Phantom Tollbooth Poetry Connections from Inquiry Unlimited practitioner formerly sited at Boston KidWeb at Joseph Lee School, Boston, MA

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Poetry related to the Phantom Tollbooth *

Alphabet Protest by Calvin Miller

Have you heard that Congress might soon pass a law
that would change Ks to Bs and all Bs to Ks?
I’ll tell you, I'm strictly opposed to such laws.
That would change everything that we must write or say.
Why, if all Bs were Ks and all Ks were Bs,
the parrots would sleep in Kanana trees,
and we’d go to the zoo to see Bangaroos,
ZeKras and yaBs with spots on their noses
and Boala Kears and wild Kuffaloes.

If this Kill is passed, our Krains will be corB,
the Statue of LiKerty will be in New YorkB.
You'd better liBe eating your meals with a forB
and sandwiches made out of KarKeque porB.
Concerning vacations, I'll only say yucB!
Would you go to Disney to see Donald DucB
or Minnie or MicBie Mouse? What rotten LuckB!

This Kill would have mommies Biss KaKies goodnight
or rocB them in rocBing chairs till it was light.
Koys would sleep in KunB Keds in their Kedroom.
And Kig KlacB convertiKles sure would have headroom.
Do you see now why Congress must not pass this Kill?
ThinB of the poor souls who live in MilwauBee,
AlKuquerque or Bansas or those in BentuckBee.
You must write to Congress on Capitol Hill
and say, "Leave our letters alone, if you will.
All Ks must be Ks and Bs must be Bs.

We voters demand that you listen up, please . . .
No federal tamp’ring with our ABCs!"

Lansky, Bruce. A Bad Case of the Giggles: Kids' Favorite Funny Poems [J811BAD]
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The Alphabet Monster by Robert Heidbreder

I'm the Alphabet Monster
And nothing tastes better
To the Alphabet Monster
Than eating a letter.
A "j" and an "a"
And a "c" and a "k"
And the million more letters
I munch every day.

I'm hungry now.
What shall I do?
I think I'll eat
a "y"
an "o"
and a "u".

That means . . . YOU!

Bauer, Caroline. The Poetry Break: An Annotated Anthology with Ideas for Introducing Children to Poetry
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Verbs by Eleanor Farjeon

Nouns are the things I see and touch,
My Cake, my Mother, and my Ball;
I like some Nouns very much,
Though some I do no like at all.

Verbs are the things I do, and make,
And feel, in one way or another.
Thanks to Verbs, I eat my Cake,
And throw my Ball, and hug my Mother.

Yet Verbs, which make me laugh and play,
Can also make me cry and fall,
And tease my Mother every day,
And spoil my Cake, and lose my Ball!

Farjeon, Eleanor. Eleanor Farjeon's Poems for Children
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Where Do These Words Come From? by Charlotte Pomerantz

Hominy, succotash, raccoon, moose.
Succotash, raccoon, moose, papoose.
Raccoon, moose, papoose, squash, skunk.
Moose, papoose, squash, skunk, chipmunk.
Papoose, squash, skunk, chipmunk, muckamuck.
Skunk, chipmunk, muckamuck, woodchuck
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Spelling Bee by Cynthia Rylant

Best speller since third grade
that Beaver Elementary
had ever seen.
Could spell assassination
when I was nine.
When I was eleven
entered the
Big Spelling Bee.
Winning would mean
a try at the
county championship
and then - - the world.
Everyone knew I’d win.
But first, I had to
win at Beaver.
Nervous beyond words,
I was asked to spell
woke.
Sputtered W-O-A-K.
WOAK.
Knew I'd blown it,
just nervous,
but made them check a
dictionary, anyway,
to save myself some
dignity
and on the chance that
some stupid idiot
like me
had used it in a
spelling bee
and made it
a word.
It wasn't.

Bauer, Caroline. The Poetry Break: An Annotated Anthology with Ideas for Introducing Children to Poetry, 1995.
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Bumble Bee by Margaret Wise Brown

Black and yellow
Little fur bee
Buzzing away
In the timothy
Drowsy
Browsy
Lump of a bee
Rumbly
Tumbly
Bumbly bee.
Where are you taking
Your golden plunder
Humming along
Like baby thunder?
Over the clover
And over the hay
Then over the apple trees
Zoom away.
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Bee Song by Carl Sandburg

Bees in the late summer sun
Drone their song
Of yellow moons
Trimming black velvet,
Droning, droning a sleepysong.
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Table Manners by Gelett Burgess

The Goops they lick their fingers,

And the Goops they lick their knives;

They spill their broth on the table-cloth;

Oh, they live untidy lives.

The Goops they talk while eating,

And loud and fast they chew,

So that is why I am glad that I

Am not a Goop. Are you?

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How to Eat a Bag Lunch by Delia Ephron

Banana:
Remove Chiquita
sticker, slap your
friend's back, say, "Ho,
ho, ho," and leave
sticker stuck to shirt.

Cupcake:
Lick off frosting, being
careful to smear it
around mouth and on
chin. Do not eat the cupcake; crumble it.

Potato Chips:
Leaving out two kids
who are sitting at the
table, give one chip to
kids you like. Prefer to
eat chips with hardly
any brown in them.

Straw:
Shoot off paper, aiming
at the cafeteria
monitor.

Drumstick:
Brag about having fried
chicken. Say that you
had it last night for
dinner. Say that you
have fried chicken at
your house three times
a week, easy.

Announce your favorite
part. Wave the
drumstick while
chanting, "Roast
chicken, boo; fired
chicken, yay." Pick off
skin with fingers; then
consume.

Milk:
After spilling, throw
carton in garbage can
as if it were a
basketball. Then move
sideways on the bench,
shoving the person
next to you until the
kid at the other end
falls off.

Hard-Boiled Egg:
Do not eat, but leave
the peeled-off shell and
bare egg covered with
dirty fingerprints on
the cafeteria table.

Paper Bag:
Blow in air, hold
closed, and smash.
Spend the rest of lunch
sitting with the little
kids.
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Recipe by Joyce Armor

First you take a giant bowl
and put a waffle in it,
then you add a bunch of jam
and stir it for a minute.

After that you get a cup
and fill it up with custard,
then dump it in with mushroom soup
and just a little mustard.

Squeeze a lemon right on top,
add peanut butter - - oodles,
but don't forget the applesauce
and two big scoops of noodles.

Then nuke it in the microwave.
That's it, you've got a winner.
Get the plates out now and yell,
"Come and get it! Dinner!"
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The Court Jester's Last Report to the King by Jack Prelutsky

Oh sire! My Sire! your castle's on fire,
I fear it's about to explode,
a hideous lizard has eaten the wizard,
the prince has turned into a toad.

Oh sire! Good sire! there's woe in the shire,
fierce trolls are arriving in force,
there are pirates in port, monstrous ogres at court,
and a dragon has melted your horse.

Oh sire! Great sire! the tidings are dire,
a giant has trampled the school,
your army has fled, there are bees in your bed
and your nose has come off . . APRIL FOOL!

Bauer, Caroline. The Poetry Break: An Annotated Anthology with Ideas for Introducing Children to Poetry
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I'm an Ant by Pam Brewstser

I'm an ant
and a gi-ant.
I'm a gi-ant
to an ant,
but I'm an ant
to a gi-ant.

Bauer, Caroline. The Poetry Break: An Annotated Anthology with Ideas for Introducing Children to Poetry
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Wake Up by Zaro Weil

Wake up

Morning
Has
Galloped
Bareback
All night to
Get here
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What is Pink? by Christina Rossetti

What is pink? A rose is pink
By the fountain's brink.
What is red? A poppy's red
In its barley bed.
What is blue? The sky is blue
Where the clouds float through.
What is white? A swan is white
Sailing in the light.
What is yellow? Pears are yellow
Rich and ripe and mellow.
What is green? The grass is green,
With small flowers between.
What is violet? Clouds are violet
In the summer twilight.
What is orange? Why, an orange,
Just an orange!

Corrin, Sara and Stephen. Once Upon a Rhyme: 101 Poems for Young Children [J821On]
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What is Red? by Mary O'Neill

Red is a sunset
Blazing and bright.
Red is feeling brave
With all your might.
Red is a sunburn
Spot on your nose,
Sometimes red
Is a red red rose.
Red squiggles out
When you cut your hand.
Red is a brick
And the sound of a band.
Red is hotness
You get inside
When you're embarrassed
And want to hide.
Fire-cracker, fire-engine
Fire-flicker red - -
And when you're angry
Red runs through your head.
Red is an Indian,
A Valentine heart,
The trimmings on
A circus cart.
Red is a lipstick
Red is a shout
Red is a signal
That says: "Watch out!"
Red is a great big
Rubber ball.
Red is the giant-est
Colour of all.
Red is a show-off,
No doubt about it.
But can you imagine
Living without it?

Foster, John. A First Poetry Book [J821Fir]
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The Color-Eater by Constance Levy

Sunset mixed this recipe:
Orange and grape and raspberry.
Folded in and spread between
Lemonade and nectarine.
Too, too tempting
Don't you think
All that orange and
All that pink,
All that purple,
All that yellow?
Who could blame
The hungry fellow?
Night came sniffling
Like a pup;
Licked it
Like it
Lapped it up!
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Numbers by Eleanor Farjeon

There are hundreds of Numbers. They mount up so high,
That if you could count every star in the sky
From the Tail of the Bear to the Waterman's Hat,
There still would be even more Numbers than that!

There are thousands of Numbers. So many there be,
That if you could count every drop in the sea
From the Mexican Gulf to the Lincolnshire Flat,
There still would be even more Numbers than that!

There are millions of Numbers. So many to spare,
That if you could count every insect in air,
The moth, the mosquito, the bee and the gnat,
There still would be even more Numbers than that!

There's no end to Numbers! But don't be afraid!
There only are ten out of which they are made,
Learn from Nought up to Nine, and the rest will come pat,
For the numbers of Numbers all come out of that!

Farjeon, Eleanor. Eleanor Farjeon's Poems for Children
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How to Tell the Top of a Hill by John Ciardi

The top of a hill
Is not until
The bottom is below.
And you have to stop
When you reach the top
For there's not more UP to go.

To make it plain
Let me explain:
The one most reason why
You have to stop
When you reach the top - - is:
The next step up is sky.
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No Difference by Shel Silverstein

Small as a peanut
Big as a giant,
We're all the same size
When we turn off the light.
Rich as a sultan,
Poor as a mite,
We're all worth the same
When we turn off the light.

Red, black or orange,
Yellow or white,
We all look the same
When we turn off the light.

So maybe the way
To make everything right
Is for God to just reach out
And turn off the light!

Bauer, Caroline. The Poetry Break: An Annotated Anthology with Ideas for Introducing Children to Poetry
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Hurry Home by Leonard Clark

You had better hurry home for your supper's nearly ready,
Your mother's in the kitchen and she's awfully wild,
She's been shouting at the cat, and she keeps on saying,
"O where has he got to, the wretched child?"

She has been to the front door and looked through the window, And now she's banging on the frying pan,
The plates and the dishes are all on the table,
So run, my boy, as fast as you can.
Don't you know she's cooking your favourite supper,
Potatoes in their jackets and beefsteak pie?
She's made a jug of custard for the pudding in the oven,
Get a move on, Joe, the stars are in the sky.
They've all left the factory, the streets will soon be empty,
No more playing now, it's time you fed,
It really is a shame to keep your mother waiting,
So come have your supper, and then off to bed.

Foster, John. A First Poetry Book [J821Fir]
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There Isn't Time! by Eleanor Farjeon

There isn't time, there isn't time
To do the things I want to do,
With all the mountain-tops to climb,
And all the woods to wander through,
And all the seas to sail upon,
And everywhere there is to go,
And all the people, every one
Who lives upon the earth, to know.
There's only time, there's only time
To know a few, and do a few,
And then sit down and make a rhyme
About the rest I want to do.

Farjeon, Eleanor. Eleanor Farjeon's Poems for Children
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Going Into the Dream by Eleanor Farjeon

Where are you going, child, so far away?
Where you cannot follow to watch me at my play,
Light as a fallen feather floating on the stream
I'm going, going, back into the dream.

What will you find there, child, what will you do?
Something that I cannot ever tell to you,
Quiet as a moth flies across the candle-beam
I'm going, going back into the dream.

Farjeon, Eleanor. Eleanor Farjeon's Poems for Children

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