Harry Handini

This week, the student poets were invited to contemplate some thoughts by Rainer Marie Rilke: "Hands have a history of their own, they have, indeed, their own civilization, their own special beauty...[they have] their own wishes, feelings, moods, and favorite occupations." After a long discussion about our hands, and what their own histories, moods, loves, and hatreds are, the students were invited to write free verse poems on the topic of their hands. Enjoy the results below!

Ms. Manuel’s Class

My Hands Alone
by Madeline S.

When I write my right hand
does the work.
My left hand just sleeps
when I write.
My hands help me paint
on a canvas.
Sometimes I use my hands
to walk on.
My hands are small.
I use my hands to eat
and do art.
I use my hands to type
messages to my friends.
My hands are there when
I burn them on a hot pan.
My hands wish they
were free.
My hands are helpful
to me.

Harry Handini
by Alanis S.M.

My hands are magicians.
They can take a bunny
out of a hat.
They can escape
from anything. They
can escape from hand-
cuffs. My hands
have a magic life
of their own. My hands
love their talent. They
love themselves. And I
love them too.

My Hands
by Brandon N.

My hands hate the cold. My hands like doing nothing. But usually my hands like opening presents and picking up things like ice cream or something sweet. My hands have a future of working but know they are still 9 years old. In the past, my hand was a lefty, but every time I write with my left hand my grandma will SLAP it.


Ms. Darnell’s Class

Hands
by Lucas M.

Hands, you are
ripped up and
dry and dirty.
Your nails are
long because I
am trying to be
in the Ripley’s Believe
It or Not.
Hand, you are
so dry and red
with viens
coming out of you.
You are the one
who uses my
game cube
controller and
pencil that writes
so sloppy.

Hands
by Brennan Q.

My hands love to play.
They’re always moving and playing
either wrestling or writing.
They always have energy.
They’re big and strong
and like crushing my brother’s hands
or lifting a 5 pound weight.
They can do almost anything –
pitching a baseball, climbing a tree.
My hands are unstoppable.

What do My Hands Hate and Love?
by Bernie J.

My hands love playing
video games. My hands love
typing on the computer. My hands
hate hitting people. My hands
hate doing inappropriate things.
My hands love throwing and
catching footballs. My hands
love sign language.

Hands
by Forenica O.

I can draw with my hands.
I have the Nintendo DS and the Wii for playing with my hands.
I hold a box open for the dog with my hands.
Making cookies and cakes with my hands.
I put my hands in the box for paper.
My hands are for holding pencils and doing homework.
My hands hold balloons on my birthday.

Hands with a Home
by Alina M.

With my cousins I can stand with my legs and jump to my hands.
I can draw with my hands.
I play the Nintendo DS with my hands.
I do my homework with my hands.
I cook with my hands.
I hold my book with my hands.


Ms. Furgason’s Class

My Hands
by Robert G.

My hands do over 1,000 things every
day. They take hits for me and it
hurts them. They are good at lots of things
like tennis and guitar and writing.

My Hand Wish
by Susan S.

My hands wish they can touch fire. My hands wish they can get scrapped without feeling it. My hands wish they can touch anything without feeling any pain. This is what they want to do. They will be magic if this was a wish that came true. This is what they have wanted since they started working. Maybe I can do what I want with them after all.

Handola
by Benjamin N.

My hands have
lots of lines
big
and small
they make
a 1,000 rivers.
Their favorite thing to
do is go up a tree or
make a cake.
With my two
hands I hit
the snow.

The Hand Letter
by Genna G.

What do you want
you pale white hand?
Do you want comfort,
warmth, or freezing cold?
Do you want black
or pink nail polish?
Anything you want your
Majesty, anything for you
Since you do all the work,
I’ll give you everything
in the world. Thank you
for writing this today.


Mrs. Chadhuri’s Class

Hands are Handy
by Ryan R.

They love to feel cotton, pillows
rubber, and forks.

They wish for aloe, clay, and bean bags.

They hate needles, fire, ice, and ink.

They are hard workers for humans, important
“life forms”, but are sometimes mischievous.

Letter from Margaret L. to John R.
by Alexandra S.

Dear John Right,
You have great penmanship, and you are the dominant hand. It is so brave of you to always take the risk to do something before me. All feet are nothing compared to you. You are so flexible and are a great writer. Your stories are always so beautiful! Hope truly I can be like you someday.

Sincerely –
Margaret Left

PS. – I’m your biggest fan!

Hands
by Connor S.

O, hands, what do you
want? What do you need?
What is your wish? Do you
need lotion? Do you need
a piece of ice? Tell me, what
do you want? Hands: A birthday.
What do you want? Hands: to have
fun. Right away, dear hands.

Stories in Hands
by Dante A.

If you gaze into my hands
you can see many stories.

The tattered epidermis
tells of cleaning off glass.
The ink blots
tell of calligraphy.
The faint red markings
tell of pens and markers making marks.

My hands tell stories.