Poems by Shel Silverstein

All Poems Original Poems Translations

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Rain

I opened my eyes

And looked up at the rain

And it dripped into my head

And flowed into my brain

So pardon this wild crazy thing I just said

I'm just not the same since there's rain in my head.

I step very softly

I walk very slow

by Shel Silverstein

Boa Constrictor

Oh, I'm being eaten

By a boa constrictor,

A boa constrictor,

I'm being eaten by a boa constrictor,

And I don't like it--one bit.

Well, what do you know?

It's nibblin' my toe.

by Shel Silverstein

Hamlet As Told On The Street

Now Francisco and Bernardo, they was guardin’ the castle,

Leanin’ on their spears, not lookin’ for no hassle,

Havin’ themselves a brew or two,

When out in the night they hear woo-wooo-wooo.

And here comes this ghost, lookin’ ragged and rank,

In a rusty suit of armor, goin’ clank, clank, clank.

They say, "Hey, Mr. Ghost, are you our dear departed king?"

But the ghost don’t say one motherfuckin’ thing.

by Shel Silverstein

The Nap Taker

No - I did not take a nap -

The nap - took - me

off the bed and out the window

far beyond the sea,

to a land where sleepy heads

read only comic books

and lock their naps in iron safes

so that they can't get took.

by Shel Silverstein

Ticklish Tom

Did you hear 'bout Ticklish Tom?

He got tickled by his mom.

Wiggled and giggled and fell on the floor,

Laughed and rolled right out the door.

All the way to school and then

He got tickled by his friends.

Laughed till he fell off his stool,

Laughed and rolled right out of school

by Shel Silverstein

Dentist Dan

Nentis Nan, he's my man,

I go do im each chanz I gan.

He sicks me down an creans my teed

Wid mabel syrub, tick an' sweed,

An ten he filks my cavakies

Wid choclut cangy - I tink he's

The graygest nentis in the lan.

Le's hear free jeers for Nentis Nan.

by Shel Silverstein

Someone Ate The Baby

Someone ate the baby it's rather sad to say

Someone ate the baby so she won't be out to play

We'll never hear her whiney cry or have to feel if she is dry

We'll never hear her asking why why why someone ate the baby

Someone ate the baby it's absolutely clear

Someone ate the baby cause the baby isn't here

We'll give away her toys and clothes we'll never have to wipe her nose

Dad says that's the way it goes someone ate the baby

by Shel Silverstein

Vegetables

Eat a tomato and you'll turn red

(I don't think that's really so);

Eat a carrot and you'll turn orange

(Still and all, you never know);

Eat some spinach and you'll turn green

(I'm not saying that it's true

But that's what I heard, and so

I thought I'd pass it on to you).

by Shel Silverstein

The Hunter

I have fought against the poodle with his gory, deadly paws;

I have faced the fearsome kitten, wild and bony,

And somehow I've evaded the enormous chomping jaws

Of the frighteningly ferocious Shetland pony.

My triumph o'er the rabbit is now sung throughout the land,

And men still speak in whispers of the day

When, attacked by twelve mosquitoes, with my one unwounded hand,

I killed nine of them and dove the rest away.

by Shel Silverstein

Hector The Collector

Hector the Collector

Collected bits of string,

Collected dolls with broken heads

And rusty bells that would not ring. Bent-up nails and ice-cream sticks,

Twists of wires, worn-out tires,

Paper bags and broken bricks.

Old chipped vases, half shoelaces,

Gatlin' guns that wouldn't shoot,

by Shel Silverstein

Whatif

Last night, while I lay thinking here,

some Whatifs crawled inside my ear

and pranced and partied all night long

and sang their same old Whatif song:

Whatif I'm dumb in school?

Whatif they've closed the swimming pool?

Whatif I get beat up?

Whatif there's poison in my cup?

by Shel Silverstein

The Smoke Off

In the laid back California town of sunny San Rafael

Lived a girl named Pearly Sweetcake, you prob’ly knew her well.

She’d been stoned fifteen of her eighteen years and the story was widely told

That she could smoke 'em faster than anyone could roll.

Her legend finally reached New York, that Grove Street walk up flat

Where dwelt The Calistoga Kid, a beatnik from the past

With long browned lightnin’ fingers he takes a cultured toke

And says, "Hell, I can roll em faster, Jim, than any chick can smoke!"

by Shel Silverstein