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  • Archive for the 'Poetry' Category

    Contents

    “You’re Not Supposed to Say That!” – Mama Lisa’s Thanksgiving Silliness

    Walt Whitman’s Woods and his Poem "Miracles"

    Can Anyone Help with a Czech Rhyme that Sounds Like “Hou-py, hou-py, hou-py”?

    Robert Frost’s Proverb: “Good fences make good neighbors.”

    Modern Poetry Around the World

    Jane Taylor’s Poem about a Pussy-cat is about How Kids Should Treat Pets

    Poem: A Landscape

    Poem – The Bee by Emily Dickinson

    Poem: Spinning Top

    Gobolinks

    A Limerick about a Yak with a Jaguar on His Back

    On Friendship…

    Crocodile Tears – A Poem

    “My Shadow” a Poem by Robert Louis Stevenson with MP3

    A Memorial Day Poem

    Dandelion Poem

    Singing – A Poem by Robert Louis Stevenson

    Only a Mother’s Love – A Spanish Poem with an MP3 Recording

    MY MOTHER. – A Poem

    Some Proverbs about Earth for Earth Day

    Posts

    “You’re Not Supposed to Say That!” – Mama Lisa’s Thanksgiving Silliness

    Monday, November 2nd, 2009

    Turkey and Rooster Illustration of Thanksgiving Poem

    Here’s a Thanksgiving poem I wrote in honor of turkeys all over the U.S. in autumn. It’s geared towards older kids.

    You can click on the mp3 below to hear my husband and me recite it…

    You’re Not Supposed to Say That!

    “Cock-a-doodle-doo!” said the turkey.
    “What?!” went the rooster.
    “Cock-a-doodle-doo!”
    “You’re not supposed to say
    “Cock-a-doodle-doo!”
    Said the rooster.
    “Oh yes I am!”
    Said the turkey.
    “No you’re not!”
    Said the rooster.
    “What am I supposed to say?”
    Asked the turkey.
    The rooster replied,
    “Gobble, gobble, gobble!”
    “BOOM”
    Went the farmer’s gun
    And the rooster fell down dead.
    “Don’t tell me what I’m
    Supposed to say!”
    Said the turkey,
    “Cock-a-doodle-doo!”

    You’re Not Supposed to Say That MP3

    Many thanks to my husband, Jason Pomerantz, for playing the part of the Turkey (hee, hee, hee)!

    Hope you enjoyed the show!

    Mama Lisa

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    Walt Whitman’s Woods and his Poem "Miracles"

    Thursday, October 29th, 2009

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    We took a walk today in Walt Whitman’s woods in West Hills, on Long Island, east of New York City.  I highly recommend taking an autumnal hike or stroll if you can.  Then you may feel the truth in Whitman’s line, "As to me I know of nothing else but miracles". There’s much beauty out there.  Here are some photos I took in Walt’s woods, followed by his poem "Miracles", and then recordings of two people reading the poem.

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    Miracles
    by Walt Whitman

    Why, who makes much of a miracle?
    As to me I know of nothing else but miracles,
    Whether I walk the streets of Manhattan,
    Or dart my sight over the roofs of houses toward the sky,
    Or wade with naked feet along the beach just in the edge of the water,
    Or stand under trees in the woods,
    Or talk by day with any one I love, or sleep in the bed at night with any one I love,
    Or sit at table at dinner with the rest,
    Or look at strangers opposite me riding in the car,
    Or watch honey-bees busy around the hive of a summer forenoon,
    Or animals feeding in the fields,
    Or birds, or the wonderfulness of insects in the air,
    Or the wonderfulness of the sundown, or of stars shining so quiet and bright,
    Or the exquisite delicate thin curve of the new moon in spring;
    These with the rest, one and all, are to me miracles,
    The whole referring, yet each distinct and in its place.

    To me every hour of the light and dark is a miracle,
    Every cubic inch of space is a miracle,
    Every square yard of the surface of the earth is spread with the same,
    Every foot of the interior swarms with the same.
    To me the sea is a continual miracle,
    The fishes that swim-the rocks-the motion of the waves-the ships with men in them,
    What stranger miracles are there?

    *****

    MP3 of Miracles read by Jeannette Selig

    MP3 of Miracles read by Mark J. Wilson

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    Can Anyone Help with a Czech Rhyme that Sounds Like “Hou-py, hou-py, hou-py”?

    Wednesday, October 14th, 2009

    Anna wrote:

    Do you know the nursery rhyme that begins:

    Hou-py, hou-py, hou-py,
    Ko-cka sue-dla krou-py
    Do-cour hruch

    I’ll try my best to write this poem-rhyme out for you. Of course, I will not be able to add the correct accent marks, punctuations marks, etc. The writing I have to copy is very small, so I hope my letters are accurate! Here goes!

    Hou-pa-cka

    hou-py, hou-py, hou-py!
    ko-cka sue-dla krou-py,
    ko-cour hrac
    na ka-mnach;
    ko-la-la se hue-va-ly,
    ze jim ta-ky ne-da-ly.
    hou-py, hou-py, hou-py!
    by-ly vsec-ky hlou-py.

    A friend of mine gave me a beautiful framed gift of this rhyme… he says his grandfather would sing it to him. But he doesn’t know what it means.

    My mother is Czech, Vlasta, but she no longer can help me with this.

    Your help would be very nice.

    Thank you, Anna Vdolek Bratney

    If anyone knows the correct spelling of the rhyme and/or if you can provide an English translation, please let us know in the comments below.

    Thanks in advance!

    Mama Lisa

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    Robert Frost’s Proverb: “Good fences make good neighbors.”

    Friday, September 18th, 2009

    The proverb “Good fences make good neighbors” has been around for a couple of centuries in different forms. One place it can be found is in Poor Richard’s Almanack by Benjamin Franklin. His version is: “Love your neighbor; yet don’t pull down your hedge.”

    It’s interesting that the specific wording of the proverb, “Good fences make good neighbors” is fairly modern. It comes from Robert Frost’s poem Mending Wall from 1914. The poem centers around this concept and questions whether it’s true or not. Here’s the poem…

    Mending Wall

    Something there is that doesn’t love a wall,
    That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it
    And spills the upper boulders in the sun,
    And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.
    The work of hunters is another thing:
    I have come after them and made repair
    Where they have left not one stone on a stone,
    But they would have the rabbit out of hiding,
    To please the yelping dogs. The gaps I mean,
    No one has seen them made or heard them made,
    But at spring mending-time we find them there.
    I let my neighbor know beyond the hill;
    And on a day we meet to walk the line
    And set the wall between us once again.
    We keep the wall between us as we go.
    To each the boulders that have fallen to each.
    And some are loaves and some so nearly balls
    We have to use a spell to make them balance:
    ‘Stay where you are until our backs are turned!’
    We wear our fingers rough with handling them.
    Oh, just another kind of outdoor game,
    One on a side. It comes to little more:
    There where it is we do not need the wall:
    He is all pine and I am apple orchard.
    My apple trees will never get across
    And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him.
    He only says, “Good fences make good neighbors”.
    Spring is the mischief in me, and I wonder
    If I could put a notion in his head:
    Why do they make good neighbors? Isn’t it
    Where there are cows? But here there are no cows.
    Before I built a wall I’d ask to know
    What I was walling in or walling out,
    And to whom I was like to give offense.
    Something there is that doesn’t love a wall,
    That wants it down.” I could say “Elves” to him,
    But it’s not elves exactly, and I’d rather
    He said it for himself. I see him there,
    Bringing a stone grasped firmly by the top
    In each hand, like an old-stone savage armed.
    He moves in darkness as it seems to me,
    Not of woods only and the shade of trees.
    He will not go behind his father’s saying,
    And he likes having thought of it so well
    He says again, “Good fences make good neighbors.”

    Listen to an MP3 of Mending Wall as read by Alan Davis-Drake for LibriVox

    Listen to a different MP3 of Mending Wall as read by Teresa Montgomery for Librivox

    The narrator of the poem is annoyed by his neighbor’s insistence that there has to be a fence between them. If only his neighbor would get beyond his father’s beliefs – originating in an old proverb – and reconsider his thinking.

    What’s ironic is that Frost coined the new wording of a proverb: “Good fences make good neighbors”, while questioning the very wisdom behind it!

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    Modern Poetry Around the World

    Wednesday, September 16th, 2009

    Cross Cultural Poetics has podcasts featuring modern poets from different countries around the world.

    The first podcast features Egyptian poets Mohamed Metwalli and Maged Zaher and Chinese poet Zhang Er. They compare Chinese and Arabic poetry to English poetry.

    Zhang Er points out that Chinese poetry has no tense – so it has an eternal feeling to it. It has no plurals, no articles and no pronouns. Whereas English poetry is more static – it’s set in time.

    Maged Zaher points out that the spoken Arabic language is different from the written language. He said the written Arabic language is more ornamental and rhetorical and that made his poetry more sentimental. To be free of this he writes his poetry in English.

    Mohamed Metwalli said he writes in Arabic because that’s the language he dreams in. He speaks English and studied English literature growing up, so there is an influence of it on his poetry. He writes in a modern Arabic form that’s influenced by English.

    You can listen to the 1st podcast here.

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    Jane Taylor’s Poem about a Pussy-cat is about How Kids Should Treat Pets

    Monday, August 24th, 2009

    Illustration of Kids playing with a Cat

    The poem below by Jane Taylor (1783-1824) is about a child telling how gently she will handle her little pussy-cat. The 1st two verses can be found in many collections of nursery rhymes. If you read the whole poem, you can see how it could be a good one to read to children with pets… talking about how to treat them nicely.

    Little Pussy
    By Jane Taylor

    I love little Pussy,
    Her coat is so warm;
    And if I don’t hurt her
    She’ll do me no harm.

    So I’ll not pull her tail,
    Nor drive her away,
    But Pussy and I
    Very gently will play.

    She shall sit by my side,
    And I’ll give her some food;
    And she’ll love me because
    I am gentle and good.

    I’ll pat little Pussy,
    And then she will purr,
    And thus show her thanks
    For my kindness to her.

    I’ll not pinch her ears,
    Nor tread on her paw,
    Lest I should provoke her
    To use her sharp claw.

    I never will vex her,
    Nor make her displeased,
    For Puss doesn’t like
    To be worried or teased.

    MP3 of Little Pussy-cat

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    Poem: A Landscape

    Monday, August 24th, 2009

    A Landscape

    Land, green-brown;
    Sea, brown-grey;
    Island, dull peacock blue;
    Sky, stone-grey.

    I like the imagery of this poem. What’s interesting is that the sea is brown-grey and the island is blue.

    “A Landscape” was originally Japanese. If anyone can send in the original, I’d love to add it here. Please email me at lisa@mamalisa.com .

    Thanks!

    Mama Lisa

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    Poem – The Bee by Emily Dickinson

    Friday, August 7th, 2009

    The Bee

    His labor is a chant,
    His idleness a tune;
    Oh, for the bee’s experience
    Of clovers and of noon!

    Emily Dickinson – Poems XV

    Photo of a Bee

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    Poem: Spinning Top

    Wednesday, July 15th, 2009

    Spinning Top

    When I spin round without a stop
    And keep my balance like the top,
    I find that soon the floor will swim
    Before my eyes; and then, like him,
    I lie all dizzy on the floor
    Until I feel like spinning more.

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    Gobolinks

    Thursday, June 18th, 2009

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    A Gobolink is like an inkblot, but it’s made for fun, not for psychological analysis!  To make a gobolink, you drop a little ink on a sheet of white paper. Fold the paper in half and press down the ink on the two halves of the paper.  Then you open the paper and you have a unified image. (You’ll have a mirror image on each side of the folded paper.) 

    You can see an old book of these images online at the Library of Congress.  It’s called Gobolinks, or Shadow-Pictures for Young and Old, by Ruth McEnery Stuart and Albert Bigelow Paine. (New York: The Century Co., 1896).  The authors wrote poems and limericks to go along with their gobolinks.

    Here are a couple of my favorites from the book…

    The Tail of Taddy PoleimageThere was a little polliwog
    His name was Taddy Pole.
    He lived within a little bog
    Beside a crawfish hole.

    image

    And all the day did Taddy play,
    Around a sunken log.
    Until he lost his tail one day,
    And then he was a frog.

    *****

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    The Faithful Notes

    An old guitar once broke its strings,
    And all the musical notes took wings;
    They hurried away to lands afar
    But two of them stayed with the old guitar.

    Enjoy!

    Mama Lisa

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    A Limerick about a Yak with a Jaguar on His Back

    Tuesday, June 16th, 2009

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    In Africa wandered a yak;
    A jaguar jumped up on his back.
    Said the yak, with a frown,
    "Prithee quick get thee down;
    You’re almost too heavy, alack!"

    Definition of a Limerick: A five line poem with the form AABBA, often humorous or nonsensical verse, popularized by Edward Lear.

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    On Friendship…

    Monday, June 15th, 2009

    Friendship is no plant of hasty growth,
    Though planted in esteem’s deep-fixed soil,
    The gradual culture of kind intercourse
    Must bring it to perfection.

    By Joanna Baillie

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    Crocodile Tears – A Poem

    Saturday, June 13th, 2009

    "Crocodile Tears" is a poem that could be sung as a song.  The expression "Crocodile Tears" means an insincere show of emotions.  According to Wikipedia, "The expression comes from an ancient anecdote that crocodiles weep in order to lure their prey, or that they cry for the victims they are eating. They are fake tears."

    Illustration of a Crocodile

    Here’s the poem called "Crocodile Tears"…

    Crocodile Tears

    On the banks of the Nile an old crocodile
    Lay sunning himself one day,
    And he gently did croon an attempt at a tune,
    As he watched some small children at play-
    At play-
    As he watched some small children at play.

    He pondered awhile, and a hungering smile
    Revealed the extent of his jaw;
    He was twenty feet long, was uncommonly strong,
    And his teeth were arranged like a saw-
    Like a saw-
    And his teeth were arranged like a saw.

    He used every wile their hearts to beguile,
    As toward them he stealthily stole;
    He balanced each scale, and waggled his tail,
    Then gobbled those children up whole-
    Up whole-
    Then gobbled those children up whole.

    And such is the style of this old crocodile,
    He sheds bitter tears o’er his prey;
    He was filled with deep gloom when he thought of their doom,
    And he wept all the rest of the day-
    The day-
    And he wept all the rest of the day.

    Beware of a crocodile’s tears, better yet, beware of the crocodile itself!

    Mama Lisa

    PS The image is from "Grosses bêtes & petites bêtes", images and text by André-Hellé (Paris, 1912), with a little graphical editing by Mama Lisa.

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    “My Shadow” a Poem by Robert Louis Stevenson with MP3

    Friday, May 29th, 2009

    “My Shadow” is a wonderful poem by Robert Louis Stevenson (1850-94). It’s a great piece to share with your kids, grandkids or students! You can listen to it recited, by clicking the link below…

    Listen to MP3 of My Shadow

    My Shadow

    I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me,
    And what can be the use of him is more than I can see.
    He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head;
    And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my bed.

    The funniest thing about him is the way he likes to grow-
    Not at all like proper children, which is always very slow;
    For he sometimes shoots up taller like an india-rubber ball,
    And he sometimes gets so little that there’s none of him at all.

    He hasn’t got a notion of how children ought to play,
    And can only make a fool of me in every sort of way.
    He stays so close beside me, he’s a coward, you can see;
    I’d think shame to stick to nursie as that shadow sticks to me!

    One morning, very early, before the sun was up,
    I rose and found the shining dew on every buttercup;
    But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepy-head,
    Had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed.

    Enjoy!

    Mama Lisa

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    A Memorial Day Poem

    Friday, May 22nd, 2009

    Illustration of Memorial Day Flowers

    MEMORIAL FLOWERS.
    By M. M.

    Blue violets open their saintly eyes,
    Red columbines bend and sway,
    White star-flowers twinkle in beds of moss,
    And, blooming, they seem to say,
    “We bring you the red and the white and the blue
    To welcome Memorial-day.”

    So gather them, children, at earliest dawn,
    While yet they are fresh with dew,
    And we’ll scatter them over the sacred mounds
    Where slumber our soldiers true;
    For we’ll give them only the colors they loved-
    The red and the white and the blue.

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    Dandelion Poem

    Friday, May 22nd, 2009

    DANDELION.
    By Amy Ella Blanchard

    “Golden-head, Golden-head,
    The sun must have kissed you.”
    “So he did,” said Golden-head,
    “Just before he went to bed.”

    Illustration of a Girl with a Dandelion

    “Golden-head, you’re a white head;
    The frost must have nipped you.”
    “No; he would not be so bold;
    I am only growing old.”

    Illustration of a Girl with a Dandelion

    “Puffy-ball, Puffy-ball,
    Where’s the wind taking you?
    I’m afraid another day
    You will all be blown away.”

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    Singing – A Poem by Robert Louis Stevenson

    Saturday, May 9th, 2009
    SINGING

    OF speckled eggs the birdie sings
    And nests among the trees;
    The sailor sings of ropes and things
    In ships upon the seas.

    The children sing in far Japan,
    The children sing in Spain;
    The organ with the organ man
    Is singing in the rain.

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    Only a Mother’s Love – A Spanish Poem with an MP3 Recording

    Saturday, May 2nd, 2009

    It’s May, the month for Mothers Day around the world! Here’s a Spanish poem called “Sólo el Amor de Una Madre”. You’ll find it below in the original Spanish, with an English translation and an MP3 recording of it being recited in Spanish…

    Sólo el Amor de Una Madre

    Sólo el amor de una Madre apoyará,
    Cuando todo el mundo deja de hacerlo.

    Sólo el amor de una Madre confiará,
    Cuando nadie otro cree.

    Sólo el amor de una Madre perdonará,
    Cuando ninguno otro entenderá.

    Sólo el amor de una Madre honrará,
    No importa en qué pruebas has estado.

    Sólo el amor de una Madre resistirá,
    Por cualquier tiempo de prueba.

    No hay ningún otro amor terrenal,
    Más grande que el de una Madre.

    MP3 Recording of Sólo el Amor de Una Madre by Monique Palomares.

    Here’s the English translation penned by me, Lisa Yannucci, and my colleague, Monique Palomares, who works with me on Mamá Lisa’s World en español… Enjoy!

    Only a Mother’s Love

    Only a mother’s love will sustain,
    When nobody else does.

    Only a mother’s love will trust,
    When nobody else believes.

    Only a mother’s love will forgive,
    When nobody else understands.

    Only a mother’s love will honor,
    Whatever the cause.

    Only a mother’s love will withstand,
    Any test of time.

    There is no other earthly love,
    Greater than that of a mother.

    Many thanks to Monique for helping with the translation and for reciting this poem for us!

    Here are some other posts about Mother’s Day, including other poems:

    Happy Mother’s Day!

    Mama Lisa

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    MY MOTHER. – A Poem

    Thursday, April 30th, 2009

    Mother’s Day is celebrated in May in many countries around the world.  Here’s a poem called "My Mother" from a publication called Spring Blossoms

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    MY MOTHER.

    In infancy’s unconscious day,
    I weak and helpless long did lay,
    Who o’er my form did watch and pray,
    My Mother.

    Who nourished me with fondest care,
    And bore me forth to take the air,
    And plucked me fruits and flowers rare,
    My Mother.

    Who daily, as I older grew,
    Still taught me lessons bright and true,
    And virtue’s path kept in my view,
    My Mother.

    Oh, may I truly, every year,
    Return with love and tender care,
    The blessings I from thee did share,
    My Mother.

    Here are some other posts about Mother’s Day, including other poems:

    Happy Mother’s Day!

    Mama Lisa

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    Some Proverbs about Earth for Earth Day

    Wednesday, April 22nd, 2009

    Image of Earth by Lisa Yannucci

    Here are some proverbs for Earth Day…

    Old Proverbs:

    -The Earth produces all things and receives all again.
    -Earth is the Best Shelter
    -What the heaven showers down, the Earth drinks up. (Greek Proverb)

    This one is not about the Earth, but it involves the Earth.

    -Six feet of earth make all men of one size. (Italian – Sei pie di terra agguaglion tutti.)

    Here’s a line from Tennyson, The Day Dream (L’ Envoi.):

    We are Ancients of the earth,
    And in the morning of the times.

    Happy Earth Day!

    Mama Lisa

    PS Feel free to add any poems or proverbs about Earth in the comments below.

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    ________

    Copyright ©2009 by Lisa Yannucci. All rights reserved.
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