She was the baby-faced doll of the thirties for sure.
Her long eyelashes and adorable legs, not incredibly pure.
Max and Grim, her illustrators had the true scoop
On their lovely creation, Miss Betty Boop!
Her button nose wiggled, and she jiggled with happy
She danced around on the screen, making us sappy
We thought she was perfect, she was a living doll.
I think everyone loved her, but maybe me most of all.
I am a cartoonist, and most of my cartoons are like her.
They are Rubenesque like women who look totally impure.
I have not drawn one to perfection, but I keep trying every day.
Betty Boop still makes me happy, wanting to dance and to play!
Categories:
illustrators, nostalgia,
Form: Rhyme
Me
ACCEPTANCE SPEECH
I would like to thank all my readers and fans for supporting me and making this award I received so meaningful. I would like to thank PoetySoup and the poetic academy for all their accolades. I wish to thank my ex wives, my numerous children, and all the flowers I have planted over the years. I realize I am great, and I realize I am making poetry great again, and as much of a burden as this is for me to carry, I do so with honor. I wish to thank Pizza Hut and MacDonald's, as well as my personal friend the Kernel Saunders for the buckets of support he have given me.
I would love to thank my editors, my agent, my illustrators, my cleaning lady and also my very talented chef. Much deep appreciation also for my chauffeur and butler Keith. I am in gratitude also to my dentist for which without her talent of the mouth, I would not be smiling now. I would like to also thank all my village, and also the company that supplies all my cafe lattes, they filter so well, is so very much appreciated.
Finally, I must also thank my travel agent, my plumber and twelve stone masons for all their rock solid support.
God bless you all
Categories:
illustrators, art, confidence, humor, humorous,
Form: Free verse
What’s wrong with a child creating
in comic book style their own villains,
and heroes armed with guns. A n d still the teachers teach
to be civilized you must not color
outside the lines
as if all folk are m a d
some are merely young and have droplets of water
that bubble at the corner of their lids
Can you hear the comic book shriek
as it is torn in two?
A child’s heart breaks imagination is tabled a magician
saws it in half.
Shall we send all graphic illustrators to the gallows?
2/25/2018
Categories:
illustrators, child, sad,
Form: Free verse
paths lined by beautifully written word
to transport you into an unknown world
or relish while tethered to where you are
the fragrance and wind of lands afar
humor,history, fact or fiction housed under one roof
volumes of poetry for a dreamer and her muse
poets, authors,illustrators both alive and dead
beckoning for their work to be loved and read
a melting pot of several distinct eras and cultures
love pages embossed with ancient architecture
the smell of print,sweeter than any musk
keeps me hypnotized from dawn till dusk
the library, never fails to lure me like paradise
especially when it has heavenly Starbucks by its side.
Written on 06/17/2016
Categories:
illustrators, books,
Form: Rhyme
Dedicated to Stephen Mooser,
President of the internation
Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators,
Los Angeles, California
-------------------------------------------------------------
My books live somewhere
in distant California,
in city with the beautiful name «Los Angeles».
I sent them there to unfamiliar Mr. Mooser.
Now he is their new father.
I frequently see in my imagination
my books in their new country,
in their new house with new parents.
Probably my books – my children – are happy there:
They stand in book shelves.
Sunbeams smile at them,
Different people take them in their hands,
look at their pictures, and maybe even
they read them sometimes!
But sometimes I am afraid that
my books live
like poor orphans:
They lay in darkness, among unread papers.
They are covered with dust
and nobody ever takes them in hand...
But I am a big egoist,
I do not want to cry and worry.
Therefore I pretend:
my children – my books
are happy in their new country,
in their new houses, with new parents.
And maybe, even,
somebody will read them,
sometime.
Categories:
illustrators, friendship, philosophy, song-happy, books,
Form: Lyric