Appendages
How many fingers do I have?
Enough to work to the bone.
How many hands do I have?
The two that I do own.
How many toes do I have?
Enough to fill my shoes.
How many feet do I have?
The two that I do use
to get me where I want to go,
walking a leisurely pace.
It seems to be a lost art anymore.
Most are in a race.
But since I am retired
I don't ever rush around.
My fingers, my toes, my hands, my feet
make me slow right down.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Related quotes
Shallow Days...
well, there are
shallow days, nothing deep
something for my
feet,
above me the sun
one and only one sun
just the sun and my head
and the shallow waters
on my toes
and the noon time walk
when everyone is as usual
having lunch, and
my toes get wet and i
am making meanings
on the shallow waters
the body in the middle of
this air, the hands are like
eagles flying. the fingers are
turning into feathers
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Even God Is A Racist
God is a racist because
In the beginning
He created two human beings
Named Adam and Eve, which looked different
And sounded different under the tent
Each owned ten toes
Ten fingers, two hands
One face, one head, one nose
Two feet to wear sandals in the sand
Eventually, Adam and Eve had fun
They produced children
Which followed the tradition
From generation to generation
They emulated their parents
Who had fun too under many tents
Which became too congested
Too crowded, too populated
Ultimately, they scattered to other areas
Things became really serious
They followed the stars and the sun
They followed the rain and the moon
Overtime, their skin tone changed
They looked strange and deranged
They spoke different languages
Some became wise and others outrageous
And some lost their memories
Their common sense and their decencies
God is a true racist
Because he created one human race
At a very slow pace
Where it is possible
Not impossible
For men and women to coexist
In peace.
poem by Hebert Logerie
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Fingers To The Bone
Everything went wrong
Im sorry boys, Ive got to let you go
Weve had some hard times
And the long rain, it didnt show
Hired hands, Ive seen them come and go
But you dont come much better
Todays blue monday
I just got a bad news letter
This day has come
The darkest cloud on our horizon
My hands are tied down
To that promise note I signed upon
Always been this way
Its the poor man who gets hurt
All you ever work for
Is to leave your footprints in the dirt
You work your fingers to the bone
The deed is done
The fruit will fall to someone elses hand
Thats how the land lies
Now we all know where we stand
Youll have to walk away
Dont let them see you running
Todays blue monday
I should have seen it coming
You work your fingers to the bone
If sweat and tears were all it took
To make this valley green
Wed be alright but now its gone
Theyve taken everything
They say its just an act of god
And thats the way ill wind blows
Youve got thirty days to pack your bags
Say goodbye, hit the road
You work your fingers to the bone
song performed by by Deep Purple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Goodnight Baby Love
Kiss those little
hands and feet.
Curl`ed toes
and fingers neat.
Little face
with rosebud lips.
Kiss babe all
to fingertips.
Kiss babes feet
sweet up to thumb.
Kiss as much
as you have done.
Kiss as much
as you are able.
Then lay love gently
in the cradle.
Sally Plumb
poem by Sally Plumb Plumb
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I Dreamed.... (Hands)
i dreamed last night...
and all i could see were hands.
sometimes hard and calloused,
sometimes soft and feminine.
skilled hands, laborer's hands,
loving hands, nurturing hands....
fingers digging in the dirt,
fingers holding a pen.
fingers playing a piano,
fingers unbuttoning blouses.
hands extended, hands gripping the rope,
hands holding the shovel,
hands covered with resin.
hands folded in prayer,
hands balled into fists.
hands stuffed in empty pockets.
hands that define both history,
and destiny!
hands scarred and bruised,
hands covered with age spots.
hands that speak many languages.
hands that know mistakes, and failures.
hands that built fires,
hands that put fires out!
hands that wiped away tears,
that picked up trash,
and revealed souls....
whose hands?
my hands, your hands?
god's hands?
does it really matter?
hands engaged and involved,
in the very act of living!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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A Day in the life of a Child
Cheeks dimpling
Two eyes gleam
Lips parting.
Baby's smiling.
Nose crinkling
Red mouth curls
Eyes are twinkling.
Baby's clowning.
Toes gripping
Two knees bend.
Feet are moving,
Baby's walking.
Mind wandering,
Gaze intense,
Brow is puckering,
Baby's 'pottying'
Lips smacking,
Two jaws race,
Cheeks are bulging,
Baby's eating.
Head bobbing,
Fingers twirl,
Knees are knocking,
Baby's dancing.
Eyes closing,
Two hands still.
Senses dozing,
Ssssh - Baby's sleeping.
A Father In Heaven
Oh fools and slow of hart,
Don't you know that there is a Father in heaven? !
But the love of many had drawn cold and,
My ink will flow to teach many.
I am as strong as an iron on this earth of sin and,
I don't need signs to believe in the truth;
For, Yahweh is my light and my salvation.
Feet and toes as a potter's clay,
Hands and fingers as a poet's ink,
Remember the Saviour's words like,
He who has the truth to hare with.
Of the peoples, multitudes, nation and tongues;
A Father is in heven for us to loook upon;
But our lives do fade away like the fragments of pottery.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Sometimes I wish I were not a part of you
My feet are pinched
With needles.
Your hands are not there.
I try to relieve myself from pain.
It is not happening.
There is no miracle.
There is no cure.
The world is a big space.
I can leave anytime and
Take the shape
Of air.
I can be gone.
How come that I become
A part of you
And her?
I do not remember myself coming
Here and sitting on this chair.
Fate.
Cruel fate.
I want to leave but I cannot go
I do not want to stay but I am staying.
How I wish I were not a part
Of this mess:
This cruelty inflicted
From your hand
To my hand.
How I wish I were
Someone else
Here I am.
I am your hair to your head.
Your fingers to your hand.
Your toes to your feet.
I guess. We must learn to live
With each other.
Dislikes disregarded
We begin
Our silent wars.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I'd Rather Have Habits Than Clothes
I'd Rather Have Habits Than Clothes,
For that's where my intellect shows.
And as for my hair,
Do you think I should care
To comb it at night with my toes?
I'd rather have ears than a nose,
I'd rather have fingers than toes,
But as for my hair:
I'm glad it's all there;
I'll be awfully sad when it goes.
I wish that my Room had a Floor;
I don't so much care for a Door,
But this walking around
Without touching the ground
Is getting to be quite a bore!
poem by Gelett Burgess
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447
Sometimes I wish I were not a part of you
========================================== ================
My feet are pinched
With needles.
Your hands are not there.
I try to relieve myself from pain.
It is not happening.
There is no miracle.
There is no cure.
The world is a big space.
I can leave anytime and
Take the shape
Of air.
I can be gone.
How come that I become
A part of you
And her?
I do not remember myself coming
Here and sitting on this chair.
Fate.
Cruel fate.
I want to leave but I cannot go
I do not want to stay but I am staying.
How I wish I were not a part
Of this mess:
This cruelty inflicted
From your hand
To my hand.
How I wish I were
Someone else
Here I am.
I am your hair to your head.
Your fingers to your hand.
Your toes to your feet.
I guess. We must learn to live
With each other.
Dislikes disregarded
We begin
Our silent wars.
==================================== ======================
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Thought I Am Complete
i thought i am complete
seeing my fingers
all intact in my hands
seeing my toes
in proper places of
my feet and my eyes
between the bridge
of my nose
and my hair lushing
on my head and my
ears too sensitive
for voices and sounds
and then something
runs in my spine
like a worm
at first then
more like a snake
and i suddenly
shudder
and then it was
that time that i
realize that i am
incomplete
and the thought comes
like a sudden flash of
light
i need you
i may not have learned to love you yet
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Death Out Of Fame
I made a death out of fame,
Food became the emblem;
Once the priest forbade the code,
I helped the message into the throat.
We can wear a real heaven on this day,
A clear work has been addressed to us,
The real haunting from a ghost arrived.
Inside, the reality of the stamping of feet
Pressures the toes and feet.
The house so outlandish is to feed
And more toes shall be trod upon by the weak.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Literary Tongue
at first i like the hands
those huge hands to cover the whole of my cold body
and then i begin to like the fingers
those that crawl and make my body warm
those that fill the orifice of my emptiness
those that caress my hair
and travel from my nose to my mouth
to my neck to the last tip of my toes
and then i like the mouth too
with its tongue that speak about gentleness
and make me a little bit heated
and brave
and then i am finally stuck with the tongue
the surrogate part of of them all
it speaks
it licks
it travels from the tip of my hair to the tip of my toe
and then it stops
hides inside the walls of my teeth and gums
and stay in the house of my mouth
it also knows
when to stop and just be alone and silent
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Slow Down
So far from where I started out
So far from where I wanna be
Listening for answers in the wind
But cant find a rock to plant my feet
Looking for love in all the wrong places
Down on my knees and now Im praying for patience
I know theres gotta be a better way
In the back of my mind I hear my momma say
Slow down, baby youre going too fast
You got you hands in the air
With you feet on the gas
Youre bout to wreck your future
Running from your past
You need to slow down before
You go down baby
Thinking the faster that I go
The faster (that) I will reach my goal
The race is not given to the swift
But to the one who endureth
I thought that all my obstacles were behind me
Walking around like Im made out of diamond
I tripped and fell and it remindedme
Move over and let my angels guideme
Slow down, baby youre going too fast
You got you hands in the air
With you feet on the gas
Youre bout to wreck your future
Running from your past
You need to slow down before
You go down baby
Sometimes you gotta be still
Before you can get ahead
Be still
Ask the universe for help
Be real
You cant do it all by yourself
Ah, no no
Sometimes, sometimes you gotta be still
It take some time to reach you and they
Be still
Take some time to clear your space
Be real
Chaos isnt good for your health
Ah, no no, ahhh
Cuz Im breaking things and losing things
I lost my cell phone again the other day
Now, I dont wanna live this way, no
In the back of my mind I hear my mama say
Slow down, baby youre going too fast
You got you hands in the air
With you feet on the gas
Youre bout to wreck your future
Running from your past
You need to slow down before
You go down baby
(slow down baby)
Slow down (baby)
Youre going too fast
Slow down (baby)
Feet on the gas
Slow down (baby)
Run from your past
Slow down baby (4x)
song performed by by India Arie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A right pair!
The tired shoes yawned,
They were unable to detach themselves from the feet
The tired feet yawned
Feeling trapped by the shoes and unable to escape
The first signs of agraphobia pressed in
Both were sick of the sight of each other
What a pair!
The hands tapped the table top idly
Refusing to release them,
Too busy composing a first and second draft
Of sonnet in its third sequence
The hands showed 'creative indifference'
The feet and the shoes
Now hot and bothered
Grew smelly and grumpy
Stamping the ground they united forces
Shifting both legs into action
Stamping the ground in fury
Shifting the hands from the writing pad
Until finally the hands released them from each other
'What a pair'! , the hands cried
The feet and the shoes
Sent loving looks to each other
After a particularly tiresome day
They hoped soon to be re united
What a pair!
poem by Yvette Smith
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Aint Got No/i Got Life
(1968) gerome ragni, james rado, gal mcdermot
Aint got no home, aint got no shoes
Aint got no money, aint got no class
Aint got no friends, aint got no schoolin
Aint got no wear, aint got no job
Aint got no man
Aint got no father, aint got no mother
Aint got no children, aint got no
Aint got no earth, aint got no water
Aint got no ticket, aint got no token
Aint got no love
I got my hair, I got my head
I got my brains, I got my ears
I got my eyes, I got my nose
I got my mouth, I got my smile
I got my tongue, I got my chin
I got my neck, I got my tits
I got my heart, I got my soul
I got my back, I got my sex
I got my arms, I got my hands
I got my fingers, got my legs
I got my feet, I got my toes
I got my liver, got my blood
Got life , I got my life
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sorry's Face
i look closely at
what Sorry could be
its face:
eyeballs towards
the sky
chin stooping to
the earth
ears thinning
lips
sealed
every tooth
hidden
arms on the side
as hands
conceal the fingers
in the warm
pockets of the
pants
the feet kneeling
begging toes
and then the heart
stops beating like the drums
of the wild hunters
in Africa
then their is
this quiet
sunset in a transition
darkness is sprinkled with
bright stars
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Funny Feet
Feet are funny things I reckon
like why have we got toes?
we hide them away in our shoes
not on show like our ears or nose.
Some Feet are long and thin
others short stumpy and fat
with nails at the bottom
instead of claws like a Cat.
But if we didn't have Feet
we couldn't walk at all
so you couldn't ride a Bike
or run and kick a Football.
But they just look a bit odd
not really pretty or neat
then again they do a good job
so where would we be without Feet!
poem by Kevin Halls
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Back In My Arms Again
They always said that hindsights twenty-twenty
And when it comes to mistakes in love girl Ive got plenty
But the one that sticks out the most in my mind
Is the night I left you standing on the front porch drying
Living for the day I could make it all up to you
Till youre back in my arms, back in my arms again
Till youre back in my arms Ill be old lonesome till then
And honey I wont eat and I wont even sleep
Ill be walking these toes off of both of my feet
Till youre back in my arms, back in my arms again
Well Im getting to know this old town like never before
Walking every street knocking on every door
Girl wherever you are I want you back
I love you baby and Im sure about that
What ever it takes theres nothing that I wont do
Till youre back in my arms, back in my arms again
Till youre back in my arms Ill be old lonesome till then
And honey I wont eat and I wont even sleep
Ill be walking these toes off of both of my feet
Till youlre back in my arms, back in my arms again
I must have been a fool I confess
To ever let you go but I aint gonna rest
Till youre back in my arms, back in my arms again
Till youre back in my arms Ill be old lonesome till then
And honey I wont eat and I wont even sleep
Ill be walking these toes off of both of my feet
Till youre back in my arms, back in my arms again
song performed by by Kenny Chesney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Leading the Men
They praise the orders of a man who leads,
Yes, a prize awaits the worthy deeds;
Foraging for trustworthy components
The community is working opponents,
For the life and generation of men
Commends women to be ten
Fingers and
Toes.
The feet of a man are like the children
Who work for their spouses, and then
We work for more, nevertheless,
Striving adventurously in this mess.
Who leads now?
The adulthood of people shall conquer
Any person who is child or with honour.
poem by Naveed Akram
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