{"id":241,"date":"2010-12-26T20:36:24","date_gmt":"2010-12-27T00:36:24","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/blog.sherryquanlee.com\/?p=241"},"modified":"2010-12-26T22:55:52","modified_gmt":"2010-12-27T02:55:52","slug":"assignment-number-four-hands","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blog.sherryquanlee.com\/?p=241","title":{"rendered":"Assignment Number Four: Hands"},"content":{"rendered":"

It’s been sometime since I wrote a poem or posted a blog entry.\u00a0 My mentor gave me an assignment to use the “triggering subject” of hands.\u00a0 I often wonder where the words come from.\u00a0 But here they are, straight from my pen to paper to computer-honest to God, I’ve made no revisions.\u00a0 I can’t touch this poem (sorry mentor, I didn’t write a 2-3 page prose piece this time), not yet, not now (okay, I had problems cutting and pasting so the orignial format is off and I can’t seem to fix it).<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

If anyone knows the history of “here is the church here is the steeple”\u00a0 I would like to know.\u00a0 I haven’t taken the time to “google” it.*<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Assignment Number Four:\u00a0 Hands<\/span><\/h2>\n

Here is the church, here is the steeple, open\u00a0the door\u00a0and see all the people.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

INSIDE HANDS, MEMORY<\/h2>\n

Here is the church, here is the steeple, open\u00a0the door\u00a0and see all the people.<\/em><\/p>\n

1.\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Hands that pray, hands that play. Hands in the sand building castles.\u00a0 Rivers of<\/p>\n

clay. Sand in the shoes in the socks.\u00a0 Restless hands.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

2.\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Mother\u2019s hands.\u00a0 Sewing. Stirring the empty pot.\u00a0 Stretching pennies.\u00a0 Counting<\/p>\n

the children, 1-2-3-4-5.\u00a0 Hands too tired to pray the day the baby died.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

3.\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Hands that touch to be touched.\u00a0 Hands that flee.\u00a0 Forgiving hands.\u00a0 Hands that<\/p>\n

write.\u00a0 Hands that reach for the sky for the blue for the moon for the body for<\/p>\n

the man for the woman for the child.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

4.\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Hands that ache.\u00a0 That can\u2019t make the next generation of hands not hurt.\u00a0 Can\u2019t<\/p>\n

wash away history embedded in the hands of children or mothers or fathers.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

5.\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Hands that shoot guns, detonate bombs, cinch ropes, bury the dead in the name<\/p>\n

of God, fighting for God against God.\u00a0 There is only one God.\u00a0 Hands lost in<\/p>\n

the name of God.\u00a0 For God\u2019s sake we must take back the hands.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

    \n
  1. The veins in my hands are rivers of mud.\u00a0 Stories flowing around the castle of<\/li>\n<\/ol>\n

    hope.\u00a0 Wrinkles of time gather abundantly covering the innocence of here is <\/em><\/p>\n

    the church.<\/em> Yet, I take my grandchild\u2019s hand into my own and show him the door<\/p>\n

    and where the people are hidden.<\/em><\/p>\n

    \u00a0<\/p>\n

    \u00a0<\/p>\n

    Sherry Quan Lee<\/p>\n

    December 26, 2010<\/p>\n

    \u00a0<\/p>\n

    *Okay, my curiosity got the better of me.\u00a0 Wouldn’t you know “Google” has all the answers, but I’m glad I didn’t research this rhyme before I wrote the poem, it probably would have been a different poem.<\/p>\n

    http:\/\/www.google.com\/search?sourceid=navclient&ie=UTF-8&rlz=1T4HPIA_enUS316US246&q=here+is+the+church+here+is+the+steeple<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

    It’s been sometime since I wrote a poem or posted a blog entry.\u00a0 My mentor gave me an assignment to use the “triggering subject” of hands.\u00a0 I often wonder where the words come from.\u00a0 But here they are, straight from my pen to paper to computer-honest to God, I’ve made …<\/p>\n

    Continue reading<\/span><\/i><\/a> <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[14,5,7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-241","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-assignments","category-imagining-love","category-the-art-of-writing"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.sherryquanlee.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/241","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.sherryquanlee.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.sherryquanlee.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.sherryquanlee.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.sherryquanlee.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=241"}],"version-history":[{"count":13,"href":"https:\/\/blog.sherryquanlee.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/241\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":252,"href":"https:\/\/blog.sherryquanlee.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/241\/revisions\/252"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.sherryquanlee.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=241"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.sherryquanlee.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=241"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.sherryquanlee.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=241"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}