A Yellow Jellow, What Did You Say?

A Yellow Jellow, What Did You Say . . . ?

By J. Kaylin Copyright 1998 Published By Twilight Art and Book Publishers I87 South Villa Ave Addison, IL 60101 ISBN -13: 978-0-9799558-0-8 ISBN -10: 0-9799558-0-7

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning or otherwise, except as permitted under Sections 107 or 108 of the 1976 United States Copyright Act, without either the prior written permission of the Publisher. Requests to the Author for permissions should be addressed to: J.Kaylin, 187 South Villa Ave, Addison, Il 60101, fax (630) 279-2137, E-mail: jkaylineditorial@hotmail.com.

To Order Additional Copies, Write To:

Twilight Art and Book Publishers 187 South Villa Ave Addison, IL 60101 or E-mail: jkaylinsales@hotmail.com.

Copyright Notice

Table of Contents I’ve Looked . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9 The Nutton-Glutton . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10 Me and You . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11 Wishing Well . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12 Alive . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13 Listen . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13 Marcie Baldetti . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14 Downside Up . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15 Murlgle-Flurgle . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 16, 17 A Yellow Jellow Telephone . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 18, 19 What Do You Think? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 20 The Greatest Me ! . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 21 Moms. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 22 A Special Place . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 22 Smile, Smile, Smile . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 23 The Way Things Are . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 24, 25 Bean . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 26 Ping . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 27 Farmer Pence . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 28 Oh-Well-Diddy-Dell . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 29 Nancy Anne Baloo . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 30 Spider . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 31 Moms:

by Becky Cox

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A Yellow Jellow, What Did You Say . . . ?

T

ake one part each of thankfulness, enchantment, and wonder. Add a liberal amount of insight, warmth, and laughter. Then sprinkle in the essence of Dr. Suess and Shel Silverstein. And there you have it: a delightful ensemble of children’s poetry titled “A YELLOW JELLOW, WHAT DID YOU SAY . . . . ?”.

“A Yellow Jellow Telephone” was the first poem written for the book. It was inspired by a word game he played with the Cox children, Jay, Becky, and Rachel. “One of us would name something, one of us would name what color it was to be, and the someone would name of what it was made. Somebody said ‘telephone,’ someone said ‘Jello,’ and somebody said ‘yellow.’ ” This three-word combination inspired him to immediately create a three-stanza poem that goes with the colorful title.

Aimed at a target audience of readers age 5-8, author Jeffery Kalinowski would like to introduce you to the Murgel-flurgle-flickity-tickity-tat, the Nuttonglutton, and the Yellow Jellow Telephone. All these characters are to be found in this new e-book of children’s poetry.

“A Yellow Jellow, What Did You Say . . . ?”

This small volume of children’s poetry, which bears the pen name of Jay J. Kaylin, a much more rhythmic and pronounceable nom-de-plume. A writer of “philosophical, spiritual, and strangely funny stuff,” Kalinowski settled on the latter, to pen a book that has been described as the next generation in word play and humor. Not so far set apart from such Authors as Ogden Nash, Shel Silverstein, and Dr. Suess.

The son of Marion and the late Joseph Kalinowski, born in Chicago, Kalinowski spent his first four years growing up on the North Side until the family moved to Lombard. There he attended Park View Elementary School, Lombard Jr. High, and Glenbard East High School.

Although he had always wanted to write for children but had been afraid to try, Kaylin went on to pen such other rhymes as “Murgle-flurgle-flickity-tickity-tat,” “Moms,” “The Way Things Are,” and “Nancy Ann Baloo.” “I tried all my poems on the children and still do,” Kaylin admitted.

“Children have a tendency to be brutally honest.”

Jay J. Kaylin’s close understanding of children and of the child within in us all is self evident in this delightfully written and uniquely illustrated new book. A Yellow Jellow, What. .. ? is truly a novel approach to children’s literature. It is full of enlightening poetry and fun for all that Will touch your heart and make you smile, and if not, at least grin a little.

Back Cover iv

About the Author Jeffery Kalinowski (aka Jay J Kaylin) was the first of four children to be born to Joseph and Marion Kalinowski. Early on in grade school, Mr. Kalinowski expressed a high interest in art and science, and has since always displayed a uniquely enlightened aptitude in these areas. During High School, he was recognized for his unique art and writing abilities. His expression in these areas were met with opposition from High School staff and his own family. Though he excelled in most scholastic areas, he wanted to earn a graduate degree and pursue a career in the creative arts. His family pressured him to give up that dream, and would not pay for college if he persisted in such a risky venture for finding steady employment after college, and his alternative was to forgo college and immediately find a steady job within the trades. With no money for college, and under pressure from his parents, he took a small position at a local printing company while moonlighting as a writer. Then from outside and from within his job, he studied the printing industry as a whole. He had all but forsaken his other artistic talents as he studied, schooling himself in literature and writing. He soon moved up the professional latter in both writing and printing, and was now schooling himself in publishing and business marketing. Then with a limited budget, determination, and with the help of those who freely supported him, he then wrote, illustrated, and published his first book of children’s poetry titled, “A Yellow Jellow, What?” which quickly emptied off bookstore shelves. His new e-book, is entitled, “A Yellow Jellow, What Did You Say?” which is a continuation in the series. He has two more manuscripts consisting of over 150 children’s poems which are currently being compiled into a third, fourth and perhaps fifth work in this series including greatly improved artwork. Mr. Kalinowski still resides in the Chicago area. He has completed, with highest honors, a 2 year degree in the arts and is under taking course work toward his long overdue Masters degree within the creative arts.

About Author v

Special Thanks I have seen it written many times and in as many books that no one book is brought about by just one person, and this particular book certainly was not created by myself alone. It has been co-created with the warmth, friendship, and love of a countless number of people. People who have freely given of their time, support, and vast experiences. People who have helped me with their own hopes, strength, and encouragement, and in so doing, they have helped me to achieve what you know see before you my first children’s book, and my very first dream.

I want to mention also here that these people have not only have added a unique special-ness to this single book, but to my whole life as well. Including a outstanding wisdom of the mind, and an infinite richness to my very soul, and some of those listed here, by my just simply having had the pleasure of knowing them.

Therefore, it is for these people that I am truly grateful, and it is my wish now to give to, at least some of them, my warmest and deepest thanks possible. They are as follows: my father for giving me his reason and logic and for helping me to feel connected to the world around me and for giving me much of his time and plenty of his support in the only and best way he knew how; my mother for our long intellectual conversations through out most of my life, entailing mostly - philosophy, sociology, and politics, and for her artistic talent, and for her emotional support that was to much come later in my life; my brothers Steve and Doug for all their help and support; my sister Lynn for being there for me and the family for the fun on holidays and at special occasions; my close friends R. & W. Cox for having saved my life the first time; my very special comrades in the arts - Jay, Becky, and Rachel, Juls, and Flour Cox for their many artistic talents, and most of all, for their unconditional love and support; and to the whole Cox family for their warm and genuine surrealistic view of life.

My warmest and deepest thanks to many of my newly found friends. They are as follows: Tom H., Kathy M., Mike B., Colleen F., Sarah B., John L., Chris H., George F., Tim G., Rick M., and to all the others who are a part of this unique group of people for helping me live and realize this new life far beyond any of my expectations; Marianne de Blouwe, and the best sales woman, that I have to this date, ever known, and for her close companionship.

My warmest and deepest thanks to many very old friends as well. They are as follows: Don and Lori Heins, Jim “Jimbo” Indoranto, Ed Gannon, Jeff Gammon, John Tyminski, Bret “Bertt” and Debbie Stancy, John and Diane Adams, Tim “Goobs” Gorman, and all the rest of the this old crowd I grew up with for the unforgettable times we all shared, and at a time, when we had thought we were so indestructible, and most of all, for those really good laughs, honest caring and sentiment, and for the high times in the past we all shared, and for their solid and continual support in all that I do now.

Now I’d like to give these same warm and deepest thanks to the unequaled team at West General Graphics. They are as follows: Mario and Ernie Pescatore my employers and the two owners of West General Graphics for there extreme patience and understanding and for the free use of their materials and equipment after hours that went into the making of this book; my immediate co-workers, Carmella Biancofiore for her gentleness of heart and her true free spirit; Madelyn Pescatore, Karen Mikula, Mike Cavallo, Fridencio Rivera, Gabrial H. Rodriguez, Michael Polanek, Dan Marcucclli, Kelly Kochandski, Pompay Hicks, and Stephanie Cappiello for all their unconditional help, unimaginable patients, and for showing me how to keep going on; Lastly, these thanks go out to my grammar instructor, Dan Kies, for his selfless devotion toward his students, the college, and his class - “Modern English Grammar” a class I had the great pleasure to attend, and to the College of Dupage, and it’s staff for giving me countless opportunities to find and reach my goals (this book being one of them), and my degree in the Humanities. Thank you all ever so dearly.

-- J.

Special Thanks vi

This Book is Dedicated to Good Orderly Direction, the birth of a new life, love, and to my warm inspirations: Jay, Becky, Rachel, Juls, and Flour.

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For Everyone

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I‘ve Looked I’m looking for a poem, And I’ve looked where I’ve sat; I’ve looked in my sister’s hair, And I have looked under my hat; I’ve looked almost everywhere, But I do remember that I had written it to the left . . . . . . and I had written it to the right; I had written it all day, And I had written it all night; I had written it up, And I had written it down, And I had w

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Now if you find this poem, Please read it for me, While I bend to look Behind my knee.

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The Nutton-Glutton I am the Nutton-Glutton, And I am the lint in your belly-button.

Now there’s no need to get mad, And there’s no need to pout.

If you want me out, just Shake shake shake your belly up and down and . . . . . . Around about!

And shout, “Sauerkraut! Sauerkraut!”

“Get Out, Out, Out!” “Get out of my belly-button.”

“You silly old Nutton-Glutton!”

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Me and You If I could be you, and you could be me, And me could be you, and you could be I; Or if I were you, and you were me, And me were you, and you were I; Or if I was you, and you was me, And me was you, and you was I. Then what would we both be?

I and you, you and me, Me and you, or you and I?

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Wishing Well I went to this wishing well And when I was ready; I reached into my pocket And pulled out a penny; I wished to be free And do as I pleased; I wished I could cry Without being teased . . . .

Then I wished for my sister Not to hit me in the head!

And then I wished, I had a dime To drop in instead.

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Alive Jump about. Roll about.

Laugh and Shout!

There’s always something to be happy about; There’s always something to be real about Being alive, Being alive, Simply being alive!

Listen Listen to the sounds As your foot steps mark the ground; Listen to each slow breath you take With each new step you make.

And listen to your dreams, And make your wishes; Shed your tears, And cherish your smiles.

Hold all of life as precious and dear, For all of life can be a wondrous fron tier.

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Marcie Baldetti Marcie Baldetti has spices on her cheek; Marcie Baldetti has tomatoes on her feet.

Marcie Baldetti has noodles in her nose; Marcie Baldetti has macaroni between her toes.

Marcie Baldetti has cheese on her chair; Marcie Baldetti has meatballs in her hair, But Marcie Baldetti really doesn’t care ‘Cause Marcie Baldetti likes her spaghetti - everywhere!

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Upside Down The cloud’s on the ground; Grass hangs down high from the sky; Downside up am I.

Murgle-flurgle-flickity-tickity-tat I am the Murgle-flurgle-flickity-tickity-tat; Please look at where you just sat.

Please close this book, And take a look!

Take a look at Where you just sat Because I’m the Murgle-flurgle-flickity-tickity-tat, And you just collapsed my zamp, And you cracked my boo-bamp, And you crackled my kizz-zackle, And now my rickity-brickity-brackle Is all out of wickity wackle.

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So the next time, Before you have sat, Don’t forget to ask And ask about me To anyone you ‘will’ see, If they know where I’m at Because I am the . . .

Murgle-flurgle-flickity-tickity-tat!

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Yellow Jellow Telephone If I had a machine That could do almost anything, I’d make a wish And pull it’s switch; Then that machine Would start to twitch; It might squeak and squawk, Bleep and blop, And out of it would pop A Yellow Jellow Telephone, Bouncing with a jiggle jiggle, And ringing with a little wiggle giggle.

And if I had a machine That could make almost anything, I’d make a wish And pull it’s switch; Then that machine Would start to twitch; It might twirl and bump, Whirl and thump, And out of it would jump A blue peek-a-boo kangaroo, Loving to hug with a snuggle snuggle, And laughing with a double “uckle-wuckle.”

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And what if I had a machine That could make almost anything?

I’d make my wish And pull it’s switch; Then that old machine Would really start to twitch; It might dance and glow, Glance and know That out of it would tiptoe . . . . . . you my friend, From start to end, Through these words I send Of wishes and dreams And some very silly things.

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What Do I Think?

You say you want me red; You say you want me blue; You say you want me yellow, orange, pink, or blue; You say you want me anything But who I am And who I am with you.

Then ask me, ask me, What do I think? What do I think?

What do I think of - you!?

What could I? Would I? Should I think of you?

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The Greatest Me I am not the plainest Or the vainest Or the cleanest Or the meanest.

I am neither the lightest Nor the brightest Nor the oldest Nor the boldest.

I am not the newest Or the cutest Or the biggest Or the smallest, But I am indeed the greatest At being me.

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Moms Moms are for helping me play a Zooba tune; Moms are for helping me clean me room; Moms are for helping me with the homework I must do But Moms are there mostly for kisses and hugs, And even those Band-Aids too.

A Special Place When I am mad Or when I feel sad; I go to a place Where I feel safe And think of things As if I had wings, I could fly away And come back someday When all my worries Have gone away.

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Smile, Smile, Smile Have you seen my smile?

I can’t seem to find it; I feel it’s tickle, And I feel it’s joy; I feel it inside of me somewhere . . .

Somewhere in my stomach Did I swallow it ?!

No. Oh wait, oh wait a minute . . .

Over there - Right over there!

I think, I think I might see it!

Yes, yes I do!

It is in the mirror Smiling brightly back . . .

Back at me! - At me!

Whew!

Boy! I thought had I lost it!

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The Way Things Are Why. Why. Why. Can’t a nose be called an eye?

Hear! Hear! Hear!

Can’t a mouth be called an ear?

Tell me. Tell me. Tell me.

Can’t a head be called a knee?

Listen! Listen! Listen!

Can’t a shin be called a chin?

Look! Look! Look!

Can’t a hand be called a foot?

Then would seeing be smelling And hearing be yelling?

Would thinking be kneeling?

And handling be footing?

Would we get a sniffle in our eye?

And blink with our noses?

Would we call our ear muffs Our mouth muffs?

Then would we eat with our ear?

Would we wear a hat on our knee?

And kneel on our heads?

Would we wave good-bye with a foot?

And (Oh dear) clap with our feet?

Would two chins hold up our two socks?

And when we eat, Would we dribble on our shin?

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But now, as I stand here With an ear waxy grin And my knee all in a spin Just twiddling my toes And blinking my noses And just thinking about it, I really have no doubts about it That this would be Just too bizarre, And I really do like some things, At least, Just the way they are.

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Bean There is nothing more That I could adore About what I have seen In a bean; It is lean and green And tastes, “oh s-o-o-o g-o-o-o-o-o-d!�

Topped with ice cream and tangerines.

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Ping Ping . . .

Pong . . .

Ping . . .

Pong . . .

Ping . . .

Pong . . .

Ping . . .

Pong . . .

Ping . . . ping, ping, ping, ping - pingpingpingping Oops, I MISSED! pong . . .

Page 27

Farmer Pence Poor old farmer Pence Was playing on a fence!

He fell into a pig-pen While playing on a fence!

And well before our dinner time, His smell was immense.

Oh, poor old farmer Pence Who was Playing on that Fence.

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Oh Well Diddy If a Dishmadell Dries up your wishing well, Throw your hands in the air and say, “Oh well diddy dell dell dell.”

If a Flishtafoodle Flies away with your old noodle And runs away with your new poodle To get married on “Uncle Fiddy’s Funny Farm”, Then put your hands on your hips and say, “Oh darn diddy darn darn darn.”

If a Tishmadart Tips over your dream cart, Then just stamp stamp stamp your feet And say, “Oh flart diddy dart dart dart.”

Then dig another wishing well, And make another wish; Wish well to your new poodle And hold on to your newer noodle.

Then once again, come to know, What is in your heart, And enjoy all your forgotten dreams, Then you will see my child, It is always better Than it actually seems.

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Nancy Ann Baloo Nancy Ann Baloo is never grateful For what she’s got, For Nancy Ann Baloo complains An awful, awful lot.

First Nancy says she is too cold; Then she says she is too hot; Then she says she is too old; Then she says she is not.

Then Nancy says she has nothing new, And wishes her hair were blue, But I know I never complain, And I guess I never do Except, of course, When it’s about My sister Nancy Ann Baloo.

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Spider A spider, A hairy beast Is icky and ugly and creepy And has spun Itself Down To My Bedroom floor Then crawls and creeps and rests and races And races and creeps and crawls and rests . . .

And . . . STOMP !!!

No more Spider.

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Moms Moms are there For giving you your bear; Moms are there For brushing your hair; Moms are there For pushing in your chair, But most of all, Moms are there For lots and Lots of Love And care Becky Cox Age 10

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Copyright 1998 Text and Illustrations by Jay J. Kaylin & Co. Created by Extreme Digital Media Published by Twilight Art and Book Publishers ISBN-13: 978-0-9799558-0-8 ISBN-10: 0-9799558-0-7