My Life In Word

~by Shel Silverstein~

He rode through the woods on a big blue ox,
He had fists as hard as choppin’ blocks,
Five hundred pounds and nine feet tall…that’s Paul.

Talk about workin’, when he swung his axe
You could hear it ring for a mile and a half.
Then he’d yell “Timber!” and down she’d fall…for Paul.

Talk about drinkin’, that man’s so mean
That he’d never drink nothin’ but kerosene,
And a five-gallon can is a little bit small…for Paul.

Talk about tough, well he once had a fight
With a thunderstorm on a cold dark night.
I ain’t sayin’ who won,
But it don’t storm at all…round here…thanks to Paul.

He was ninety years old when he said with a sigh,
“I think I’m gonna lay right down and die
‘Cause sunshine and sorrow, I’ve seen it all…says Paul.

He says, “There ain’t no man alive can kill me,
Ain’t no woman ’round can thrill me,
And I think heaven just mught be a ball”…says Paul.

So he died…and we cried.

It took eighteen men just to bust the ground,
It took twenty-four more just to lower him down.
And we covered him up and we figured that was all…for Paul.

But late one night the trees started shakin’,
The dogs started howlin’ and the earth started quakin’,
And out of the ground with a “Hi, y’all”…comes Paul!

He shook the dirt from off his clothes,
He scratched his butt and wiped his nose.
“Y’know, bein’ dead wasn’t no fun at all”…says Paul.

He says, “Up in heaven they got harps on their knees,
They got clouds and wings but they got no trees.
I don’t think that’s much of a heaven at all”…says Paul.

So he jumps on his ox with a fare-thee-well,
He says, “I’ll find out if there’s trees in hell.”
And he rode away, and that was all…we ever seen…of Paul.

But the next time you hear a “Timber!” yell
That sounds like it’s comin’ from the pits of hell,
Then a weird and devilish ghostly wail
Like somebody’s choppin’ on the devil’s tail,
Then a shout, a call, a crash, a fall–
That ain’t no mortal man at all…that’s Paul!

This version of the poem is from Shel Silverstein’s book of poems for children, “Where the Sidewalk Ends” published in 1974.

I chose this poem as my first Friday Favorites because it is my all-time fav! Me and Paul Bunyan go back 45 years to Ms. Lewis’ 3rd grade class.

It was the 78-79 school year, and if I recall correctly, it was her first and last year teaching. She made it exciting to go to school. If we were good in class Monday through Thursday, Friday was a fun day. She would read to us from Shel Silverstein’s Where the Sidewalk Ends. She would often let us choose the poem of the day, and more times than not, we chose Paul Bunyan.

I remember sitting there mesmerized as she read. She gave life to black words written on white pages. So much so that the words came to life in my imagination.

Every time I read this poem, like a time traveler, I am transported back in 1978, sitting cross-legged on the floor of a classroom at Avalon Elementary, alongside my classmates.

You know who you are: Karen, Louis, Scott, Tracey, Charles, Julie, David, Tommy, Jeff, Dusty, Kellie, Herman, Yolanda, Isis, Sandy, Lee, Ismael, Randy, Allison, Vicky, Nyna and Deanna. I can remember 22 out of 29 my classmates’ names and faces. Not bad all!