Gift Poems

Last weekend I was invited to teach a poetry class at Sibshop, a program for siblings of children with disabilities, organized by Parent to Parent of Vermont. Thanks to Judy and Joanne for making this possible!

I led the group (just four kids and three adults) in writing gift poems, modeled after a selection from "You Bring Out the Mexican in Me" by Sandra Cisneros. I asked them to close their eyes and think of a person who was very special to them. It could be a friend, family member, neighbor, teacher, anyone who had changed them for the better. I asked them to make a list of things this person brought out in them to spark ideas for a first draft.

1) Animal - Does this person bring out the roaring lion in you? The monkey? The hummingbird?
2) Part of Nature - Does this person make you feel like a tall mountain? A flashing star? A calm lake? A whispering field?
3) Colors - What colors does this person bring out in you? Midnight purple? Grass green? Dark red?
4) Feelings - Does this person bring out the creativity in you? The courage? The joy? Sometimes the anger or sadness?
5) People - Who does this person bring out in you? The magician? The warrior? The singer?
6) Anything else that comes to mind!

After everyone had their lists, it was time to start a first draft. I told the class to think of a rough order, a way of structuring their favorite items from the list. I asked them to think about rhythm and repetition, to read their poems out loud and listen to the sounds. When everyone had revised and rearranged their way to a final draft, they copied the poems onto colored paper and decorated them as a holiday gift for the person they'd written about. Here are the kids' poems:

Dear Abe
You bring out the fun in me,
the laughter in me, the clowning
in me, the mischief, the color black,
and the trouble maker in me.
-Phin, age 9

My Dad
You bring out the monkey in me
when you say I am one.
You bring out the clown in me
when you act like one.
You bring out the laughs in me
when you make up funny things in the book.
You bring out the red in me, the color of laughs
when you joke around.
-Zachary, age 9

Cole
You bring out the wrestler in me,
the fun, creativity, and laughter.
You bring out the hungry lion in me
when you make me angry
and the demolisher in me
when we knock stuff down.
-Ellis, age 11

Rachel
You bring out the music in me,
the dance floor in me, the singing.
The laughter in me and bright sunny yellow in me.
The bubbly in me.
You bring out the "y'all" in me,
the stylish clothes and beads in me.
-Hannah, age 11

Where I'm From

The ice cream social at Joseph's House was great fun (All hail Ben & Jerry's!), but also a little bittersweet, since it was the last meeting of the Lawrence Barnes poets. Several kids from another creative writing class read their stories, and my poetry class read the following collaborative poem:

Where I'm From

I'm from the heat in Sudan and the snow in Vermont.
I'm from Vietnam, the rice, crab, and hot gam siao I ate there.
I'm from the roots of vegetables under the ground, cooking chicken with my family.
I'm from riding my bike through Burlington, the birds, deer, and people I pass.
I'm from the summertime: watermelon, sweet corn, and berries.

I'm from swimming in the water like a fish.
I'm from the secret box I fill with acorns and feathers.
I'm from After-School and my favorite sports: basketball, football, and volleyball.
I'm from the snowy playground outside Lawrence Barnes.
I'm from Be quiet, Listen to me, Be respectful, Be safe, and Do your best.

I'm from throwing apples with my cousins in Russia.
I'm from my red and green bedroom where I run and crash into windows.
I'm from the voice of my annoying little sister acting crazy.
I'm from playing Monopoly with my grandma and grandpa.
I'm from twice-baked potatoes with cheese, so hot and soft.

I'm from the red, white, and blue of the American flag.
I'm from the moon and star on the Turkish flag.
I'm from decorating the tree and building a snowman on Christmas.
I'm from the pride I feel when celebrating Ramadan.
I'm from the suit I wear to welcome the New Year at midnight.

Ice Cream Social!

All readers in the Burlington area (or beyond, if you're dedicated!) are invited to an ice cream social sponsored by the Old North End Unity Project. Kids, adults, and families are welcome, and several young poets from Lawrence Barnes will read their work. As I refuse to make a lame pun on "scoop," here is the information:

When: Friday, December 14, 3 pm (poets read at 3:45 pm)
Where: Joseph's House, corner of Elmwood & Allen
Why: Duh, free ice cream! And poems!

Imagery Poems

After a rousing game of Duck Duck Onomatopoeia, my JFK class gathered around the table to talk about the five senses and poetic imagery. Here are a few student poems using a form I suggested:

My eyes will never forget my dog playing fetch.
My ears will never forget my dog barking.
My nose will never forget watermelon in spring.
-Tristan

My eyes will never forget my mom and dad.
My ears will never forget "Give Thanks."
My nose will never forget pizza smells.
My tongue will never forget the cheeses.
My hands will never forget my pizza is hot.
-Jacob

My eyes will never forget Sarah being silly.
My ears will never forget my mom talking.
My nose will never forget flowers.
My tongue will never forget chicken.
My hands will never forget hugging my mom.
-Daisyah

Comparison Poems

Today at JFK I introduced poetic comparisons by reading several similes and metaphors by other children I've taught. After each one, I asked how it could be true. How is an egg like an alien's face? How is glitter like a dress with yellow stars and red hearts? After they seemed to understand how two unlike things could be similar, I held up a maraca and asked them to compare it to something outside of school. They said it was like a tree, a lollipop, a skinny guy with a big head. Then I told them to write a poem with a comparison in each line. Here are some examples:

The grass is green as a frog.
The ground is brown as a turkey.
The telephone is black as black hair.
The sun is yellow as a pencil.
-Daisyah

The turkey is as big as an elephant.
The pumpkin is as round as my head.
-Tristan

The grass is green
like a lily pad.
The vegetables are
tasty as candy.
The tiara is shiny
as a king's throne.
The moon is a shiny
silver ribbon.
-Rainbow

Lie Poems

I kicked off class by announcing that I came from the moon, stood seventy-two feet tall with curly purple hair, and ate elephants for breakfast. In near-perfect unison, several kids exclaimed, "No, you don't!"

"Oh, no?" I asked. "What's it called when I say things that aren't true?" After a few tries, they came up lie, just the word I was looking for. I asked them for the biggest, fattest lie they could think of: where they came from, what they looked like, what they ate for breakfast, anything. They happily spun tall tales for me, each taller than the one before, and once the room got too loud to hear individual voices, I shouted, "Okay, you're ready! Start writing them down!" A few of the quieter children really opened up this week, trying on alter-egos and creating strange new worlds. Here are just a few student responses:

I am from Uranus. I am very hairy and the only part of my body is my face and my face is the color brown. I eat Sasquatch for breakfast.
-Elijah

I am from Russia.
I look like Spanish people with blue hair.
I will rip the book and eat paper.
I wear stinky clothes.
I will go to stinky-stink school.
I am friends with a bathroom.
I was the President of the United States.
I was boss of the world.
I will be rich. I will be mean.
I will break the competitors.
I will break the school.
I will go in a book and eat all of the books.
I will hit the teacher.
The competitors will be mine in every school.
I will be the clock.
I will be the doors.
I will be the books.
-Hamara

I was a teacher when I was three months old.
Once I was a book.
My best friend is the boss of the world.
I'm from under the ground.
I look just like Mrs. Turnbaugh.
I beat up the principal.
-Sevda

Sound Poems

First class at JFK Elementary in Winooski. We played with noisy words (onomatopoeia) like squish, meow, and crumple. "What does this sound like?" I asked, stomping my feet on the floor. Some thought it sounded like thunder, others like a stampede. When asked what word it sounded like, they had lots of ideas: boom, doom, thump, thunk, dunk-a-dunk. I repeated these questions after crinkling a plastic bag and tapping a ruler, then introduced other ways to play with sound, like rhyme and alliteration.

I told them to write the noisiest poem that they could. They were free to wander the classroom with pen and paper, making noises with the materials around them. Jacob produced the class's favorite sound by smacking a hanging laminated pumpkin with his palm, a cartoonish noise he described as "bibble-bibble-bibble." After everyone was finished writing and sharing, we played acrostic games and "poetry telephone."

Here are two poems from class:

Prehistoric puppies
ripped my pants!
Eee! Eee! Eee!
I itch my iguana.
Opa-hopa octopus.
Needle cheese!
-Collaboration

The boom-box dances to
the boom-boom. My room
has some wind that goes
whir-whir. When I eat
my snack I go chew-chew.
When a chair falls
it goes BOOM!
-Rainbow

List Poems

I read the kids a few lists from The Pillow Book of Sei Shonagon today and asked them to come up with a list of their own. I passed out a handout with suggestions, such as Things That Fall from the Sky, Things That Have Lost Their Power, Annoying Things, and Things Worth Seeing. Here are two poems from class:

Fancy Things
Shoes. Makeup.
Dresses at school.
Books. Bracelets.
Pencils. Skateboards.
-Hamara

Things that Make One's Heart Beat Faster
Weddings.
Going to another school.
Seeing my teachers.
Getting a present.
Doing a great job.
-Samira

Borrowed Lines

An easy, mellow class. I gave each student a list of lines from other poems and read a few examples. "Three thousand years ago" was a big hit, as well as "i was born with twelve fingers" and "We live in the night ocean wondering." I asked each of them to choose their favorite and use it as a first line for their own poem. Here is a sample:

3,000 years ago I was
the earth. Every time somebody
stepped on me I ached. In 3,000 years
I was a human. I had to get
a massage because my body ached.
And I'm still a human, and
I want to stay a human.
-Elijah

Sundays too my father got up early
because my dad works in recycling
and he never sleeps. It's hard to
not sleep.
-Samira

Years ago I lost a penny, a special penny. My dad's dad gave him it, he gave it to me, and I lost it when I was walking to school. That was a sad day.
-Paulina

Cloth from the moon. Cloth from
another planet. Cloth made out of super-
hero clothing.
-Fartun

Odes

This week I shared selections from Pablo Neruda's "Ode to a Lizard" and asked the students for favorite lines. They especially liked the questions (From what planet, / from what / cold green ember / did you fall?) and tricks of scale (To / a fly / you are the dart / of an annihilating dragon).

I explained that odes were poems of praise, funny or serious. When I asked for possible objects of praise, the answers skewed toward funny: "A skunk!" "A zombie!" "Dirty underwear!"

I kept my ode-writing instructions minimal. I told them to pretend they spoke the thing's secret language. They could describe it, tell it why they liked it, or ask it questions. While I expected silly and over-the-top praise from the class comedians, the vast majority of students wrote poems consisiting entirely of questions, possibly inspired by Neruda:

Ode to the Sun
Oh what part of the sun do the flowers use?
Why don't you run out of heat?
-Elijah

Ode to a Turtle
Why are you eating Halloween?
Why are you eating the sun?
Why are you eating the ghost?
Why are you eating the dragons?
-Michael

Ode to a Pumpkin
What is your favorite color?
My favorite colors are pink, red, purple.
Do you like when people touch you?
How do you like growing on a plant?
Do you like fighting?
Do you make babies?
Do you like being smashed?
-Sevda

Change Poems

Today I began by sharing two poems by H.O. Wheeler students, using the form "I used to... / But now..." The kids were very curious about the girls behind the poems: "What grade are they in?" "Did this one really live in Africa?" "How do you say her name?" After I answered their questions about the featured writers, I asked which lines were their favorites. They especially liked, "I used to be a black and white cat and my name was Jane / but now I am a superhero and my name is Supercat," "I used to be snow, but now I am a snow princess," and "I used to live in Africa, but now I live in America."

I told them their own poems could include real changes, made-up changes, or a combination. I asked them to think back to when they were very young, to remember all the things they'd learned, all the ways they'd grown.

I was delighted when Samira asked me, "Can we use names like we did last week? I liked that." She and a few friends continued to draw inspiration from the Name Poems lesson:

I used to be a snow princess,
but now I am Samira.
I used to be Aladdin,
but now I am Sevda.
I used to be a fish,
but now I am Hamara.

Here are a few more selections:

I used to be super, but now I'm Super David.
I used to think I was weak, but now I know I'm strong.
I used to hate kickball, but now I love kickball.
-David

I used to be a seed,
but now I am an action.
I used to be a fly,
but now I am a jungle.
I used to be a nothing,
but now I am a nothing.
-Deng

I used to be math, but now I am a shell.
I used to be a tree, but now I am a book.
I used to be a hat, but now I am a village.
I used to be a sea, but now I am a wood.
I used to be sharks, but now I am a fire.
I used to be trash, but now I am a bat.
I used to be a piano, but now I am a robot.
-Michael

Name Poems

Attention spans were running short today, so I kept my introduction brief and simple: What are some of your favorite names? Do you have a nickname? A special name that's only used in your family, or with your friends? If you could choose a name for yourself, what would it be? What about the person you were yesterday; the person you'll be tomorrow? I told them about how members of some tribes change their names frequently over the course of a lifetime to reflect how they themselves have changed.

I provided a word bank of nouns, adjectives, and color words to guide their writing. To help them practice using it, I asked them to use those words to create a name that described them today, even if it didn't seem to make sense. One boy called out, "Dancing Black Pumpkin!" and the writing began. I thought the word bank would be a helpful tool, but most didn't seem interested in using it. The vast majority, however, did use the format I provided:

Today my name is Hungry Bear.
Yesterday my name was Playing Carrot.
Tomorrow my name will be Chicken Wing.
My parents think my name is Fartun.
My friends think my name is Nobody.
My secret name is Pink Fish.
-Fartun

Today my name is Akhmad.
Yesterday my name was Mohamed.
Tomorrow my name will be Kemran.
My parents think my name is Sarah.
My friends think my name is Troy.
My secret name is Emily.
-Makhmud

Today my name is Vanessa Hejin.
Yesterday my name was Gabriella.
Tomorrow my name will be Hannah Montana.
My parents think my name is Samira.
My friends think my name is Sarvina.
My secret name is Pocahontas.
-Samira

Dream Poems

Today we talked about the strange, beautiful, frightening things that happen in dreams. To start off, we wrote a collaborative poem, each student contributing a line or two:

I dreamed there was no school.
I dreamed of hitting Elijah in the head.
I dreamed all the world would be ninjas.
I dreamed about a lion coming to eat me.
I dreamed about motorcycles, dirtbikes, every kind of bike, and everything in the world.
I dreamed about gold stuff.
I dreamed about a scary test.
I dreamed a pirate tried to kill my cousin.
I dreamed Samira was wearing glasses.
I dreamed my brother got hit by a boat.

Next everyone wrote individual poems about one dream or many. I encouraged them to include all the crazy details:

I dream of many colors making a pattern.
I try to play with heart and flower!?
I find squishy gold. I make it into cats.
-Hamara

I dreamed about my brother running around crazy with a snake on his head.
I dreamed about ice cream all over the school.
I dreamed about being the smartest person in the whole school.
-Sevda

Hand Poems

"Hands have a history of their own. They indeed have their own civilization, their special beauty, their own wishes, feelings, moods, and favorite occupations."
-Rainer Maria Rilke

I'm still trying to create harmony within this class, to balance the louder and softer voices, to be attentive to each student and help them be attentive to each other. This is a wild group of children, but I see potential in their wildness: exuberance, spontaneity, and deep creative powers.

Today we talked about our hands. What makes them special, what stories they hold, what they love and hate to do. Here's a sample of student responses:

My hands love to play the spitbox.
My hands hate to work.
My hands believe they can rap.
My hands wish they can fly.
My hands dream to fight.
My hands remember playing the drums.
-David

My hand dreams to be a soccer player.
My hand hates to dance.
My hand wishes to be a Pokemon master.
My hand remembers when I stabbed a pencil in my hand.
My hand believes the tooth fairy is real.
-Michael

Inside a Stone

First class at Lawrence Barnes today. I let each student choose a rock from Lake Champlain (see photo) and inspect it closely, as though they'd never seen a rock before:

What color is it? Any patterns on its surface? Is it warm or cool? Smooth or bumpy? Does the shape remind you of anything?

Immediately the answers came spilling out: "It's a submarine!" "Mine looks like a long, twisted finger!" "Look, this one is a pyramid!" They passed their rocks from hand to hand, feeling the weight, sampling the texture. They used a magnifying glass to check the tiny details: some were speckled, some were striped, some had designs like cave paintings. One more adventurous boy even licked his rock, reporting that it tasted "really gross, like a dusty attic."

Then I asked a different set of questions:

Now imagine you're a tiny, tiny person, no bigger than a speck of dust. This rock is your landscape. What's it like to walk across its surface? Does it look like a desert? A mountain range? A planet full of craters? What if you could go inside the rock? What kind of world would you find?

One girl described a quiet, spooky forest. A table of boys hoped to discover a diamond mine that would make them rich. Another student said "I can't see anything, it's so dark in here." I passed out copies of "Stone" by Charles Simic, and we read the poem aloud, discussing favorite lines and parts that weren't understood. To help students enter their rock and describe the experience, I played some slow, haunting flute music in the background. Here's a taste of what they wrote:

Diamonds Diamonds I'm as rich as Diamonds and shinier than my dentist's teeth.
-Elijah

I see animals in the rock.
I see forests in the rock.
I see diamonds in the rock.
I see grass in the rock.
I see dinosaurs in the rock.
I see noises of the dinosaur.
I am imagining I am getting chased.
I see a snake in the rock.
I see a bird in the rock.
I see a whale in the water.
-Ibrahim

I will see bumpy and rough and maybe sparkly white stuff. My rock will have black little worms. I will see grass with flowers. It will be silent, not one peep...My rock is special, no rock in the world will be the same as mine. I will see a guy sitting the dark doing yoga because it is so quiet and peaceful. I see lots of little designs.
-Paulina

Genesis

"On our earth, before writing was invented, before the printing press was invented, poetry flourished. That is why we know poetry is like bread; it should be shared by all, by scholars and by peasants, by all our vast, incredible, extraordinary family of humanity."
-Pablo Neruda

After a very successful pilot class at Wheeler Elementary (portfolio available here), our little project has expanded to five schools, thanks to a generous grant from the Vermont Arts Council. I am currently planning for fall and winter workshops, readings, and events. More updates as they come!