Kenn Nesbitt

Earlier, I tried out some of his Poems to see if anyone liked them. If you did, here is the author's biography from his site:

Who I Am

I am 50 years old and I was born on February 20, 1962 in Berkeley, California. I grew up in Fresno and San Diego, California.

I now live in a big old house in Spokane, Washington, with my wife Ann, our son Max and our daughter Madison. We have two cats named Raki and Sambuca.

My Poetry

My first children's poem -- Scrawny Tawny Skinner -- was written in 1994 after having dinner with a friend whose 4-year-old daughter did everything she could to get out of eating her dinner. Shortly after that, I wrote two more poems, My Foot Fell Asleep and Binkley. During 1995 and 1996, I wrote about three or four poems a year (including You Can Never Be Too Careful and A Meloncholy Tale, whenever the mood struck me. (All of these poems, by the way, appear in the book My Foot Fell Asleep.)

In early 1997 I decided I would like to write an entire book of children's poems. In 1998, I published my first collection of poetry, entitled My Foot Fell Asleep. I published a sequel called I've Seen My Kitchen Sink in 1999 and a third book, Sailing Off to Singapore, in 2000. The Aliens Have Landed at Our School! was published by Meadowbrook Press and is distributed by Simon and Schuster. My first collection of poems about school, When the Teacher Isn't Looking: and Other Funny School Poems was published by Meadowbrook Press in 2005. In 2006 Meadowbrook also published a of Christmas poems I co-authored with Linda Knaus entitled Santa Got Stuck in the Chimney. My newest book is another collection of funny school poems entitled Revenge of the Lunch Ladies. My next book, My Hippo Has the Hiccups: And Other Poems I Totally Made Up is coming out in spring, 2009.

If you think he's cool, here are some of his poems:

My Teacher Ate My Homework

My teacher ate my homework, Which I thought was rather odd. He sniffed at it and smiled with an approving sort of nod. He took a little nibble -- it's unusual, but true -- then had a somewhat larger bite and gave a thoughtful chew. I think he must have liked it, for he really went to town. He gobbled it with gusto and he wolfed the whole thing down. He licked off all his fingers, gave a burp and said, "You pass." I guess that's how they grade you when you're in a cooking class. --Kenn Nesbitt Copyright © 2009 Kenn Nesbitt All Rights Reserved I Taught My Cat to Clean My Room I taught my cat to clean my room, to use a bucket, brush and broom, to dust my books and picture frames, and pick up all my toys and games. He puts my pants and shirts away, and makes my bed, and I should say it seems to me it's only fair he puts away my underwear. In fact, I think he's got it made. I'm not too happy with our trade. He may pick up my shoes and socks, but I clean out his litterbox. --Kenn Nesbitt Copyright © 2009 Kenn Nesbitt All Rights Reserved Please Don't Read This Poem Please don't read this poem. It's only meant for me. That's it. Just move along now. There's nothing here to see. Besides, I'm sure you'd rather just go outside and play. So put the poem down now and slowly back away. Hey, why are you still reading? That isn't very nice. I've asked you once politely. Don't make me ask you twice. I'm telling you, it's private. Do not read one more line. Hey! That's one more. Now stop it. This isn't yours; it's mine. You're not allowed to read this. You really have to stop. If you don't quit this instant, I swear I'll call a cop. He'll drag you off in handcuffs. He'll lock you up in jail, and leave you there forever until you're old and frail. Your friends will all forget you. You won't be even missed. Your family, too, will likely forget that you exist. And all because you read this instead of having fun. It's too late now, amigo; the poem's nearly done. There's only one solution. Here's what you'll have to do: Tell all your friends and family they shouldn't read it too. --Kenn Nesbitt

Copyright © 2009 Kenn Nesbitt
All Rights Reserved




These poems and information about the author are from: http://www.poetry4kids.com/

Moonrise

This is a poem in progress. I think it's coming along.

I sit apon my cold stone steps
waiting in the fading twilight.
I look at the darkening sky
watching for the night.

As a blanket of darkness fills the sky
I know it will come soon
for the darkness of the night will come
with the rising of the moon.

A Poem I wrote at 10:21 PM last night

Here is my fantastic poem!

Weekend Mornings

 In the early weekend mornings

After the darkness of the night

I open up the window shade and in pours all the light.

I listen to the chirping birds

I listen and I see

The stunning orange sunrise like they made it just for me.

No loud imposing voices

No pounding on the stair

Just nature claiming moments that it shouldn't have to share.

So preserve the stunning sunrise.

Save the chirping of the birds. 

For soon enough along this path it no longer will be yours.

Some Fun Poems

Here are some fun and silly poems by Kenn Nesbitt:

Timbuktu

I'll tell you of a man I knew who claimed he came from Timbuktu. He said, "I have the world to see!" So off he went to Timbukthree. Then Timbukfour and Timbukfive were where he seemed to come alive. He went to Timbuksix and -seven, and Timbukeight, -nine, -ten, -eleven. Then Timbuktwelve and -thirteen too, he liked them more than Timbuktu. The last I heard, he's doing fine. He lives in Timbukninetynine. So, kids, if all you ever do is take a trip to Timbuktu, at least you'll have a lot more fun than staying home in Timbukone. But if you have the world to see... continue on to Timbukthree. --Kenn Nesbitt Copyright © 2009 Kenn Nesbitt All Rights Reserved My Puppy Punched Me In The Eye My puppy punched me in the eye. My rabbit whacked my ear. My ferret gave a frightful cry and roundhouse kicked my rear. My lizard flipped me upside down. My kitten kicked my head. My hamster slammed me to the ground and left me nearly dead. So my advice? Avoid regrets; no matter what you do, don't ever let your family pets take lessons in kung fu. --Kenn Nesbitt Copyright © 2009 Kenn Nesbitt All Rights Reserved All My Great Excuses I started on my homework but my pen ran out of ink. My hamster ate my homework. My computer's on the blink. I accidentally dropped it in the soup my mom was cooking. My brother flushed it down the toilet when I wasn't looking. My mother ran my homework through the washer and the dryer. An airplane crashed into our house. My homework caught on fire. Tornadoes blew my notes away. Volcanoes struck our town. My notes were taken hostage by an evil killer clown. Some aliens abducted me. I had a shark attack. A pirate swiped my homework and refused to give it back. I worked on these excuses so darned long my teacher said, "I think you'll find it's easier to do the work instead." --Kenn Nesbitt Copyright © 2009 Kenn Nesbitt All Rights Reserved These poems are from the website: http://www.poetry4kids.com/

Some Favorite Poems

This is by e. e. cummings. He wanted to prove that you don't always have to follow the rules for good poetry!

maggie and milly and molly and may

maggie and millie and molly and may
went down to the beach(to play one day)

and  maggie discovered a shell that sang
so sweetly she couldn't remember her troubles, and

millie befriended a stranded star
whose rays five languid fingers were;

and molly was chased by a horrible thing
which raced sideways while blowing bubbles: and

may came home with a smooth round stone
as small as a world and as large as alone.

For whatever we lose (like a you or a me)
it's always ourselves we find in the sea.


Like it?

Here's another poem. It's by  Noel Coward.


The Boy Actor


I can remember, I can remember
The months of November and December
Were filled for me with peculiar joys
So different from those of other boys.
For other boys would be counting the days
Until end of term and holiday time;
But I was acting in Christmas plays
While they were taken to pantomimes.
I didn't envy their new suits,
Their children's dances and Christmas trees;
My life had wonderful substitutes
For such conventional treats as these.
I didn't envy their country larks,
Their organized games in paneled halls,
While they made snowmen in stately parks,
I was counting the curtain calls.

I remember the auditions, the nerve-racking auditions,
Darkened auditorium, and empty, dusty stage;
Little girls in ballet dresses practicing positions,
Gentlemen with pince-nez asking you your age.
Hopefulness and nervousness struggling within you,
Dreading that familiar phrase: "Thank you dear, no more."
Straining every muscle, every tendon, every sinew,
To do your dance much better than you'd ever done before.
Think of your performance! Never mind the others,
Never mind the pianist; talent must prevail;
Never mind the baleful eyes of other children's mothers
Glaring from the corners, and willing you to fail.

I can remember, I can remember,
The months of November and December
Were more significant to me
than other months could ever be.
For they were the months of high romance
When destiny waited on tip toe
When every boy actor stood a chance
Of getting into a Christmas show.
Not for me the dubious heaven
of being some prefect's protege;
Not for me the second eleven;
For me, two performances a day.

Ah, those first rehearsals! Only very few lines,
Rushing home to Mother, learning them by heart,
'Enter left, through window.' Dots to mark the cue lines.
'Exit with the others.' Still, it WAS a part.
Opening performance, legs a bit unsteady,
Dedicated tension shivers down my spine;
Powder, grease and eye black, sticks of makeup ready,
Leichner number three and number five and number nine.
World of strange enchantment! Magic for a small boy
Dreaming of the future, reaching for the crown,
Rigid in the dressingroom, listening for the call-boy:
'Overture, beginners! Everybody down!'

I can remember, I can remember,
The months of November and December
Although climatically cold and damp
Meant more to me than Aladdin's lamp.
I see myself, having got a job
Walking on wings along the Strand;
Uncertain whether to laugh or sob,
And clutching tightly my mother's hand.
I never cared who scored the goal,
Or which side won the silver cup;
I never learned to bat or bowl,
But I heard the curtain going up.

It's long, but it's a GREAT poem!!!!!!

Funny Poems Home Made

1. Yankee Doodle Mix-up


Yankee Doodle went to town
Riding on Obama.
He had to get off really quick
'Cause presidents have trauma!

2. Epitaph


Here lies Madeline.
She drove into a big street sign.
She never really learned to drive
And now she's no longer alive.

Isn't that upbeat!

3. Limerick


There once was a cow from the zoo.
She was taken ill with the flu.
But once she was well
No one ever could tell
If she'd ever stop turning blue.

Exaggeration Poem

          Here is an exaggeration poem:

My Mom Is Better Than Your Mom
My mom is better than your mom.
The oatmeal she makes is so good for me I could bench press 100 pounds when I was five.
She says "Have a bright day," as I walk out the door, ready to get straight A’s in school.
She makes spinach and Brussels sprouts so delicious I always ask for seconds.
People are always telling her, "You’re so beautiful, you should be a model." But she always responds, "It’s not your outer beauty but your inner beauty that counts most."
She never nags me to do my homework. Instead, she asks "How are you doing with your
homework? Need some help?" I never do. I want her to be proud of me.
And when she puts me to bed at night, she tucks me, gives me a kiss,
and I’m asleep—just like that.
My mom is nicer than your mom.

Here are some fun limerics:

THER ONCE WAS AN OLD MAN FROM PERU

There was an old man from Peru, who dreamed he was eating his shoe. He awoke in the night with a terrible fright, and found out that it was quite true. THERE ONCE WAS A FELLOW NAMED TIM There once was a fellow named Tim whose dad never taught him to swim. He fell off a dock and sunk like a rock. And that was the end of him. THERE ONCE WAS A YOUNG GIRL NAMED JILL There once was a young girl named Jill. Who was scared by the sight of a drill. She brushed every day So her dentist would say, “Your teeth are so perfect; no bill.”

A Journey

Here is a poem I really like:






I journey through my soul
Trying to find a way inside
I journey through my heart
Trying to listen to my mind
I journey through the truth
For which I've never known
I journey by myself
I journey all alone
My heart tries to discover
The truth it was never told
But will I ever find it
The longing extremely bold
But when that day comes 
When the truth is discovered
I will finally understand
My heart will be recovered

Welcome!

Hello There! Welcome to poetry for people! Where anyone can post their own poems or their favorite ones, read other's poems , and even suggest different sites to visit! April is poetry month. So jot down your ideas and write, write, write!