Monthly Archives: April 2011

An Original Poem from Poetry Month Emcee, Hannah Brencher

Sing the Solar System

By Hannah Brencher

My favorite pair of arms perform a wondrous magic trick.

Arms with the mysterious ability
to hold you tight and let you go.
All in the very same moment.

My mother and her mystical arms pull me in
each morning
beneath the papaya trees. Eating toast and jam,
we brush watercolor beauty into my school lessons.

Name the colors of this sunrise, Little One. She asks of me.
Count the spaces between your fingers and mine.
Sing to me the planets of the solar system.

Hannah Brencher: She's the First Poetry Month Emcee, hannah@shesthefirst.org

Mercury, Mars, Venus, Earth,
Pluto, Uranus, Neptune, Jupiter, and Saturn.
All spinning beneath the papaya trees with me, mama,
and her Great Magical Arms.

Little One, she asked one day.
What do you dream to be?
When you gather up all your learning,
what do you dream to be?

A question that cannot be answered with counting or naming.
An answer that propels you
out to the stars
to spin and jig among the nine planets.

A difference, Mama. I answered.
I want to understand the differences of this world.
Grow big. Grow strong.
And then make the difference disappear.

Ah, Little One. She said turning me around to face her.
Her wrinkles whisper testimonies of great wisdom.
You can know the difference
and wash the difference away all at the very same time.

Simply walk 1,000 steps. And then walk 10,000 more.
Read this map I have drawn myself to find the one who looks just like you.
Look for the difference in her and when you find it,
there you will find all you dream to be.

And so I set out with the sun the following morning.
Coaxing it from its crouching position
behind the hills.
A Golden-Ray Travel Companion.

One Thousand Steps. Ten Thousand More.
Following a delicately drawn map,
created by the hands
of my Great Armed Mother.

And there,
by the brook that chattered as he babbled,
stood a girl
who looked just like me.

May I look deep into your eyes?
I asked the Young Girl.
Yes, you may.
She answered.

Deep Brown. The same as me.

May I touch your hair?
I asked the Young Girl.
Yes, you may.
She answered.

Rich and soft. The same as me.

May I ask you your name?
I asked the Young Girl.
I have many names, she replied.
But my mama calls me Little One.

Little One. The same as me.

Same Elbows.
Same Knees.
Same Missing Teeth.
Same Hairs On Her Head.

I am supposed to find the difference in you. I told her.
And yet I can find none.
You and I,
we are the same.

And so, together, me and my Same Girl laid down
beneath the blanket of the night sky.
Clouds for cotton.
Stars for buttons.

Friend?
She asked me,
her fingers folding into mine.
How did you find me?

I counted 1,000 steps. And then 10,000 more. I told her.

Counting. She repeated. I am sure I know nothing of that.

And then I read a map my mother drew for me. I continued on.

Reading. She repeated. I am sure I know nothing of that.
If you are looking for our difference,
it is sitting right here, friend.

I only dream to count and read, to sit beneath
papaya trees and name the solar system’s
Planet Children as if they were pupils of mine.

I am just one of many
Who aches for school books to hold
and a uniform to tug at the collar of.

I am just one of many who longs to recite poetry
And sing the solar system
as if it were my lungs’ favorite lullaby.

Hold your school lessons up to the sunlight, friend.
You will then see the difference that needs washing away.
I am the first you found, yes,
but I will be the first of many girls who are the same kind of different as me.

Begin with me? She asked. I am eager to begin.

And so there, beneath the blanket night sky,
we made a beginning.
The first beginning of many.
The First Beginning of Many.

I taught her Saturn. I taught her Neptune.
We counted the spaces between her fingers.
Then counted the spaces between mine.

For we had the same spaces. We had the same night.
We had the same stars and the Same Wide Eyes.
We had the same dream, the same Big Dream,
of seeing the difference between us fall away.

Inspirational Poetry from the Girls at Project Education Sudan

We are reaching the final stretch of our Poetry Month Campaign and I have loved every second of being able to share my passion for poetry with all of you. From our poetry workshop in Brooklyn with Poet Azure Antoinette to the beautiful poetry written by some of the girls at our schools in India and Nepal, we have had a great time bringing National Poetry Month to She’s the First.

Today we have a special treat that will help pull this whole campaign together. The goal of our poetry campaign is to sponsor a girl’s primary education at Project Education Sudan. We are hoping to reach this goal through the selling of ecards. Ecards are $4 via Paypal. They are easy to order, super cute, and the perfect thing to send to loved ones throughout the springtime holidays.

Buy one! Buy three! Send a special gift straight to someone’s inbox.

In honor of our ecard sales, we are happy to share with you some of the original poetry from the girls at Project Education Sudan. The girls worked hard to produce these outstanding works. Thanks so much!

POETRY

Oh! Oh! Put learning in your heart,
So that you may escape the sweat of hard labor,
Or become a woman of reputation for lazy girl,
Who can recall that of the lazy girl,
Who was lazy in her school?
Lazy  she is loaded down like an ass,
Like a beast that carries for her master.
Who knows what she really worth?
Set your heart on learning,
So that you may, direct the work of the world.

By RACHAEL AKUOT DANIEL (p8)

CHILD OF THE FUTURE

I am a small child, but i am the person of the future.
I am the goodness of my land and I will do my best.
Teach me that my mind may accept the word of learning.
Learning is power; learning is the best in life today ever.

By REBECCA AJOH MAKUACH (P6) Anguei Girls’ p/s

THE STAR

Oh the star! Above the sky so high.
How I wonder, what you are so up!
So bright at night in the sky held up.
Oh the star! Above the sky so high.

Oh the star ! As shinning object.
So beautiful, so coloring to my night.
How I wonder what you are so up!
So twinkling up, so bright at night.

Oh the star! As a little child by age,
you make my  night so happy so nice.
How I wonder what you are so up!
So glowing up, so changing diamond.

By DIING CHOL GAI (p8) Anguei Girls p/s

Poem Picks from STF Executive Director, Christen Brandt

Christen in Guatemala this past January, visiting the Starfish One by One program

Yes, it is the weekend and my school books should be closed but I could not resist dishing a little history out about the start and evolution of poetry. We have the ancient Greeks to thank for giving us the modern day poem. They are ones who actually coined the term “poem,” meaning “a thing made.” Since 750 BC, poetry has evolved into several different forms and rhythms, providing us with much space to pick and choose our favorite poem styles and poets throughout the century.

Christen Brandt, Executive Director of She’s the First, sent in her favorite poems from the classics to share with all of us today! Thank you for the submission Christen!

You Begin, by Margaret Atwood

You begin this way:
this is your hand,
this is your eye,
that is a fish, blue and flat
on the paper, almost

the shape of an eye.
This is your mouth, this is an O
or a moon, whichever
you like. This is yellow.

Outside the window
is the rain, green
because it is summer, and beyond that
the trees and then the world,

which is round and has only
the colors of these nine crayons.

This is the world, which is fuller
and more difficult to learn than I have said.
You are right to smudge it that way
with the red and then

the orange: the world burns.

Once you have learned these words
you will learn that there are more
words than you can ever learn.
The word hand floats above your hand
like a small cloud over a lake.

The word hand anchors
your hand to this table,
your hand is a warm stone
I hold between two words.

This is your hand, these are my hands, this is the world,
which is round but not flat and has more colors

than we can see.

It begins, it has an end,
this is what you will
come back to, this is your hand.

“Growing Up” by Liz Ann Báez Aguilar:

When I grow up,
I want to be a doctor.

M’ija, you will patched scraped knees
and wipe away children’s tears.

But what if I become an architect?

M’ija, you will build beautiful houses
where children will sing and play.

And what if I become a teacher?

M’ija, you will teach
your students to read every day.

But what if I become a famous chef?

M’ija, your arroz con pollo
will be eaten with gusto.

And Mami, what if I want to be like you someday?

M’ija, why do you want to be like me?

Oh Mami, because you care for people, our house is built on love,
you are wise, and your spicy stew tastes delicious.

Have a favorite poem from one of the greats? Big time lover of Emily Dickinson? We want you to share it with us! Send your favorite rhythms and rhymes to poetry@shesthefirst.org to have them featured on this blog!

Don’t forget to purchase a She’s the First ecard this week! They arrived just in time for spring holidays and are ready and waiting to dive into the inbox of your loved ones. Ecards are $4 via Pay Pal and all proceeds go towards Project Education Sudan.

Stay tuned later in the week for some original poetry from the girls in Sudan!