Author: Kenn Nesbitt

Welcome to Poetry4kids. I’m Kenn Nesbitt

I thought of the idea for this poem while I was out on a brisk walk one day, feeling unusually full of energy. That got me thinking about how some kids just seem to have endless energy—always moving, always playing, always going. I began imagining what it would be like to be one of those kids, and from there the idea for “Hyper Nate” was born.

This poem is all about motion and excitement and the joy of being active. It has a bouncy rhythm and lots of extra rhymes to match the character’s boundless energy, and of course I had to add a little twist at the end. I hope you have just as much fun listening to it as I did writing it! This is…

Hyper Nate

My name is Nate. My normal state
is one of being hyper.
I’ve been a wild and active child
since I was in a diaper.

You’d be surprised how energized
a kid like me can be.
It’s tons of fun to run and run.
I’m filled with energy.

I’m called “live wire,” and “ball of fire,”
and “human dynamo.”
I love to skip and dash and zip.
I go, go, go, go, go!

I charge and chase and rush and race
until my hyper state
gets so extreme I lose my steam,
and then I hibernate.

— Kenn Nesbitt

Welcome to Poetry4kids. I’m Kenn Nesbitt.

I’ve always enjoyed writing poems about characters who are a little… well… less than excellent at what they do. There’s something especially funny about someone who tries their best but still manages to get everything hilariously wrong. Over the years, I’ve written about a pirate who’s never seen the sea, a scientist who searches for things that don’t exist, an old west bank robber who always fumbles the loot, and many more kooky characters.

This time, I thought it would be fun to take on the classic mystery genre, but with a detective who isn’t exactly solving any mysteries. This is her story and I hope you enjoy it!

Annette the Detective

Annette the Detective is bad at detecting.
She’s crummy at hunting for clues and inspecting.
She can’t catch the bad guys or solve any cases
by following footprints or studying faces.

She doesn’t spot obvious, telltale signs.
She can’t point out patterns or notice designs.
She has no suspicions, not even a hunch.
She’s slow on the uptake (except for her lunch).

She’s bad with disguises, like costumes and masks.
She messes up even the easiest tasks.
She bungled the case of the neighbor’s lost cat.
(The cat was asleep in her Sherlock Holmes hat.)

The criminals cheer when Annette’s on the case.
They know she won’t catch them or even give chase.
If you need a crime solved, it’s better if you
don’t work with Annette—she does not have a clue.

— Kenn Nesbitt

Welcome to Poetry4kids. I’m Kenn Nesbitt. One of my favorite things about writing poems is playing with language—especially when it comes to words or phrases that can mean more than one thing. Sometimes, we use expressions that sound perfectly normal… until you stop and really think about what they say. And when you do, well, they can start to sound pretty silly.

Today’s poem is one of those. It began with a common phrase you’ve probably heard before, and turned into something completely unexpected. Let’s see what happens when everyday language takes a very strange turn. This is…

The Sofa Ate My Father

My dad was on the sofa.
He was watching the TV
when the sofa swiftly swallowed him,
then burped and said, “‘Scuse me.”

I’d never heard the sofa speak,
so that was really weird.
But I was mainly mad because
my father disappeared.

I yelled, “Hey, that’s my dad you ate!
You have to give him back!”
The sofa answered, “Sorry,
but I had to have a snack.

“I didn’t mean to eat your dad.
I know that might seem rude,
but your dad’s a ‘couch potato,’
so I figured he was food.

“I’ll try to be more careful
from now on with what I eat,
and you’ll have him back tomorrow
once he passes through my seat.”

— Kenn Nesbitt