Gruesome

[baratron]

When you see this entry, post a poem you like, etc etc (assuming you weren't one of the people whose poem inspired me to post this).

This is a poem I found in a book when I was a child. Not sure I've got the wording 100% correct, but I have no idea what book it was from. I also have no idea who the author is, because Google doesn't seem to have heard of it (!). Does anyone know?

I was sitting in the sitting room
Toying with some toys
When from a door marked "Gruesome"
There came a gruesome noise

Went to the door and opened it
and there to my surprise
There sat a little grue
with tears in its eyes

"Oh little grue", I said to him
"Tell me what ails thee so?"
"It's my height", sobbed the little grue
"I really want to grow!"

"Exercises are the answer
Every day you must do some"
He smiled and thanked me, and do you know what?
The very next day he grew some!

The other poem I know off by heart is the Ning Nang Nong by Spike Milligan, but Google has heard of that :)

Comments

[ludy]

It's either Michel Rosen or Roger Magough (not sure about spellings)and i think it's from a book called "You Tell Me" which i remember Micheal Rosen reading from at a Puffin Club exhibtion (is it sad that i remember that?)

[baratron.livejournal.com]

No, that's the sort of thing (bizarre small detail) I remember too.

I didn't read the poem in a book of poems - it was in a book of "things to do when you're bored" and given as an example of how to write a poem. I think it was suggesting that even if you couldn't think of anything to write about, you could use puns for inspiration. There was another poem in there which went:

Two          People
play         ing
ten          nis
When         the
ball         stops
the          net
will         still
be           be
tween        them

which I imagine would drive your dyslexia/NLD nuts, but the idea is the text skipping backwards and forwards is supposed to symbolise the way the ball goes back and forward across the net in tennis. Of course, when I read this I was at the age when I'd never seen anyone playing tennis properly (it was a sport!) so it didn't make much sense with me until I was a lot older, by which time I'd long since lost the book.

This Be The Verse

[ceno.livejournal.com]

They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.

But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another's throats.

Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don't have any kids yourself.

Philip Larkin. Ahem :)

[(Anonymous)]

Hey, I stumbled across this when searching for that poem myself. Don't suppose you ever found out where it came from. I remember it slightly differently. Our version went like this:

I was sitting in the sitting room,
Toying with some toys
When from a door marked "Gruesome"
There came a gruesome noise

Cautiously I opened it
And there to my surprise
A little grue was sitting
With tears in his eyes

"Oh little Grue," I said to him
"What is it ails thee so?"
"Well I'm so small" he sobbed
"Gruesses don't want to know"

"Exercises are the answer
Each morning you must do some."
He thanked me, smiled and do you know what?
The very next day he grew some!

[baratron.livejournal.com]

It was Roger McGough - I found his web site and emailed him.

Sorry, I don't get comments emailed, so I only just found this. I expect you've probably given up looking. Oh well.