Sunday, January 1, 2012

The Schnob Comes Out at Night

My family's chock full of poets. Or it once was, at least. Here are some amusing examples (forgive me, siblings).

1. I'll start with my own poetry. Yes, I'd written little picture and comic books in abundance, but I believe this was my first poetic endeavor. I think I was eleven or twelve.

Have you ever, ever, ever
Thought about thought?
Certainly complicated...
And, then again, not.

For when you think, it's actually a thought
Of thinking of thought
But thinking you're not

Your mind's all a-gaggle,
Your logic's a twist
Thought in your mind
As confusing as this.

Thoughts of thought overlap
Over thoughts of think
And think is placed higher
So thoughts of thought sink.

So if you ever
Sit down for a thought
Remember your think
Is sometimes what it's not.

2. My older brother wrote poems more than I did as a kid (which isn't saying much), but would likely be very unhappy if I post any. However, he also made up songs that we, his eager younger siblings, gobbled up and adopted as unofficial family anthems. This one is one that he used to keep our youngest brother from getting out of bed at night.

The schnob comes out at night,
The schnob comes out at night!
The schob is just a butterfly
Or a lava lamp.
But in the dark of night,
When you are fast asleep,
The schnob will creep into your room and turn into a ROCK!

You'd think it'd keep him up, but as long as he was afraid to leave his bed, he'd eventually drop off to sleep. Much dispute has been had over whether the final threat was a 'rock,' as in a stone, or a 'roc,' the mythical bird known to eat elephants. But since both terrified our impressionable brother back then, I suppose clarification never mattered.

3. My slightly older younger brother (concealing actual identities doesn't make for a very smooth read) wrote a book of poetry as well, which he even submitted to a News Gazzette contest and read for a school talent show as a lad. His initial poem in the book was the following.

I'm a poet and I didn't know it.
To prove this beautiful work,
I must show it.
FYI--I will not blow it.

And this one continues to write like the bones, though his literary prowess has been concentrated specifically on songwriting.

4. Although my sister has not produced written poetry in my memory, I know she has a logophile in her. Yesterday, while Pink Floyd's "Another Brick in the Wall: Part 2 (We Don't Need No Education)" blared in the kitchen, my sister said, "They say, 'leave them kids alone,' not 'those,' so actually, they do need education." A girl after my own heart.

No comments:

Post a Comment