The Confessions of Henry Hooter the Third
Page 1
THE CONFESSIONS
OF
HENRY
HOOTER
THE THIRD
POEMS FOR OWLISH CHILDREN
by
Gabriel Rosenstock
Edited by Mícheál Ó hAodha
ORIGINAL WRITING
© 2011 GABRIEL ROSENSTOCK
EXPANDED EDITION 2011
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any means—graphic, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or information storage and retrieval systems—without the prior written permission of the author.
ISBNs
PARENT : 978-1-908477-95-8
EPub: 978-1-908477-96-5
Mobi : 978-1-908477-97-2
Published by ORIGINAL WRITING LTD., Dublin, 2011.
CONTENTS
The Confessions Of Henry Hooter The Third
The Vertical–Take–Off Sparrow
Sick Canary
The Corkscrew–Bird
Goose To Greenland Going
Connemara Child
Late Again!
Old Frog
Yakity Yak
The Depths Of Henry Hooter
Waddle
Stick–In–The–Mud–Spud
An Invitation To Discuss Life With An Eel
National Anthem (Nearly) For Nepal
Larry The Locust
To Katawangadoo - And Back!
Gooseberry
Chopped Carrot
What The Weasel Painted
The Asparagus Is Learning French
Hedgy
What Did You Slay?
Polar Bear
Onion
Now It’s Snowing
Pre–Marital Tension
Litter–Bug
Sos Lost Whale!
Miss Pear
The Fire–Eating Moth
Late Again! (Yet Again)
Cabbage
Canute
Wuff
Auld Lang Syne
Shady Banana
Sea Bee
Professor X Goes Splat!
The Cautionary Tale Of The Horseradish
Charles The Woodworm
Bully
Harry
Dolly The Donkey Dances, Again
Us Voles
Mule
Henry Hooter Had A Flea
First
The Return of the Dodo
The Duck-Billed Platypus
The Tale of a Rat
Letter from a Mouse
Centipede
THE CONFESSIONS OF HENRY HOOTER THE THIRD
Sadly the dawn light seeps from the skies
He closes his eyes
Counts black sheep
Cannot sleep.
“I am tired of being wise …
I’m not wise. It’s all lies!
“I am just a foolish bird
My name is Henry Hooter the Third.
“With a name like that I could be clever?
What a hoot (bless my word!) – did you ever?”
He opens his eyes
Thinks: “Me? Wise?”
“I’ve a big surprise for you all:
I am as wise as a brick wall!”
Now that he’s said all he wanted to say
Henry Hooter goes to sleep for the day.
THE VERTICAL-TAKE-OFF SPARROW
The vertical-take-off sparrow –
A creature that seldom is seen;
Up he goes like an arrow –
They call him “The Flying Machine”.
He whirrs when about to take off –
But how to describe it… that sound!
Say a hundred gnus were to cough
(If a hundred gnus could be found).
SICK CANARY
My canary is sick
And refuses to sing,
He turns up his nose
At the food I bring
And his eyes grow dim
Grow dim, grow dim
And nobody knows
What’s the matter with him.
I wish he could speak …
Can’t you open your beak?
Poor little thing! He’s far too weak.
THE CORKSCREW-BIRD
The corkscrew-bird has a very funny nose
With which it makes holes in trees,
A funny old nose which it never ever blows
Except when about to sneeze.
The corkscrew–bird is born in mid–June
(And sometimes, too, in May)
Try as it might it can’t sing in tune
But it hopes to … one fine day.
GOOSE TO GREENLAND GOING
The brent goose eyes a passing cloud:
“I’m leaving tomorrow
No cause for sorrow!”
Chill wind cries aloud.
Greenland calls to the brent goose, time to go,
Nothing has changed
Her flight is arranged
No time to lose come hail, come snow.
How I wish she’d take me there
To Greenland through the honking air!
CONNEMARA CHILD
An insect chirps in the meadow
Like a bicycle coming down the road,
I’m not afraid of the bumble bee,
The asses cry with their heavy load.
Mama’s shawl is warm,
Father’s pants are wide,
If ever I’m in trouble
I know where I can hide.
Uncle is mending a currach,
How I love the smell of the tar!
The lake at the end of the boreen –
Silvery as a star.
I like the cows black as turf,
That stream – no depth at all;
Sheep have dye–marks, blue and red,
Ponies never grow tall.
LATE AGAIN!
Lightning flashes daub the sky,
Crow is flying at his level best;
“Caw! What a storm – can hardly fly,
Hardly see … damn, where’s my nest?
“What am I doing at this time of night,
Lightning ripping the sky in two;
I’m a fool, you know – head is gone light,
Wife will be mad. What will I do?”
OLD FROG
Down in a hole in a bog
Lived an old, old, old, old frog.
He was old, he was cold,
All covered in mould
And breakfasted mostly on fog.
YAKITY YAK
The yak
Carries lots of things
On his back
And as he trundles
He tumbles and mumbles
Singing
“So many bundles!
Alack!”
THE DEPTHS OF HENRY HOOTER
Henry Hooter has a pain in his head,
“Should I get up, or stay here in bed?
Should I be single, or should I be wed?”
His head feels heavy – heavy as lead.
Henry Hooter has just had a thought,
It flew out his ear and was only half caught:
“All life,” he said, “is with something fraught,
Wisdom’s a something … something – something
bought.”
Henry Hooter opened a book,
“What a load of codswollop! Look, just look!”
With laughter and anger his whole frame
shook –
“From start to finish it’s gobbledegook!”
Henry Hooter says the world has gone mad:
“Just have a look at it! Terrri
bly sad!
Everyone asking what’s the latest fad –
By heavens, I hope it’s not me – egad!”
Henry Hooter nods off to sleep,
Sleeping deeply he lies in a heap,
Deeply sleeping till the first stars peep,
Mumbling sweetly “How come I’m so deep?”
POEM FOUND IN A SINK
Squids spurt ink
Philosophers think
Psychiatrists shrink
Skunks stink
Owls wink
What’s a fink?
Don’t know. But flamingos are pink
And lemmings fall over the brink
Into the drink:
Is it some kind of kink?
Don’t know. But foxes slink
And a chain is as weak as its strongest link.
Is it wrong to wear mink?
Don’t know. But skaters skate in a rink
Glasses clink
Coins chink
Zn stands for zinc
Some girls prink
And as far as I know fish don’t blink.
WADDLE
I am a little penguin
And I waddle when I run:
Widdle wuddle waddle –
Gosh, it’s so much fun!
I waddle in the morning
When the day begins to break
And I waddle in the night–time
Just to keep myself awake!
My dad’s a powerful waddler –
Twice Waddler of the Year,
The judges said he must have had
A fourth or fifth gear!
STICK-IN-THE-MUD-SPUD
“That old Spud’s a proper stick-in-the-mud,”
Says red–lipped Cherry. “Not talking to him
anymore!”
Spud hears this and is hurt to the core.
Suddenly – thud!
Next thing you know he’s lying on the floor.
All the fruit and vegetables gather round to
view the scene.
“Dead or alive?” asks Parsnip. “Hmm … let’s
see,” says Garden Pea,
“I wonder … hmm …what do you think Broad
Bean?”
“Nothing serious, just badly shook if you ask
me!”
“Spud! Darling! It’s me – Cherry. I’m awfully
sorry! (Can he hear?)
Said awfully sorry! Friends? So silly to fight!”
Spud opens a watery eye: “Forgive you this
time, my dear.”
“Oh, so happy!
Tell me Spud … anything – er –
cooking tonight?”
AN INVITATION TO DISCUSS LIFE WITH AN EEL
You think because I’m just an eel
I don’t feel?
I feel! As do lizards, newts and rats
And vampire bats!
You think because you see no tears
I’ve got no hopes, no dreams, no fears?
I fear, I dream, I hope,
My dreams are slippier than soap.
What do you think I’m made of? Jelly?
Oh, what’s the point! Go watch telly!
NATIONAL ANTHEM (NEARLY)
FOR NEPAL
“I think not,”
Says the Nepalese Apricot
“I think not…”
“What?
Hey, Apricot!
Think not what?”
“No, I think not,”
Says the Apricot
“I think not…”
“That there Apricot
Sure does think a lot!”
“I think not,”
Says the Apricot
“I think not…”
LARRY THE LOCUST
Larry the Locust
Is fond of his swarm
“Keeps me warm.”
Larry the Locust
Flies here and there
“Most everywhere.”
Larry the Locust
Could never live alone
No mind of his own.
Larry the Locust
There he goes!
Which one is he?
Nobody knows.
TO KATAWANGADOO – AND BACK !
Where bananas straighten out by the hour
And the stinging coconut slowly loses its hair,
Have you been there?
I was – I swear!
Nuts there swell, shiver and grow sour,
Sad gorillas stare
At aero–bats sailing backwards through the air –
For a dare!
Swamps giggle as fish cower,
Sly crocodiles, weeping, glare
At snide parrots who don’t give a care
Because there’s zillions of them there.
Slimy waterfalls freeze, stumpy giraffes glower
And whistle a soft tune – so sweet and rare –
Before … splat! They tumble into the spider’s
snare:
YES, I WAS THERE!
GOOSEBERRY
I no longer want to be a gooseberry!
But wouldn’t it be merry – very –
To be a duckberry, – what?
I’d like that a quacking lot!
Or a turkeyberry for that matter
And never run out of chatter.
A swanberry – yes, that would be nice.
A swanberry – cool as ice:
With cygnetberries all in a row
Waiting to turn into snow.
Anything! Anything but a gooseberry!
I’m nothing but a hairy what’s–the–use–berry!
CHOPPED CARROT
The Carrot woke up
To the sound of a slicing scream;
Old Turnip spoke up:
“Young Carrot there’s having a dream.”
The following night
Carrot woke up as before;
Turnip was right
“I’m afraid you’re a bit of a bore!”
“Help! Help! It’s a rabbit!”
“Oh, shut it!” says Turnip, “this is becoming a
habit!”
WHAT THE WEASEL PAINTED
There were snails
on rails
and mice
on ice.
Dogs, hogs
and frogs
in clogs –
floundering in bogs.
Gnus
in pointed shoes
(their tootsies will bruise).
Llamas
in striped pyjamas.
Asses
with glasses.
Chimps
with limps –
such imps!
Cats, rats
and bats
in spats.
Yaks
in plastic macs –
(soaked to the bone,
all all alone,
they groan,
all trying to use the phone:
Hallo? Hallo? Ochone!)
Two fighting cocks
a stray fox
something rather like an ox.
A papoose
riding a moose
and a goose
with a screw loose.
And there with his easel
Wilfred the Weasel
painting a sun as small as a measle!
THE ASPARAGUS IS LEARNING FRENCH
The Asparagus is learning French
Oui Oui! and s’il vous plait;
The Jerusalem artichoke says “Mensch!
She getting crazier by the day!”
Nobody knows what she’s saying,
She’s been at this now for a week:
“Please stop this s’il vous plaiting
Or I’ll speak Welsh!” says the leek.
HEDGY
Hedgy the Hedgehog
Is crossing the road,
I sure hope he makes it
And lives to be old:
“Come on Hedgy, hop it!”
He stops dead cold …
“Hop it?” says Hedgy,
I’m not a bloomin’ toad!”
WHAT DID YOU SLAY?
Miss Orange has a stutter,
Or, should one say a splutter?
It annoys Professor Apple
Who, as you know, is trying to grapple
With the flutterfly…
Oh my!
Stand back if you please, Miss Orange – back!
Out of my way!
Slorry, Professor Zapple, what did – what did
you slay?
POLAR BEAR
A polar bear once went to sea
On a morning as cold as could be,
“This ice–floe,’ he felt
Is unlikely to melt…”
But it did – when he went for a pee.
ONION
The onion’s eyes are streaming
The tears drip down his nose
His two little ears are beaming
And this is how his story goes:
Oh woe is me.
Oh me is woe.
Look at that bunion
On my toe.
Poor onion!
NOW IT’S SNOWING
sss
sss
sss
sss
sss
sss
sss
sss
sss
sss
sss
sss
sss
sss
sss
sss
sss
NOw
PRE-MARITAL TENSION
Henry Hooter is tired of mice:
“Put them on ice!
Put them on ice!”
Henry Hooter won’t touch a fly:
“I’d rather die!
I’d rather die!”
Henry Hooter is fed up with life:
“I need a wife!
I need a wife!”
So he puts an ad in The Owltime Review:
LOOKING FOR A MISSUS. COULD IT BE YOU?
REPLIES IN CONFIDENCE. TO–WHIT! TO–WHO!
LITTER-BUG
Litter-bug litter-bug
Where have you been?
“Scattering rubbish –
I’m ever so keen!
Down by the waterfront