Softmoon Oct 2015
From all the things
I have held throughout my entire life,
your hands are my favorite.
For they have known
the map to places
inside of me,
where no one else knows
a single whisper about.
Nathan Jun 2016
I am a man
Who screams by night
And smiles by day.
I look at myself, I don't see me anymore
Just a shell from before, empty and haggard.
My eyes have lost their shine.
The path ahead forgotten
Trudging through mud, looking to the sky.
Now I know for certain, soon I will die.
Not from coincidence or neglect;
From these hands of mine.
Izzy Sep 2015
She was the poet, her hands stained with ink
He was the soldier, his hands stained with blood

The gentle hands of a dreamer intertwined with the rough hands of a fighter.
Fuji Bear Apr 2014
Hands have a power,
unlike any other.
They can lend a hand,
Or hold people down.
Spend years to build cities,
Or press the button,
that destroys them.
They can touch and feel,
yet they can also strangle.
Our eyes give us two dimensions,
Hands give us the third.
But the real problem is,
That hands never hold enough hands.
Only because,
we are too busy,
holding them in fists.
I know how much you love hands.
**Took me a while to get this one how I wanted it.**
saranade Jul 2014
A favorite color, too bright for my eyes,  a
  favorite food.

A fruit left longing for a rhythm
   a rhyme.

Sit down and dirty with rinds under nails

Citrus acid and sweet juicyness drips down
   my hands.
Chloe Elizabeth Dec 2014
It just makes me sad, oh so incredibly sad, to see him with someone else who was able to hold on to him longer than my poor hands could bear.

By Chloe Elizabeth
y i k e s May 2014

we will

join hand in hand

when the time is

Marta Rampini Oct 2014
and when you look at me
i swear i can’t breathe
because your eyes are like hands
which choke me while i dream
Tom Leveille Apr 2014
let it not be confused
let no one else's name
ring throughout these sentences
let this be a hatchet
let me put this to rest
this is not a test
i don't want to think
about shipwrecks anymore
i am tired of folding apologies
into origami birds
and placing them
at the headstones to your tantrums
this is not is not geology class
these are promises
written on razorblades
      & if you are getting choked up
        then maybe you should be

maybe we should be buried
with our telescopes face down
my mouth is full of sorry
all for being honest
we are falling out of orbit
we are burning bystanders
so cast away your callous condolences
because no one is clapping
in this waist deep water
this is not a baptism
so do not tell strangers
that this was a chance to drown
any differently
i am not a catalogue
of constellations you cannot name
this is not mythology
so stop believing your horoscope
i am not a wishing well
i am just a wall for you
to paint post nuclear fallout & antonyms for catharsis on
we destroy the things
that are not ours-
the wanton ways
we embody wrecking balls
and then cry over the rubble
this is not a heap or a mosaic
this is leaping
off a thousand story building
with no one to catch you
at the bottom & maybe
that's why some quiet moments
are so fragile, maybe that's why butterflies have mimicry
your words are black powder
and poetry is your musketry
i guess that makes me your blindfold
Eleanor Rigby Oct 2014
Wooden hands
Bruising random shapes
On my bare thighs.
Wooden hands
Leaving me covered
In rainbow lies.

And when wooden hands
Cross my mind,
They come in the form
Of sunshine.

WistfulHope Aug 2014
that caress my face
on my hips
moving down my back
gripping hard my breasts
on my thighs, on my ass
i don't want there
that pin mine back
over my mouth
that don't let me say  no.
Poetic T Mar 2014
You have been with me from the start soft
Hard, never bothered which one you were
When I was young at heart.

I used to pull you my second brain, little soft
Then long and hard,as I grew, you grew with  
Me a friend that never left. Only in the cold I
Wondered where you are.

The years did pass and hair you grew, where
Once I had pulled, now you just went hard.
Embarrassed I was as always hard around
The girls, some laughed while others played
With it spitting at them when excitedly hard.

Age moved on my friend for life still with me
Still getting hard but when I wanted you no
More embarrassment on my face at random hard.

My second brain, getting wasted each day, never
Unclean as cheesy smell I do not want as girls would
Run a far.

We played in the wetness we have come so far letting
The children out in the damp park. My wife screamed
Harder deeper my god your big I love your hardness
Up me and the children were excited out of the umbrella
They went a bit to far.

You have been with me through the soft and the
Hard, got me in trouble, now three children later
I must end your spitting but you can still go hard.

Penis your my friend to the end when we had no
One a palm and a video was are night in, then softly
You went as to sleep in my palm, from the beginning
Through the soft and the hard.
Thought I'd have some fun as last few have been darkish poems.
Dear God Jan 2015
The hands can say a thousand words,
if only they were able to understand them.
I Love your Hands
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