"If I Should Have a Daughter" Slam Poem by Sarah Kay
“If I should have a daughter…“Instead of “Mom”, she’s gonna call me “Point B.”
Because that way, she knows that no matter what happens, at least she can always
find her way to me. And I’m going to paint the solar system on the back of her
hands so that she has to learn the entire universe before she can say “Oh, I
know that like the back of my hand.”
She’s gonna learn that this life
will hit you, hard, in the face, wait for you to get back up so it can kick you
in the stomach. But getting the wind knocked out of you is the only way to
remind your lungs how much they like the taste of air. There is hurt, here, that
cannot be fixed by band-aids or poetry, so the first time she realizes that
Wonder-woman isn’t coming, I’ll make sure she knows she doesn’t have to wear the
cape all by herself. Because no matter how wide you stretch your fingers, your
hands will always be too small to catch all the pain you want to heal. Believe
me, I’ve tried.
And “Baby,” I’ll tell her “don’t keep your nose up in the
air like that, I know that trick, you’re just smelling for smoke so you can
follow the trail back to a burning house so you can find the boy who lost
everything in the fire to see if you can save him. Or else, find the boy who lit
the fire in the first place to see if you can change him.”
But I know
that she will anyway, so instead I’ll always keep an extra supply of chocolate
and rain boats nearby, ‘cause there is no heartbreak that chocolate can’t fix.
Okay, there’s a few heartbreaks chocolate can’t fix. But that’s what the rain
boots are for, because rain will wash away everything if you let it.
I
want her to see the world through the underside of a glass bottom boat, to look
through a magnifying glass at the galaxies that exist on the pin point of a
human mind. Because that’s how my mom taught me. That there’ll be days like
this, “There’ll be days like this my momma said” when you open your hands to
catch and wind up with only blisters and bruises. When you step out of the phone
booth and try to fly and the very people you wanna save are the ones standing on
your cape. When your boots will fill with rain and you’ll be up to your knees in
disappointment and those are the very days you have all the more reason to say
“thank you,” ‘cause there is nothing more beautiful than the way the ocean
refuses to stop kissing the shoreline no matter how many times it’s sent
away.
You will put the “wind” in win some lose some, you will put the
“star” in starting over and over, and no matter how many land mines erupt in a
minute be sure your mind lands on the beauty of this funny place called
life.
And yes, on a scale from one to over-trusting I am pretty damn
naive but I want her to know that this world is made out of sugar. It can
crumble so easily but don’t be afraid to stick your tongue out and taste
it.
“Baby,” I’ll tell her “remember your mama is a worrier but your papa
is a warrior and you are the girl with small hands and big eyes who never stops
asking for more.”
Remember that good things come in threes and so do bad
things and always apologize when you’ve done something wrong but don’t you ever
apologize for the way your eyes refuse to stop shining.
Your voice is
small but don’t ever stop singing and when they finally hand you heartbreak,
slip hatred and war under your doorstep and hand you hand-outs on street corners
of cynicism and defeat, you tell them that they really ought to meet your
mother.”
― Sarah Kay
Because that way, she knows that no matter what happens, at least she can always
find her way to me. And I’m going to paint the solar system on the back of her
hands so that she has to learn the entire universe before she can say “Oh, I
know that like the back of my hand.”
She’s gonna learn that this life
will hit you, hard, in the face, wait for you to get back up so it can kick you
in the stomach. But getting the wind knocked out of you is the only way to
remind your lungs how much they like the taste of air. There is hurt, here, that
cannot be fixed by band-aids or poetry, so the first time she realizes that
Wonder-woman isn’t coming, I’ll make sure she knows she doesn’t have to wear the
cape all by herself. Because no matter how wide you stretch your fingers, your
hands will always be too small to catch all the pain you want to heal. Believe
me, I’ve tried.
And “Baby,” I’ll tell her “don’t keep your nose up in the
air like that, I know that trick, you’re just smelling for smoke so you can
follow the trail back to a burning house so you can find the boy who lost
everything in the fire to see if you can save him. Or else, find the boy who lit
the fire in the first place to see if you can change him.”
But I know
that she will anyway, so instead I’ll always keep an extra supply of chocolate
and rain boats nearby, ‘cause there is no heartbreak that chocolate can’t fix.
Okay, there’s a few heartbreaks chocolate can’t fix. But that’s what the rain
boots are for, because rain will wash away everything if you let it.
I
want her to see the world through the underside of a glass bottom boat, to look
through a magnifying glass at the galaxies that exist on the pin point of a
human mind. Because that’s how my mom taught me. That there’ll be days like
this, “There’ll be days like this my momma said” when you open your hands to
catch and wind up with only blisters and bruises. When you step out of the phone
booth and try to fly and the very people you wanna save are the ones standing on
your cape. When your boots will fill with rain and you’ll be up to your knees in
disappointment and those are the very days you have all the more reason to say
“thank you,” ‘cause there is nothing more beautiful than the way the ocean
refuses to stop kissing the shoreline no matter how many times it’s sent
away.
You will put the “wind” in win some lose some, you will put the
“star” in starting over and over, and no matter how many land mines erupt in a
minute be sure your mind lands on the beauty of this funny place called
life.
And yes, on a scale from one to over-trusting I am pretty damn
naive but I want her to know that this world is made out of sugar. It can
crumble so easily but don’t be afraid to stick your tongue out and taste
it.
“Baby,” I’ll tell her “remember your mama is a worrier but your papa
is a warrior and you are the girl with small hands and big eyes who never stops
asking for more.”
Remember that good things come in threes and so do bad
things and always apologize when you’ve done something wrong but don’t you ever
apologize for the way your eyes refuse to stop shining.
Your voice is
small but don’t ever stop singing and when they finally hand you heartbreak,
slip hatred and war under your doorstep and hand you hand-outs on street corners
of cynicism and defeat, you tell them that they really ought to meet your
mother.”
― Sarah Kay
Summary
Sarah Kay's poem is talking about if she had a daughter, all that she would tell her and teach her. Sarah mainly talks about the challenges of life and how you have to pick yourself back up, and dust yourself off. She talks about what her mother taught her and what she would teach her daughter. Life is beautiful but it isn't an easy ride. There are ups and downs. Sarah also gives good examples and uses some literacy devices.