite one of Shel Silverstein's poem's is called Sick. I know we've all felt this way when it's time to go to school or work. 


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 bind 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 dog you think my face looks green?
My leg is cut-my eyes are blue--
it might be instamatic flu.
I cough and sneeze and sap 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 a sliver in my thumb.
My neck is tiff, my voice 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 been, 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!"


Who are your favorite poets and authors? If you would like to learn more about shell Silverstein check out his webpage. Enjoy! 










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1 Comments:

At April 10, 2012 at 7:49 PM , Blogger Wanda said...

Definitely can relate to the one entitled sick. Amazing how news of the weekend approaching makes everything better it seems.

 

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