Other Lives And Dimensions And Finally A Love Poem
My left hand will live longer than my right. The rivers
of my palms tell me so.
Never argue with rivers. Never expect your lives to finish
at the same time. I think
praying, I think clapping is how hands mourn. I think
staying up and waiting
for paintings to sigh is science. In another dimension this
is exactly what's happening,
it's what they write grants about: the chromodynamics
of mournful Whistlers,
the audible sorrow and beta decay of Old Battersea Bridge.
I like the idea of different
theres and elsewheres, an Idaho known for bluegrass,
a Bronx where people talk
like violets smell. Perhaps I am somewhere patient, somehow
kind, perhaps in the nook
of a cousin universe I've never defiled or betrayed
anyone. Here I have
two hands and they are vanishing, the hollow of your back
to rest my cheek against,
your voice and little else but my assiduous fear to cherish.
My hands are webbed
like the wind-torn work of a spider, like they squeezed
something in the womb
but couldn't hang on. One of those other worlds
or a life I felt
passing through mine, or the ocean inside my mother's belly
she had to scream out.
Here, when I say I never want to be without you,
somewhere else I am saying
I never want to be without you again. And when I touch you
in each of the places we meet,
in all of the lives we are, it's with hands that are dying
and resurrected.
When I don't touch you it's a mistake in any life,
in each place and forever.
Related quotes
Twist 5
he lives in two worlds
he has one body, his hands
break when he changes places
his heart is tough
his mind always finds
two explanations
two worlds never reconcile
it is this
neither nor situation
whatever his eyes see
are beautiful
his hands cannot touch any one
when he touches it
there is death
somehow for all those years
there must be a compromise between
water and oil
and so he lives in two worlds
every morning he rises to live
at night
he sleeps to die
and it has been happening
since then
in the house everyone like to love
him
in one condition that there must only be
one world
and so every hour he lives in fear
every minute
but like a dog he learns the tricks
he is young
two worlds live within him
one body one imagination
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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My Hands
my hands have ten rivers
there are furrows of sorrows in the destiny of my palms
no mountain peaks to view the world
holistically,
my hands have ten crystal clear ponds
my hands mirror my face
my hands surrender
my hands open
they are all yours too and you are so cruel
you are telling me like you detest me in the residence of your full moon
you do not need rivers, you had enough of my surrender, you are ashamed
of open hands, you touch me and then you make a plea
'please close your hands and with your ten rivers, please sail away from me! '
i know what a full moon is. I too had enough of its light and silence.
i have the nerves of the stars, and i know what sailing away means.
let me thank you for your dark skies, your clouds are too heavy for me.
i am raining tears, too salty for my ten rivers.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Praying Hands
I had a dream with my lord CHRIST
He touched my head, not once but twice.
I felt my body jump up in bed
I saw the nail holes in his hands that bled.
I felt the power of his healing hands
He showed it to me so I could understand.
With faith in our hearts he will heal
And his hands you will feel.
I awoke that morning with the spirit inside
Those praying hands I had to find.
I found a figurine of his hands
And put it upon my night stand.
In my prayers that I say day and night
I squeeze those hands with all my might.
Now when I feel life s pressures are getting me down
I touch those hands that I had found.
And when I feel an ailment or two
Then I know what I must do.
I touch those hands and say a prayer
This is the bond that we share.
There is no other feeling like the love of GOD
When you have him in your heart.
poem by Louis Rams
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Time And Fear
you like time that way
clockwise always like the hands of the clock
stopping is prohibited
like you are broken
a disease
you are time
you move with accuracy always at a certain point
no past just the future
not staying longer with the moment
that is what people are supposed to be
always moving on
no crying over spilt milk
nothing overwhelming with the past
sometimes i just sit in the corner and watch
merely curious of what we are and what am i for real
i let time go and i stay and i relax myself a bit
unmoved, unmoving, i become an object of your disdain
theirs too
a clock without hands
what can i be? a man without feet
with hands but never using any finger
i look at the world like i do not belong here
i sit obeying no one
i deny the sun and i am not talking with the moon
and i see a time bending before me
begging for me
praying that i may go with it or i be left out dying slowly
i am staying and i am waiting
they ask me why i am doing all these
for what reason? under what justification?
and all that i can say is that i am no longer afraid
i have enough of what i really need
to know to have to hold to cherish
and finally to give everything away
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Our Hands
My hands once warm,
And clothed in yours,
my hands once full,
and held in yours.
Empty hands,
Cold hands,
my hands have lost their,
Partner as you once were for me,
Your hands at once rough,
and soft,
Always gentle when in mine,
our hands would meet to fill the cold,
My hands now empty cover tears,
my hands once warm now with
a freezing touch,
your hands are gone,
the warmth they held has left,
these hands of mine.
poem by Rebecca Adams
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The Passing Of A Heart
O touch me with your hands--
For pity's sake!
My brow throbs ever on with such an ache
As only your cool touch may take away;
And so, I pray
You, touch me with your hands!
Touch--touch me with your hands.--
Smooth back the hair
You once caressed, and kissed, and called so fair
That I did dream its gold would wear alway,
And lo, to-day--
O touch me with your hands!
Just touch me with your hands,
And let them press
My weary eyelids with the old caress,
And lull me till I sleep. Then go your way,
That Death may say:
He touched her with his hands.
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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The Fury Of Abandonment
Someone lives in a cave
eating his toes,
I know that much.
Someone little lives under a bush
pressing an empty Coca-Cola can against
his starving bloated stomac,
I know that much.
A monkey had his hands cut off
for a medical experiment
and his claws wept.
I know tht much.
I know that it is all
a matter of hands.
Out of the mournful sweetness of touching
comes love
like breakfast.
Out of the many houses come the hands
before the abandonment of the city,
out of hte bars and shops,
a thin file of ants.
I've been abandoned out here
under the dry stars
with no shoes, no belt
and I've called Rescue Inc. -
that old-fashioned hot line -
no voice.
Left to my own lips, touch them,
my own nostrils, shoulders, breasts,
navel, stomach, mound,kneebone, ankle,
touch them.
It makes me laugh
to see a woman in this condition.
It makes me laugh for America and New York city
when your hands are cut off
and no one answers the phone.
Anonymous submission.
poem by Anne Sexton
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Harvest Of Friendship
For Carol Gall & Patti Masterman
Friendships can come
from many places near and far,
sometimes even half a world away
with faces we cannot see,
but their touch we can always feel.
Invisible hands reach out
across the miles to gently touch another’s.
Unbreakable links are forged,
bonds never to be unbroken.
Silent voices of strangers are suddenly heard,
welcomed in from the silence
to a voice never heard.
Strength is gathered in
to defeat the demons
of a sometimes lonely life
as we harvest friendships into our lives.
Friendships and distance no longer matters.
Hands now link to chain a message
that no matter who we are
a candle of hope is on the horizon
to light up many lives.
8 December 2009
poem by David Harris
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Man In The Ocean
This is a song for the man who went down
This is a song for the man in the ocean
This is a heartbeat
This is a part of me
Everyone's reading in, in the papers
Feeling the fear and forgetting it later
This is a heartbeat
This is a part of me
This is the first step learning to fall
These are the wings, this is the call
This is the first kiss, bringing it home
This is the breath and the sex and the bones
And my hands, are full of life
And the rhythm in you, is the rhythm in me
And my hands, are full of life
Oooh, you make me feel
And this is the curse to the wave, that threw you
This is the shame of the years I slept
This is the glory, these are the tears
This is the longing in your belly
This is the siren in your veins
This is the light in the eyes of angels
This is the dark in the heart of danger
And my hands, are full of life
And the rhythm in you, is the rhythm in me
And my hands, are full of life
Oooh, you make me feel
We live forever our minds
A bit still we know there's never time
Enough to share the ones we loved
Enough to have to care to live above
I feel the chain that brings to time
I feel the way you left behind
I feel, this is a part of me
And my hands, are full of life
And the rhythm in you, is the rhythm in me
And my hands, are full of life
Oooh, you make me feel
And I know how loud a heart can beat
And the rhythm in you, is the rhythm in me
And I know, I know
Cause I've heard them scream
This is a heartbeat, this is a part of me
This is a heartbeat, this is a part of me
This is a heartbeat, this is a part of me
This is a heartbeat, this is a part of me
song performed by by Heather Nova
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My heart is my hands
My hands
Is
Only my hands...
Not for
your hands....
So...
I want too work
My hands...
I want too serve
My hands...
I want to do about
Somthing of my
Hands...
My hands is
Free for only
Sleeping time only...
my hands is
working all the times
My hands not only
Hands...
It is human workers...
Allways for my friends...
My hands...is my heart...
My heart is my hands.....
Ok...How is your hands...?
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Listen With Your Eyes
I dont need no special things to get me high
All I needs a touch of ron to get me by
I see people travelling, never make a move
I dont follow my leader, needles in the groove
I dont like sitar, it dont touch guitar
People selling me heaven, praying to the sky
I dont read their message
Listen with your eyes
Listen with your eyes
Listen with your eyes (I love it)
Youve had a hustling day
Your lifes roundabout anyway
I got my feet on the ground
That doesnt mean I dont get around
I get up on tops and down on mr. blue
I love to see a daybreak
Its not a chemical wide awake
I like a rub in the tub
I never want to pull out the plug
I get up on tops and down on mr. blue
Mr. blue!
People search the dailies, live by horoscope
Looking for direction, dont they get the joke
I wont fear the reaper, when the curtain falls
Im not vegetating, waiting for the call
I dont like sitar, it dont touch guitar
Wake up to the future, you should make your plans
Dreams are made in heaven, life is in your hands
Life is in your hands
Life is in your hands
Life is in your hands
song performed by by 10 Cc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Kill The Evil
It’s a beautiful land
It’s a home for many
Many lived with peace
Lived with unity and love
With smiles on each face
Children play with its mud
Farms dance with its soil
Rivers flow on its bed
Flowers glow all around
Nature loves that land
Life is very simple there
Children go to school
Men and Women work
Old ones enjoy life
People lived happily
People pray in church
People pray in mosque
People pray as they wish
It has different beliefs
But all are united
Its unity is questioned
Questioned by an evil
Its name is ‘WAR’
It bombed that land
And killed everything
Destroyed homes of many
Many lived in fear
Many cried in pain
In pain of lost ones
Taken away by evil
Some can’t kick football
Some can’t write proper
Some tears can’t run down
Many got wounded
Wounded by the evil
Schools got bombed
Books got burned
Playground in silent
Kids didn’t grow up
Evil axed even tulips
Farms caught fire
Fruits weren’t picked
Rivers flowed red
Water wasn’t tasted
Evil ruined the nature
Church bells stopped ringing
Mosque no longer stands
Culture no longer rejoiced
Beautiful land is ragged
In the hands of evil
Evil, who’s name is WAR
Its only aim is blood
Blood of many innocent lives
Life is the gift of god
God’s message is peace and love
So let’s spread his message
And kill this evil forever
And free this world forever
Forever from its bloody hands
Into the hands of peace forever
poem by Kranthi Pothineni
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Intro
Now the time has come
The music's between us
Though the night seems young
Is at an end
Only change will bring
You out of the darkness
In this moment everything is born again
Reach up for the sunrise
Put your hands into the big sky
You can touch the sunrise
Feel the new day enter your life
Reach up for the sunrise
Put your hands into the big sky
You can touch the sunrise
Feel the new day enter your life
Now the fireball burns
We go round together
As the planet turns into the light
Something more than dreams to
Watch out for each other
Coz we know what it means to be alive
Reach up for the sunrise
Put your hands into the big sky
You can touch the sunrise
Feel the new day enter your life
Reach up for the sunrise
Put your hands into the big sky
You can touch the sunrise
Feel the new day enter your life
Feel the new day enter your life
Feel the new day
Reach up for the sunrise
Put your hands into the big sky
You can touch the sunrise
Feel the new day enter your life
Reach up for the sunrise
Put your hands into the big sky
You can touch the sunrise
Feel the new day enter your life
Reach up for the sunrise
Put your hands into the big sky
You can touch the sunrise
Feel the new day enter your life
song performed by by Duran Duran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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These Hands
Given by God -are these hands!
One can do many things -with these hands
With love one can help a strangers' hands-
Allay and comfort the elders' gnarled hands
Clean sweep and mop with these hands
Decorate and embellish with these hands
Cook and serve food to all with these hands
Clasp a loved one with these hands
Applaud one with pleasure with these hands
Dig the soil and form a garden with these hands
Hold a book to read with these hands
Write and post a card with these hands
Type a poem to cheer someone with these hands
Draw a picture and sew clothes with these hands
Paint a beautiful scene to amuse with these hands
Play a game of volley ball or cricket with these hands
Swim the waters and row a boat with these hands
Pick the harvests and fruits with these hands
Feed the animals and birds with these hands
Seek the warmth of dear ones with these hands
Feel the soft petals of a flower with these hands
Fold the palms to pray with these hands
Given by God - are these hands!
poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
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I Have The Touch
The time I like is the rush hour, cos I like the rush
The pushing of the people - I like it all so much
Such a mass of motion - do not know where it goes
I move with the movement and ... I have the touch
Im waiting for ignition, Im looking for a spark
Any chance collision and I light up in the dark
There you stand before me, all that fur and all that hair
Oh, do I dare ... I have the touch
Wanting contact
Im wanting contact
Im wanting contact with you
Shake those hands, shake those hands
Give me the thing I understand
Shake those hands, shake those hands
Shake those hands, shake those hands
Any social occasion, its hello, how do you do
All those introductions, I never miss my cue
So before a question, so before a doubt
My hand moves out and ... I have the touch
Wanting contact
Im wanting contact
Im wanting contact with you
Shake those hands, shake those hands
Give me the thing I understand
Shake those hands, shake those hands
Pull my chin, stroke my hair, scratch my nose, hug my knees
Try drink, food, cigarette, tension will not ease
I tap my fingers, fold my arms, breathe in deep, cross my legs
Shrug my shoulders, stretch my back - but nothing seems
To please
I need contact
I need contact
Nothing seems to please
I need contact
song performed by by Peter Gabriel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Eldad
Fauna and Flora,
Build up your dreams and never give up;
And like the unleavened wafers spread with oil,
But, do no wander like shepherds on the top of the hills.
Yahweh allows cetain things to occur in our lives,
And of the protection that he has for us;
But all males must be circumcised in order to keep the law,
And like the joy of your music in the land of the living.
I was full when i left home but, i came back empty!
And while the girls were dancing,
Each man caught one of them and carried her off to be his wife;
But my joy is to meet you once again in the land of your muse.
To be raised up as a servant and to serve many people,
But the negative spirit came up and fought with me! !
So write down your poetry so that i may read them;
For out of the eater came out something sweet.
Why do you ask of my name when, you've already seen it?
However, i am very wonderful and i am a lover;
But, my name so sweet to your ears is Eldad,
And you will bewail your virginity on this hills when the time comes.
This voice is like the voice of my lover!
But the touch of your hands are like the hands of one who is at peace;
And like your life in the Valley of Lebanon,
However, come to me and i will teach you more about life.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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I Shall Have These Hands That Shall Write About Hands....
must have i forgotten
from where all these come?
ah, i have read about your hands
and now i shall have to mind about mine
once i had these hands
whose name is
work and struggle and
sacrifice
they lifted rocks
outlined by Sisyphus
and roll them from
atop the hill
and put them again there
in senseless
labor
when i got reason
my hands began to think
as though they have brains
under their nails
these hands begin the
questions
grapple for answers
and got
no satisfaction
they dabble in poetry
trembling and tense and
looking for
a compromise for some
fetish
must have i forgotten from where
these hands come?
someone says these hands are from
the hands of God
whose hands hand what we do not have
in hand yet
these hands did what was wrong then
and covered the face of the
penitent and the remorseful
these hands that slap a face that
triggered a gunfire
that lay upon the hardened breasts
and held breaths
these hands that write now for you
face upside down not asking for anything in return
these hands that speak for you
as you turn your head for someone else.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Have The Touch
The time I like is the rush hour, cos I like the rush
The pushing of the people, I like it all so much
Such a mass of motion, do not know where it goes
I move with the movement and ... I have the touch
Im waiting for ignition, Im looking for a spark
Any chance collision and I light up in the dark
There you stand before me, all that fur and all that hair
Oh, do I dare ... I have the touch
Only, only
Wanting contact
Only, only
Im wanting contact
Only, only
Im wanting contact with you
Shake those hands, shake those hands
Give me the thing I understand
Shake those hands, shake those hands
Shake hands, shake hands.
Any social occasion, hello, how do you do
All those introductions, I never miss my cue
So before a question, so before a doubt
My hand moves out and ... I have the touch
Only, only
Wanting contact
Only, only
Im wanting contact
Only, only
Im wanting contact with you
Shake those hands, shake those hands
Give me the thing I understand
Shake those hands, shake those hands
Shake those hands
Pull my chin, stroke my hair, scratch my nose, hug my knees
Try drink, food, cigarette, the tension will not ease
I tap my fingers, fold my arms, breathe in deep, cross my legs
Shrug my shoulders, stretch my back, but nothing seems to please
I need contact
I need contact
Nothing seems to please
I need contact
Tac-tacatac, tac-tacatac
I need contact
Nothing seems to please
I need contact
Tac-tacatac, tac-tacatac
I need contact
Ah, tac-tacatac
I need contact
Nothing seems to please
I need contact
I need contact.
song performed by by Heather Nova
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The most beatiful hands
There are no more beautiful hands
than the hands that caressed you
and rocked you when you were little.
There are no more beautiful hands
than the hands that guided you
when you took your first steps in life.
There are no more beautiful hands
than the hands that bathed you,
clothed you and fed you,
during childhood.
There are no more beautiful hands
than the hands that hugged you
and wiped away all your tears
throughout your life.
There are no more beautiful hands
than your mother's hands...
poem by Viorel Vintila
Submitted by Viorel Vintila
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Through Your Hands
You were dreamin
On a park bench
bout a broad highway somewhere
When the music from the carillon
Seemed to hurl your heart out there
Past the scientific darkness
Past the fireflies that float
To an angel bending down
To wrap you in his warmest coat
And you ask
What am I not doing
He says
Your voice cannot command
In time you will move mountains
And it will come through your hands
Still you argue for an option
Still you angle for your case
Like you wouldnt know a burning bush
If it blew up in your face
Yeah, we scheme about the future
And we dream about the past
When just a simple reaching out
Might build a bridge that lasts
And you ask
What am I not doing
He says
Your voice cannot command
In time you will move mountains
And it will come through your hands
Through your hands
So whatever your hands find to do
You must do with all your heart
There are thoughts enough
To blow mens minds
And tear great worlds apart
Theres a healing touch to find you
On that broad highway somewhere
To lift you high
As music flyin
Through the angels hair
Dont ask what you are not doing
Because your voice cannot command
In time we will move mountains
And it will come through your hands
song performed by by Don Henley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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