*(Fifty feet tall (inspired by Shel Silverstein's 'One inch tall'))
If you were fifty feet tall, you would not go to school
the grand oceans would be your swimming pool
the hide of an elephant would be your meat
and would only take a few seconds to eat
a lion would be like a furry flea
if you were fifty feet tall
If you were fifty feet tall, you would walk over walls
and would take only seconds to visit the mall
a tropical rainforest would be your bed
a snack for you would be a tonne of bread
you would were a tin roof upon your head
if you were fifty feet tall
You'd paddle across the pacific on a glacier of ice
you couldn't hug your mum, she would be like a grain of rice
people would run from you with fright
to move a pencil would be a frustrating plight
(this poem would be hard to write, if you were
fifty feet tall)
Inspired by Shel Silverstein's poem 'One inch tall'
If You Were Fifty Feet Tall..... [inspired by poemhunter poet Allen Steble's poem: *(Fifty feet tall (inspired by Shel Silverstein's 'One inch tall')): humor]
If you could go to school, it would be the Very High School.
I think, for swimming, Australia's Lake Como would do.
Go ahead, if you want, and eat the elephant's tough hide,
but if I were you, I'd prefer to eat the elephant's inside.
A lion might look to you like a small furry flea,
but I bet its claws would still sting like a big stinging bee.
If you were fifty feet tall, you could step over.....most any size wall,
but if you tripped, you might kill yourself in a VERY VERY BIG fall.
A rainforest as a bed? Cover with a circus tent or you might get wet!
Or you could wear(not were) a tin roof over your head. That's a good bet.
You could eat a tonne of bread and drink gallons from rain gutter,
(but I'd drink a keg of wine) . Don't forget to add, to bread, butter.
Yes, a glacier of ice would make, for you, a super transoceanic raft.
If you're fifty feet tall, I'd like to see [maybe not] your daddy's shaft.
True, some ignorant people might well run from you in fright,
but to me, such uncalled-for uncouth behaviour.......just isn't right! !
thanks Allen for sharing the poem(s) and for being an inspiration to me. i don't know WHAT i would have done with my day otherwise! i noticed your name at the top of some popularity list. congratulations, i think. :) bri
you would were a tin roof upon your head(Report)Reply
Sometimes, one of the toughest mental health challenges we face is simply learning to feel good about ourselves. We can all learn something from Rebecca Thomas, a University of Wisconsin-Oshkosh senior who wrote the following essay for her journalism class. — Tara Parker-Pope
By Rebecca Thomas
Everywhere I go people stare at me. At the grocery store children gawk at me wide-eyed, craning their necks and pointing as they tug their mothers’ shirts. When I pass people on the street, I hear them mumble comments about my appearance.
I am not deformed or handicapped, I’m not a circus attraction. I have strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes. What makes me different is that I’m 6-foot-4, and I’m a woman.
My entire life has been influenced by the fact that I stand way above the average height for both men and women. I was born two weeks late. When I finally entered the world I weighed 11 pounds, 10 ounces and was 24 inches long. When my mom told my grandmother my measurements, she asked in amazement, “Are you okay?!”
Shortly after my birth, my parents and doctors started to worry that there was something wrong with me. From infancy though high school, my parents took me to specialists for X-rays, blood and bone tests and ultrasounds to try to discover the cause of my extreme height. In the end, however, I had no disease or syndrome. My parents are 6-foot-3 and 5-foot-10, so I was simply the extraordinary product of two tall individuals.
I was healthy, but incredibly shy as a child and into my teens. I’m from a small town, and I grew up and graduated with the same 50 people. I started playing basketball in third grade every Saturday, but I didn’t have any control over my awkward, gangly body. (I didn’t even score a point in a game until many years later.) I was 5-foot-10 in fourth grade. I had a small group of friends in elementary school, but sometimes the boys picked on me, calling me a bean pole or the Jolly Green Giant. I still remember my embarrassment when they taunted me, and how badly I wanted to be invisible.
In high school I got more involved in sports, but I spent most days in the art room. By this time everyone at my school was used to my height (by ninth grade I was 6-foot-3), but if I went out of town people would gawk and comment about my appearance. They acted like I couldn’t hear them.
“Wow! That girl is tall!”
“Oh my gosh! Look at that girl, she’s so tall.”
I was forced into the spotlight wherever I went.
With high school came more confidence. I had success in school, the arts and sports. I played basketball, but my true passion was track and field. My senior year I was the conference champion in high jump and the 400-meter run. The friendships I gained through my involvement in high school boosted my confidence and helped me develop a sense of humor. Now when a stranger told me I was tall I would smile and nod or, if I was feeling feisty, I would feign shock and thank them profusely for telling me. I had no idea!
Still, society keeps me aware of my status as a rarity. The retail industry doesn’t exactly cater to a woman with a 37-inch inseam and size 14 feet. I never dated, let alone kissed a guy until I was in college. And even though people tell me I’m beautiful and I should be a model, there are times when I would trade in my long legs for a petite frame and tiny feet.
I often wish people weren’t so rude. How can they act so unabashedly shocked when they see someone who is different from them? And I’ve got it easy; I’m a minority only in the sense of height. I can only imagine how those under the burden of a group prejudice based on their race or religion must feel. I like to think that those who have insulted me didn’t intend to. I do believe that most people are basically good, but they can be insensitive.
I have come to learn that my height can be used to my advantage. I’ll be graduating from college with a journalism degree soon, and when I stand up and ask a question, people listen. I’m a pretty decent high jumper, I can reach things on tall shelves, and I have a conversation starter for every occasion.
Being a tall woman was hard for me growing up. But in the end, I think it has made me a stronger individual. I’ve grown into my body, and I try my best to wear all 76 inches of my height with pride, and take the awkward comments and stares with poise.
In fact, sometimes I wear heels. Just to make them look twice.
Ms. Thomas is graduating this fall, and her boyfriend stands 6 feet 1 inch tall. Tara Parker-Pope is on vacation.
Update: April, 10, 2008: Tara Parker-Pope interviewed Rebecca for the first “Week in Well” podcast, which will revisit some of the blog’s most popular entries.