A PHONELESS LAMENT

Oh, my poor little heart
would go flutter-flitter
if only someone could send me
a text or a twitter.

The other girls are so happy
with their little phones so cute
while I’m a social outcast
because I’m phoneless and mute!

I’m like a dog without a bone–
like a queen without a throne–
all because you’re so STUBBORN
and won’t buy me a phone!

It’ll be all your fault
when I’m sad and alone–
a spinster forever
because I have no telephone!

Written by Marcia Schwartz.

Illustrated by Rachael Novak.

This illustrated poem was created for Project OpenBook, an experiment in doing good.

To learn more and follow the journey, visit:
marblespark.com/project-openbook

This poem is for Project OpenBook, a community-built children’s book. Details below.

I have a name no one can say;
The spelling is in disarray,
The vowels tend to go astray,
The consonants make spittle spray.

My parents didn’t try, per se,
To make it easy to mis-say,
They only wanted to convey
That I was special, cool–outré.

And that desire made them mislay
Their sanity (a face that they
Don’t even dare try to downplay,
And one that causes me dismay.)

And so this name no one can say
Has cursed me to this very day–
What did you ask? My name, you say?
What is this name no one can say?

It doesn’t matter anyway–
Everybody calls me Joe.

Written by Karen Bjork Kubin.

Project OpenBook is a community-built children’s book.

I don’t need to blow my snout.
I use my finger to get ’em out.
Mom says I’m spreading germs,
But I don’t like her cleaning terms.
My own body is just fine;
I’m so clean, I swear I shine…
Here is where I have my doubts:
It’s everybody else I worry ’bout.

.

Written by Jaime Kubik.

Illustrated by Ann Troe.

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This illustrated poem was created for Project OpenBook, an experiment in doing good.

To learn more and follow the journey, visit:
marblespark.com/project-openbook

I want to play the piccolo;
You can have the flute–
‘Cause when it comes to making noise
The piccolo’s quite astute.

I want to play the piccolo;
Forget about the drum–
Piccolo’s the instrument
For making eardrums numb.

The trumpet has its followers,
The trombone does okay,
But the piccolo has got a sound
That blasts them both away.

I want to play an instrument
That cuts through all the rest,
I want to give each piece I play
My ear-split-ting-est best.

I love its penetrating sound,
I relish how it shrieks,
I adore its strident, treble voice,
Its lovely, high-pitched screech.

I want to play the piccolo,
So you can keep the flute.
I like a sound that really hurts–
Besides, it’s kind of cute!

Written by Karen Bjork Kubin.

Illustrated by Courtney Pippin-Mathur.

This illustrated poem was created for Project OpenBook, an experiment in doing good.

To learn more and follow the journey, visit:
marblespark.com/project-openbook