Description -- Shel Silverstein

(Poem #1850) Description George said, "God is short and fat." Nick said, "No, He's tall and lean." Len said, "With a long white beard." "No," said John, "He's shaven clean." Will said, "He's black," Bob said, "He's white." Rhonda Rose said, "He's a She." I smiled but never showed 'em all The autographed photograph God sent to me. -- Shel Silverstein

I love the way Silverstein can write on several levels at once, and appeal
to the reader on all of those levels. Like Saxe's archetypal "Blind Men and
the Elephant" (and, seriously, who wasn't reminded of that?), today's poem
uses humour and a healthy dash of absurdity to highlight what, in other
contexts, is a very heated question indeed - and, for such is the gift of
the poet, does so entirely without offense.

The technique of using children as mouthpieces to examine philosophical
questions is by no means unique to Silverstein, but it is a technique he
wields very well, and it makes his poems both a pleasure to read and a
source of reflection. "Description" is, perhaps, a trifle more facile, a
trifle less engaging than such masterpieces as "The Little Boy and the Old
Man" [Poem #996], but it is a charming poem for all that.

martin

It's Dark in Here -- Shel Silverstein

(Poem #1670) It's Dark in Here I am writing these poems From inside a lion, And it's rather dark in here. So please excuse the handwriting Which may not be too clear. But this afternoon by the lion's cage I'm afraid I got too near. And I'm writing these lines From inside a lion, And it's rather dark in here. -- Shel Silverstein

A bit of nostalgia attached to today's piece - it's the first Silverstein
poem I ever read, thanks to it being included in one of my school poetry
books. This was way back in my early childhood, when I had no idea who
Silverstein was, but my siblings and I all adored the poem and can, to this
day, quote it with much glee and amusement.

It appears to have started life as a song - you can see the lyrics at
[broken link] http://www.banned-width.com/shel/works/lion.html - and there's a charming
illustration alongside, though not the one I remember from my textbook.

And speaking of Silverstein and textbooks, I'd like to quote a marvellous
excerpt from Jim Trelease's "Read Aloud Handbook" that I discovered when
searching for today's poem:

    'Where the Sidewalk Ends', by Shel Silverstein, is so popular with
    children, librarians and teachers insist it is the book most frequently
    stolen from their schools and libraries. Over the last eight years I've
    asked eighty thousand teachers if they know 'Where the Sidewalk Ends'
    (two million copies in print), and three-quarters of the teachers raise
    their hands. "Wonderful!" I say. "Now, who has enough copies of this
    book for every child in your room?" Nobody raises a hand. In eight
    years, only eighteen teachers out of eighty thousand had enough copies
    in their rooms for every child.

    I continue, "Do each of you know the books in your classroom no child
    would ever consider stealing?" They nod in recognition. "Do you have
    enough copies of those books for every child in the room?" Reluctantly,
    they nod agreement. Here we've got a book kids love to read so much
    they'll steal it right and left and we haven't got enough copies; but
    every year we've got twenty-eight copies of a book they hate.

       -- Jim Trelease, "What's Right or Wrong With Poetry"
                         [broken link] http://www.poets.org/exh/parts.cfm?prmID=81

Check Trelease's website [http://www.trelease-on-reading.com/] out - I think
he's just become one of my heroes.

martin

Point of View -- Shel Silverstein

Guest poem submitted by Salima Virani:

(Poem #1462) Point of View Thanksgiving dinner's sad and thankless Christmas dinner's dark and blue When you stop and try to see it From the turkey's point of view. Sunday dinner isn't sunny Easter feasts are just bad luck When you see it from the viewpoint Of a chicken or a duck. Oh how I once loved tuna salad Pork and lobsters, lamb chops too 'Til I stopped and looked at dinner From the dinner's point of view. -- Shel Silverstein

I don't mean to rain on Vijay's parade (see Poem #1461).  In all
honesty, I love good food too!  But I could not resist sending this one
out as a cheeky retort to Vijay's submission.  Trust Shel to give
perspective to the other side.  The poem is humorous but the point he
gets across is deep and somber!  Remember "The little boy and the old
man" also by Shel Silverstein (Poem # 996)?  That's another classic
example of Shel giving the "other" point of view.

Salima.

Dreadful -- Shel Silverstein

Guest poem sent in by Erin Mansell

(Poem #1247) Dreadful Someone ate the baby. It's rather sad to say. Someone ate the baby So she won't be out to play. We'll never hear her whiney cry Or have to feel if she is dry. We'll never hear her asking "Why?" Someone ate the baby. Someone ate the baby. It's absolutely clear Someone ate the baby 'Cause the baby isn't here. We'll give away her toys and clothes. We'll never have to wipe her nose. Dad says, "That's the way it goes." Someone ate the baby. Someone ate the baby. What a frightful thing to eat! Someone ate the baby Though she wasn't very sweet. It was a heartless thing to do. The policemen haven't got a clue. I simply can't imagine who Would go and (burp) eat the baby. -- Shel Silverstein

All I could think when I read the title of 'the lost baby poem' was
'Dreadful' and since it seems to be very stream of consciousness/related by
a slip of memory on the Minstrels these days I thought I'd pass along this.
I went on to read 'the lost baby poem' and enjoyed it but in the interest of
keeping things light...  My mom use to be very disgusted with this poem.  It
didn't help that it was so easy to commit to memory and recite at
inopportune times.  I still get a kick out of it and thought you might too.
My baby sister doesn't think it's as funny as I do but then she never was
very sweet.  This poem is from 'Where the Sidewalk Ends'.

Erin

In Search of Cinderella -- Shel Silverstein

(Poem #1182) In Search of Cinderella From dusk to dawn, From town to town, Without a single clue, I seek the tender, slender foot To fit this crystal shoe. From dusk to dawn, I try it on Each damsel that I meet. And I still love her so, but oh, I've started hating feet. -- Shel Silverstein

I've always loved fairytale retellings - the stories are so much a part of our
cultural heritage, and have shaped the canon in so many ways, that it's
fascinating to explore their universes in greater depth. What sort of person
was Sleeping Beauty when she was awake? Didn't the Ugly Stepsisters have
their own stories to tell? And, perhaps most intriguingly of all, what *did*
happen after 'happily ever after'? Surely all those tales didn't just taper
off into uninterestingness once we got past the 'wedding in the last reel'.

Luckily, there has been no shortage of excellent retellings, whether
exquisitely serious (Robin McKinley and Gregory Maguire, to name but two
authors whose work has never disappointed me) or sidesplittingly funny
(Roald Dahl's "Revolting Rhymes", Pratchett's "Witches Abroad"). And, apart
from the sheer delight in seeing a favourite playground returned to, these
stories and poems are intriguing for the unexpected - indeed, often
startling - perspectives they bring to bear on the old, familiar material.

Today's poem is one such example - hilarious, yes, but relying for its
humour on a genuine "wow - that's certainly plausible! Why didn't I think of
that?" reaction on the reader's part. Just another of the sparkling little
gems that Silverstein seems to have produced so effortlessly and in such
great quantity - once again, I wish I'd discovered him as a child.

martin

Links:
  I found today's poem in the wonderful collection at
    http://littlecalamity.tripod.com/Poetry/Parodies.html

  Several other poets have enjoyed exploring the canonical folk-universe of
  fairy tales, fables, nursery rhymes, etc. - see, for example, the rather
  Tintinesque duo of Carroll and Carryl:
    [broken link] http://www.cs.rice.edu/~ssiyer/minstrels/index_poet_C.html

Snowball -- Shel Silverstein

I've received several theme submissions; rather than risk an overdose I've
decided to wait a while and then run another series of narrative poems. In
the mean time, on with your regular Minstrels...

(Poem #1128) Snowball I made myself a snowball As perfect as could be. I thought I'd keep it as a pet And let it sleep with me. I made it some pajamas And a pillow for its head. Then last night it ran away, But first it wet the bed. -- Shel Silverstein

'Snowball' is Silverstein at his aww-inspiring best. I know of very few
people who can enter a child's world with such a combination of insight,
humour and oh-so-deceptive simplicity - even 'Calvin and Hobbes' doesn't
have that convincingly natural "if a kid had the talent, this is what he
might write" feel to it. I can just picture a parent keeping a *very*
straight face and sympathising with the child - and I'm very glad there's
nothing to stop me from laughing out loud.

martin

The Little Boy and the Old Man -- Shel Silverstein

Guest poem submitted by Priscilla Jebaraj:

(Poem #996) The Little Boy and the Old Man Said the little boy, "Sometimes I drop my spoon." Said the old man, "I do that, too." The little boy whispered, "I wet my pants." "I do that too," laughed the little old man. Said the little boy, "I often cry." The old man nodded, "So do I." "But worst of all," said the boy, "it seems Grown-ups don't pay attention to me." And he felt the warmth of a wrinkled old hand. "I know what you mean," said the little old man. -- Shel Silverstein

   This is the only Shel Silverstein poem I'd read till the one on the
pencil maker appeared on the Minstrels a couple of days ago [Make that a
couple of months ago - ed.]. I guess the special thing about this poem is
that when I first read it, I was still a child who understood what it felt
like when grown-ups didn't pay attention to me. And it had never really
struck me till then that very often the very old are also treated like the
very young. It helped me understand an aging grandfather. And ever since
then, I've tried to pay attention - to both the little boys and the little
old men around me.

Priscilla.

[Minstrels Links]

Shel Silverstein:
Poem #845, Recipe for a Hippopotamus Sandwich
Poem #892, Stupid Pencil Maker

Stupid Pencil Maker -- Shel Silverstein

Guest poem submitted by Zarine Ninan:

(Poem #892) Stupid Pencil Maker Some dummy built this pencil wrong, The eraser's down here where the point belongs, And the point's at the top - so it's no good to me, It's amazing how stupid some people can be. -- Shel Silverstein

It was really nice to see Silverstein getting his share of glory on the
Minstrels list a couple of days back [1], so here is another absurd one... I
for one simply love his work because it is so ridiculously silly. It just
makes me wonder if he is actually fatuous or a true genius!!! I'd sure like
to believe thet the latter is true.

Those who have had the pleasure of seeing the illustrations that go with his
poems, would agree that they just go hand in hand with his work.

I do regret that I never had a chance to read his work when I was growing
up, but that only gives me an incentive to go back to my childhood, where
even the simplest & most boring facts of life required over-the-top,
seemingly impossible explanations... And of course, these are exactly what
Silverstein offers.

-Zarine.

[1] Make that a couple of months, actually; see Minstrels Poem #845, Recipe
for a Hippopotamus Sandwich, by Shel Silverstein.

Recipe for a Hippopotamus Sandwich -- Shel Silverstein

Uniting the hippo and food motifs...

(Poem #845) Recipe for a Hippopotamus Sandwich A hippo sandwich is easy to make. All you do is simply take One slice of bread, One slice of cake, Some mayonnaise One onion ring, One hippopotamus One piece of string, A dash of pepper -- That ought to do it. And now comes the problem... Biting into it! -- Shel Silverstein

        (from 'Where the Sidewalk Ends')

The word that comes to mind when speaking of Silverstein is 'inimitable' -
his best poems have a *flavour* about them that is hard to define, but
unmistakably there.

Silverstein was, sadly, not a poet I was aware of as a child - I'd read the
occasional poem in anthologies (and, what's more, remembered them, so that
when I finally did discover his books I could point to the odd piece and say
'hey - I've seen that before'), but his name was lost among a bunch of other,
more-deservingly-forgotten poets. I'm glad to say that his poems lose very
little when read from an adult perspective, but I can't help but wonder how
much more magical they'd have been when I was part of the target audience.

Today's piece is pretty self-explanatory - but note the oh-so-innocent way
'one hippopotamus' is slipped into the ingredient list. And where but in a
child's universe would one slice of bread and one of cake make up a sandwich
recipe? :)

Biography:

  [broken link] http://www.geocities.com/SunsetStrip/Club/6166/ss/ssbio.html

Links:

An excellent Silverstein page is
  [broken link] http://falcon.jmu.edu/~ramseyil/silverstein.htmtin

And here's a great site devoted to all things hippopotamous:
  http://members.aol.com/HippoPage/table.htm

See particularly the poems section:
  http://members.aol.com/HippoPage/hipppoem.htm
(complete with unexpected entries by L. Sprague de Camp and Jane Yolen, and
illustrations for both yesterday's poem and today's)

And speaking of recipes, there's the ever-popular stuffed camel:
  http://home.tiac.net/~cri/1997/camel.html

-martin