Nursery rhymes are often our first introductions to poetry. You’d be hard-pressed to find a youngster who was unaware of Jack’s broken crown, the shoe-dwelling woman with more children than the Duggars, or everyone’s favorite fall-on-your-bum game, “ring around the rosie.”
But despite the sing-song rhythms and lyrical use of end rhyme, many of Mother Goose’s hymns mask dark underpinnings. For instance, historians believe that Jack and Jill are folk-references to King Louis XVI (who lost his crown by beheading) and Marie Antoinette (who came tumbling down shortly thereafter). And those rings around the rosies? A reference to bubonic boils that eventually laid waste to Europe in the 14th century.
Ashes, Ashes, we all fall down.
The oral passing of many nursery rhymes from generation to generation has stripped the poem of context and meaning. And without that interpretive context, today’s children believe the poems to be little more than quaint songs about Pixar film characters (see, e.g., “Puss in Boots”).
Some nursery rhymes, however, retain their gloomy nature by virtue of their lyrical content. Consider my childhood favorite, sung to me by my mother during thunder storms.
It’s raining, it’s pouring;
the old man is snoring.
Bumped his head,
and he went to bed.
Couldn’t get up in the morning.
Though little is known of this ditty’s origins, it is suggestive of an elderly man who sustains a head injury, resulting in an epidural hematoma, paralysis, and his eventual death. Hardly the stuff of a children’s poem, eh? And as one with a career based in examination of issues of legal liability, this poem is perhaps even more frightening to me as an adult. (Could one write a sequel wherein the old man’s family instituted an action for wrongful death? A nickel for anyone who tries.)
Here at Tweetspeak, we’ve playing with rain and water themes during the month of August and writing book spine poems relating to the theme. And while I’ve been writing these Monday morning prompts, the dying old man’s tune has been playing repeatedly in my mind. Perhaps that’s why I’ve delved into melancholy, the morose, and–in today’s post–the morbid aspects of the rain theme.
I’m ready to sing “rain rain go away,” and get to a sun-shinier topic. But before I do, I’ve composed one final book spine poem–a nursery rhyme aimed toward accentuating the positive aspects of the August Rain theme.
The clouds piled up high
in the dark western sky
And threatened with Rumors of Water.
I found the Stone Crossings
‘fore the gale began tossing
And was led to good poetry fodder.
Now it’s your turn. Can you compose a final book (or CD) spine poem summing up this month’s theme? We’ll give extra credit for nursery rhymes, but a grand book spine poem touching on the theme is more than acceptable. Come play in the rain with us. It’s your last chance!
Tweetspeak’s August Rain Project.
This month’s found poem theme at Tweetspeak is Rain, and we’re using book spines (or CD spines) as the prompt. We’d love you to join with is. How do you participate?
1. This month, we will take our cues from book spines (see Glynn’s piece for more information). Look through your personal collection, the aisles at your local bookstore, or your neighbor’s bookcase and grab a few titles.
2. Arrange a poem completely from words on book spines, or use pieces of the titles to create your own found poem. Make sure your poems touch on themes of rain OR water.
3. Tweet your poems (and pictures of the book spines) to us. Add a #tsrain hashtag so we can find it and maybe share it with the world.
4. If you aren’t a twitter user, leave your found poem here in the comment box (we’ll use our mind’s eye to imagine your book spines).
5. Each week we’ll share a few of the poems. At the end of the month, we’ll choose a winning poem and ask the winner to record his or her poem to be featured in one of our upcoming Weekly Top 10 Poetic Picks.
Last week we had some dandy book spine, cd spine, and song title hybrid poems. Maureen Doallas wrote:
Speaking of faith,
Who’ll stop the rain?
Einstein’s God: Rain King
teaching a stone to talk.
Donna did a number, too. Evoking themes of comfort in loss, she writes:
if the rain must fall
i’ll be singing in the rain
I’ll be dancing to the
rhythm of the rain
my friend
let the four winds blow
i’ll fly like an eagle
with the riders on the storm
not the
dust on the wind
Thanks to everyone who submitted last week. Each piece was its own work of artistic expression! Now, grab a pen and paper, and let’s get writing! Once you’ve written your piece, come back here and rain it on us!
Photo (top) by KellBailey, Creative Commons via Flickr. Post by Seth Haines.
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Seth, you’re singing my song this morning, along with the pleasant gentleman (who appears older than his stated age) who sustained an unfortunate closed head injury when he slipped on a damp spot on the floor while doing business at a large retail store.
In fact, I think I have a few of the old man snoring cases on my desk right now.
Polish up that nickle; I’ll be working on the old’s man’s sequel.
Nickels being polished. And if you ante up, I’ll match you. That’s a promise.
Totally made me smile this morning, Seth. Sorry, was “morose” supposed to do that?
Some people have darker sides than others. You should view that as a compliment coming from the fella who wrote this post.
Mother Goose may be morose
but fairy tales are Grimm.
Loved your post, Seth. Thank you for mentioning my little poem.
Oh… yes… that’s funny.
Thanks for being so faithful here. You’re work is good stuff and keeps pushing me (and others) along.
The lives of the heart,
silent, spring.
And no birds sing
purple rain.
(Jane Hirshfield, Rachel Carson, Craig Waddell, Martin Sexton/Prince)
A walk between heaven and home
ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone.
(Burghild Nina Holzer, Michael Jackson)
Don’t count the rainy days;
bridge over troubled water.
(Michael Martin Murphy, Simon & Garfunkel)
Seth, this is a great challenge and I’ll be churning and turning it over in my mind! Nursery Rhymes used to be my ‘bread and butter’ as a teacher in my former life! So will really enjoy splashing around in this last puddle of August. Thanks so much for featuring my piece here (and for fixing my typo)
I feel honored to have a place here this week alongside Maureen. I’ll be back – need to move my son to the dorms of RIT first! I know it’s still August, but I’m really hoping for a rain free experience for this!
Thank you, Donna. The feeling is mutual.
(water, no rain); my two cents here:
The Book of God
Speaks of The Beloved Disciple
Who had a Magnificent Obsession
And a habit of praying for strangers.
Perhaps he used Night Lights,
Holding Crucial Conversations
Over breakfast
(thanks to the Brave Little Toaster)
On his way to Baptizing—
as he had been called to do.
He’d heard about all
Those Rumors of Water–
And you need you
Some water
If you’re gonna be baptizing.
(Wangerin, Moore, Lotz
Jordan, Theroux
Patterson et al
Disch and of course,
LL Barkat)
Jody, great work here. So glad you played along.
Was it raining rain on the old man…or booze? Sounds like a tough night either way.
Dave,
That’s hilarious. Actually, some of my research indicates that older folks interpret the rain as “drunkenness” in that poem. Maybe that’s the lesson in rhyme for our children?
I keep meaning to bounce over to your piece from last week and tell you good work. Alas, I will say it here… good work.
Well, I had to try the challenge using just nursery rhyme titles and no other words.
Rub a Dub Dub
Oh, dear! What can the matter be?
It’s raining, it’s pouring,
London Bridge is falling down.
Eeper Weeper!
Bobby Shafto’s gone to sea.
*
One misty, moisty morning
five little speckled frogs
row, row, row your boat
over the water
to market, to market.
*
Poor Mary!
My grandmother sent
the girl in the lane
over the water,
up hill and down dale.
Up street, and down street
this is the way
for every evil under the sun.
*
If all the seas were one sea,
I would if I could
croak, said the toad.
“Up street, and down street
this is the way
for every evil under the sun.”
Boy isn’t that the truth…
Good work here. As usual.
Here you go, Seth. It’s neither book spine nor nursery rhyme. More like Jaded Adjuster Angst.
The cause, it’s hardly proximate.
Why pin the blame
for a hapless shopper’s
improbable demise against
the swollen chest of a big box
retail giant, guilty only of selling
a soft drink just begging
to be spilled by a string-pulling
toddler only half its super-size
to his overindulgent
bedraggled mother nursing
paper cuts from a sharp-edged
collection of coupons.
Must the state of Texas gulp
down ten-gallons of culpability
for failing to tie more tightly
the apron strings
like a New York nanny?
Who breached whose duty
when the guest
becomes an invitee?
Come now. The old man’s snoring
is hyperbolic at best, see
how his eyelids twitch,
squeezed together
in this self-imposed state
of pseudo-catatonic malingering.
How the ground rose to meet
an otherwise upright man
remains a mystery,
like the presence
of a solitary ice cube
underfoot on pooling asphalt
in the blazing Dallas sun.
Ignore for a moment
the hypnotic vibration
of the fleshy palate
against his wide-swinging uvula.
Shave that five o’clock shadow
and slap on a long auburn wig.
To the court’s wonder
and surprise, the apneatic man
taking up an overstuffed feather bed
turns out to be the voluptuous woman
in yellow polka dots and stiletto heels
who slipped on an errant grape
in Aisle 5 at Costco just last week.
Cue up the surveillance
video. Tape at 11.
Seth owes you a nickel. Maybe even a dime.
Maybe his paycheck
Lyla, love it.
Yes… maybe my paycheck.
Or at least a quarter.
Okay… I’m just now getting to this, but HOLY COW! Very nice.
There were moments in here where I was angry, moments where I was grossed out, and moments where I was surprised. I would say you’ve accomplished something special with this one.
I’m not sure I have a response in me. But I’m going to try.
Rain Rain, Go Away
I took my Son to School Today
He’s living in a brand new town!
Oh NO! Don’t let the Rain Fall Down!
He’ll study hard,
and Make New Friends (I know he’ll Keep the Old…)
But I can only wonder
Did he eat and is he cold?
Remembering that spider
Climbing up the water spout.
How his Chubby toddler arms
Would wash the spider OUT!
There is an hollow Hole
In the middle of the ground
And the green grass of longing
Grows high and all around….
(Not what I was planning; but what is there about the week you move your son to college goes exactly as planned other than does he have enough socks?)