Eletelephony

Because E is for Eletelephony, one of my favorite poems as a kid and an adult.

The photo is a page from a Childcraft book circa 1957. You’ll notice the illustration is by Walt Disney. Way before the Disney mega-entity is what is today.

Once there was an elelphant

Who tried to use the telelphant–

No! No! I mean an elelphone

Who tried to use the telephone–

(Dear me! I am not certain quite

That even now I’ve got it right.)

 

Howe’er it was, he got his trunk

Entangled in the telephunk;

The more the tried to get it free,

The louder bused the telephee–

(I fear I’d better drop the song

Of elehop and telephong!)

–Laura E. Richards

About the poet:
https://www.poetry4kids.com/news/laura-e-richards-the-first-american-childrens-nonsense-poet/

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A Poem A Day #6 The 37th Anniversary of My 21st birthday.

Please excuse this indulgent piece of my past. It makes me feel old to write it, but I am grateful. Not everyone in my high school class had made it this far.

Source: imgarcade

Source: imgarcade

Back In the Day (on the occasion of my 58th birthday)

Party line

Single ring for the other party, double ring for us.

Or was it the other way around?

I didn’t know who the other party was but I think I answered

Her phone for her once or twice.

Not much of a party, really.

Record players. (And records.)

Small—move the switch to 45

Medium—move the switch to 78

Large—move the switch to 33.

Little Toot gave way to American Pie.

The nuns called the record player a school the Victrola. Seriously.

 The TV lived in a piece of furniture.

Black and white, sometimes snowy.

Get up and change the channel for your dad, wouldja?

Turn the knob on the antenna box, wouldja?

You make a better door than a window.

Humph! The neighbors have a color TV.

Going to the movies was an event!

Driving downtown in the afternoon.

The red velvet ropes and red velvet seats—

Like Hollywood itself.

Snow White. The Jungle Book. The Sound of Music.

Larger than life stories I imagined myself in for weeks.

Flip up the lid of the brown box camera to view the scene.

Press a button and the flash kills your eyes.

Turn the knob to advance the film

Replace the flashbulb, but not until it cooled down.

Send the film away and wait and wait and wait.

Now, I take out my phone out of my pocket

And make a call

Listen to music

Watch a TV show

Watch a movie

Make a movie

Take a picture

Send it to someone

Send a message

Find out where I am and how to get there

Read a book

Write a book.

Look up when all this stuff was invented and what was the number one song on the day I was born. (Perry Como was my mom’s favorite crooner.)

Dang, I feel old.

A Poem A Day #5 85…90…95

85…90…95…

The snowbirds are roasting on the golfcourses

Featherless turkeys in the Sonoran sun

As cactus bloom from the precipitation

Of winter that wasn’t snow

With temperatures not 20 below.

 

The year rounders are waiting impatiently

Put upon hosts of unwelcome guests to

Pack their slow ass American gas guzzlers

And head back to Michigan

Wisconsin Minnesota Montana

And get the hell off our roads

And out of our spots in the parking lots

And our seats in the restaurants.

 

Bye-bye. See you never.

Sigh. Make that October

A Poem a Day #4 In the Wee Hours of Easter Morn

In the wee hours of Easter morn

The Moravian Trumpet Choir roved the town

Playing the horn

The trombone

The tuba

Christ the Lord is Risen Today Aaaa-aa-lay-lu-u-ya.

As welcome as the hyacinths and crocuses

And tulips and daffodils in my garden.

The desert has none of that.

Only the sun and the blue sky,

Almost as sure as

My risen savior.

A Poem a Day #3 Suffer the Little Children

I think this is something I’m going to be messing around with throughout the month because this is not the tone I want.

Suffer the Little Children

Jesus loves me this I know

For God so loved the world he sent his only begotten son

For the Bible tells me so.

All scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness

Red brown yellow black and white

Go ye therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost

They are precious in his sight

Fear ye not therefore, ye are of more value than many sparrows

Jesus loves the little children of the world.

Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not

Jesus_and_the_children

This is similar to a counted cross stitch piece I made when my daughter was a baby. Notice all the white kids. Someone didn’t get the red brown yellow black and white memo.

 

A Poem A Day # 2 One Year of CoCo La’Tay

#2   I feel childish writing a poem about my pup.

By Theresa Munroe 4/14

By Theresa Munroe 4/14

CoCo La'Tay the day we brought her home, about 8 weeks old.

DSCN1468

 

 

Poem A Day Challenge or NaPoWriMo

I started my “writing career” with NaNoWriMo in 2008. NaNoWriMo is an international event where people accept the challenge to write a novel of at least 50,000 words in the 30 days of November. I’ve written a rough draft of a novel every year since then.

Deciding I should experience different forms of writing instead of only multi-book sagas, I will endeavor to write one poem every day in April. There are various websites supporting this idea, but I think I’m going with NaPoWriMo.

I am not guaranteeing any type of quality. I’m not even going to be upset if I don’t get a poem out every day. And they sure as heck won’t rhyme of have any kind of standard form.

Here’s #1

#1

#1 T.A. Munroe 4/1/15

 

 

My challenge–expressive adjectives.

And I think I’ll have to use screen shots taken from Word because I can’t seem to get rid of the space between paragraph on WordPress, if that’s even possible.

Congratulations, Mrs. Munroe. It’s a Poet.

Without intending to, I gave birth to a poet or two. Of course, I wouldn’t have known how to go about creating a poet if I intended to.

Sarah is earning her MFA in Creative Writing and West Virginia University while working as a teaching assistant.

In honor of World Poetry Day, here are a few of Sarah’s poems I have access to online.

hands empty

By Sarah Munroe. All rights reserved.

sarah poem

By Sarah Munroe. All rights reserved.

My father leaves notes on napkins

By Sarah Munroe All rights reserved.

These from the former 3rd grader who rebelled against homeschool and wouldn’t write one paragraph about dolphins but as a 4th grader wrote a 16-page story for her public school teacher.

Sarah’s Tumblr blog is here. I think she gave up updating it when she met the love of her life and had other things to do. Plus, she’s not a huge fan of social media.

My son, Pete, is also a poet in the songwriting sense, even though he recently switched over to stand up comedy of the sort he doesn’t really want his parents to experience. Here’s his former band, Quatro Dedos for which he wrote most of the lyrics and did most of the lead vocals. Loud fast punk, not for the faint of heart.

quatro dedos cover

Quatro Dedos CD cover by Pete Munroe

My so-far unappreciated novels are not my only contribution to the literary world and the overall art production of the planet.

For things like World Caber Tossing day, however, I have nothing.