Children's Poem: "I Love Bugs"

Children Love Bugs!

Why are children so fascinated with bugs?

Is it because they see them as something amazing, something funny, or just something cute that's even smaller than they are?

Or could it be because they see bugs as little "friends" who are fun and, like them, just glad to be alive.

One summer day at my daughter's home, I glanced out the kitchen window into the backyard, trying to see my four grandchildren.

There must have been a dozen kids out there! They were all huddled around the slide on the old swing set, waving their arms around and cheering.

They were obviously having a great time with something and yet, my four-year-old grandson, also a part of said crowd, was crying.  I went out to see what was wrong.

I walked over, gave Colin a hug, and asked him what was wrong.  He sniffled, wiped his nose on my T-shirt and said, "We're having slug races, Gram, and Sammy, my slug, stopped racing. Sammy won't go AT ALL, even when I poke him!  (sniffle-sniffle)"

I went over to the slide, a METAL slide, mind you, and I could see right away what the problem was.  Sammy was so slow, he'd gotten himself stuck to the hot slide.

Without going into the morbid "why", I suggested that Colin should probably give Sammy a rest and we would find another slug to race with. While he ran off to start the search, I removed little Sammy's fried body from the slide.

Today, I want to share a bug poem, written for Colin -- from a child's point of view.

I Love Bugs 

by CJ Heck

I love teeny tiny ants
and itchy bitsy fleas,
spiders, big and little,
and grouchy grumble bees,

butterflies that flutter by,
and beetles when they run
from marching caterpillars.
I think bugs are fun!

Skeeters like to bite me,
but lightning bugs, they don’t,
and flies that get inside the house
could bite, but they won’t.

Silly racing centipedes
and slow and slimy slugs
are my very special favorites.
I love bugs.


("I Love Bugs" from the book, "Me Too Preschool Poetry", by CJ Heck)

More Poems from the Book

“A writer soon learns that easy to read is hard to write.” ~CJ Heck

Children's Poem: "Teaching Grampa to Selfie"

Teaching Grampa to Selfie

This week, I made a comment on my Facebook page and mentioned that I've seen a few selfies where you can see right up someone's nostrils, including their creepy nose hairs.

My writing friend, Rusty Daily, saw the comment and decided we should co-write a funny children's poem about it (we've co-written children's poetry for years).

One of us writes a few lines, then the other one, and the poem continues to go back and forth as many times as it takes, until the poem is finished to our satisfaction.

Teaching Grampa to Selfie

a Poem, by Rusty Daily and CJ Heck

I taught my old grampa to selfie
(but I've got to teach him agin).
He never aimed my new camera
so none of the pictures were him!

The first time he clicked it, he broke it.
It made such an awful loud sound,
whizzes and whirrs and then buzzing.
(it was sad to see grampa frown).

I waited and watched as they fixed it.
The man in the shop shook his head.
"What IDIOT broke this poor camera?"
Was all that the grouchy man said.

I tried for way over an hour
for grampa to just click and smile.
(Learning my grampa to selfie
is sure going to take me awhile).

When we finally got a good picture
his nose hairs were all sticking out.
I guess grampas aren't s'posed to take selfies ...
so I'm done here -- Over and Out!

Rusty and Kathleen Daily

Thank you, Rusty-friend! 
~Big hugs, CJ







“A writer soon learns that easy to read is hard to write.” ~CJ Heck

Children's Poem: "To a Snowflake ..."

To a Snowflake ...

by CJ Heck

Hello there, little snowflake.
Where are all your friends?
Should I expect a lot of them
before the morning ends?

I love it when you visit me
and you all fall down together.
I get dressed to visit you,
toasty warm in cold, cold weather.

It's fun the way you all pile up
outside in my back yard.
I like to roll you in a ball
and make a snowman -- it's not hard.

Or maybe, I will build a fort.
All my friends will come and play,
and if you plan to stay awhile,
we'll come see you every day!

Sometimes, I make snow angels
and their arms and legs look puffy,
but I can only do that IF
you come down light and fluffy.

Could I ask you guys a favor?
White is nice, but nothing's duller ...
Could you all please -- just one time --
come down in hearts, or colors?

[from the book, "Barking Spiders 2", by CJ Heck]

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“A writer soon learns that easy to read is hard to write.” ~CJ Heck

Who is CJ Heck, Really?

Hi, I'm CJ/

Whether you are an Author, Reader, a Contributing Writer, or a combination, and now My Friend, I thank you.  It's been a pleasure and I'm glad I 'know' you.

Most of you know me as a Blogger. I have three different blogs and I invite articles, short stories and poetry for all of them.

Occasionally, I even write something myself, when I have the time, so you might also know me as a Writer and Poet.

Or maybe I've done some editing for you on an article, a short story, or book, so you know me as a Freelance Editor.

Something else I love to do is help Authors promote their books.  I do that here on CJ's Writer Thoughts, and I also proudly promote books written by Vietnam veterans on my other blog, Memoirs From Nam.

Authors need all the help they can get -- hiring a Book Publicist is often just too expensive and not something that fits into most budgets. As a senior citizen, that's true for me, as well.

Now, that being said ....

Every so often, I like to remind everyone that I Am Also An Author ... I've written three books for children and two for adults.

Children’s Books:  

Barking Spiders and Other Such Stuff
(The first book, published in 2000)

Midwest Book Review:
child's perspective. Often funny, sometimes introspective, always honest, these poems form a brilliant introduction for young readers to the magic of poetry and rhyme."

OHIOana Quarterly:
"If children could write poetry about the things in their lives, it might not sound like these poems ... but the feelings they experience are sure to be familiar, as they listen to or read this collection. Insights and thoughts about belly buttons, toe jam, Bandaids, and passing gas will cause chuckles from young readers and their parents." (Barbara Maslekoff)

Poetry Today Online:
"Well, it's time for a little fun, folks. Put away all those boring grownup books and let's sit down and read Barking Spiders and Other Such Stuff. This is CJ Heck's first book of children's poetry and it is a delight!"

Read a Preview

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Barking Spiders 2 

(the sequel book to Barking Spiders)

Nominated for the 2011 Cybils Children's Book Award in Poetry 

In this long-awaited sequel to her first Barking Spiders book, CJ Heck continues her journey to help children experience life through poetry with her unique blend of humor, insight, sensitivity, and with an understanding that, like adults, children wish to make sense of the world they live in. 

And when it still doesn't make sense? Well, she helps them see that's okay, too, because it doesn't always make sense.

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Me Too! Preschool Poetry
(Poetry for the little ones, to get them started)

Preschool: that brief period of childhood when everything is either black, or white, a time of Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny, and the grey area in between black and white hasn't yet begun. 

It's the last true age of innocence, when mommy and daddy are the good guys, pretending is a profession, and bugs are just tiny friends. 

Wouldn't it be fun to have a grownup friend who understands, someone to say it's okay if the world doesn't always make sense? CJ Heck is that grownup friend. She's been entertaining children and grownups with her poetry since 1999 through her website, and then with the release of her first book "Barking Spiders (and Other Such Stuff)" in 2000. 

Sit back, get comfy, and read "Me Too!" with a child-- it's time to get back in touch with your own inner child again and remember, remember, remember ...

Read a Preview

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Comments:

"You are one of the most gifted children's poets I have ever read!"
~ Todd-Michael St. Pierre 

"CJ, You are every primary teachers dream come true. I have found that rhyming words are important for six year olds when learning to spell and read. I love your poetry! You never cease to amaze me."
~Joyce Bowling 

"How I would have loved to have been a child in your world. Excellent doesn't even come close ..."
~Georg Mateos 

"CJ, your work is not only brilliant, it is a joy to the spirit and restores youth to our hearts. You have a gift for writing what kids think and feel. Thank you CJ."
~ E T Waldron 

"CJ, You fly everyone away on daydreams and wishes, boo-boos and bats, frog legs and monkeys, and old circus clowns. I can't think of a single children's poet(and I've read a few) that has the ability to marry the children's poem with a life's lesson like you do and keep it fun. You need to go on Oprah. Yes, my dear, CJ, you fly."
~Rusty Daily 

"I love your childrens poetry. It's like you revert to the child you're writing about. Sometimes I wish I could go back and make it all different. Your poems help me see what I missed. "
~K. Mulroney 

"My dear CJ, you have a heart of innocence in your adorable, creative writes!"
~Karla Dorman 

"Your work reminds me of Dr. Suess, sincerely. "
~Andy Turner 

"There is a sweet child residing in your heart."
~Victor Buhagiar 

"What a uniquely sensitive mind you have, CJ. The children must adore your writes. I know I sure do."
~Richard Cederberg 

"I love how you get into a child's heart with your writing, CJ."
~Sheila G. 

"You teach simple truths in such a childlike manner. They are delightful to read."
~J.M. 

"Your children's poem, To A Baby Firefly, is a winner nursery rhyme and it belongs in the classic children's bedtime story books."
~Gloria Buono Daly 

"You make me wish I was a kid again."
~Brett Moore 

"Your inner child always shines through in your work."
~Joseph OneLight

Adult Books:  

Anatomy of a Poet

(Poetry for Grownups)

The Story Behind the Book:

"There is a brokenness out of which comes the unbroken. There is a shatteredness out of which blooms the unshatterable. There is a sorrow beyond all grief, which leads to joy. And a fragility out of whose depths emerges strength. There is a hollow space too vast for words through which we pass with each loss, out of whose darkness we are sanctioned into being." ~ Bri Maya Tiwari

That quote describes not only my life, but the poetry in "Anatomy of a Poet".

One of six children, I grew up in a small Ohio town and married my high school sweetheart at nineteen. A Vietnam War widow at twenty, I went on to marry twice more. I made a lot of choices, some good, some not so good, but as my poem, "Choices", ends,

"... at least I made choices. How sad for those who merely hitchhike along, never daring to choose at all."

"Anatomy of a Poet" was written over a period of nearly forty years. The poetry is rich with memoir, humor and, at times, it is sensual in nature.

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Comments:

"I have known C.J. Heck as an very talented author for well over a year now. Her words are enlightening and charismatic to people of all ages. It has been a privilege and honor knowing her and reading her prolific pen. I highly recommend her work to all."
~Janet Caldwell (COO Inner Child Press) 

"Your poems are a breath of fresh air."
~John Domino 

"I purchased Anatomy of a Poet today...I could hardly put it down! The poetry is filled with a pleasant mix of emotions. I encourage everyone to buy this book. Love it!"
~Joyce Bowling 

"CJ, I thoroughly enjoyed your book! Too often poetry is written so abstractly that it leaves the reader with more questions as to the point of the writing, rather than the insight, or inspiration. This is NOT true of your poetic verses. Your words are indeed poignant, resonating feelings to the reader intended by you, the writer. Words from the heart that penetrate the soul!"
~Sharla Shultz 

"You are one talented writer."
~Lynn Barry 

"I am not a poetry critic, so I cannot compare CJ's poetry with others, evaluate her mastery of the language use, or classify her to any particular school of poetry. But having read the poems I felt something. The messages she conveys are clear and direct. She does not go through mental elaboration and her poetry touches the heart. Reading her poems made me feel nostalgic and longing at the same time -- as if nostalgia and expectation are one and the same."
~Eleftheria Egel 

"My kind of poetry ... wonderful, marvelous poetry that touches on the realities of life."
~Jack Henry Kraven 

"This is my kind of poetry. Direct, beautifully expressed and without a hint of pretension."
~Allison Cassidy 

"CJ, you have a beautiful way of writing that obviously can get in touch with people and provoke them to think about what you are saying, which is a very difficult skill to grasp. Congratulations on the amazing work."
~Lyrael Myrna 

"CJ is predominately viewed as a writer of works for children, but CJ now carries over her approach to more adult themes. In doing so, she presents a profound world that is deeply sad, incredibly humorous and sometimes intimate."
~Joseph Daly

Bits and Pieces from a Writer's Soul
(A Collection of 22 Short Stories and Flash Fiction)

Publisher's Review:

"A collection of twenty short, and flash fiction stories by published poet, writer, blogger and author, CJ Heck. 

She's been entertaining children, adults, and schools for over a decade with her humor, insight, unique perspective of life, and the human heart, through her poetry. Now, she does it again through her fiction.

Many of the stories have nostalgic themes, others, CJ's own special blend of humor and sensitivity. Covered are many subjects, such as, finding a headless body near a sewer drain in the city, internet dating, and a grandfather and grandson teaching each other about life and love, while feeding pigeons in the park. One of CJ's personal favorites has a surprise ending, one you won't expect."

Read an Excerpt
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Comments:

"CJ's writing ability is a testament to talent and passion. Her ability to craft words into emotion and movement is remarkable."
~Lexy Page (Owner/Freelance Photographer at GA Page Photography) 

"CJ is a writer that comes through as a great communicator but you also have a strong feeling of friendship with her and her pen. She touches your heart in special ways. She makes you feel like you have lived this story."
~James McCraney (Owner, James McCraney Financial, LLC) 

"I loved this book. These are a very clean short stories of a few pages each. When finished, I felt like I knew the writer as if she was a relative or a neighbor, definitely one that I would like to see often. She has a knack for pouring out her soul on paper and it makes you feel as if you have known her for a long time. I would love to meet her in person some day."
~Susan East 

"Might I bow to you in respect for the abilities your pen contains."
~Phillip William Allen 

"CJ, what a gift you have. Every word imparts a vivid image that fills the hearts and souls of your readers with a remembering. Yes, it's the littlest moments that you paint so well and spell out with glowing simplicity."
~Adryan Rotica 

"CJ, You write so well. You are an ispiration."
~Laura Mayer 

"You will enjoy the eclectic stories in "Bits and Pieces" displaying CJ's vivid and wide-ranging imagination. Writers, like CJ Heck, should be allowed to live one hundred fifty years. How else could they reveal all they have to offer? 

Do yourself a favor and read all of CJ's work. She is at the peak of a mountain of talented writers. She writes to the souls of all men, women, and children."
~ Russell Daily 

"You are such a natural and spontaneous writer, who freely gives of her soul to her readers. You never fail to amuse and entertain with your brilliant and witty writes. You have a razor sharp mind and acute awareness of what makes people tick, or tock."
~ Peter Paton 

"Amazing talent."
~Kimmy Van Kooten 

"An incredible writer."
~Rhonda Galizia

“A writer soon learns that easy to read is hard to write.” ~CJ Heck

Children's Poems: For Bedtime

Angel Sleeping

There are angels all around us, complete with halos and wings. If you don't believe what I tell you, go into a child's bedroom and watch them sleep ... ~CJ Heck

Sleepytime Prayer

by CJ Heck

God bless my bedroom.
God bless my bed.
God bless the pillow
where I lay my head.

God bless my mommy.
Bless my dad, too.
They chase away monsters
that live in my room.

God bless my brother.
Bless my dog and my cat,
and, OK, my sister,
(even though she's a brat).

Thanks God, and Amen.
Now, up off my knees.
Wait! I forgot something.
God bless me, too, please.


("Sleepytime Prayer" from the book, "Barking Spiders 2 (sequel)", by CJ Heck)

More Poems from the Book

Bedtime Prayer

by CJ Heck

Now I lay me down in bed.
All my prayers and night-nights said.

Snuggle bunny, teddy bear,
toasty blankie, all are here.

Out with the light
so dreams will come.

Thank you, God.
Now ... where's my thumb?
(Night-Night)


("Bedtime Prayer" from the book, "Me Too Preschool Poetry", by CJ Heck)

More Poems from the Book

Night-Night

by CJ Heck

Night-night moon.
Night-night stars.
Night-night noisy
trucks and cars.

Night-night sand box.
Night-night toys.
Night-night other
girls and boys.

Night-night mom.
Night-night dad.
Night-night Boogie Man
who's not bad.

It's time to go to sleep now,
most all my night nights said.
Night-night blankie.
Night-night bed.


["Night-Night" from the book, "Barking Spiders and Other Such Stuff", by CJ Heck)

More Poems from the Book






“A writer soon learns that easy to read is hard to write.” ~CJ Heck

Now I'm Three and I Know ...

CJ at Three

Pretty much all of the honest truth-telling there is in the world is done by children. ~Oliver Wendell Holmes

A couple of years ago, I spent weeks trying to come up with an idea for one last children's poem so I could finish a preschool poetry book that I wanted to self-publish.

I was having no luck at all ... that is, until I started thinking about my eleven grandchildren when they were about three years old. Children try so hard to make sense out of the world around them.

One by one, all of the funny, goofy, things they used to say began to pop into my mind.

Gratefully, I started to write ...

This poem sounds best when you read it out loud in your best 'three-year old' voice. Oh, and when you get to the long run-on sentence, say it fast! 

I would give just about anything to hear you read it ...

Now I'm Three and I Know ...

by CJ Heck

I know never touch fire, that’s hot,
but I can touch ice, 'cause it’s not,
and puppies are soft and kitties are too,
(so’s most of the stuff moms and dads give to you).

I know never tell people they’re fat.
(It will hurt them, if I do that).
I know rocks aren’t for throwing at others
but it’s OK to throw pillows at brothers.

I know daddy says swears I can’t say,
and I have to wear clothes out to play,
... 'cause one time I went outside naked and Mrs. Johnson saw me and she called Mommy and Mommy came outside and got mad (sniffle) and she yelled at me (sniff-sniff) and I had to sit in a chair for a time out and ...

I know cookies smell better than cheese,
and to get one, I have to say please.
I know how to go pee in the potty,
but not in my pants, 'cause that’s naughty.

I know flowers don't needs any feet,
and no dessert, if I don’t eat my meat.
I know I got to blow boogers in tissue,
and don't wipe off where ladies kiss you.

When I wake mommy up, never holler,
pennies are not more than a dollar,
and scissors are never for cutting my hair,
(the barber does that, but I hate going there).

I laugh 'cause it's better than cry,
and you can’t squeeze a worm, it will die.
I know Daddy will laugh when I burp,
and Mommy’s kiss helps if I hurt.

I know SO many things, now I'm three.
This stuff helps me be a good ME.
I know lots more than I did when I’m two,
all the stuff that I can and I can’t do.


Hugs from the little kid in me ... to the little kid in you.
~ CJ

From the Book, Me Too! Preschool Poetry








"A writer soon learns that easy to read is hard to write." ~CJ Heck

The Cookie Jar Adventure

Raiding the Cookie Jar

I grew up in the days when the Nickels Bread truck would make home deliveries every Saturday morning. The bread man always seemed to come at the perfect time, too. The cartoons were on TV, we kids were up, and mommy and daddy weren't ...

All six of us would meet the driver at the door, our mouths watering, deciding what and how much to choose, from his huge tray of baked goods.

Donuts were always a favorite and it didn't matter what kind, although my favorite was always the creme sticks.

We knew daddy loved pecan rolls, so we always got a package of those for him -- lucky for dad, we didn't care for the nuts on top.

Now days, bread trucks and Saturday morning deliveries are a thing of the past and children don't even realize what they are missing.

But I'd be willing to bet there are a few who wake up before mommy and daddy and they secretly raid the cookie jar ...

The Cookie Jar

A Preschool Adventure
by CJ Heck

Wakey-wakey from our beds,
thoughts of cookies in our heads.

Mom's and Daddy's eyes are closed.
(They are sleeping. They won't know).

Hurry-hurry, on the double!
If they wake, we'll be in trouble!

Blankies, pillows, on the floor.
Squeaky-squeaky goes the door.

Shhh, shhh, tippy-toe.
To the kitchen we will go.

Sneaky-sneaky down the hall,
bare feet creeping 'long the wall.

C'mon, Sissy, it's not far,
there it is, the cookie jar!

I can't reach it, I'm too small.
Let's get a chair to make us tall.

Shuffle-shuffle, scooty chair,
pushy-pushy, almost there.

Clinky-clinky goes the top,
hold it tight, or it will drop!

Giggle, giggle, tee-hee-hee,
two for YOU, and two for ME.

Uh oh, Sissy, turn around ...
Mom and Daddy. We've been found.

Peeky-peeky, Mom and Dad,
are you angry? Are you mad?

Whisper-whisper, over there ...
they want to know if we will share!

“A writer soon learns that easy to read is hard to write.” ~CJ Heck

Why Do Poets Write Poetry?

Poetry Isn't Easy

A friend once asked me why I write poetry.

She had a creepy look on her face that told me she secretly equated writing poetry with juggling snakes, or worse, licking a germy fly swatter. 

Well, maybe the look on her face wasn't quite that bad, but her expression did remind me of someone sucking on a lemon wedge.

I don't know why poetry gets such a bad rap. I write fiction, non-fiction, flash fiction, memoirs, essays, and three blogs, and I can tell you honestly that poetry is much harder to write.

When you write most anything else, you have a lot of leeway -- pages and pages to tell a story.  Not so, when writing poetry. A poem has to be condensed, without straying from the main theme, and it also usually has a beginning, middle and end.

I can only speak for myself, but I'm reasonably sure other poets would understand. Maybe they can't explain the 'why they write it' any better than I, but they can certainly understand the love for writing poetry.

A poet writes poetry because they love poetry.  It is a challenge -- and not everyone can do it.

While I'm convinced writing poetry is not a disease, it could be called an addiction -- and with no twelve-step program for recovery.

Based on my friend's question, I asked myself, "Why do I write poetry?" I mean, other than the obvious, which is that I can't NOT write poetry. If that's an addiction, well then, I enjoy my addiction. In fact, I actually revel in it.

(You can often find me scribbling thoughts and ideas wherever I am, on whatever I can find, if I get a sudden inspiration.)

To be honest, I probably should have explained to my friend that for me to hold back a poem would be like trying to hold in a sneeze. When I finally let out, it just feels good. Again, other poets would understand what I'm talking about.

I simply explained to my friend that there are thoughts and ideas down inside that I have to get out. They're uncomfortable where they are.

I told her to think of it like having a mosquito bite you can't quite reach. When you finally find someone to scratch it, it just feels good.

So I will continue to live with my addiction, no matter what friends, or anyone else, may think.

But Geez-Louise, I've got to make this short.  I feel a poetic sneeze coming on and it's gonna feel so good when I finally let it out ...


CJ's Poetry for Children:
Barking Spiders (and Other Such Stuff)
Barking Spiders 2 (sequel)
Me Too! Preschool Poetry

Poetry for Adults:
Anatomy of a Poet


“A writer soon learns that easy to read is hard to write.” ~CJ Heck

Swinging Song

Baby in a Swing

When my grandchildren were tiny, I had the cutest baby swing. It was molded plastic and it had a safety bar across the front to hold them in. 

I hung my swing inside a screened-in porch, so mosquitoes wouldn't be a nuisance if the baby fell asleep --like they usually did.

One afternoon as I was swinging a grandson, I started to hum to the gentle motion of the swing.  He started to nod and as the motion of the swing slowed, I also adjusted my humming softer and slower to keep with the motion of the swing.

Later, I added words to the melody and what resulted is the following song.   I miss those days ...

Listen to Swinging Song

Swinging Song

Bye oh bye up, 

bye oh bye down. 

bye oh bye feet, 

way off the ground.

Swing-ing, swing-ing, 

I love swing-ing. 

Bye oh bye high, 

bye oh bye low. 

Bye oh bye faster, 

look at me go. 

Swing-ing, swing-ing, 

I love swing-ing. 

Bye oh bye fly-ing 

up to the sky. 

Bye oh bye push me 

higher than high. 

Swing-ing, swing-ing, 

I love swing-ing. 

Bye oh bye eyes 

are closing now 

bye oh bye head 

is nodding down 

Swing-ing, swing-ing, 

I love swing-ing. 

(whispering as  swing slows down)

Bye oh bye gent-ly, 

bye oh bye slow. 

Bye oh bye, sh-h-h-h-h . . . 

to    sleep    I    go. 

Swing-ing, swing-ing, 

I 

love

swing-ing.

[From the Book, Me Too! Preschool Poetry, by CJ Heck]

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“A writer soon learns that easy to read is hard to write.” ~CJ Heck

Daddy's Boots

Daddy's Boots 

Daddy left his boots for me 

and here I have to stay, 

'cause daddy is a soldier. 

I'm in charge while he's away. 

In daddy's boots, I can pretend

that now I am the man 

who does the things that daddy does 

as only daddy can. 

I help with little brother, 

I help with folding clothes, 

I help to set the table, 

and I hope daddy knows

that every day I wear his boots 

so I'll feel close to him 

and I try and keep mom happy, 

till he comes home again. 

I know that he's protecting us, 

that's what soldiers do, 

but his boots are way too big for me, 

and my job being him is, too. 

When is daddy coming home? 

I miss him all the time. 

 Mom said daddy's proud of me 

... and his boots fit me just fine.

[From CJ's Book, Barking Spiders 2]

Buy at Amazon 

“A writer soon learns that easy to read is hard to write.” ~CJ Heck

The Reality of Rules

I remember one of the hardest things about growing up was learning all of the rules of ... growing up.

Things were always either black or white, good or bad and, to parents and the rest of the world, it seemed everything was either right, or wrong.

To this child, there really was no grey area, that safe place in between the extremes that we all enter as we grow older.

The way I learned best, of course, was through listening and minding my parents. But I also I learned by testing the very rules they imposed and finding out there were consequences for breaking them. (I spent a lot of time thinking about rules in the "naughty chair").

From a child's vantage point, grownups have it easy. They can stay up as late as they want. They don't have to go to school and sit in a classroom. They can do anything they want to do AND they hold the key to just about everything in a kid's life, too -- what they should eat and when; what they should wear; where they can go; when to come inside; when to take a bath; when to go to bed; when to get up; when to pick up toys or clean their room; even what they can watch on TV.

I remember growing up couldn't come fast enough, just so I wouldn't have any rules ... anyway, I wrote this poem from my inner child's point of view:

Rules

Parents sure have lots of rules,
things to do and not do.
I’ll be glad when I get big
and growing up is gone through.

I won’t need a dentist
or a barber for my hair,
and I’ll go buy a chocolate cake
that I won’t have to share.

Maybe, I’ll stay up all night,
eat junk and watch TV.
If I want, I’ll sleep all day.
No more rules for me!

“How will you get up for work?
You might get fired”, Mom said.
“You won’t make any money
by sleeping late in bed.”

Why would I need money?
Who needs money anyway?
Rules are bad. When I grow up
I’ll do fun things all day.

"How will you pay your rent?
How will you buy a car?
How would you buy your grownup clothes?
(you’ll be bigger than you are) .

You’ll have to buy the food you eat.
You’ll have to have a phone.
How will you pay your heating bill,
‘cause surely you’ll have a home?"

I hadn’t thought of all of that.
I can’t do that stuff!
It doesn’t sound like fun at all
and I just don’t know enough.

Mom said as I get bigger,
the rules get bigger, too,
but if we start at my age,
it's not so hard to do.

She said, "People grow like houses,
step by step, and brick by brick.
That’s the way we all grow up
and having rules is part of it."


There's an irony here.  We're finally grownups.  Now we miss those days of childhood innocence with its gentle, black or white, good or bad, right or wrong rules ...

(From the book, "Barking Spiders 2", by CJ Heck)

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Who the Heck is CJ Heck?

Who the heck is CJ Heck?

With a bored sigh, you probably think, "Oh, she writes children's poetry ... just like hundreds of other children's poets."

My Inner Child

I've been told that my poetry IS different.  I don't write what I think children should read, or what I think they want to read.

I write poetry from a child's point of view, (probably because my own inner child is doing the writing), and it addresses many different issues that children have.

My inner child remembers what children think and wonder about in the world around them. What were we frightened of? What did we think was funny, sad, puzzling, or scary, and what made us most angry?

I love writing all kinds of poetry, but my favorite is, and always will be, poetry for children.

There is nothing as powerful as the truth and gentle honesty of a child. They have such an innocent view of their world and surroundings, sometimes with thought-provoking insight. That is what I love writing about, and from their point of view.

Please visit Barking Spiders Poetry. 

Pull up a chair, get comfy, put a child on your lap, and have a look.

I think you'll be surprised.  I'm really not like the other children's poets 'out there' ... and, who knows, just maybe you'll get reacquainted with your own inner child again.

 
~Hugs to all, 

CJ

"A writer soon learns that easy to read is hard to write." ~CJ Heck

One Summer Day ...

Fresh Lemonade

With my coffee this morning, I was thinking about one day when I still lived in Pennsylvania.  It was summer and I was driving home from Walmart. 

A few blocks from home, I noticed a small homemade lemonade stand in the grass along the sidewalk with two kids sitting in folding chairs.

I don't know if you're old enough to remember, but it was built the same way everyone used to make bookcases, back in the 60's to hold a stereo system.  

You took two cinder blocks and piled one on top of the other at each end, and then you put a wide board across the top.  You could make a second layer on top of that, too, if you wanted it higher.

Anyway, the kids had hand-printed a sign and it was taped to the front of the board. It was perfect for the little stand, printed in crooked capital letters with crayon -- the 'N' and 'E's' in the word LEMONADE were printed backwards and it was adorable.  I couldn't resist. I pulled over and bought a glass.  

They took their business seriously.  The girl held the plastic cup, her brother poured the lemonade, and I played my part as a satisfied customer. I drank ALL of my lemonade, even though there wasn't nearly enough sugar in it ...

I couldn't stop thinking about the little lemonade stand and its entrepreneurs. There was a poem in there somewhere, and here is what I came up with.  Oh, and there's a little twist at the end ...

The Lemonade Stand

by CJ Heck

Get your ice cold glass of lemonade!
Hurry, 'fore it's gone.
We made it just this morning.
See the table that it's on?

We promise that you'll like it
and there's sugar in it, too --
not like it was the other day
when mom and dad said "Ewwwww."

Get your ice cold glass of lemonade!
Boy, grownups sure are funny --
they smile a lot at little kids
who are trying to make money.

Thank you, ma'am, and thank you, sir,
you've helped us out a bunch.
(Sissy, let's go make some more.
It's almost time for lunch).

Get your ice cold glass of lemonade!
Twenty-five cents a glass!
(We've got to make more money
and we've got to make it fast).

Daddy said it wouldn't work,
that people wouldn't stop,
they'd hurry right on past us
and then they'd laugh a lot.

One last glass of lemonade!
This was so much fun!
Let's get this table put away
and then we've got to run.

Sissy look, it's snowing!
But that will be all right.
Now we have money for presents
and Santa Claus comes tonight ...

Just thinking about that day, makes my cheeks ache from the lemon-sour pucker.


"A writer soon learns that easy to read is hard to write." ~CJ Heck

Children and Rules

Playing Dress Up

I remember one of the hardest things about being a child was learning the rules of growing up.  To a kid, things were always black or white, good or bad, and right or wrong.

The way I learned best was by listening to and minding my parents, yes, but I also I learned by testing the very rules they imposed, and then finding out that there were consequences.  I spent a lot of time thinking about rules in the "naughty chair" ...

From a child's vantage point, grownups had it easy.  They could stay up as late as they wanted.  They didn't have to go to school every day and sit in a classroom.

They could do anything they wanted to do and, most important, they held the key to just about everything in a kid's life, too -- what they should eat and when; what they should wear; where they could go; when to come inside; when to take a bath; when to go to bed; when they should get up; when to pick up toys or clean their room; even what they could watch on TV.

Growing up couldn't come fast enough. I could hardly wait not to have any more rules ...

Rules

by CJ Heck

Parents sure have lots of rules,
things to do and not do.
I’ll be glad when I get big
and growing up is gone through.

I won’t need a dentist
or a barber for my hair,
and I’ll go buy a chocolate cake
that I won’t have to share.

Maybe, I’ll stay up all night,
eat junk and watch TV.
If I want, I’ll sleep all day.
No more rules for me!

“How will you get up for work?
You might get fired”, Mom said.
“You won’t make any money
by sleeping late in bed.”

Why would I need money?
Who needs money anyway?
Rules are bad. When I grow up
I’ll do fun things all day.

"How will you pay your rent?
How will you buy a car?
How would you buy your grownup clothes?
(you’ll be bigger than you are) .

You’ll have to buy the food you eat.
You’ll have to have a phone.
How will you pay your heating bill,
‘cause surely you’ll buy a home?"

I hadn’t thought of all of that.
I can’t do that stuff.
It doesn’t sound like fun at all
and I don’t know enough.

Mom said as I get bigger,
the rules get bigger, too,
but when we start at my age,
growing up is fun to do.

She said, "People grow like houses,
step by step, and brick by brick.
That’s the way we all grow up
and having rules is part of it."

(from the book, "Barking Spiders 2")

Isn't it funny, how we long for the days of childish innocence and gentle rules ...


"A writer soon learns that easy to read is hard to write." ~CJ Heck

Preschool Poem: "Ten Little Piggies"

Ten Piggies

Ten Little Piggies

by CJ Heck 

Ten little piggies

standing in a line.

Mom and daddy told me

the piggies ALL are mine!

One by one we point to them.

Every piggy gets a name,

and then a place he goes to.

I really LOVE this game!

When Mommy sings the song,

I see ten piggies wiggle,

then when Mommy kisses them,

it makes me smile and giggle!

When the game is over,

we put them in warm socks.

Hmmm ... just how many piggies

does a mom and daddy gots? 

[From the book, "Me Too! Preschool Poetry", by CJ Heck]

"A writer soon learns that easy to read is hard to write." ~CJ Heck

Children's Halloween Poem: Mr. Bones

Mr. Bones

Mr. Bones

by CJ Heck

I was looking up some haunted stuff
because it’s Halloween.
I saw black cats, ghosts and witches,
and all of them looked mean.

Then I saw your picture.
You’re an awesome skeleton!
I read that we are just like you,
deep down beneath our skin.

Before you got turned inside out,
did you really look like me?
I think I'll call you Mr. Bones
since bones are all I see.

Two more questions, Mr. Bones ...
through your bones, I just see air.
When you walk do you make noise?
Are you cold because you’re bare?

Mr. Bones, oh Mr. Bones,
you have a scary mouth
and there’s nothing where your eyes should be.
You're so spooky wrong-side out!

Poor, poor Mr. Bones,
it’s sad you have no skin ...
I guess that I'd look frightening, too,
with my inside out, my outside in.


[From the book,  "Barking Spiders 2" (the sequel), by CJ Heck]


"A writer soon learns that easy to read is hard to write." ~CJ Heck

Children's Poem: "My Teddy Bear"

Little Girl and Teddy Bear

“There’s just something about a teddy bear that’s impossible to explain. When you hold one in your arms, you get a feeling of love, comfort and security. It’s almost supernatural.”- James Ownby

My Teddy Bear

by CJ Heck

My teddy bear was getting old.
I showed him to my dad.
The threads that made his mouth were gone.
My teddy bear looked so sad.

His round dark eyes were crooked.
His button nose hung down.
It made me cry to look at him,
my teddy bear, soft and brown.

A jagged hole showed stuffing
poking through along one side.
I had to hug him gently,
so it wouldn’t grow more wide.

When Dad showed him to Mommy,
she fixed him up like new.
His button nose was tight again.
His mouth was smiling, too.

His eyes were side by side
just like they used to be,
and when I sat and talked to him,
he looked right back at me.

She pushed the stuffing in again,
then sewed the hole with thread,
and when I went to sleep last night,
he was with me on my bed.

You know that someone loves you
by the little things they do.
Sometimes that means much more
than even saying “I love you.”


(from the book, Barking Spiders 2, by CJ Heck)

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"A writer soon learns that easy to read is hard to write." ~CJ Heck

Children's Poem: "Muddles"

The Joy of Finding a Mud Puddle

There are no seven wonders of the world in the eyes of a child. There are seven million. ~Walt Streightiff

While we try to teach our children all about life, our children teach us what life is all about.
~Angela Schwindt

I thought it would be nice to give children a poem today, especially since I predominantly write for children.

I feel safe in saying this poem is based on the childhoods of every adult, (male or female), all across the country.

I think everyone can remember the joy in finding a fresh mud puddle ... and the battle we lost to our self-control.

Oh, and if you would please read it out loud in your best four-year old voice ...

Muddles

by CJ Heck

Splashing-sploshing the mud in puddles
I will call what I made "muddles".

Run and jump, my feet go splishy.
Bare toes feel good, squashy-squishy.

Uh oh, muddles frickled my new pants!
I wiped it worse 'cause it’s on my hands!

Dripsy-drops are EVERY place!
It’s in my hair! It’s on my face!

It’s on my shirt, and there, and THERE!
Muddles got me everywhere!

Muddles bubbles in my smell.
Is it in BOTH holes? I just can’t tell,

and every twirl I go, it goes!
Ewww, here comes Mommy with the hose.

Mommy said just LOOK at me!
I can’t cause muddles are in my see,

but there's no muddles in my ears
and Mommy’s yells fill up my hears!

Now dripples are raining down, oh well,
it’s raining muddles off my smell.

My poor muddles ... now they’re moosh.
I slippered and sat right in the goosh.

The hose rains muddles off my thumb,
it's raining muddles from on my bum,

now there’s NOwhere muddles stayed
cause dripples made it go away.

I can’t play now, not here OR there
cause I’m in a corner on a chair

and Mommy’s washing ALL my clothes.
She said, "Why mud? I’ll never know."

Would I still have so many troubles
if I called it something else, not muddles?


(from the book, "Me Too!  Preschool Poetry", by CJ Heck)

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"A writer soon learns that easy to read is hard to write." ~CJ Heck