#npmhands
When I was younger
I looked at my parents hands
As they engulfed mine
And I wondered when I would
Be big enough to carry so much
Whether it be groceries or burdens
And now, as an adult, my hands
Are still so much smaller
I hope my hands can hold onto
What I love
Apr 29, 2017
Apr 29, 2017 at 5:40 PM UTC
When what you want
Touches the ends of your fingers
Hold my hand
So you can grab it
*If it's still not enough
Hold my other hand too
You are enough.*
Apr 22, 2017
Apr 22, 2017 at 9:28 AM UTC
hands.
each a set of
5 fingers
a personal spider web
links us to the world
the delicate curvature
effortlessly bends and twists
like a winding road
stretching on and on
hands outstretched
like an eagle in flight, soaring
helping/loving/achieving
but also;
hurting/hating/ failing
each line
drawn on our palms
so haphazardly
by its calculated artist
our perfect imperfection
such lovely flaws,
bind us to our
faithful predestination
our bodies-
a lost compass, searching
our minds-
a wanderlust dreamer, waiting
for love,
our perfect traveler
(b.d.s.)
Apr 20, 2017
Apr 20, 2017 at 10:58 PM UTC
Even before I knew
What you really are to me
A friend, a bestfriend, a lover
*I knew you are someone
I wouldn't want to leave*
So hold my hand
I won't let go.
Apr 20, 2017
Apr 20, 2017 at 10:04 AM UTC
We're playing cards.
You're queen of hearts,
I'm heart of shards.
You're a work of art.
I'm caught off guard,
Apr 20, 2017
Apr 20, 2017 at 3:35 AM UTC
So soft and loving,
Your hands on my face
I felt special and warm
I knew you cared
So deft and strong
The way you kneaded dough
I learned at your hands
To feed those I love
With your hand in mine
I always felt brave
I could conquer any thing
A little squeeze was all it took
My hands on your face
Gentle and loving
I hope you felt special and warm
I hope you felt how much I cared
Your trembling hands
Would spill your food
So I fed you with the same
Hands that prepared your meal
Your hand in mine, I was still afraid
You couldn't give me that little squeeze
So trembling, I held tightly
Til my hands had to set you free
Apr 20, 2017
Apr 20, 2017 at 1:29 AM UTC
Come, dance with me...
.....hold my back
lead my arms...my hand
push my fingers
they'll obey
release your power, and
fuel my senses,
......got no room for false pretenses...
I'll let my creative ink flow
inch by inch, i'll move your hands, to draw,
together, a field of dreams, we shall initiate
while we travel, our efforts will collaborate...
let's dance, fill our sphere with gems of thoughts
**** my pen.....its fire, my fingers will stoke
i'll guide your brush strokes
in painting bright colors on our walks...
lead my hands
as i lead yours...
This giving and taking,
this push and pull stuff,
let's make great art out of it <3
......
Sally
Copyright February 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 11:02 PM UTC
she loves my calluses
she holds my hands without malice
she likes my hands
but i don't understand why she likes working man hands
she holds them as much as she can
she says i work magic
they also do work that can be tragic
the hands of a working man that's just it
cuts and scars
make my hands what they are
Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 10:15 PM UTC
Rough and lined
Quite defined
Cut and scarred
Oh so marred
Dark veins
And sharp pains
Short nails
But when all else fails
I hold your beautifully scarred hand too
And smile at the wonderful gift I've been given
Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 6:04 PM UTC
Brain excogitated,
Heart swelled with apricity,
Hands scribed poetry
Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 9:08 PM UTC
I didn't mean to brush against her hand
So delicately traced by accident
So briefly were our molecules bonded
So quickly was it meant to be over
Except,
She laced her atoms into mine
And decided to walk the same direction
Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 8:56 PM UTC
My pinkies don’t bend right.
They get locked in place
attempting to navigate space
so they turn introspective,
going inward.
My aunt is a palm reader.
She looked at my lines,
at the small age of nine,
and wisely determined
my destiny.
My right hand is clumsy.
To be a good surgeon
I needed to burgeon
despite my weak faith
and faults.
Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 8:49 PM UTC
You lose nothing in
the Loving Hands of Jesus
You gain everything
Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 7:14 PM UTC
I've had plenty of experiences with hands
Hands that wave
Hands that hit
Hands that help
To give hints
Hands that are kind
Hands that are mean
All the different ways we use our hands
Hands to welcome
Hands to ban
Another gift from God given to man
Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 6:56 PM UTC
When mind spilled the words
The two hands will do the work
Tool for poetry :)
Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 6:23 PM UTC
One day I will impress you
Just watch
Check out what I can do with my hands
Give me a flashlight I can make an eagle on the wall
I can only make an eagle though
Oh guess what else I can do
I can intertwine my fingers to make a face
Oh, oh!
I’m pretty literate too
Any word, any word you want,
I can write it down.
If you're not impressed yet,
you're not human
or lower your expectations.
Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 5:26 PM UTC
***harsh a poets hands to write such anger,
how soft to feel such love,
the fingertips flow and move
assist the mind above.
the palms tender and smooth,
the bones bitter and tough
lift the hand up to the tongue,
the taste of ink and sweat.
rest a moment weary hands,
let the feelings set.
tools in such a weary work
needed just as much,
thank you hands for moving so,
create nothing from the dust.***
Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 4:08 PM UTC
As a toddler my mom taught me
to use hands for games,
Patty cake, patty cake,
We had so much fun.
In 1st grade Mrs. Z taught me about hands.
The big hand represents the hours,
The small hand is for minutes,
And that skinny red one counts the seconds.
In high school Sarah Kay taught me
about holding hands, and hand models
She said "I read hands to tell your past."
Hands learn she said to me.
A coworker taught me to speak with hands.
Thumb in, 4 fingers up, thats "B" she said.
We could talk without moving our lips,
It was magic.
No one taught me the importance of hands,
Though.
The way you need to stretch your hands,
Reach out to the world and say,
"Here. Grab on, I won't let you fall"
How to make my hands, helping hands.
The kind with strong cracks and callouses
But they have a soft touch, gentle hands.
Hands that can stand the beating of
Negativity
Hatred
Rejection.
Hands that stay open,
Ready to accept whatever...
Gifts
The world gives them.
I want to learn how to use my hands,
To inspire a nation.
Who will teach me?
Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 2:31 PM UTC
There is a place in my garden
Where I let things freely grow
Never tasting sickle, rake, or ***
A place planted by God's hands
Not mine you see
Always fascinated how his garden
Is always much prettier than mine
© 2017 Jim Davis
Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 2:30 PM UTC
My hands
wrapped in yours
My hands
wrapped around your hips
My hands
holding you hostage to my
love
Your hands
wrapped in mine
avoiding a goodbye
Your hands
holding my heart
Your hands
squeezing at my
metaphorical throat
asphyxiating the bad dreams
My hands
Your hands.
Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 2:05 PM UTC
Sixty words per minute// no errors
Five hundred plus poems// written
Thousand firm handshakes// given
Countless prayers cried out// frantic
And if you ever saw me work// well
You'd be surprised
Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 2:00 PM UTC
I knew from the start
Sweet melodies would follow
His fingers plucked hearts
Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 1:51 PM UTC
I've worked in wood and metal
worked glass, gems, and clay
Crafted artful things and works of art
baubles, antiquities, and treasures to display
Written words of love, hate, and virtue
and stories from technical, to fantasy
Played in flesh that's live, and virtual
every note and verse, of every memory
Without them, I would never have achieved
the inglorious fame, and notoriety
Only my hands, upon my controls
where-ever, that may be
Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 1:52 PM UTC