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Chocolate Chips & Rocket Ships
99 1/2 Poems in 100 days
All poems by John O’Marra
All contents copyright 2012 Ponkonio Press LLC
Illustrations by 100 illustrators, from the genres of comic books, rock posters, children’s books, fine art, and more. One new poem a day on both Kickstarter.com and ChocolateChipsAndRocketShips.com, from now until September 10, 2012. Deluxe hardcover 8 ½ x 11 book, 220+ pages coming this November. PLEASE visit Kickstarter and preorder the book! It will be $35 retail, special Kickstarter price is $25, shipping included. We can’t make this happen unless we hit our goal on Kickstarter. We have until July 4, 2012. So please visit, preorder the book, and help spread the word! CCRS on Kickstarter.com firstname.lastname@example.org
1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. Shoes, illustrated by David Wenzel Paper Tiger, illustrated by Wylie Elise Beckert A Pirate’s Job Interview, illustrated by Shawn McManus Nightwalk, illustrated by Yoshi Yoshitani Banana Dan’s, illustrated by Kristin Abbott Blocks, illustrated by Tim Probert Baddie Bags, illustrated by Mizna Wada The Prince’s Lament, illustrated by Adam Hunter Peck T, illustrated by Nicole Allin What’s in the Bag? illustrated by Matthew Meyer Bugs, illustrated by Catlin Haimerl Stay, illustrated by Courtney Martin Melee, illustrated by Kai Carpenter Princesses, illustrated by Lia Marcoux The Pugnacious Crustacean, illustrated by Ole Tillman Poetic License, illustrated by Tom Brown Words, illustrated by Nicole Gustafsson A Toast, illustrated by Mike Maihack Nada, illustrated by Darrin Brenner Switcheroo Tattoos, illustrated by Wes Freed Oklahoma, illustrated by Starr Hardridge Best Left Unsolved, illustrated by Michael Lauritano
I’m a traveling shoe salesman, Done it for a long, long time. I sold boots to Bigfoot, And his size is hard to find. Green felt slippers for leprechauns, Fairies love ‘em with bells. Trolls buy dirty, stinky clogs, The worst you ever smelled. Elves and gnomes and wizards, too, You know I’ve sold my share. But my biggest regret, So many mermaids I’ve met, Yet I’ve never sold any a pair.
A paperboy, And a paper doll, Were shufflin’ down Paper Lane, When out pounced a paper tiger, Faster than a paper plane. So that began a paper chase, Tiger hot on their paper trail, ‘Til the girl spun ‘round With a paper shredder, And paper-cut Tiger’s tail. The cat fought back but the pair held steady, And soon that Tiger was confetti. So what’s the moral of this caper? Just that scissors always beats paper.
A Pirate's Job Interview
Date of birth? That’s a stumper, I never knew my kin. Education? That’s an easy one, Ten years ‘prentice with Cap’n Quinn. Hobbies? I like fightin’, And drinkin’ and fightin’, too. Special skills? I do speak Spanish, But only to say “Gimmee yer jewels.” Retail experience? I know a thing or two about sails. International Travel? In seven countries, I’ve seen the jails. Social Security Number? It’s tattooed on me somewhere... Oh, and what about lunch breaks? Is there grog or rum to share? Applying for a job away from the sea, What a very sad occurrence. But with my peg leg, Scurvy, And sailor’s knee, I need the Health Insurance.
I love to stroll the neighborhood, But this heat sure makes me balk, So wait ‘til it’s late, And come with me, Let’s go for a nighttime walk. Summer seems softer when the sun goes down, Under a Moonshadow glow — Luna moths dance ‘neath streetlamps, Fireflies flash “Hello!” Winds blow strange past midnight, (Missed by all the sleepers), Listen to the coyotes, Singin’ with the peepers. This night is ripe for mischief, No one is on guard, Let’s rearrange the leprechauns On the Limerick’s front yard. We’ve got the streets all to ourselves, So lovely I could clap. Let’s walk all night, Til’ the sun comes up, Then take a daytime nap.
When you visit sunny Havana, Make a plan to buy a bandana, At Banana Dan’s Bandana Cabana, Right next door to the Copacabana, The best in the lanna, give ‘em a hanna! But when you’re in Savannah, And crave a banana, Go to Bandana Sam’s Banana Stanna. Loved by every woman and manna, A favorite of Anna and Vanna and Granna, The best banana, But no bandana. For a bandana, your best bet is still Banana Dan’s Bandana Cabana.
I’m building the world’s biggest block tower – It soars high into the sky, Can’t remember the last time I took a shower, I’m such a stackin’ guy! It’s super-duper-super tall, And listen up, here’s the kicker — I’m goin’ fifteen miles high, I’ve got Daddy’s cherry picker! Block on block on block on block, Until it’s a record, I won’t stop. The all-time champ is a million blocks, Built by Boston Bobby Clover. But I can beat that, Just a few blocks more… BABY BROTHER, YOU KNOCKED ‘EM ALL OVER!!
Mom made goodie bags for the party, But my friends had me seein’ red, So I got rid of all the goodies, And made baddie bags instead. Cat poop ‘stead of Tootsie Rolls, Crunchy scabs and green tadpoles, Greasy hair from Daddy’s back, All stuffed into a diaper sack! My friends are gonna’ be so mad, They’re gonna’ scream and curse, So I’ll make sure they get their baddie bags last, And I get my presents first.
The Prince’s Lament
Dad says no allowance, Until I do my chores, But it’s an awfully long list, And all of them a bore. I start with a sweep of the dungeon, Then feed a pair of pigs to the dragon. Polish all the armor, Then repair the Wizard’s wagon. Groom the Unicorn, Dredge the moat, Light torches in the halls, Hone the blades, Dust the throne, And find the jester’s balls. I’m tired of kegs and turkey legs, It’s all such a terrible hassle. I wish we lived in a regular house, Instead of this old cold castle.
I thought I was invited to a tea party, I knew it would be a bore. But I had a totally terrific time, Let me tell you more! There were toads on turtles on trampolines, And tons of tiramisu. Trains and trucks and other toys, And even a T-Rex or two. So clearly it was a T party, And certainly a dandy, I hope next I’m invited to a C party, ‘cuz I sure love cotton candy.
What’s in the Bag?
Old lady Garrity Was walking her dog one night, When a bad guy ran up and stole her bag, And dashed right out of sight. “That’s okay,” Mrs. Garrity said, “Live and let live. That bag was filled with my doggie’s poop, And I wish I had more to give!”
I felt so weird at lunch today – I started craving bugs! That’s not like me, Normally, It’s PB&J or Chicken Nugs. I started off with a couple of ants – Best thing I ever tasted! So next I ate a ladybug, Some grasshoppers And an aphid. I gobbled fleas and beetles, And possibly a tick. Even a furry, fuzzy one, Crawlin’ up a stick. Why do I keep eating bugs? It’s really quite absurd. But it all made sense, When I looked in the mirror – I had turned into a bird!
My dog is oh-so-well behaved, He’ll stay for a long, long while. He never bites, He never snarls, He always has a smile. He doesn’t tear up papers, He doesn’t jump and crush, Guaranteed, My favorite breed, Is a doggy who is plush.
There’s Robots in the castle, They must have swam the moat. How’d they get past the pirates, On their U.S. Navy boat? Vikings ride lobsters, Romans fight mobsters, And King Tut parachutes. Historical accuracy at playtime? Not my strongest suit.
Penny’s dressed like a princess. Sophie and Ella too. Madeline and Gwendolyn, Each in dresses of blue. Katrina and Tina, Also Georgina, Marina, Ruthie and Jane. Princess Molly And Princess Polly And Princess what’s her name? They all want to be a princess, But to me it’s kind of a joke. How can everyone be royalty, When there ain’t no common folk?
The Pugnacious Crustacean
Ya’ picked the wrong lobster to mess with, I’ll tear ya’ limb from limb! I’ll mangle your mouth, Pinch your neck, And bite ya’ in the chin! I’m gonna wipe out the whole lotta’ ya’, I’ll crush ya’ like a clam – But first, C’mere a minute, And cut off these rubber bands!
I went to get my poetic license, The counter guy said “Can you rhyme?” I said “Does it have to be a good one?” He said “No.” I said “Fine.” So he made me a legitimate poet, And I’ll tell ya’, I was stoked. So let me stop right there, With a rock-solid rhyme, Before my poetic license gets revoked.
I tried to read to my sister, But I didn’t know the words, So I just showed her the pictures, And made up what occurred. Hello, Mr. Happy Squirrel! (He’s the secret King of the World.) A sailor with a salty oyster – Beware the poison pearl! A puppy and a kitty, playin’ by a tree – Listen, sis, they’re robots, You just take it from me. My sister smiled and cooed and laughed At the tales I created. I guess if you make up your own stories, Then reading’s over-rated.
I would like to propose a toast! To all the bread we love the most! Whole Wheat, Can’t be beat! Go Go, Sourdough! Plain White, Aw’right! Caraway, Ya’ make my day! Rye, Rye, Aye, aye! Challah, Sprouted, Hollah’, Touted! My yeasty friends, Our visit ends, Hope I’ve been a good hoster. Now climb right up and hop on in – Welcome to my toaster!
My friend Suzie got nothin’, So of course I wanted none too. I said “Suzie can I have none please?” She said “I ain’t got nothin’ for you!” Thank you Suzie, thank you, For bein’ kind-hearted and fair. When a whole lotta’ nothin’ is all ya’ got, It takes a lot to share.
Ya know I love to fool my friends, And prank ‘em right outta their shoes, Well, the prankiest prank that I ever did prank Was Switcheroo Tattoos. “Hey, Sophie, here’s a butterfly, Let’s stick it on your arm, A heart for Hailey, A pirate for Pete, What could be the harm?” So they lick ‘em and stick ‘em and peel ‘em, And then comes the bad surprise – On their arm, the unexpected; Rats and Turds and Flies! Some kids yell and some kids cry And they all try to wipe ‘em away, Sorry, kids, those tats will last For six months to the day. So whatchya see ain’t whatchya get, With Switcheroo Tattoo – That’s why, to wit, Both fig. and lit., The joke’s on you!
Look at me on my surfboard, Zippin’ through the air. My legs are bent, My arms are spread, Wind blowin’ through my hair. I’m the master of motion, A surfin’ superstar. But I’m five hundred miles from the ocean, On a board on the roof of Mom’s car.
Best Left Unsolved
The greatest mystery, In the history of mysteries? The Mystery of the Missing Mystery. Who took it? Heaven knows. How’d they do it? One can only suppose. As for why, As well to ask, Why the river flows. When did it happen? In the long agos. Where, oh where? So far beyond the snows. What did they do, exactly? That too, We still must pose. So it’s true we don’t know Who, Or What, Or Where, Or Why, Or How, Or even When, But keep your eyes wide open, friend, In case they try to do it again!
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