Thanks to @bethanAngharad on twitter for this one from her kid.

A trollop’s a big troll

A trolley’a a littlun 

A trough’s where they eat

(They like chocolates and chitlin’s)

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Elvis is a male elf

Elvira’s a female.

They’re quite technophobic

And never send emails 

A sprite is a fairy

A fanta’s a ghost

7-up is the minimum 

Of Snow White’s hosts

Universe is the name

Of the unicorn nation 

A unique is a cheap

Unicorn imitation 

Some words can have meanings

I do not extol

So yes dear. A trollop’s 

A very big troll.

Adults can do what they like with their bodies

And when you’re an adult, well, then you can too

Whatever you want, you can do with your body

Whatever you want, that is what you should do

Your hair you can dye any colour you fancy 

And if you would like, you can get a tattoo

And eyebrows and navels and lips you can pierce

Whatever you want that is what you should do.

Some people want very big holes in their ears

But some people, equally, don’t, it is true

So if you would like, get tattooed, and get pierced

But don’t, if you don’t want to: it’s up to you.

Another question from my sex education days, from a very earnest 11 year old. The things people think are true, or not true, about HIV never cease to amaze me. This one was one of the more sensible questions I’ve had.

If when you got a cold, you died

You’d never sneeze and pass it on.

For once a virus gets inside,

You can’t transmit it if you’ve gone

And HIV is really smart

It doesn’t want its host to know

It’s there. It wouldn’t stop your heart

For then wherever would it go?

The virus needs you seeming fit

And never knowing that it’s there

It wants to be passed on and it’s

More likely if you’re unaware

You could be ill. But, if you are

It’s best to find out: face your fears.

The treatments now have come so far

They’ll keep you well for years and years 

Nobody, now, should die of this

But people do not want to know.

They think that ignorance is bliss

But it is deadly, though it’s slow.

A Shakespearean sonnet for a rather odd discussion from my teaching assistant days.

Shall I compare our modern life to his?

We are more technologically advanced

He knew so much, but not what iTunes is.

He never owned an iPod, though he danced.

Some time has passed, since Shakespeare walked the earth,

And often we forget how much has changed.

The electronic era and the birth 

Of e-communications, he’d find strange.

It’s difficult for you to understand 

That William had no electric light

To write by. That he wrote his plays by hand 

Your words tell me you cannot grasp his plight

How do I know you haven’t got it yet?

“He must have had his music on cassette”

Got asked this in a school assembly to Year 8 about homophobia. I may possibly have laughed.
(I did write this yesterday but had no net access. )

Yes, lesbians do come from Lesbos

For that is what “lesbian” means.

A “lesbian”‘s “someone from Lesbos”

No matter which way someone leans.

But not all of the people from Lesbos

Are lesbians. Differently stated:

Some lesbians don’t come from Lesbos.

(I can see why you might get frustrated.)

But there once was a woman from Lesbos

Known as Sappho. She liked to write verse

About women she loved, out on Lesbos

And some people think there’s nothing worse.

Than a woman who brought fame to Lesbos: 

With her plaudits, so rightfully earned,

Having sex with the women of Lesbos

And a lot of her poems were burned.

And when women, like Sappho of Lesbos,

Who love women as others love men

Are called “lesbians” “sapphic” or “lesbos”

We remember the poet again.

And though some of the people of Lesbos

Don’t approve of this use of their name,

To be lesbian (“gay” or “from Lesbos”)

Is a reason for pride, not for shame.

A friend of a friend’s nine year old has been worrying about the brain in a vat theory. 

You might be a brain in a vat

There’s not much you can do about that:

Every thing that you feel

May not even be real

You might not be wearing a hat.

Because you might not have a head:

Your body, by now, might be dead

And cold on a slab

While your brain’s in a lab

In a life-giving fluid, instead

All the things that you see and you hear

All you love and you dream and you fear

That could all be a code

That a scientist wrote

So the world only seems to appear   

And the people you’ve known along 

Could be no more substantial than song

But then how can you lose?

You can do what you choose

And nothing can ever be wrong.

But the problem is, what if you’re NOT?

When your hand’s in a fire, it feels hot:

This assumption is sane:

Other people feel pain

Just like you: empathy’s your best shot.

Yes, you might be a brain in a jar

Because none of us know what we are.

But if you’re just a mind

Well, you still can be kind:

And if all this is real, you’re a star!

A friend’s cousin asked what beefcake was and then came to the understandable conclusion that it must be a cannibal delicacy.

Some foods do have misleading names:

E.G.: toad in the hole contains

No toads. And hot dogs, (one would hope,)

Contain no dog. It’s just a joke.

And it’s the same with beefcake: there’s

No beef at all. But no one cares.

You could eat beef, but then, who would,

When humans taste so very good? 

One of many questions asked by Josiah, courtesy of NPR. 

You are an animal 

With teeth and blood and hunger.

But unlike most animals 

But just like me,

You know the concept “animal”

And that there are animals

And there are not-animals

So you will always be

The kind of animal that doubts

 Its animality. 

My name is Mummy Long Legs

You’ve never heard of me

But I don’t sit at home,

Making the larvae eat their tea

There’s also Auntie Long Legs

You’ve seen her, round about,

And when you call her “Daddy”

She really gets put out.

There’s old Grandmother Long Legs 

And Uncle Long Legs too,

And Little Baby Long Legs

(Though she is pretty new,)

And yes, there’s Daddy Long Legs:

He always takes the credit

(If you ask me, those

Etymology books need an edit.)

Cos I am Mummy Long Legs:

And I am here, you see

When you see me, then don’t assume

I’m Daddy: I am ME!

At the wise and sage age of eight Izz wondered why (if she was so committed to the idea of freedom of oppression for all peoples) his mother would not allow him the basic human right of midnight cycling.

Yes, you can ride your bike now, but you may not.

And sometimes parents have to be that mean.

You feel you’re being oppressed But I would say not.

Oppression’s not a thing that you have seen.

Yes, I am laying down a regulation

You could go out and cycle now, you’re right.

It has nothing to do with earth’s rotation:

A bike will go fast, whether day or night 

Riding at night, in darkness, carries dangers

And you are young and so you need your rest

The night’s a time of shadows, chills and strangers

So stay inside at night: that would be best.

When you are older, you may ride by moonlight 

But just for now, you have to stay inside.

Go back to bed. You know it will be soon light.

And when the sun’s up, then, my dear, you’ll ride.