topics: |  poetry | anthology

After the Random House Book of Poetry for Children, Prelutsky brings out a more modernist volume, dropping the older poets, and shifting to the colourful watercolour of illustrator Meilo So.

While a few poems from the 1920s and 30s remain, there are many more voices from the 1980s and 90s. Probably about 2/3ds of the poems overlap with RHBPC.

In the process of seeking newer voices, the selection of poets is becomes more confined to americans. however, some of the finest children's poetry today is being written in the USA, so this is a large group to sample from.

Excerpts

The Nightnoise Gladiator : Richard Michelson p.14

When the radiator hisses,
when the hall stairs creak and moan,
when there’s something downstairs ringing
but it’s not the telephone;

When the back door lock is squeaking,
when you think you hear a knock,
when there’s something upstairs ticking
but it’s not Grandfather’s clock;

When the refrigerator rattles,
when the window curtains swish,
when the bathroom sink drip drips, drip drips,
I close my eyes and wish

I had a Nightnoise Gladiator.
There is nothing he enjoys
more than eating till he’s gobbled up
his enemy: Night Noise.
			[1996]
			(author bio)

Advice for a Frog (concerning a crane) : Alice Schertle

	Watch out, Old Croaker.
	Here comes Stick Walker,
	Here comes Pond Poker,
	here comes Death.

	Take a breath, Slick Skin.
	Muck down,
	sink in.
	Don't make bubbles.
	Good luck, Grin Chin --

	here comes Trouble.  [p. 18]
				[1995]

For Sale : Shel Silverstein 20

One sister for sale!
One sister for sale!
One crying and yelling young
sister for sale!
I'm really not kidding,
So who will start the bidding?
Do I hear a dollar?
A nickle?
A penny?
Oh, isn't there, isn't there,
isn't there any
One kid who will buy this fifteen year old sister for sale,
This crying and yelling young
sister for sale?
				[1974]

Karla Kustin: March p.24

	The sun is nervous
	  As a kite.
	That can’t quite keep
	  Its own string tight.

	Some days are fair,
	  And some are raw.
	The timid earth
	  Decides to thaw.

	Shy budlets peep
	  From twigs on trees,
	And robins join
	  The chickadees.

	Pale crocuses
	  Poke through ground
	Like noses come
	  To sniff around.

	The mud smells happy.
	  On our shoes
	We still wear mittens
	  Which we lose.
			(1965)

Trees : Harry Behn p.45

Trees are the kindest things I know,
They do no harm, they simply grow
And spread a shade for sleepy cows,
And gather birds among their bows.

They give us fruit in leaves above,
And wood to make our houses of,
And leaves to burn on Halloween
And in the Spring new buds of green.

They are first when day's begun
To touch the beams of morning sun,
They are the last to hold the light
When evening changes into night.

And when a moon floats on the sky
They hum a drowsy lullaby
Of sleepy children long ago...
Trees are the kindest things I know.
				[1949]

---
	here is a version by indian schoolkid from Kochi,
	adopts the first two lines, but does not acknowledge
	the original:

	Kindest things

	Trees are the kindest things I know.
	They do not harm, they simply grow.
	Trees are the kindest things I know.

	They give nests to the sleepy birds
	And give wood to the greedy man.
	They work as hard as they can.
	It cannot be expressed just in words.

	They respect the winds by shaking their boughs.
	They help the farmers by giving rain even now.
	"We will give our fruits
	but don't take our roots.
	We are ready to help you, greedy man
	But don't harm us, the kindest things."
	Trees are the kindest things I know.

	Antony Tressmol, VIII
	Kochi: Crescent Public School, Chalakudy
			[from: http://www.hindu.com/thehindu/quest/200307/stories/2003071203150200.htm|The Hindu]

Spinach : Florence Parry Heide 74

One thing I really, really hate
is seeing spinach on my plate!
   It's oozy, it's wiggly,
   it's icky, it's squiggly,
   it's greasy, it's grimy,
   it's sticky, it's slimy,
and as it slithers ever closer
it gets slimier and grossier

This is the thing that worries me:
I don't like spinach,
but spinach likes ME!
Ans as it sits upon the plate
it's thinking I am looking great.
Here I sit and now I see
if I don't eat it
it will eat ME!

What You Don’t Know About Food : Florence Parry Heide 75

Jelly’s made of jellyfish
Spaghetti’s really worms.
Ice cream’s just some dirty snow
mixed up with grimy germs.
Bread is made of glue and paste,
So are cakes and pies.
Peanut butter’s filled with stuff
like squashed up lizard eyes.
And as you eat potato chips
remember all the while;
they’re slices of dried up brain
of some old crocodile.

Slicing Salami : Denise Rodgers 76

	The strangest, strange stranger I met in my life
	was the man who made use of his nose as a knife.
	He'd slice up salami, tomatoes and cheese
	at the tip of his nose with phenomenal ease.

	He'd buy food in bulk at incredible prices
	and then use his nose to reduce it to slices.
	His wife ran away and I know that he'll miss her.
	The woman was frightened that one day he'd kiss her!

We Are Plooters : Jack Prelutsky 82

We are Plooters,
We don't care,
We make messes
Everywhere,
We strip forests
Bare of trees,
We dump garbage
In the seas.

We are Plooters,
We enjoy
Finding beauty
To destroy,
We intrude
Where creatures thrive,
Soon there's little
Left alive.

Underwater,
Underground,
Nothing's safe
When we're around,
We spew poisons
In the air,
We are Plooters,
We don't care.

about the author

For 30 years, Jack Prelutsky’s inventive poems have inspired legions of
children to fall in love with poetry. His outrageously silly poems have
tickled even the most stubborn funny bones, while his darker verses have
spooked countless late-night readers. His award-winning books include
Tyrannosaurus Was a Beast, The Dragons Are Singing Tonight, The Random
House Book of Poetry for Children, and The Beauty of the Beast

While attending a Bronx, New York, grade school, Prelutsky took piano and
voice lessons and was a regular in school shows. Surprisingly, Prelutsky
developed a healthy dislike for poetry due to a teacher who “left me with
the impression that poetry was the literary equivalent of liver. I was told
it was good for me, but I wasn’t convinced.”

In his early twenties, Prelutsky spent six months drawing imaginary animals
in ink and watercolor. One evening, he wrote two dozen short poetry verses
to accompany each drawing. A friend encouraged him to show them to an
editor, who loved his poems (although not his artwork!) and urged him to
keep writing. Prelutsky listened and he is still busy writing.  Jack
Prelutsky lives on Mercer Island in Washington with his wife, Carolynn.

illustrator

Meilo So's first collaboration with Jack Prelutsky was the ALA Notable Book
The Beauty of the Beast: Poems from the Animal Kingdom, of which The New
York Times Book Review wrote: "Meilo So does enchantingly unreal paintings:
whimsical watercolors made with a wet-on-wet technique that preserves the
spontaneity of her hand gestures. In very few brush strokes, she captures
the essence of organisms from stallions to sea horses. Yet theimages
themselves are abstract, almost calligraphic pictograms." Her most recent
book is Tasty Baby Belly Buttons by Judy Sierra. Meilo So was born in Hong
Kong and now lives in England with her husband, who is also an artist.