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Welcome to Poetry4kids. I’m Kenn Nesbitt. I’ve always loved cheese. Today, as I was eating an especially cheesy pizza for lunch, the idea of an artist creating entire sculptures out of cheese seemed irresistibly whimsical and delicious. There has been a long tradition among children’s poets, such as Colin West in the UK and Jack Prelutsky in the US, of creating poems about unusual characters with strange and funny talents. I thought Skylar the Sculptor would fit perfectly into this tradition, using her imagination (and a ton of cheese) to make incredible, edible art.
Although this poem is completely absurd, it is also meant to remind us that art doesn’t always have to be serious—it can be temporary, tasty, and loads of fun! I hope you enjoy it. This is…
Skylar the Sculptor
When Skylar the Sculptor makes statues,
No, Skylar is such a strange sculptor,
She’ll carve a few columns from colby,
Although she makes hundreds of sculptures
— Kenn Nesbitt
Welcome to Poetry4kids. I’m Kenn Nesbitt. Today I’d like to share a fun new holiday poem with you. With Christmas just around the corner, I found myself wondering how many days were left until the big day. The phrase “I’m Counting the Days until Christmas” popped into my head, and I loved the rhythm of the words, as well as the idea of checking off each day on a calendar while excitedly looking forward to Christmas Day. It seemed like the perfect topic for a holiday poem! I hope you enjoy this festive little rhyme about the anticipation of Christmas.
I’m Counting the Days until Christmas
I’m counting the days until Christmas.
I’m counting the days until Christmas.
I’m counting the days until Christmas.
I’m counting the days until Christmas.
— Kenn Nesbitt
Welcome to Poetry4kids. I’m Kenn Nesbitt. I grew up in a part of California where it never snowed, but every now and then my parents would take me and my brothers to the nearby mountains in the wintertime to play in the snow. We loved building snowmen and throwing snowballs at one another. Later, when I moved up north where it snows every winter, my own kids grew up doing the same—building snow forts and having snowball fights, but they got to do it in the front yard.
This poem was inspired by those memories and the idea of what might happen if kids got a little carried away and missed their intended target. Sometimes, snowball fights can lead to some pretty funny and unexpected situations!
My Brother Made a Snowball
My brother made a snowball.
It hit our mother in the head.
Our mother made some snowballs, and
So now my brother looks just like
— Kenn Nesbitt
Welcome to Poetry4kids. I’m Kenn Nesbitt.
With Thanksgiving just around the corner here in the US, I wanted to write a fun poem about the holiday that captures the feeling of overindulging at a big family feast.
Thanksgiving is a time for gratitude and togetherness, but it’s also a time when we often eat more than we should—something kids and grown-ups alike can relate to. I thought it would be fun to explore that universal experience from a playful perspective, imagining what it might feel like to share the aftermath of a big meal with an unexpected companion.
I hope this poem brings a smile to your face as you prepare for your own holiday celebrations!
It’s Thanksgiving Night
It’s Thanksgiving night, and
My stomach is aching.
I ate too much food, so
We’re hugging each other
Tonight, though, we’re whining
— Kenn Nesbitt
Welcome to Poetry4kids. I’m Kenn Nesbitt. A couple of years ago my friend, the children’s poet Janet Wong, asked if I would contribute a poem to an anthology she was creating with children’s literature professor Sylvia Vardell called Things We Feel. She gave me several photos to choose from as inspiration, and I particularly liked one of a young boy tossing a bowling ball. It made me think about that moment of suspense—the thrill, the hope, and the uncertainty you feel as soon as the ball leaves your hands.
As with other books in this series (Things We Do, Things We Wear, and Things We Eat), 100% of the profits will be donated to the IBBY Children in Crisis Fund, a cause I’m proud to support.
Suspense
I make a wish.
— Kenn Nesbitt
Welcome to Poetry4kids. I’m Kenn Nesbitt. As a student, I remember being so tired in school some days that I would fall asleep at my desk and the teacher would have to wake me up. I was never so tired in the morning that I went to school in my pajamas or bedsheet or blankets. But a friend of mine actually did this once when she was in college. She was so sleepy that she woke up at the very last minute, wrapped her sheet around herself and walked to class.
Recalling this recently, I thought it might be funny to write a poem about it. I hope you enjoy it.
Welcome to Poetry4kids. I’m Kenn Nesbitt. With Halloween just around the corner, I wanted to write a poem about the holiday. I had already written a poem about spooky monsters called “The Monsters’ Thanksgiving,” so this time I thought it would be fun to come up with a poem about trick-or-treating. I imagined creating a time-saving device to help collect more candy, and the idea of an army of trick-or-treating robots came to me.
The very next day, I saw a headline that read, “Inventor Builds Six Robot Copies of Himself, Uses One to Give Speeches and Take Questions From Audience.” I took that as a sign that my idea was timely—and that this was definitely a poem I needed to write! I hope you enjoy it.
Robot Halloween
I built a hundred robots, and
They went in all directions
My robots were efficient.
They brought their load of candy home
An avalanche of candy poured
We may no longer have a house
It turns out having robots
— Kenn Nesbitt
Ideas for poems can come from lots of different places. Sometimes when I write a poem, the idea starts with a single word or a phrase. In this case, I was thinking about the upcoming holidays, Halloween and Thanksgiving. Halloween made me think of monsters, including Frankenstein’s monster, which made me think of “Frankenstein’s Thanksgiving.” It occurred to me that it might be fun to write a single poem that combines Halloween and Thanksgiving into a single holiday. This poem is the result.
The Monsters’ Thanksgiving
When monsters spend Thanksgiving
They each will bring a favorite dish
The Creature from the Black Lagoon
The Zombie drops some finger foods.
The Mummy brings a bubbling bowl
They do this each November, and
— Kenn Nesbitt
Every now and then, there’s a day when you just don’t want to get out of bed. Rather than take on the new day, you just want to stay under the blankets and sleep. I wrote this poem because I started thinking about all the wild, imaginative reasons someone might have for staying in bed—things that are so strange, they would drive just about anyone back to bed. While you can take this poem at face value, reading it as though these crazy things actually happened to the narrator, you should also consider other possibilities. Perhaps the narrator is still asleep and dreaming. Or maybe they’ve just come up with a harebrained excuse to avoid facing the day. No matter how you interpret it, sometimes it feels like it’s just easier to stay under the covers when things get too weird!
Bed Instead
This morning I woke up
I thought this was odd, so
My clothing was strolling.
My toys and my backpack
If anyone needs me,
— Kenn Nesbitt
I recently had a “half birthday,” which falls in August since my real birthday is in February. Because of this, I was thinking about writing a half-birthday poem. By the time I started working on it, it was already September. The line “I never can remember if my birthday’s in September” popped into my head because September rhymes so nicely with “remember”—and also with December and November. I liked the way that line sounded, so I created this poem with that idea as the starting point.
When thinking about half birthdays, it also occurred to me that since it might be fun to celebrate your birthday twice a year, it could be even more fun to celebrate it three or four times a year, or even more often.
Oh, and by the way, the rhythm of this poem is the same as one of my all-time favorite poems, “In Praise of Llamas” by Arthur Guiterman. It was fun to use that familiar rhythm to explore the idea of never quite remembering my birthday—and deciding how often to celebrate it!
When’s My Birthday?
I never can remember
And it may be on the seventh,
Now, while some might find this vexing,
— Kenn Nesbitt
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