Rebecca A. Hoobler

Rather dreary

“I think it is unnatural to think that there is such a thing as a blue-sky, white-clouded happy childhood for anybody. Childhood is a very, very tricky business of surviving it. Because if one thing goes wrong or anything goes wrong, and usually something goes wrong, then you are compromised as a human being. You’re going to trip over that for a good part of your life.”

—   Maurice Sendak (via farewell-kingdom)

(Source: pavorst, via farewell-kingdom)

Lizzy McBizzy
Lizzy McBizzy was always in a tizzy
Her calendar pages would make anyone dizzy
She’d arrive at one place and hardly sit down
Before she’d be out the door with another leap and bound

She’d always arrive asking, “can we make this fast?”
For she warned she’d certainly be off in a flash
Her toes and toenails would ache in her shoes
Tied far too tightly so they’d never come loose

Her heels felt like cracking beneath the constant pace
Of her tick always tocking in endless haste
Her shins always whined that the work was too much
To keep everything going in such a constant rush

Her feet to her knees were always in protest
That the demand of their job was in need of some rest
But Lizzy was too busy to hear their complaints
She had too much to do to schedule in breaks

Finally one day after months of screaming and yelling
About union laws, and lunch breaks, and conditional dwellings
Little Lizzy’s feet took a stand against the lack of enjoyment
And walked off to find themselves better employment

Poem/R. Hoobler
Illustration/M. Chilian
Design/E. Lizabeth
Today is Edward Gorey’s birthday! My cat is curled in my lap while I post this….fingers crossed this is a glimpse at me in 30 years, beard and everything

Today is Edward Gorey’s birthday! My cat is curled in my lap while I post this….fingers crossed this is a glimpse at me in 30 years, beard and everything

“Oh, you just wait and see!”

—   Roald Dahl, from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (via the-final-sentence)

I Hope You Die


I hope you die in a rampant forest fire
When a spark flies loose from a small campfire
I hope a wheel falls off a plane and squishes you flat
How strange they’d say, what are the chances of that?
I hope you’re framed for a murder whose conviction you can’t beat
And the next chair you sit in is the electric seat
I hope time slows down giving your heart a pause
I hope your eyeballs start bleeding but they’ve run out of gauze
I hope a giant rhinoceros looking for a mate
Stampedes your neighborhood and breaks down your gate
I hope a civil war re-enactor forgets his place and time
His bayonet beheads you and disconnects your mind
I hope you’re walking downtown when an earthquake strikes
I hope boulders start rolling on an afternoon hike
I hope a billionaire hunting humans picks you for game
I hope execution is sure but he has shoddy aim
But if you decide to not die and to just keep on living
If more days are in-store despite my misgivings
You know where to find me and I hope that you do
I think we’d have fun
Mr. Finkle
To please Mr. Finkle was anything but easy
He was grumpy and plumpy and at times a bit weasy
A carnival would pass through town with big flashing lights
Filled with tigers and lions all ferocious with fright
He’d yawn and he’d nod and he’d say it was fine
But insist the main attraction was a big waste of time
You could juggle with fire and walk on a river
Bend over backwards to really deliver
The world could stop turning, pause in midflight
The sun could wash away turning day into night
And old Mr. Finkle would just climb into bed
Thankful for the extra few hours to rest his head
Poem/R. Hoobler
Illustration/D. Nefcy
Design/E. Lizabeth
This is a poem I wrote back in August and couldn’t think what to do with it for far too long. We were just going to do lettering but Elizabeth Downey (the designer) thought of a great drawing to add and I think it works perfect!
Sometimes
Sometimes you’re sad
Sometimes you’re blue
Sometimes life’s plan doesn’t seem right to you
Sometimes your heart breaks, it breaks quite a lot
Sometimes life’s plan takes everything you’ve got
But those are the times when sometimes your might
Is all you have left to give to the fight
Sometimes you lose and it hurts most of all
But sometimes you win and it’s worth the windfall
Poem/R. Hoobler
Illustration/E. Lizabeth
Design/E. Lizabeth
Some people have said the cat killer is curiosity
But for Catherine Cat McDougall that simply could not be
There was never a rock she left unturned
There was never a lesson she did not learn
There was always places to see and stuff to figure out
There was always endless adventures dancing about
No curiosity was never Catherine The Cats downfall
But the dull boredom that comes when you discover it all
Poem/R. Hoobler
Illustration/Dr. Doobious
Design/E. Lizabeth
nevver:

Reach as high as you can