My Rules

If you want to marry me, here's what you'll have to do:
You must learn how to make a perfect chicken-dumpling stew.
And you must sew my holey socks,
And soothe my troubled mind,
And develop the knack for scratching my back,
And keep my shoes spotlessly shined.
And while I rest you must rake up the leaves,
And when it is hailing and snowing
You must shovel the walk... and be still when I talk,
And -- hey -- where are you going?

poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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The Loser

Mama said I'd lose my head
if it wasn't fastened on.
Today I guess it wasn't
'cause while playing with my cousin
it fell off and rolled away
and now it's gone.

And I can't look for it
'cause my eyes are in it,
and I can't call to it
'cause my mouth is on it
(couldn't hear me anyway
'cause my ears are on it),
can't even think about it
'cause my brain is in it.
So I guess I'll sit down
on this rock
and rest for just a minute...

poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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The Monkey

1 little monkey
was goin' 2 the store
when he saw a banana 3
he'd never climbed be4.
By 5 o'clock that evenin'
he was 6 with a stomach ache
'cause 7 green bananas
was what that monkey 8.

By 9 o'clock that evenin'
that monkey was quite ill,
so 10 we called the doctor
who was 11 on the hill.
The doctor said, 'You're almost dead.
Don't eat green bananas no more.'
The sick little monkey groaned and said,
'But that's what I 1-2 the 3-4.'

poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Loser

Mama said I'd lose my head
If it wasn't fastened on.
Today I guess it wasn't
'Cause while playing with my cousin
It fell off and rolled away
And now its gone.

And I can't look for it
'Cause my eyes are in it,
And I can't call to it
'Cause my mouth is on it
(Couldn't hear me anyway
'Cause my ears are on it),
Can't even think about it
'Cause my brain is in it.
So I guess I'll sit down
On this rock
And rest for just a minute…

poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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The Dragon Of Grindly Grun

I'm the Dragon of Grindly Grun,
I breathe fire as hot as the sun.
When a knight comes to fight
I just toast him on sight,
Like a hot crispy cinnamon bun.

When I see a fair damsel go by,
I just sigh a fiery sigh,
And she'd baked like a 'tater-
I think of her later
With a romantic tear in my eye.

I'm the Dragon of Grindly Grun,
But my lunches aren't very much fun,
For I like my damsels medium rare,
and they always come out well done.

poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Tryin' On Clothes

I tried on the farmer's hat,
Didn't fit…
A little too small - just a bit
Too floppy.
Couldn't get used to it,
Took it off.
I tried on the dancer's shoes,
A little too loose.
Not the kind you could use
for walkin'.
Didn't feel right in 'em,
Kicked 'em off.

I tried on the summer sun,
Felt good.
Nice and warm - knew it would.
Tried the grass beneath bare feet,
Felt neat.
Finally, finally felt well dressed,
Nature's clothes fit me best.

poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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The Meehoo With An Exactlywatt

Knock knock!
Who's there?
Me!
Me who?

That's right!
What's right?
Meehoo!
That's what I want to know!

What's what you want to know?
Me, who?
Yes, exactly!
Exactly what?
Yes, I have an Exactlywatt on a chain!

Exactly what on a chain?

[...] Read more

poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Ations

If we meet and I say, 'Hi,'
That's a salutation.
If you ask me how I feel,
That's a consideration.
If we stop and talk a while,
That's a conversation.
If we understand each other,
That's a communication.
If we argue, scream and fight,
That's an altercation.
If later we apoligize,
That's reconciliation.
If we help each other home,
That's a cooperation.
And all these actions added up
Make Civilization.
(And if I say this is a wonderful poem,
Is that exaggeration?)

poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Who does she think she is....

I asked the Zebra:

Are you black with white stripes?
Or white with black stripes?

And the zebra asked me:

Are you good with bad habits?
Or are you bad with good habits?
Are you noisy with quiet times?
Or are you quiet with noisy times?
Are you happy with some sad days?
Or are you sad with some happy days?
Are you neat with some sloppy ways?
Or are you sloppy with some neat ways?

And on and on and on and on
And on and on he went.

I’ll never ask a zebra

[...] Read more

poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Morgan’s Curse

Followin’ the trail on the old treasure map,
I came to the spot that said “Dig right here.”
And four feet down my spade struck wood
Just where the map said a chest would appear.
But carved in the side were written these words:
“A curse upon he who disturbs this gold.”
Signed, Morgan the Pirate, Scourge of the Seas.
I read these words and my blood ran cold.
So here I sit upon untold wealth
Tryin’ to figure which is worse:
How much do I need this gold?
And how much do I need this curse?

poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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