#hand
I kissed her lips, and there it lay,
A spark too bright, it burned the way.
My heart, a knight, too bold in jest,
Did strike the blade into her chest.
But playful are the steps of doom,
A laugh can bloom, then seal the tomb.
I held her safe, too tight a grasp,
Her breath escaped; love did not last.
Desire swelled and drowned the air,
Its weight too fierce for one to bear.
Yet love, a riddle, thrives to die,
For every fire must meet the sky.
May 23
May 23, 2026 at 11:26 PM UTC
a deeper sleep
yet wide awake
burdened knowledge
bars of your cage.
May 6
May 6, 2026 at 8:13 AM UTC
Within me,
your memory dwells
like the toll of somber
midnight bells—
carrying through the cold;
its chimes echo,
resonating
through my soul.
O’er the moors,
moonlight shines;
the fog reveals
a spectral image
of our love once divine.
The bells toll on
through the midnight dark;
each lonely hour
I count and mark.
Forever, you will live
within the chambers of my heart.
Mar 30
Mar 30, 2026 at 3:55 PM UTC
kiss that soft part of me
the one i used to hide underneath
scales of armour covering
my delicate heart, ruby red
my eyes have been known to shed
i leak tears like nightmares poke fears
i keep near the villains to feel dear
cheer for me and tell me you love me
tell me that this was all for nothing
tell me that this was just bluffing
tell me, tell me
i am no longer buying the fake dreams you are selling, i see, i see
uncovering all the hidden truths
the unspoken rules that you have
i understand the games you bet
i will win this turn of the hand
Mar 17
Mar 17, 2026 at 3:52 PM UTC
My heart was a hand grenade
that never stopped exploding.
The things I'd say
lonely exploring,
adventurer on solo journeys,
swearing honesty, truly.
Fighting to prove our love,
drowning in flowers
grown from far above.
Connected in the most ill of ways
sickened by the thought of you,
stuck like a fly in glue.
You vanquished me.
I resurrected,
swore an oath
your heart, I'd protect it.
Feb 25
Feb 25, 2026 at 11:50 AM UTC
I write you this time,
this last breath of mine,
to tell you
I’d do it again
You can take my hand,
or my head, or my heart
You’re worthy
of wasting my time
But know old friend,
no knife is the sharpest
no object cuts deep
as your words
I write you this time,
my final breath is mine,
But I’ll bleed out
Forever yours
Jan 3
Jan 3, 2026 at 2:40 AM UTC
Greeting a stranger,
Offering a helping hand,
Caressing a broken heart,
Chatting with a lonely soul.
Being someone’s ladder, a lifeboat,
Painting a smile on someone’s face.
Reciting a hopeful prayer,
Sharing a cup of coffee with a neighbor,
Losing yourself in serving others,
Enjoying the company of a loved one.
Treating others as equals in humanity,
Chanting the song of freedom and liberty.
Enjoying the little things, learning a new skill,
Chasing your dreams, living a full life.
Playing with a child, petting a pet,
Reading a book or composing a poem.
Pouring your heart into your work,
Being a catalyst for positive change.
Being drunk on nature’s beauty,
Watching the birth of a new spring.
Planting a tree and watering a flower,
Listening to the songs of rain
And the whisper of the wind.
Observing the awakening of a new day,
The glow of sunset and the rising of the moon.
— Hussein Dekmak
Dec 20, 2025
Dec 20, 2025 at 3:57 PM UTC
Every time you reach out your hand,
I slap it away, as if you’ve burned me.
You’re just being a decent friend,
While I fear this sense of intimacy.
A lonely monarch with a paper crown,
Trapped inside his castle, smiling through a frown,
Yet, you reach out your hand.
I’d hate to try to be my friend.
You offered to take me home,
I declined and waited for my family to arrive.
Had I gone with you, I wouldn’t have stood in the cold,
And you live nearby.
I panicked, I shut down,
My paper crown fell down my brow.
I quickly readjusted it,
Said I was fine, but thanks again,
And slapped away your hand.
Deep down, I’m a mess.
Who finds melancholy in bliss.
Yet, you still try to save me,
When I attempt to lock myself inside.
You rise up like a daisy,
Even when the world is feeling hazy.
Shining brightly through the Sun’s hues,
I’ve always wondered if I could be a daisy too.
It saddens me to admit,
That I’m fearful of having a friend.
Isolationism,
Personal despotism.
When you reach out your hand,
I think about the people that I’ve met;
The ones who hurt me,
Broke me down,
Turned my smile,
Into a frown.
So, I slap your hand away,
Pain plastered on my face.
If I weren’t so awkward, anxious, and hurt,
Then maybe, one day,
When you reach out your hand,
I’ll take it, and everything will be okay.
Dec 17, 2025
Dec 17, 2025 at 4:32 PM UTC
Anything you touch
becomes a treasure
only my heart can measure.
So why don’t you touch me too,
and make me priceless
to no one else but you?
Dec 4, 2025
Dec 4, 2025 at 6:46 PM UTC
Did I need you
To feed me
Did I bite
Your hand as
You withdrew
Why would
You mind
If you were
Never there
And it was
Not attached
To you
Dec 3, 2025
Dec 3, 2025 at 2:28 PM UTC
Do not let it snow in a state
That an inch is the end of the world. We
All need a little help,
…Sometimes…
Or, more than we’d
Like to admit.
So, please,
This Thanksgiving, let it snow.
Be thankful if[/that] a hand,
While drowning, reaches for you,
From below, but would you take it?
…And see the layering of ice above?
©2025Ellen Finn
Nov 26, 2025
Nov 26, 2025 at 6:17 PM UTC
Don’t let it “be the end”. We
All need a little help,
…Sometimes…
Or, more than we’d
Like to admit.
So, please,
Be thankful if[/that] a hand,
While drowning, reaches for you,
From below, but would you take it?
…And see the beautiful bubbles above?
©2025Ellen Finn
Nov 26, 2025
Nov 26, 2025 at 5:14 PM UTC
I step out—
the storm has passed,
but the puddles shimmer pink.
Let it go.
The next one appears
out of nowhere.
Pink bleeds into red,
and my shoes
don’t look like mine anymore.
I clench my fists
to hold onto anything—
but my skin
doesn’t feel like his.
Just let it go,
I whisper—
but how can I heal
when it comes out of nowhere?
I can’t stop stepping into him.
Him.
Him.
Him.
Nov 17, 2025
Nov 17, 2025 at 10:01 PM UTC
I arrived barefoot
tongue heavy with borrowed syntax
eyes trained on the flicker between gestures
the way a hand hesitates before reaching
the way silence folds itself into a question.
I mistook bruises for constellations
mapped them across the skin like ancient routes
each one a pilgrimage
each one a failed translation.
I thought pain had grammar
that longing could be conjugated
into something less feral.
the heart is not a scroll.
it does not unroll neatly.
it bleeds through the margins
smudges the ink
laughs at the scholar in me
who still believes in clarity.
I touched someone once
and felt their grief like static
a hum beneath the ribs
a Morse code of everything unsaid.
I tried to decode it
but the symbols kept shifting
love became hunger
hunger became apology
apology became a door
I could not open.
I am still learning
that some hieroglyphs are meant to be lived
not read.
that some wounds speak in tongues
only the body understands.
that to be human
is to misinterpret
and keep interpreting
until the ache becomes a kind of fluency.
Sep 26, 2025
Sep 26, 2025 at 5:47 PM UTC
Your eyelids flutter,
Your hand slips into mine,
Warm touch on your thigh
Your eyes half-shut-
Bittersweet sips of wine,
We don´t dance around the truth-
We share fantasy with grace
I´m pretending-
A narrative you´re inventing,
I rehearse my lines aloud,
Staring at the shared sky,
As we both lie.
Sep 23, 2025
Sep 23, 2025 at 1:52 PM UTC
_give it to the night sky,_
i whisper, looking down at our intertwined hands—
sweaty as they are, my palm amongst yours.
you tighten the grip just right,
looking me in the eye,
pleading silently to never let go.
i smile, as i usually do,
but this one carries the hint of weakness—
the feeling brought by you.
and i look back up; the moon stares—
like a mother, like a father, like a family.
it holds you and i under its pale light,
surrounding us,
despite the dark enclosing us from all sides.
_give it to the night sky,_
i say again, broken at the end.
you shake your head—
_i can't,_ i hear you mumble,
makes me cry, i hold it in.
_you could, give all this love to the night sky,
let me go,
and i'll dream about you._
_but is it really necessary?
i promised to stay._
so you do.
i see strength,
and i see the way it fits you—
it comes in waves
until it grapples over you.
and while the dark seeps right across your chest
through the tendrils of my hand,
you never let go.
i watch you break,
wait for you to disintegrate,
as i've always feared—
except the smile never quite leaves your face.
and you give me the look,
looking straight into my eyes once more.
you smile the same way you did the first day,
and the day i told you who i am,
and the day you saw me destroy the world around us—
the same inkling of love
disguised as the passion of a fool.
_aren't you a fool_
you never let go,
even as my murk surrounds you.
it circles,
ensnares,
screams,
and cries—
but you hold my hand tight all that while.
and when i see it take over you,
thoroughly,
i break down—
like a glass piece shattering.
can't afford to look back up,
can't look at your face.
what have i done,
after all this time,
_once again?_
squeezing my insides,
finding something—
the same anchor of the heavy
that's held me down all this while.
the feeling so floaty,
i start losing grip of your arm.
and as it falls nimbly to your side,
i can't look at your face.
but there's a shimmer in the night.
the dark is overshadowed—
never has it happened,
but it does now,
as the moon brightens twice.
and your voice echoes—
first in my mind,
then my heart,
and slowly it takes over me,
as a cold hand searches for mine.
the grip is back—
it grounds so light,
unlike what i was before.
you make me look up,
and i see it in your eyes:
no murk, none of mine,
even though tendrils of it
snake around your neck
and give way into lines—
lines shadowed by a glow,
a glow so pure and bright.
you still carry the same smile,
and it makes me cry.
_you withheld it all,_
i question,
hoping you won't fade away into oblivion.
there are stars in your eyes,
and i see the hearts in mine.
the night glimmers,
and i feel alive.
_brought you back to life, didn't i promise?_
_it could have killed you—
they always mentioned it did._
_none of them had the urge,
or the strength,
or saw through you the right way, perhaps._
i chuckle.
_perhaps—
i wasn't worth enough of that._
_hey, what of me—_
_well, love, my love,
tie u and i, i shall
our hands together
let this feeling swell,
and you're right,
i'll give you it—
you did bring me back to life._
Jul 17, 2025
Jul 17, 2025 at 2:37 PM UTC
A moment for the moon
half-dipped in midnight
A soft sigh escapes
embellished with stars
as it crawls back
into your atmosphere
holding in its center
a small whisper of
an outstretched hand
Jul 5, 2025
Jul 5, 2025 at 7:19 PM UTC
Let alone a banyan tree,
A branch is much bigger than me.
I am not big.
The sun seems like a palette of colour.
As I see the big print,
It amazes me even more.
Colour drifts, painting sweet spots,
Shedding hardly any space at all—
Only a hand’s palm size, that’s all,
For its spectacular masterstroke: a rose!
Mar 16, 2025
Mar 16, 2025 at 11:22 PM UTC
I remember your hands.
They are strong and gentle!
I remember your eyes.
They're incredibly deep!
I remember your lips.
They're so mint and sinner!
I remember your voice.
It's the passion indeed!
I remember all:
As I was without you,
Alone as a pup,
Thrown into a ditch.
Weltered in life,
Ruined disgusting.
I was forgotten,
Dusted and *******
I remember you.
You looked afar,
Past me at all,
As if an unknown.
You were so scared.
You chickened out,
You disappeared.
I'm now a stone.
Mar 11, 2025
Mar 11, 2025 at 5:25 PM UTC
Anatomically
If you were to remove my tongue,
I would still have
The pen and the inkwell.
Ontologically
If you were to take out my tongue,
And the pen from my hand,
I would still think, feel, and live my poetry.
Ethically
If you were to tear out my heart,
What use would I have
For the pen and the inkwell?
Dec 12, 2024
Dec 12, 2024 at 6:36 AM UTC
I proffered my hand in friendship
you grasped it like a lifeline
imbuing me with what you thought
a friend should be, expectations
far beyond my offer
of biscuits and a cuppa by PG
Dec 4, 2024
Dec 4, 2024 at 12:43 PM UTC
I still crave the flavour of your skin, though it brings me great pain,
As the flames of desire flicker and sway, we’ll endeavour to endure,
Clinging tightly beneath the blazing sun, in summer's fierce allure,
Together, trying to brave the tempests, in love's unyielding pursuit.
Dinner awaits us at eight – do not tarry; dreams lie upon your plate,
Nourished by my affection, a sip of your soft skin grazes my lips;
Each touch of yours leaves me lost, grappling with how to respond –
Your wisdom eclipses my own, a realm I can scarcely comprehend.
No man has truly kissed every maiden under the sun, yet the world
Shrinks for those who cross paths with the echoes of their past flames.
Relative justice; I strive to connect, yet potential lovers have slipped
Through my fingers, leaving me a solitary figure, comforted by a hand.
And this fills me with grief, a tempest of shame; distanced by anguish,
Haunted by choices that replay like relentless echoes in my mind.
I dread living solely for another's affection, yet I fear even more
The withering of my own love, fading into the abyss of neglect.
Nov 25, 2024
Nov 25, 2024 at 1:24 PM UTC
I've been watching you
Holding hands with her
The way I felt
I could never describe in words
Yet, I still hid from you
I looked devastated
And I still do
Wonder
What did she do
To get to hold hands with you.
Nov 20, 2024
Nov 20, 2024 at 12:15 AM UTC