Spinning Yarns with Naomi

My favorite storyteller who Spins Yarns right now is Naomi Shihab Nye. I recently read Honeybee, which is a book of poems in the YA section of the library, and I fell in love with her work while reading it. Similar to the title of that book, it made me feel sweet and golden and warm on the inside. She’s written a bunch of wonderful things, but I have yet to get to all of them. You should seriously consider reading a book or two of hers! It takes you in, sits you on the front porch on a rocker, gives you a glass of iced tea with a lemon wedge on the rim of the glass, and makes you feel quite at home while you get to know her world. And her world is put into words which sound like the ones your best friends use–the ones which make you grin most of the time. The best part is that after a while you feel like the story could be yours too, like you two have indeed been friends for forever. Sometimes, that’s just what I need too: another friend.

It feels absolutely creepy that I’m talking about her like this, even though we have clearly never met. I’m just an admirer. But if you’re feeling a little lonely and need a to borrow a piece of sunshine, read her work. You’ll be happy you did!

Don’t get me wrong: it’s not all rays of sunshine in her writing. There are some serious ones in there, too. Even those sound like something relatable and approachable.

Below is a poem of hers, called

One Boy Told Me

Music lives inside my legs.
It’s coming out when I talk.

I’m going to send my valentines
to people you don’t even know.

Oatmeal cookies make my throat gallop.

Grown-ups keep their feet on the ground
when they swing. I hate that.

Look at those 2 o’s with a smash in the middle—
that spells good-bye.

Don’t ever say “purpose” again,
let’s throw the word out.

Don’t talk big to me.
I’m carrying my box of faces.
If I want to change faces I will.

Yesterday faded
but tomorrow’s in boldface.

When I grow up my old names
will live in the house
where we live now.
I’ll come and visit them.

Only one of my eyes is tired.
The other eye and my body aren’t.

Is it true all metal was liquid first?
Does that mean if we bought our car earlier
they could have served it
in a cup?

There’s a stopper in my arm
that’s not going to let me grow any bigger.
I’ll be like this always, small.

And I will be deep water too.
Wait. Just wait. How deep is the river?
Would it cover the tallest man with his hands in the air?

Your head is a souvenir.

When you were in New York I could see you
in real life walking in my mind.

I’ll invite a bee to live in your shoe.
What if you found your shoe
full of honey?

What if the clock said 6:92
instead of 6:30? Would you be scared?

My tongue is the car wash
for the spoon.

Can noodles swim?

My toes are dictionaries.
Do you need any words?

From now on I’ll only drink white milk
on January 26.
What does minus mean?
I never want to minus you.

Just think—no one has ever seen
inside this peanut before!

It is hard being a person.

I do and don’t love you—
isn’t that happiness?

Hope you enjoyed and that you’re a new fan!




Filed under Poem, Prompt Posts

2 responses to “Spinning Yarns with Naomi

  1. Liked your post – cant say the same for your current favorite poem/poet, though . To each his / her own…


    • quotidianrevision

      That’s quite alright. To each his/her own…and mine keeps changing a lot. This is the most current! Who’s yours?
      Thank you for stopping by and for commenting! 🙂


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