First Hand

Sometimes school work is hard
but it can also be easy and
sometimes well most times you get
more more and more work you may
want to quit but you can keep going
a handful of work is actually nothing.

Today my mom bought me a bag of Hot Cheetos!
I was about to eato.
But one of them screamed “Meow!”
I decided to switch to Lay’s.
I was about to call it a day.
But then one said “don’t touch me or I’ll use
pepper spray!”

Rulers make measurements and
rulers have numbers, there are
so many uses of a ruler, like
measuring angles or a decagon, or
measuring inches of a pickle or sickle

Puppies are so cute
very light to hold
too cute to abandon
and too cute to sleep
very productive dogs
but not puppies
they at least need to open
their eyes of course
and that’s the cutest part
I feel like holding a handful
of puppies!!!!

I’m holding sashimi in my hand
it is shrimp sashimi FYI
and I have a secret
I’m going to eat it!
Also FYI sashimi is a type of sushi

I hold my pencil.
I hold my stencil.
What do I see. I
see stars push the
dark sky away.

Here, here I hold
snacks. Name it.
It will appear
in my hands.

Don’t ask for an
elephant. If you
do I’m doomed.
I can hold a
penny and a
thousand more.

I’m holding a
pencil to tell
everything
to tell lies
and the
truth.

A pencil in my hand
I’m ready to write. A knock on
my door. It’s come to my sight.

A 60 pack of pencils in
my hand. I can finally write my story
now I’m ready, I have cleared my schedule.

It’s time to write my
story about a
duck and a pebble.

pencil ball t-shirt Pablo
Robledo pen water bottle
computer folder crayon
phone toy box fruits

Everything I can hold
is like the cold and freezing water
you left out in the snow. Everything I
can hold like the hook to
crochet with yarn. I can hold
the painting of a Pomeranian you
first made when you were 10.

I’m holding a puzzle a puzzle that’s bright
I’m holding a puzzle a puzzle filled with light
I’m holding a puzzle the puzzle of life
I see my emotions
I see them in motion
the last piece fits in.
And then I die my heart stops I can’t fight
and the puzzle in my hand it turns to light.
And before me is the meaning of life.

Have you ever wondered what you could hold
in your hand? Well I could hold…

a stuffed animal
whose dream it is to be a teacher

or a tub of ice cream
now I’m the keeper of this

or homework
no thanks

or broccoli
I’ll pass

or a book about going to space
wait a second…

and I love dinosaurs
wait a second that’s not me!

I hold a pencil
to make my artwork

I move with
it in different ways.
A swish, a line, and a curve.

Every day I make
a new way to
make something that
will make someone go wow!

Even though it
sometimes makes
someone go boo but
it doesn’t make me
go boohoo!

Now I shall
throw away the old
and make something
new.

Handful, handful, handful. All I have are
handfuls.
Math test, spelling test, i-Ready, reading, gymnastics.
Just a HANDFUL.

I try to balance it out,
but then something else comes up.
Vocab test, Spanish test, homework.
Just another handful.

I can finally balance out
my handful,
but it all just happens again.

Outside
it’s beautiful, wind is blowing nature back and forth.
I run and come back with
a flower.
What is flower thinking about?
Maybe it likes the warmth of the house
or it likes resting in my palm.
It could love seeing outside.
But I know
this flower
is the flower in my hand.

I hold Fred in my hand. He jumps out.
I grab him luckily before he can
escape. Fred says let’s go eat
a burger Fred says I say OK.
We go to the Demure shop I say
one evil burger please. The man
cooks it Hungry Mungry tastes it
by licking it then he says
one evil burger. I take it.
Me and Fred sit down and
I look up. My burger is busting
a move. I struggle with it rip it and
I eat it and me and Fred
get Demure Points.

I remember that
day 5 years ago
the day my brother
was born. I was
a handful to
hold him. I
was 4 that
day and his
head was a
handful
for me.

I hold my cat, my clothes, my food.
For comfort, for cleaning, for eating.

I can hold anything.
Such a small task, yet so big.
Anything can be in my hands.

My headphones, my pencil, my scissors.
To listen, to write, to cut.

Then I leave it all behind
to go hold some more things.

Feeling them, using them, holding them.

I hold you in my arms,
you’re so tiny.

How are you so small and cute?
You’re adorable.

Oh no, you’re crying.
I rock you back and forth.

You fall asleep in my arms.
Good night!

I have nothing in my hands.
Holding air is what I do
anywhere and everywhere.
My hands are ghosted
up, down,
left, right.
I am holding air
but there’s nothing in sight.
Breathe in, keep it there,
holding it tight,
finally letting it out.
Wheezing so hard.
My hands are still ghosted.
I float safely to my heart.
In and out, out and in.
All hearts at work
beating for life.

I’m holding a jar of cookies:
they are gone in seconds.
Slime in my hands with my brother next to me.
It’s now in his face.

A spider in my hands,
my mom will never be forgiven for letting
that thing out of its cage.

Broccoli in my hands:
don’t even get me started on that.
McDonald’s in my hands:
they disappeared faster than the cookies!

Then there are other things as well.
My head in my hands,
tears falling.
My hands are full!
Sweat dripping.

Sometimes good, sometimes bad.
But there will be choices to make
with things in your hands.

Would you eat the cookie?
Would you throw the slime?

One thing that is always in our hands:
choices.

What will you do?

Will the slime stay in your hands,
or your brother’s face?

Choices choices choices.

Soccer balls in my hands.
Soccer balls on my feet.
Soccer balls in the air
in a soccer game.

What am I holding,
what am I throwing,
where did I get this,
I feel like I’m holding
something I can’t touch it
but for some reason I can
feel it. I feel like
I’m hiding my feelings but
what am I feeling?

hands are amazing
with them you can
do anything like
play video games

I can hold happiness I can hold joy I
can hold all feelings in the palm of my
hand.

As I reach my hands into the
sky, I see all of the colors
in my hand. But as I try and
grasp this feeling, my
hand realizes that it’s light.
Suddenly the colors start
fading. It becomes clear
that this was a rainbow
and it was a dream. As
I let this feeling fade
the colors become my
hands. But maybe
in the future I could feel
this wonderful feeling
and the wonderful sight
again. But maybe my
dream could become a
real sight, but where’s the
chance? But who knows.
Maybe I could keep
it as a memory instead.

I can’t hold it, but I can feel it.

I feel it inside me. Feels like happiness but also
like sadness.

It’s like I can hold it.

It’s the nerve in my hand.

Sometimes I feel sad.

Sometimes happy.

It feels like an object. But I can’t recognize it.

Happy season and sad season.

It’s like a mini emotion rollercoaster…

I held in my hand a pencil, a brush, or a marker.
A canvas ready for paint ready for someone to admire.
An artist’s desire. A piece of delicate work.