Designed and Presented by
Pia Drulard, Nina Gumbs, Nicolas Fayed, Tom Maxwell , Emery Diemar
Reflection
Nostalgia was the driving force behind our pop-up, pushing poets to reconnect with their younger selves and the innocence of childhood. We hope that this deliberate focus will inspire them to craft poems infused with heartfelt sentiment and genuine emotion. For our NAPOMO activity, we will initiate a journey down memory lane, urging poets to reminisce about their elementary school days and select a nostalgic object by spinning a wheel. Who knows what they will select? Perhaps a favorite race car, a playground ball, or a cherished picture book. Writers will be encouraged to delve deep into their recollections, to remember the sights, sounds, and emotions associated with this chosen item. By focusing on a specific object, our hope is to provide a solid foundation for reflection, guiding poets toward a richer exploration of their past experiences.
Pop-Up Activity
Craft a rhyming poem that reflects on a nostalgic object from your elementary school years. This activity will help revisit the nostalgia of elementary school but also give inspiration for poetry. At the start of lunch, we will place a wheel with photographs of childhood items, such as toys, books, and other things of that nature. The participants will close their eyes and spin the wheel. Then, each participant will write a poem inspired by the item they have chosen, reflecting on the memories or emotions it evokes in them.
Inspiration
Sick by Shel Silverstein
"I cannot go to school today,"
Said little Peggy Ann McKay.
"I have the measles and the mumps,
A gash, a rash and purple bumps.
My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,
I'm going blind in my right eye.
My tonsils are as big as rocks,
I've counted sixteen chicken pox
And there's one more—that's seventeen,
And don't you think my face looks green?
My leg is cut—my eyes are blue—
It might be instamatic flu.
I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,
I'm sure that my left leg is broke—
My hip hurts when I move my chin,
My belly button's caving in,
My back is wrenched, my ankle's sprained,
My 'pendix pains each time it rains.
My nose is cold, my toes are numb.
I have a sliver in my thumb.
My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,
I hardly whisper when I speak.
My tongue is filling up my mouth,
I think my hair is falling out.
My elbow's bent, my spine ain't straight,
My temperature is one-o-eight.
My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,
There is a hole inside my ear.
I have a hangnail, and my heart is—what?
What's that? What's that you say?
You say today is. . .Saturday?
G'bye, I'm going out to play!"