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[tanglinunseen-blog]

To Catch a Fish by Eloise Greenfield

It takes more than a wish to catch a fish you take the hook you add the bait you concentrate and then you wait you wait     you wait but not a bite the fish don’t have an appetite so tell them what good bait you’ve got and how your bait can hit the spot this works a whole lot better than a wish if you really want to catch a fish

[tanglinunseen-blog]

The Dentist and the Crocodile by Roald Dahl

The crocodile, with cunning smile, sat in the dentist’s chair. He said, “Right here and everywhere my teeth require repair.” The dentist’s face was turning white. He quivered, quaked and shook. He muttered, “I suppose I’m going to have to take a look.” “I want you”, Crocodile declared, “to do the back ones first. The molars at the very back are easily the worst.” He opened wide his massive jaws. It was a fearsome sight— At least three hundred pointed teeth, all sharp and shining white. The dentist kept himself well clear. He stood two yards away. He chose the longest probe he had to search out the decay. “I said to do the back ones first!” the Crocodile called out. “You’re much too far away, dear sir, to see what you’re about. To do the back ones properly you’ve got to put your head Deep down inside my great big mouth,” the grinning Crocky said. The poor old dentist wrung his hands and, weeping in despair, He cried, “No no! I see them all extremely well from here!” Just then, in burst a lady, in her hands a golden chain. She cried, “Oh Croc, you naughty boy, you’re playing tricks again!” “Watch out!” the dentist shrieked and started climbing up the wall. “He’s after me! He’s after you! He’s going to eat us all!” “Don’t be a twit,” the lady said, and flashed a gorgeous smile. “He’s harmless. He’s my little pet, my lovely crocodile.”

[tanglinunseen-blog]

The Pig by Roald Dahl

In England once there lived a big And wonderfully clever pig. To everybody it was plain That Piggy had a massive brain. He worked out sums inside his head, There was no book he hadn’t read, He knew what made an airplane fly, He knew how engines worked and why. He knew all this, but in the end One question drove him round the bend: He simply couldn’t puzzle out What LIFE was really all about. What was the reason for his birth? Why was he placed upon this earth? His giant brain went round and round. Alas, no answer could be found, Till suddenly one wondrous night, All in a flash, he saw the light. He jumped up like a ballet dancer And yelled, “By gum, I’ve got the answer!” “They want my bacon slice by slice “To sell at a tremendous price! “They want my tender juicy chops “To put in all the butchers’ shops! “They want my pork to make a roast “And that’s the part’ll cost the most! “They want my sausages in strings! “They even want my chitterlings! “The butcher’s shop! The carving knife! “That is the reason for my life!” Such thoughts as these are not designed To give a pig great peace of mind. Next morning, in comes Farmer Bland, A pail of pigswill in his hand, And Piggy with a mighty roar, Bashes the farmer to the floor . . . Now comes the rather grizzly bit So let’s not make too much of it, Except that you must understand That Piggy did eat Farmer Bland, He ate him up from head to toe, Chewing the pieces nice and slow. It took an hour to reach the feet, Because there was so much to eat, And when he’d finished, Pig, of course, Felt absolutely no remorse. Slowly he scratched his brainy head And with a little smile, he said, “I had a fairly powerful hunch “That he might have me for his lunch. “And so, because I feared the worst, “I thought I’d better eat him first.”

[tanglinunseen-blog]

A Poison Tree by William Blake

I was angry with my friend; I told my wrath, my wrath did end. I was angry with my foe: I told it not, my wrath did grow. And I waterd it in fears, Night & morning with my tears: And I sunned it with smiles, And with soft deceitful wiles. And it grew both day and night. Till it bore an apple bright. And my foe beheld it shine, And he knew that it was mine. And into my garden stole, When the night had veild the pole; In the morning glad I see; My foe outstretched beneath the tree.

[tanglinunseen-blog]

My Father Growing Old (by Gilbert Koh)

I imagine him getting up early to make his own coffee. Reading the papers. No plans for the day. Turning on the radio a little louder than it has to be. Alone at home. Then the phone ringing, he goes to answer it and finds me on the line. His son, a grown man now, calling from another country, increasingly distant, more and more a stranger. The call cheers him up, nonetheless. He says, “How are you? How’s everything?” He really wants to know. He is my father, after all. He is growing old. But I don’t know where to start. I want to tell him that I love him and that I’m sorry I have to live my own life now. But these are not the things I know how to say from a distance. These are things I may never learn to say. So instead we speak of smaller daily things, and soon the brief connection between us will unmake itself, and expire.

[tanglinunseen-blog]

The Fist by Derek Walcott

The fist clenched round my heart loosens a little, and I gasp brightness; but it tightens again. When have I ever not loved the pain of love? But this has moved past love to mania. This has the strong clench of the madman, this is gripping the ledge of unreason, before plunging howling into the abyss. Hold hard then, heart. This way at least you live.

[tanglinunseen-blog]

Tell-Tale Heart by Edgar Allen Poe

I held the lantern motionless. The hellish thumping of the heart increased. It grew quicker and quicker, and louder and louder every instant. The old man's terror must have been extreme! It grew louder, I say, louder every moment! And now at the dead hour of the night, amid the dreadful silence of that old house, so strange a noise as this excited me to uncontrollable terror. Yet, for some minutes longer I stood still. But the beating grew louder, louder! I thought the heart must burst. And now a new anxiety seized me --the sound would be heard by a neighbour! The old man's hour had come! With a loud yell, I threw open the lantern and leaped into the room. He shrieked once --once only. In an instant I dragged him to the floor, and pulled the heavy bed over him.

 I then smiled gaily, to find the deed done. But, for many minutes, the heart beat on with a muffled sound. This, however, did not worry me; it would not be heard through the wall. At length, it ceased. The old man was dead. I removed the bed and examined the corpse. Yes, he was stone, stone dead. I placed my hand upon the heart and held it there many minutes. There was no pulse. He was stone dead. His eye would trouble me no more.

 If still you think me mad, you will think so no longer when I describe the wise precautions I to hide the body. The night waned, and I worked quickly, but in silence. First of all, I dismembered the corpse. I cut off the head and the arms and the legs.  I then took up three planks from the floor of the chamber, put the body underneath it. I then replaced the boards so cleverly, so cunningly, that no human eye --- not even his --- could have detected anything wrong --- ha! ha!

             When I was finished, it was four o'clock --- still dark as midnight. As the bell sounded the hour, there came a knocking at the street door. I went down to open it with a light heart, --- for what had I to fear? There entered three men, who introduced themselves as officers of the police. A shriek had been heard by a neighbour during the night; suspicion of foul play had been aroused; information had been lodged at the police office, and the officers had been sent to search the premises.

             I smiled --- for what had I to fear? I welcomed the gentlemen. The shriek, I said, was my own in a dream. The old man, I mentioned, was absent in the country. I took my visitors all over the house. In the enthusiasm of my confidence, I brought chairs into the room, and let them rest there, while I myself, in the wild audacity of my perfect triumph, placed my own seat upon the very spot beneath which lay the corpse of the victim.

 The officers were satisfied. My manner had convinced them. I was singularly at ease.

 They sat, and while I answered cheerily, they chatted of familiar things. But, before long, I felt myself getting pale and wished them gone. My head ached, and I fancied a ringing in my ears: but still they sat and still chatted.  No doubt I now grew very pale; --- but I talked more fluently, and with a heightened voice. Yet the sound increased - and what could I do? It was a low, dull, quick sound --- much such a sound as a watch makes when enveloped in cotton. I gasped for breath --- and yet the officers heard it not. I talked more quickly but the noise steadily increased. I arose and argued about nothing with violent gestures; but the noise steadily increased. Why would they not be gone? I paced the floor to and fro with heavy strides, as if angered by the observations of the men --- but the noise steadily increased. Oh God! what could I do? I foamed --- I raved --- I swore! I swung the chair upon which I had been sitting, and grated it upon the boards, but the noise arose over all and continually increased. It grew louder --- louder --- louder!

 And still the men chatted pleasantly, and smiled. Was it possible they heard not?

 Almighty God! - no, no! They heard! --- they suspected! - they knew! - they were making a mockery of my horror! --- this I thought, and this I think. But anything was better than this agony! I could bear those hypocritical smiles no longer! I felt that I must scream or die! --- and now --- again! ---hark! louder! louder! louder! louder! ---

             "Villains!" I shrieked, "I admit the deed! --- tear up the planks! --- here, here! --- It is the beating of his hideous heart!"

[andersonroad]