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 |  Pursue the Horizon: 30-Day Poetry Blogging Challenge Entries |
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| Who can take a sunrise, sprinkle it with dew Cover it in chocolate and a miracle or two The candy man, the candy man can The candy man can 'cause he mixes it with love And makes the world taste good Who can take a rainbow, wrap it in a sigh Soak it in the sun and make a strawberry–lemon pie The candy man? The candy man, the candy man can The candy man can 'cause he mixes it with love And makes the world taste good Willy Wonka makes everything he bakes Satisfying and delicious Talk about your childhood wishes You can even eat the dishes Who can take tomorrow, dip it in a dream Separate the sorrow and collect up all the cream The candy man, Willy Wonka can, the candy man can The candy man can 'cause he mixes it with love And makes the world taste good And the world tastes good' Cause the candy man thinks it should -Roald Dahl What can I say about Ronald Dahl? His words always seems to bring a smile to my face. This one may be short, but it conveys a sense of wonder and magic that every child should be familiar with from a young age. His books were among the first in my vast collection and I still revisit them with fondness. |
| The story of man Makes me sick Inside, outside, I don't know why Something so conditional And all talk Should hurt me so. I am hurt I am scared I want to live I want to die I don't know Where to turn In the Void And when To cut Out For no Church told me No Guru holds me No advice Just stone Of New York And on the cafeteria We hear The saxophone O dead Ruby Died of Shot In Thirty Two, Sounding like old times And de bombed Empty decapitated Murder by the clock. And I see Shadows Dancing into Doom In love, holding TIght the lovely asses Of the little girls In love with sex Showing themselves In white undergarments At elevated windows Hoping for the Worst. I can't take it Anymore If I can't hold My little behind To me in my room Then it's goodbye Sangsara For me Besides Girls aren't as good As they look And Samadhi Is better Than you think When it starts in Hitting your head In with Buzz Of glittergold Heaven's Angels Wailing Saying We've been waiting for you Since Morning, Jack Why were you so long Dallying in the sooty room? This transcendental Brilliance Is the better part (of Nothingness I sing) Okay. Quit. Mad. Stop. -Jack Kerouac It's hard to go wrong with Jack Kerouac, but this is a favorite. His New York street beat poems may seem pessimistic, but I think the man was close to being a visionary. Most people either love his writings or despise them. |
| When I was sick and lay a-bed, I had two pillows at my head, And all my toys beside me lay, To keep me happy all the day. And sometimes for an hour or so I watched my leaden soldiers go, With different uniforms and drills, Among the bed-clothes, through the hills; And sometimes sent my ships in fleets All up and down among the sheets; Or brought my trees and houses out, And planted cities all about. I was the giant great and still That sits upon the pillow-hill, And sees before him, dale and plain, The pleasant land of counterpane. -Robert Louis Stevenson from From Child's Garden of Verses  I have many favorites from Robert Louis Stevenson. The majority of them can be found in Child's Garden of Verses. I love this poem because it reminds me of myself when I was younger. I think I was around ten when I tore open the top of my knee on a protruding nail. (During recess at school- it's a good thing people weren't so lawsuit happy at the time!) After getting nearly a dozen stitches in my knee (no staples or liquid stitches thirty years ago!) I had to spend the first week in bed with my leg propped up unless I needed to visit the bathroom. Kids really didn't have televisions in their bedrooms back then either. My mom set up a card table next to my bed holding every Lego I owned. I spent the week building a tiny kingdom. I had a massive castle surrounded by a village. What happened to using your imagination? I can't imagine a ten year old doing that now. As much I enjoy technology, I sure wish parents would encourage pretend-make-believe-play more often. When my two were small, I loved getting in the floor and having tea parties or playing dress up with them. I hope the simple joy of imagination never dies. |
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Good for Ruby! Just for fun, I wrote a flash fiction story a few years ago about just such a woman: "