How children’s poetry has changed, again

Hi everyone,

I recently started work on a new collection of poems, even though I have no reason to think it will find a home in today’s publishing world. Why? Because the poems are funny. Traditionally, poems for children tended to be rather serious and didactic. Along came Silverstein and Prelutsky and changed all that. They gave poets permission to be funny, even silly, because children want, need, and delight in be tickled. I owe both of those poets my gratitude. I began my career with a number of collections of humorous poems. The first one, Somebody Catch My Homework, sold the first printing in weeks and was into its third printing in months.

I followed Somebody Catch My Homework with The Boy Who Counted Stars, A Thousand Cousins, and The Alligator in the Closet, all filled with funny poems. During the years since then, I’ve seen a swing back toward poems that teach. These days we tend to write to fit into classroom lessons, to advance a child’s education. The poetry can be well done and much of it is, but I’d guess that the number of books written mostly to amuse and encourage a desire to read more books is a smaller percentage of the whole than it was for a while.

LIFE’S NOT FAIR!
(from Alligator in the Closet)

I changed the roll 
An hour ago
So there’d be plenty there.

I’m telling you
The roll was new,
We even had a spare.

So now I go,
And don’t you know,
The roll’s completely bare.

I have to yelp
And cry for help!
Life just isn’t fair!

THE TROUBLE WITH MY HOUSE
(from The Boy Who Counted Stars)

I haven’t any windows
And I haven’t any doors,
I haven’t any ceilings
And I haven’t any floors,
I haven’t got an attic
And I haven’t any halls,
I haven’t got a basement
And I haven’t any walls,
I haven’t got a roof
And that’s the reason, I suppose,
Why rain keeps falling on my head
And dripping off my nose.

WHAT MAKES IT ALL WORTHWHILE
(from A Thousand Cousins)

I do my homework every night,
I climb in bed by nine,
I say, “Yes, ma’am” and “No, sir,”
And I never beg or whine.
I make my bed
And clean my room
And hang my clothes away.
I shine my shoes
And wash my hair
And shower every day.
Mama says that I’m as good
As any son could be,
And Daddy tells my brother
To try to be more like me.
Which makes my brother crazy,
Which makes me sweetly smile,
Which makes him scream,
“I’ll get you for this!”
Which makes being good worthwhile. 

I miss those days and want to be funny again, if I remember how, even though it may be harder to find an editor who can find a place for it. Even if I can’t, I will still love writing funny poems for an audience of children who may or may not ever hear them.

“Based on” a true story

Hi everyone,

In 1996, I published this poem in a book called A Thousand Cousins, illustrated by BETSY LEWIN and published by Wordsong/Boyds Mills Press. If I were in the film business, I might have said that the poem was “based on a true story.” My dad did snore, but nothing else in the poem happened. That’s why I’m always skeptical when I see a movie “based on a true story.”

I chose to repeat the nasal sound of the word snore to end every line. If you read the poem aloud, leaning into that sound lends a bit more of a comic air to the overall sense of the imagery. Betsy, being the one and only Betsy, had great fun with the illustrations. I met Betsy at a children’s literature festival in Warrensburg, Missouri. I saw her work on display, loved her impish sense of humor, introduced myself, asked if she might be interested in illustrating a manuscript I had in the works with KENT BROWN at Boyds Mills Press, and Betsy asked to see it. The manuscript was my first book of poetry, Somebody Catch My Homework. In the end, Betsy illustrated three of my books, the two mentioned plus The Boy Who Counted Stars. She went on to win many awards during her career, including a Caldecott Honor for Click, Clack, Moo; Cows That Type by Doreen Cronin. These days Betsy and I stay in touch and dream of doing another book together. Here’s the poem, “Daddy’s Snore.”

Daddy’s Snore

I try to fall asleep before
My daddy starts his nightly snore,
For once he does you can’t ignore
The chain saw sound of Daddy’s snore.
The ocean pounding on the shore
Has nothing on my daddy’s snore.
The lion with his mighty roar
Is a pussycat to Daddy’s snore.
My sister says, “I just abhor
The way our father loves to snore!”
Our neighbors say, “It’s such a bore
Listening to your father snore.”
I’ve counted sheep and walked the floor
And stuffed my ears with cotton galore.
I cannot stand this anymore.
I love my daddy to the core,
But I’ve got to have some silence or
I’m never going to learn to snore.

(c) 1996 David L Harrison, all rights reserved

Our Little Brother

Hi everyone,

This isn’t my August Word of the Month poem. I’ll write one soon. But for now I’ll show you a “name” poem I did for a book called A THOUSAND COUSINS, published by Boyds Mills Press in 1996. Thank you for clicking over my way today. I appreciate it.

Out Little Brother

Our little brother’s name is Paul
Bartholomew Frockmorton
William Jennings Lincoln
Alexander Jackson Horton
Richard Lyndon Timothy
Leonardo Jeffrey Sid
Edward Perry Johnson,
But we just call him kid,
“Cause by the time you holler, “Paul
Bartholomew Frockmorton
William Jennings Lincoln
Alexander Jackson Horton
Richard Lyndon Timothy
Leonardo Jeffrey Sid
Edward Perry, OPEN THE DOOR!”
You’re sorry that you did.

The delicious artwork is by Betsy Lewin. Isn’t it wonderful?