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I got a good handshake. A lot of executives tell me I have the best handshake in Hollywood.
quote by Marlee Matlin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Taking The Narrow Path
this is the narrow path
of disbelief
one gets elbow to elbow
with uncertainties
in a party of masks
one talks to someone
without a name
with no place to stay
this is the narrow path
it only you that fits in
and all they say when they pass
are excuses
this is the narrow path of silence
questions hang like stars in the skies
you are a grain of sand
below a full moon
you look for light and comfort
there is so much
but you have none
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Back To You
i am here
at par with you
my peer
we shall appear
on same designer clothes
now
i can afford it
i am glad finally
that i have made it
on the
21st century
touch my elbow
we go elbow to elbow now
for you have been my giant
and i was your dwarf
because you have looked at me
with disdain
but now, i am happy to have made
it on your century
my God if you only knew it
got demoted really
from my own time
on the 30th
light years ago
touching myself
trying to be human again.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Teacher, A Pen, and A Handshake
A teacher, a pen, a handshake.
Three deaths in one day
And each a death-toll in my heart.
I cannot even pray
My soul is so overwrought.
How much light can the darkness take?
Does eternity truly hold us apart?
A teacher, a pen, a handshake.
Three bodies in one grave.
Oh, you wretched world, mourn deep!
For one who freely gave
Of truth and love and soulful ink.
I fear my soul and heart shall break!
For death has taken them into it’s keep.
A teacher, a pen, a handshake.
Three stars fallen in space
Which once burned bright as the tears
Burning on my face.
How solemn strike the chords of death
Such a mournful tune they make –
And the Weaver of Worlds on a bier!
poem by Sophia White
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hey, Look Me Over
Hey look me over
Lend me an ear
Fresh out of clover
Mortgage up to here
But don't pass the plate folks
Don't pass the cup
I figure whenever you're down and out
The only way is up
And I'll be up like a rose bud
High on the vine
Don't thumb your nose
But take a tip from mine
I'm a little bit short of the elbow room
But let me get me some
And look out world
Here I come
Yes, hey look me over
Lend me an ear
Fresh out of clover
Mortgage up to here
But don't pass the plate folks
Don't pass the cup
I figure whenever you're down and out
The only way is up
And I'll be up like a rose bud
High on the vine
Don't thumb your nose
But take a tip from mine
I'm a little bit short of the elbow room
But let me get me some
And look out - world
Here - I - come...
song performed by by Louis Armstrong
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Immortalize Lameness
mother gang at elbow worker of vegetable salesgirl
at the same time fiddle faddle
how its stomach is price in this time
and how the husband do not visit to add the
their expense money
at elbow its boost the high rise physical plant
what its dweller is incoming exit of car
pass in front of the them
they expense have never here
they expense of through phoning
goods is ushering
in their priest enquire
whether this Iameness as God destiny
or there is invisible hand
making them lame
or intellectual result the best craft of the brain
to immortalize Iameness.
poem by Prasetya Utama
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Handshakes
The joining of hands compels one to be a bridge
That is built in a day;
These germs are your germs
Inhabiting the monster’s skin.
But lying is an old habit,
To trust is to better understand fellow-men.
I join and handshake whenever needed,
Buzzing my mouth with applause
And compliment.
One bridge is enough for the shoulders to bear,
A monstrous bridge is a catastrophe
For you lack understanding of the bridges.
A simple handshake does dirt to the actions
Whilst their friendship is doomed.
poem by Naveed Akram
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A Sequel To Mamta's Asking About Sky Scrapers
after the progress
when sky scrapers
stand tall reaching
the moon and the
stars and elbow to
elbow with the sun
the birds may have
asked: where shall we
put our nests?
and the trees may
have asked: where
shall we ever grow
again?
and the brooks may
have asked: where
shall we ever flow?
and yes, mamta, the
children as asking:
do we still have
playgrounds to play?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Handshake Drugs
I was chewin' gum for something to do
The blinds were being pulled down on the dew
Inside, out of love, what a laugh
I was looking for you
Saxophones started blowing me down
I was buried in sound
Taxicabs were driving me around
To the handshake drugs I bought downtown
To the handshake drugs I bought downtown
They were translated poorly, I felt like a clown
I looked like someone I used to know
I felt alright
And if I ever was myself
I wasn't that night
Oh it's okay for you to say
What you want from me
I believe that's the only
Way for me to be, exactly
What you want me to be
Oh it's okay for you to say
What you want from me
I believe that's the only
Way for me to be
Exactly what you want me to be
Oh I was chewin' gum for something to do
The blinds were being pulled down on the dew
Inside, out of love, what a laugh
I was looking for you
Saxophones started blowin' me down
I was buried in sound
The taxicabs were driving me around
To the handshake drugs I bought downtown
To the handshake drugs I bought downtown
Oh it's okay for you to say
What you want from me
I believe that's the only
Way for me to be
Exactly what do you want me to be?
Exactly what do you want me to be?
Felt like a clown
They were translating poorly
I looked like someone
I used to know
And if I ever was myself,
I wasn't that night
Exactly what do you want me to be?
Exactly what do you want me to be?
song performed by by Wilco
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Death of the Hindu
Chin cupped
on the ancient bone
of his elbow
he spread five fingers to the world:
and like a cat on zither strings
the hoarse voice of his fathers
issues from his forgotten children:
now he picks one tick
from the back of that suckling cow:
his failing fingers
find not the strength to crush
Not a single eyelash twitters
pass him by
pass him
'Wake not a man asleep
And tell him he has
Nothing to eat.'
(©: T. Wignesan - Paris,1957; from T. Wignesan. Tracks of a Tramp. Kuala Lumpur-Singapore: 1961; first pub. in 'Forum Academicum', University of Heidelberg,1957)
poem by T. Wignesan
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Half Of Me
half of me is darkness
half of me is light
half of me is a shadow
half of me is my body
one hand is above the other
elbow to elbow that is what levels me
i ponder upon these
one body pulled by two horses in opposite directions
i ponder upon a way
to tame this wildness
this anarchy of my senses
these desires not properly canalized
on Eros overflowing
on a confusion of my mind
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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From The Time We Say Goodbye
By the time you say goodbye
By the time you say cheerio
Well take a handshake through
On your journey as you go
Keep a prayr within your heart
That the time will surely fly
To the day when we shall meet again
By the time you say goodbye
Hmmm.....
Yes listeners, we have been coming to you
Live on a crystal ballroom high above the hotel jamestown
In picturesque western new york
As your program draws to a close
It gives me profound pleasure to say cheerio
To the strains of miss natalie merchant and her choir
And so now it only remains for me to say... goodnight
By the time you say goodbye
By the time you say cheerio
Well take a handshake through
On your journey as you go
Keep a prayr within your heart
That the time will surely fly
To the day when we shall meet again
By the time you say goodbye
song performed by by 10000 Maniacs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This Is Our Last Parting Handshake 2011
this our last parting handshake,2011
&
this is our last parting handshake-
there is absolutely no chance of meeting you,
31.12.2011 and 2011
when you fade into the dim tunnels of ' time '
you had spoken to me through the skies
the wind, the sun, the water, the stars
and the earth which bears all my atrocities-
you had been kind to me, harsh at times,
you had wept with me and heartily laughed also-
you had punished me for my wrong-doing;
at times for nothing on my part-
i had my successes and great downfalls;
overall it had been a lasting friendship!
is it your death now
or the rest into the dusty chambers of history?
wear this pearl of my tear-dropp around your heart
as you slowly fall into your deep rest-
i leave you in intolerable pain
as i have no chance of meeting you ever in life!
-s.chandra kalaadhar
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Confession, alas, is the new handshake.
quote by Richard Rosen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Flood of Redness
He laid a hand on the elbow as for now,
Again and again they felt like low,
Yet never did the angering fellowship concoct,
A mighty redness like blood, like flood.
He laid it on the heavenly arm of stem of deception,
Like a stranger in fortitude of sentence-description.
His speech meant nothing, just speech and rendition.
I can not for the life of lead be endowed with privilege -
The exact opposite of what was.
He reminds me of herself, the elbow she had,
And the red blood flowing again as if heat,
Or flowing like lead or iron or some form of deceit.
poem by Naveed Akram
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A golden handshake convinces even the most skeptical judge.
If you give a handshake to the leopard, next time he will come for an embrace.
There is not a soul who does not have to beg alms of another, either a smile, a handshake, or a fond eye.
quote by Lord Acton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Working Class Man
The‘working class'man comes home after a hard working day,
Another shift over, a step closer to a much needed wage or pittance of pay.
Trying his best to maintain his and family's basic needs,
Working through his life's prime.
Also trying to plan future seeds,
Until'his retirement time.
Forty years or more of graft and sweat,
At the end of it, What does he get?
Pat's on the back, handshake or maybe a golden watch that is already set!
To remind himself of the good and bad times he may have had,
A reminder if they were funny or sad.
A ticking memory of friends he made or met,
A‘time watch'to watch the pass of time that he's got left.
poem by Guy Lipmore
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The postman wants an autograph. The cab driver wants a picture. The waitress wants a handshake. Everyone wants a piece of you.
quote by John Lennon
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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