Category: Poetry

Our Brand-New TV by Kenn Nesbitt Our Brand-New TV

A lot of my poems are inspired by things that happen in my own life. I wrote this one while my wife was watching a football game with her sister and brother-in-law, and I was in the other room working on a poem. As they cheered at the TV, it made me think about how different people in the same family often want to watch completely different things.

That reminded me that many families wait until Christmas to make big purchases—like a brand-new TV—and that sometimes, instead of bringing everyone together, it can create a whole new set of arguments. Football? Parades? Christmas cartoons? A holiday movie? Everyone has a favorite.

I started wondering what might happen if nobody could agree on what to watch on their shiny new television. That little idea was enough to spark this poem.

Our Brand-New TV

For Christmas, our gift was a brand-new TV.
We couldn’t agree, though, on what we should see.

My sister said, “We should all watch the parade.”
Our dad said, “The football game’s on, I’m afraid.”

My brother said, “Let’s watch a Christmas cartoon!”
Our mom said, “A good movie’s starting at noon.”

We squabbled and fought over what we should see
for hours and hours but couldn’t agree.

And meanwhile, our dog, who did not get a vote,
just sat down and chewed up the TV remote.

The TV’s now stuck from the way that he chewed.
It only shows squirrels and close-ups of food.

And, strangely, we all liked his channel much better.
It turns out our dog is a great TV setter.

— Kenn Nesbitt

My Family Portrait by Kenn Nesbitt My Family Portrait

When I was in school, I loved to paint and draw. I even thought I would become a comic book illustrator when I grew up! But honestly… I never got very good at it. My pictures usually came out kind of funny, with lots of imperfections. And that’s okay! Everyone makes mistakes when they’re learning something new. It doesn’t matter if you’re practicing the piano, trying a new sport, baking a cake, learning a new language, or painting a picture; mistakes are part of the process. In fact, they’re not really failures at all. They’re what help us get better. This poem is about a kid who learns that very lesson in a pretty silly way. I hope you enjoy it. This is…

My Family Portrait

I painted a picture this morning,
depicting my family and me.
I made some mistakes on my artwork,
mistakes that were easy to see.

I dribbled some paint on the paper.
My mom ended up with three eyes.
My dad had a head like a pumpkin
and hair like an order of fries.

My brother was partially purple,
with zigzags all over his face.
My sister had curly antennae,
and looked like a creature from space.

The little green blob that I splattered
was meant to resemble our dog.
Instead, it appeared that our puppy
was more like an oversized frog.

I nervously showed them my painting.
It turned out they liked it a lot.
They laughed and proclaimed it was perfect.
I’m better at art than I thought.

— Kenn Nesbitt

My First Poem

Kids often want to know what the first poem I ever wrote was, so here it is. This poem was inspired by Shel Silverstein’s poem Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout and by the daughter of a friend of mine. Her name was Amber, and she was four years old at the time I wrote this poem. After seeing her play with her food instead of eating, and because of Shel Silverstein’s poem, I thought to write a poem about a little girl who wouldn’t eat her dinner. This poem then led to me writing more and more poems, and eventually creating this website and publishing children’s books.

Scrawny Tawny Skinner

Scrawny little Tawny Skinner
could not, would not, eat her dinner.
Though her parents begged and pleaded,
Tawny would not sit and eat it.

They tried forcing, they tried coaxing;
Tawny said “I feel like chokesing!
I’m so full, my stomach hurts.
I think I should eat dessert!”

She would not eat lima beans;
she would not eat spinach greens.
She would not eat baby peas;
she would not eat cottage cheese.

Pushing food around her plate,
she said, “Look how much I ate!”
But no scrap of food got in her,
Tawny would not eat her dinner.

She would not eat mashed potatoes,
Brussels sprouts or sliced tomatoes.
She would not eat chicken legs,
hot roast beef or deviled eggs.

Tawny closed her mouth up tight,
and would not eat a single bite.
Every minute she grew thinner,
Scrawny little Tawny Skinner.

She would not eat pizza pie;
no baked beans, not one french fry.
Though she was quite thin and bony,
she would not eat macaroni!

What came next, I hate to repeat,
could happen to you if you don’t eat.
Just what all her family feared–
she grew so thin she disappeared.

And though she was hungry an hour later,
they could not find her to reinflate her.
So next time you don’t want your dinner
think of scrawny Tawny Skinner.