Author: Kenn Nesbitt

One of my favorite tricks for coming up with new poem ideas is to take two simple, unrelated things and combine them into something unexpected. When I’m stuck and don’t know what to write about, I’ll sometimes just look around the room or flip through a book until I find two things that catch my attention. Then I ask myself, “What kind of poem could I write that connects these two things?”

For example, if I spot a puppy and then a piano, I might end up writing a poem called “My Puppy Plays Piano.” That’s exactly how Goldfish Moving Day began. I was flipping through a book when I saw a picture of a goldfish on one page… and later, a moving van on another. I asked myself, “What would it be like if a goldfish had to move?” And from that odd little question, this poem was born.

I hope it sparks your imagination too. And maybe the next time you’re feeling stuck, you’ll try combining two random ideas of your own!

Goldfish Moving Day

My goldfish had a tiny bowl.
He needed one much bigger
to be a truly happy soul
and swim with vim and vigor.

I visited the pet shop where
I bought a new aquarium.
I thought I’d pour his bowl in there.
He asked if I could carry him.

I said, “Hey, wait! So you can speak?
I made that birthday wish!
I blew the candles out last week
to get a talking fish!”

He said, “That’s right. Yes, I can speak.
It’s you I have to thank
for wishing I could talk last week.
Now take me to my tank!”

I did exactly as he said
and picked him up to carry him.
He gasped for air and soon was dead,
and now I have to bury him.

So, on your birthday I suggest
that when you make your wishes,
it’s obviously not the best
to ask for talking fishes.

— Kenn Nesbitt

The other day, I was re-reading my all-time favorite book of poetry, Colin West’s fabulous collection, The Big Book of Nonsense. In Chapter 1, there is a poem simply titled “Knitting.” In Chapter 2, there is a poem called “Octopus.” I was still thinking about the knitting poem when I started reading the octopus poem, and it occurred to me that an octopus who liked to knit would be a funny idea for a poem.

Of course, none of what was in Colin’s poems is in mine. That would be plagiarism (copying someone else’s work), and plagiarism is wrong, wrong, wrong. But it just goes to show you how you can not only find inspiration in the real world, but also in the works of others. Inspiration can come from anywhere, including art, songs, and even other poems. Just make sure to write your own words! Without further ado, here is…

Today I Met an Octopus

Today I met an octopus
who loved to sit and knit.
I watched her weave a woolen cap
and then an oven mitt.

She made a scarf, a pair of gloves,
a sweater, and a shirt,
then turned out several teddy bears,
a blanket, and a skirt.

She made a pillow cover
and pair of knee-high boots,
a hoodie and a tablecloth,
and several three-piece suits.

She made a single slipper next,
and then she made a pair.
She even knitted stockings
and some frilly underwear.

I asked if I could learn to knit.
She told me, “Not right now.
But if you’ll just grow six more arms,
I’ll gladly show you how.”

— Kenn Nesbitt

Sometimes I think of the ending of a poem before I know how it’s going to start. An idea for a good ending can come from anywhere, and sometimes it can even come from a poem someone else wrote. That’s the case with this poem.

The poet Joshual Seigal recently wrote a poem called “Motor Skills.” I loved the ending so much, that I wanted to see if I could write something similar. While his poem and mine are completely different, if you read both of them, you should see how the ending of his poem provided the inspiration for mine.

Also, since this is a poem about shapes, I thought I could also make it a learning experience by including as many common shapes as possible. While everyone knows what a circle and a triangle are, you might not remember what a rhombus or a trapezoid look like. So why not take a moment to refresh your memory.

Triangles Make Me Feel Nervous

Triangles make me feel nervous,
and rectangles make me feel sad.
I’m not at all fond of the rhombus,
and octagons drive me quite mad.

The crescent and heart aren’t my favorites.
The trapezoid’s truly bizarre.
The sphere and the circle are silly.
I’m not a big fan of the star.

Of all of the shapes I can think of,
the square is the best one I’ve found.
I’m always excited to see one.
I like when a square is around.

— Kenn Nesbitt

When I was in elementary school, beginning in about the fourth grade, I was responsible for packing my own lunch every day. I even wrote a poem about it in my book Revenge of the Lunch Ladies called “I’m Getting Sick of Peanut Butter.” In that poem, I complain that my lunch has a peanut butter sandwich in it every day, and I’m getting tired of it. The original ending of that poem was, “You see, it is the only thing that I know how to make.” In other words, I had only myself to blame for the fact that my lunch was always the same thing.

When I submitted the poem to my editor, he argued that children don’t pack their own lunches, and insisted that I change the ending, so it would up as, “You see, it is the only thing my mom knows how to make.” I didn’t like that ending as much, but I could see that we were never going to agree, so I decided to compromise.

Recently, I was thinking about that, and it occurred to me that, even if most kids don’t pack their own lunches every day, they might do it every once in a while. I wondered what would happen if a kid who didn’t normally pack their own lunch suddenly had the opportunity. What might they include? Would they put in every sweet or tasty thing they could find? And that’s how this poem was born.

Today I Packed My Lunch Myself

Today I packed my lunch myself.
I got my lunch box off the shelf
and quickly filled it to the top.
I don’t know why I couldn’t stop.
That’s why I have a soda pop,
an ice cream cone, a lemon drop,
bananas, bacon, gummy bears,
lasagna, licorice, pickles, pears,
a candy bar, a chocolate shake,
an apple pie, a birthday cake,
some chips and dip, a T-bone steak…
I also have a tummy ache.

— Kenn Nesbitt