poem - Hector the Collector
Jun. 20th, 2003 04:01 pmCollected bits of string,
Collected dolls with broken heads
And rusty bells that would not ring.
Pieces out of picture puzzles
Bent-up nails and ice-cream sticks,
Twists of wires, worn-out tires,
Paper bags and broken bricks.
Old chipped vases, half shoelaces,
Gatlin' guns that wouldn't shoot,
Leaky boats that wouldn't float
And stopped-up horns that wouldn't toot.
Butter knives that had no handles,
Copper keys that fit no locks,
Rings that were too small for fingers,
Dried-up leaves and patched-up socks.
Worn-out belts that had no buckles,
'Lectric trains that had no tracks,
Airplane models, broken bottles,
Three-legged chairs and cups with cracks.
Hector the Collector
Loved these things with all his soul--
Loved them more then shining diamonds,
Loved them more then glistenin' gold.
Hector called to all the people,
"Come and share my treasure trunk!"
And all the silly sightless people
Came and looked ... and called it junk.
This will always be my most favorite of all Shel Silverstein's poems, though there are so many of his I love. This one... this one was something I overindentified with as a child. I was a little Hector. It drove my mom insane, and made me slightly unpopular (more or less on different days) with the afterschool day care crowd.
EDIT: Ew. I think I just popped a joint in my hand that wasn't supposed to be popped. That corner where the bones of your palm (near bottom of lifeline) meet the inside corner of your wrist. It feels very strange now.