Best Pinocchio Poems
Confessed to creator Geppetto
"Got a fetish, I think you should know
Often I fiddle
‘Round with my middle
Take a look-see how THAT baby grows!"
Sumitted for: Roy Jerden's contest
Pinocchio’s wife had it good
She’d thank lucky stars if she could
For you see in the change
The Blue Fairy arranged
To leave the guy plenty of wood
The adventures of Pinocchio
- His Italian growing nose
Timber stiff ... in repose -
... doctor came from Tokyo
World needs more men like Collodi Carlo
13.03.2020
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Life Should Be Like Disneyland
Life should be like Disneyland,
Everyday a little bit of Never Never Land,
Dreams fill your heart,
They give us a new start,
A delightful way to fill the day,
Mickey Mouse and Minnie Mouse,
Spread happiness your way,
And my way,
They lift you out of the doldrums,
Of everyday life,
All the pain and strife,
But then we get swept away
Into something dreamy,
Cinderella, finds her Prince,
Her slipper is the imprint,
She and the Prince,
Will live happily ever after,
The Prince and Cinderella truly matter,
Life for Pinocchio was a bit trying,
He often did a lot of crying,
But Jimminy Cricket
Showed him the way,
And Pinocchio found happiness
In every day,
So, life in Disneyland
It is so grand,
Life should be a Never, Never Land.
Celine Rose Mariotti
I wanna be a tree
A big ‘ol block of wood
Just swayin’ in the breeze
Suckin’ in the bad air and
Letting out the good
With squirrels climbing all over
My branches tickling me
Birds nesting
Bugs munching
Flowers blooming
Fruits budding
A man snaps a limb that’s in
His face
That’s how I feel pain
I wanna be a tree
I know why leaves leave
Just Nature callin’
Squirrels never turn their back or
Promise the world
Or break your heart
A tree never knows
Crying….
All alone because you’re
All alone
Wood has knots and it’s ok
But a stomach hurts
Not wood
A tree weathers the storm and love
Creates one
God seems to leave
Mother Nature alone yet
Mettle
In the affairs of Man on a daily basis
I wanna be a tree
A big ol’ block of
wood
While Pinocchio wanted to be a boy
He didn’t know how lucky he was
At
first
a fib
nothing more
or that’s what he thought
but one economical truth
wasn’t enough, so his spinnerets spun some fresh lines
one needs fairly few words to speak the pure truth, but many more so to hold up a lie
______________________________________
N.B.: dedicated to my two of my favorite Italians, who share a "growing" propensity.
and maybe Sylvio Berlusconi, too.
It's not the usual bed time stories book that u expect to see
Beside it all the other tales books on the shelf are well done
The book that make you smile along the pages
Or remind you how childhood had been so much fun
It may seem a usual fairy tale book
So just turn its pages & let's have a look
The first tale is for Pinocchio
The old fairy tale that we used to hear
About a wooden puppet who dreamed of being real
The blue fairy said she could help him if he proved he worth it
Then she could turn him to a real boy no longer a puppet
He only needs to prove he could be brave, truthful & unselfish
Able to tell right from wrong by listening to his conscience
But it seems he couldn't understand any of it
& started to act totally the opposite
But then after a long adventure being such a bad toy
He ended up with donkey ears & tears of a little boy
& all what he got was a poor wooden broken heart
Didn’t know how to end this or why did he make all this start
U could stop at this point, I think you know how the story end
Just try to listen what message it's been trying to send
It's not about being a person or something made of wood
It's about worth being real or not
U may be breathing but are you real
Or you are turning to be wooden & u can't even feel
With a little help of the blue fairy, bravery & truth
Without being yet real without searching for an excuse
The puppet strings no more belong to Pinocchio
So if you don’t worth being a real person then those strings belong to you
Promises are shown as silhouettes to the world
even if it's madness - the people have spoken
No one feels guilty for how things turn out
Respect withers
the ears shrink
Black and white perspective
emotionally closed
Remember that hatred is born from the veil of ignorance
- human beings have only temporarily managed to forget it
PINOCCHIO WAS PUGILIST
))o((
Pinocchio was pugilist
Blasted Ponta Ponti's puke list
Honk barf and stinker
Scumbag skunk sinker
"Little git" he showed his nuke fist
Pinocchio was pugilist: Limerick: Copyright © Rajat Kanti Chakrabarty
11/17/2014
bye bye lucid wristbone you have
shaken me awake to many times now.
rattling my head, rattling
back to that old house.
back when it rained a lot against
the kitchen window.
all my dreams were kept folded up in
a brown and red quilt from my grandmother..
cross-stiched knees and ankles warmly
wrapped for the night..
in the morning there would be cereal bowl
milk rings on the kitchen table.
maybe even a little gravel in my skin.
but dont look now cause the backyard
swing is made of rust.
all my memories of wood and cloth.
see where I was sown together so long ago.
so get out the wrench and untighten the bolts,
my chest to open, my head to close.
A wish been granted, killed,
Against the laws of nature
He that demanded, willed
Life into inanimate stature
Yet another cliche instilled
A wish upon a star, gatekeeper
Of life caught napping, whistles trill
Loss and pain, nature of fear
The puppet learns to keep his heart still
The puppet breaks with human tears
"Pinocchio..." She said, fervent
"Tell me... Was it all worth it?"
Someone in a donut hole
Can’t hear a noisy tale
Pinocchio Nose is growing gradually
Above the clouds in the sky
The tip of his nose reached freezing space
Or violent heat evaporates all at once
Darkness is too dark
Brightness is too bright
No one can see anything there
Anyone can be blinded forever
Last night began in a darkened room
filled with forced friendships and opaque smiles.
We ate freshly popped popcorn with real butter,
probably the only real thing in the room, except for
painful memories, lost dreams and misplaced smiles.
We watched Pinocchio.
I realized,
I too want to be a real boy.
You see, I lived caged by the puppeteer,
his toy to use for enjoyment and gain.
I too danced with no strings,
being who all wanted me to be.
I sometimes fibbed to avoid trouble,
yet it found me time and time again,
sometimes at my own doing…
even when I told the truth.
My conscious was not a cricket,
but a full imagination that kept me going.
In the Hi-diddle-dee-dee,
as an actor to all, I set myself free.
The more I grew, the more I believed in
being brave, truthful, and unselfish.
I tried.
Like anyone on the journey of life,
I didn’t always succeed.
But I tried.
I learned though…always,
and therefore,
I never did turn into a jackass,
(although there are a few who will say differently).
I never had a Geppetto to rescue, yet
I refused to starve to death in the belly of a whale.
For me though, it wasn’t a whale it was a sea of sharks
who threatened to eat me alive.
I chose to be brave,
I chose to be truthful,
I chose to be unselfish,
or at least as much as possible.
In doing so, I saved myself,
(and continue to do so).
Of course I had some help from
unknown fairies,
invisible Figaros and
silent Cleos.
They took on different forms along the way.
Before bed last night
I looked at my friends.
I saw that they are real people,
also dealing with real life.
They have hope in their eyes.
They have dreams in their hearts,
and they have real smiles on their lips…
lips that often forget where those smiles reside.
As I went to bed with this understanding,
a warmth filled the air.
A star came from the night sky.
Suddenly, I became a real boy.
(Like a bolt out of the blue
Fate steps in and sees you through
When you wish upon a star
Your dreams come true)
I laid my head on my pillow in silence.
I was content.
As I fell asleep, I began to dream.
I dreamed about the next part of my journey…
…the road to becoming a real man.
She had a nose for sniffing out well-hid lies
from any boastful cyber Romeo,
who used Photoshop to mask their disguise
She'd get a twitch, a wiggle in her nose
when the words on the screen didn't seem quite right
Telling her there was something fishy about the prose
So she asked one such fake lover man,
what was his can't miss, can't resist pick-up line
He said, lady your ship has finally come to land
She said, it appears you carry quite a load in your cargo pants,
and you certainly talk with a pirate heart
But it's obvious that you're no Clark Gable or Cary Grant
You shoulda told me the truth when you had the chance
Nah, you're just a daddy long-legged liar,
because your pen got no rhythm and your words can't dance
Perhaps that inexpensive gift was another deterrant
to set an example to keep me from telling lies,
like the michievous Pinocchio did many times,
and as I stared at that toy, he become a real friend.
There he was with that long nose which never shrunk,
but grew and grew every time he lied to his old dad...
and the company he kept earned him a grave reprimand:
skipping school to go to places frequented by a punk.
Not realizing I was standing in harm's way, I ran
like him and followed the loud merry-making clan
that promised all children a fun world non-existent...
any other kid would have joined them in an instant.
I should have left him under my six feet tall Christmas Tree,
to never have let temptation overwhelm me with curiousity...
to resemble him and disobey my parents' heartfelt wishes without concern;
and what did my disobedience teach me? Lost years that can't ever return!