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Old 08-02-2006, 08:28 PM   #1
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Thumbs up Shel Silverstein

I have Where the Sidewalk Ends and Falling Up.

These are GREAT books. He writes the most creative and fun poetry I have ever read. Plains post about his song is what made me think of this. I can sit and read his books from beginning to end without stopping.

Kids just love his poetry!! Adults too
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Old 08-02-2006, 08:58 PM   #2
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Yep, I bought "The Giving Tree" when my oldest was just a pup.

The way he writes captures the young'uns attention (same could be said for Seuss, but in a different style all-together) and the meaning of the story is perfect for kids.

But my favorite work of his is still "the smoke off".
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Old 08-02-2006, 09:54 PM   #3
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Ohh...my all time favorite has to be "Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout would not take the garbage out". I loved his stuff when I was little!! Maybe I'll just take atrip to the library and check some out.
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Old 08-02-2006, 09:59 PM   #4
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Cool Long ago in Playboy....

" I Stepped In Dog Shit" I think was the title of the poem, and the other was something about a guy that had two shlongs....

Silverstein cracks me up, too.....


Some Where In Ded Land............
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Old 08-02-2006, 10:15 PM   #5
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Default Sick by Shel Silverstein

This is my favorite it is from Where the SideWalk Ends.

Quote:
I cannot go to school today
Said little Peggy Ann McKay.
I have the measles and the mumps,
a gash, a rash and purple bumps.
My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,
I'm going blind in my right eye.
My tonsils are as big as rocks,
I've counted sixteen chicken pox
And there's one more--that makes seventeen.
And don't you think my face looks green?
My leg is cut, my eyes are blue--
It might be instamatic flu.
I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,
I'm sure that my left leg is broke--
my hip hurts when I move my chin,
my belly button's caving in,
My back is wrenched, my ankle's sprained,
my 'pendix pains each time it rains.
My nose is cold, my toes are numb,
I have a sliver in my thumb.
My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,
I hardly whisper when I speak.
My tongue is filling up my mouth,
I think my hair is falling out.
My elbow's bent, my spine ain't straight,
My temperature is one-o-eight.
My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,
there is a hold inside my ear.
I have a hangnail, and my heart is--what?
What's that? What's that you say?
You say today is... Saturday?
G'bye, I'm going out to play!!!
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Old 08-06-2006, 10:03 AM   #6
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His books are fantastic because they're just as entertaining to read as "adults" (who really ever grows up?) as they were when you were kids. They really are timeless.
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Old 10-05-2006, 02:33 AM   #7
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I love Silverstein! My favorite out of Where the Sidewalk Ends:

Tree House-

A tree house, a free house,
A secret you and me house,
A high up in the leafy branches
Cozy as can be house.

A street house, a neat house,
Be sure and wipe your feet house
Is not my kind of house at all -
Let's go live in a tree house.
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Old 10-06-2006, 01:49 PM   #8
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I knew Shell was a Stoner!! Yippee!!!

Quote:
In the laid-back California town of sunny San Rafael
Lived a girl named Pearlie Sweetcake (you probably knew her well).
She was stoned 15 of her 18 years and a story was widely told
How she could smoke 'em faster than anyone could roll.

Well, her legend finally reached New York, that Grove Street walk-up flat
Where dwelt the Conestoga Kid, a beatnik from the past.
He'd been rolling dope since time began - now he took a cultured toke -
And said, "I can roll 'em faster than any chick can smoke."

So a note gets sent to San Rafael for the championship of the world.
The Kid demands a smoke-off ! "Well bring him on !" says Pearl.
"I'll grind his fingers off his hands. He'll roll until he drops."
Says Conestog, "I'll smoke that chick 'til she blows up and pops."

So they rent out Yankee Stadium and the word is quickly spread,
"Come one, come all, who walk or crawl - tickets just two lids a head."
And from every town and hamlet over land and sea they speed -
The world's greatest dopers with the world's greatest weed.

Hashish from Morocco, hemp smokers from Peru,
And the shashniks from Bagoon who smoke the deadly pugaru,
And those who call it "Light of Life" and those who call it "Boo".

See the dealers and their ladies wearing turquoise, lace, and leather.
See the narcos and the closet smokers puffing all together.
From the teenies who smoke legal to the ones who've done some time
To the old man who smoked "reefer" back before it was a crime.

And the grand old house that Ruth built is filled with the smoke and cries
Of 50,000 screaming heads all stoned out of their minds.
And they play the national anthem and the crowd lets out a roar
And the spotlight hits the Kid and Pearl - ready for their smoking war.

At a table piled up high with grass as high as a mountain peak,
Just tops and brims of the rarest flowers - not one stem, branch, or seed.
I mean Maui Wowee, Panama Red, Acapulco Gold,
Kheef from east Afghanistan and that rare Alaska Cold.

And there's sticks from Thailand, gange from the island, and Bangkok's blooming best
And some of that wet imported shit that capsized off Key West.
There's walking tops and Kenya bhang and Riviera fleurs
And that rare Manhattan Silver that grows in the New York sewers.

And there's bubbling ice-cold lemonade and sweet grapes by the bunches
And there's Hershey bars and Oreos in case anybody gets the munchies.
And the Conestoga Kid, he smiles, and Pearlie, she just grins,
And the drums roll low, and the crowd yells "GO !!"
And the world's first smoke-off begins.

Well the Kid, he flicks his fingers once and zap! - that first joint's rolled!
Pearl takes one toke with her famous lungs and whoosh! - that roach is cold.
Then the Kid, he rolls his super-bomb that would paralyze a moose,
And Pearl, she takes one mighty hit and whoosh! - that bomb's defused.

Then he rolls three in just ten seconds and she smokes them up in nine
And everybody sits back and says, "Hey, this might take some time."

See the blur of flying fingers, see the red coals burning bright,
As the night fades into morning and the morning fades to night
And the autumn turns to summer and a whole damn year is gone
And the two still sit on that roach-filled stage, smoking and rolling on.

With trembling hands he rolls his jades, with fingers blue and stiff
She coughs and stares with bloodshot gaze and puffs through blistered lips.
And as she reaches out her hand for another stick of gold,
The kid, he gasps, "Dammit, bitch ! There's nothing left to roll !"

"Nothing left to roll?" screams Pearl. "Is this some twisted joke?
"I didn't come here to fuck around ! Man, I come here to SMOKE !"

And she reaches 'cross the table and grabs his bony sleeves
And crumbles his body between her hands like dried and brittle leaves,
A-flicking out his teeth and bones like useless stems and seeds.
Then she rolls him in a Zig-Zag and lights him like a roach,
And the fastest man with the fastest hands goes up in a puff of smoke.

In the laid-back California town of sunny San Rafael
Lives a girl named Pearlie Sweetcake. You probably know her well.
She's been stoned 21 of her 24 years and the story is still widely told
How she can smoke 'em faster than any dude can roll.

While off in New York City on a street that has no name
There's the hands of the Conestoga Kid in the viper hall of fame.
And underneath his fingers there's a little golden scroll
That says, "Beware of being the roller when there's nothing left to roll."

- Shel Silverstein "The Great Smoke-Off
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Old 10-06-2006, 05:18 PM   #9
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That last one was the best!!! I only have a light in the attic. I need to get more of his books. What book was that last one from IAMSKFAN?
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Old 10-06-2006, 06:19 PM   #10
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That's not in any of his books (can you imagine that being in a children's poetry book? ). It's a song off of one of his cds. Also check out "I Got Stoned and I Missed it", another good song by him, though not nearly as awesome as "The Smoke-Off".
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