Monday, June 6, 2011

Kids' Poems and Art from the Trans Health Conference

Last Friday I had the privilege of teaching a poetry workshop with Elliott D. Smith at the Philadelphia Trans Health Conference’s Kids’ Camp. It was the start of maybe my favorite weekend of ever, since I actually got to help manage the camp the next day. I’m hoping to have something coherent to say soon about how amazing it all was, but for now I’ll share some poems and art.

We did “I Used to Be, Now I Am” poems:

I used to be a dog
but now I am a frog

I used to be a horn
but now I am a tuba

I used to be a peanut
but now I am and acorn

I used to be a star
but now I am the sun

I used to be a pancake
but now I am an elephant


I used to be a boy
but now I’m a girl
I used to be a seed
but now I’m a flower
I used to be a caterpillar
but now I’m a butterfly
I used to be a calf
but now I’m a cow
I used to be an egg
but now I’m an alien

(by Erica)

I used to be a hog
but now I am a dog

I used to be a dingo
but now I play bingo.

I used to be butter
Now I flutter.

So what did I used to be?

(By Noelle)

I used to be a duck
now I’m a chick

I used to be a chick
now I’m a carrot

I used to be a carrot
now I’m a bunny

I used to be a bunny
now I’m a quack!

And and we did mashup poems with Whip My Hair by Willow Smith, Such Great Heights by The Postal Service, Forest Whitaker by Brother Ali, and Boys Don’t Cry by The Cure.

(Remember that when we’re talking about “whipping it real hard,” we do, in fact, mean our hair.)

We kiss they’re perfectly aligned
And I have to speculate that God

I, I gets it in hmm yeah go hard
when they see me pull up, I whip it real hard
I whip it real hard, real hard, I whip it real hard

Imma get more shine that a little bit
soon as I hit the stage, applause I’m hearing it

Whether it’s black stars black cars I’m feeling it
But no other do like I do

In are eyes are mirror images and

I am thinking it’s a sign that the
I say come down now
with a machine.

(my little friend told me it goes in this order:)

Boys don't cry 
so I try to laugh about it
But I know that this time

Plead with you
but I know that

laugh about it



(I'm not sure how to type the upside-down part...)

We don't put our hands over our mouth

You probably bore me
anyway you ain't gotta love me
Imma be all right.

And yo whatever comes up, comes out

My wardrobe is jeans and faded shirt
face type shiny, I stay up and write late nights
I’m not the classic profile of what the ladies want
but when I look in the mirror I see sexy-ass me
Ayo, dependin’ on the day, and dependin’ on what I ate
I’m not mean got a neck full of razor bumps
we don’t put our hands over our mouth
And I’m hairy as hell, everywhere but fingernails
and whatever comes up comes out
we don’t put our hands over our mouths.

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