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Spotless hands

With her hands together she prayed,
when I was sick sat at my bed
and with bright eyes she looked into my soul
past how things look on the exterior

and now that life, destiny destroys me,
it is still she that stands with me,
she is still kneeling
for the salvation of my soul

where she stands with spotless hands,
held together
hands that carry the marks of life,
while she asks for no own gain

only bringing me the whole time to God,
never complaining over her destiny.

[O smettelose hande (O spotless hands) by N.P. Van Wyk Louw.]

poem by Gert Strydom
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Our Destiny Is In Our Own Hands

Our destiny is in our own hands some have been known to say
But circumstance in all of that must have some part to play
If you are born on no hope street and homeless in your youth
To you our destiny is in our own hands does not have a ring of truth.

Our destiny is in our own hands to some may well apply
It may apply to you and he and her as well as I
But not of course to everyone each day thousands of hunger die
Our destiny is in our own hands to the millions is a lie.

The innocents who die in war and acts of terrorism did not create their destiny
They would not wish it on themselves for to die so tragically
Their destiny was in others hands which often is the case
They just happened at the wrong time for to be in the wrong place.

That our destiny is in our own hands apply to some maybe
But ninety nine per cent of street kids will die in poverty
Due to their circumstances of birth they are condemned to fail
And some of them die of drug overdoses and some of them die in jail.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Hands!

Hands! Gentle Hands!
When the Field at covert stands,
When your four-rear-old is sweating,
Foamed and fidgety and fretting
As a stray hound jumps the netting -
You can steady him and soothe him with your Hands!
Hands! Clever Hands!
When your tiring hunter lands
Over wall or ditch or double
With his noseband in the stubble,
That's the moment you're in trouble
If you have not got the saving gift of Hands!
Hands! Steady Hands!
When your reins seem useless bands,
With a mad brute going faster
And a toss-up which is master,
You may still avoid disaster
If Providence has given to you Hands!
Hands! Talking Hands!
At the fence below the Stands,
When you call on him to lead them,
That's the moment when you need them,
That's the time a horse will heed them
As you bring him up and help him with your Hands!
Hands! Horseman's Hands!
When the stooping fairy stands
At the cradle of a baby,
She has richer gifts, it may be,
But she never brought a better one than Hands!

poem by William Henry Ogilvie
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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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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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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 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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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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Lines Of My Hands

are we really meant for each other?
let the lines of our hands grow mouths
let them speak about a reunion of hearts
do i see you once again holding hands
with your shadow? or was it me wrapping
my hands with water? or blinding my eyes
with what fairies use in their flights?
the stars of the zodiac, what are they
really talking about? about us? two lips
fusing a rose? promises grasping for
protocols? the jalousies are like tongues
begging for words, and the floors are
empty arms thirsting for an embrace.
the lines of my hands are ants drawing
a destiny. I look at all these, and where
they must all lead me. One furrows for
death, the other delineates for life.
I cup the water of life, and drink.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sweet Torture

My melancholy was gold dust in your hands;
On your long hands I scattered my life;
My sweetnesses remained clutched in your hands;
Now I am a vial of perfume, emptied

How much sweet torture quietly suffered,
When, my soul wrested with shadowy sadness,
She who knows the tricks, I passed the days
kissing the two hands that stifled my life

poem by Alfonsina Storni
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The Fate of Destiny

destiny
held out his hand to me
and said I could rest in he
and he blessed me
but after I was of age
I set out on my own
to open my own cage
I know no longer whether
I'm in or out
just that they call me fate
destiny is proud of me
but only after I did
what I did that he said
wasn't allowed of me
to take into my hands
destiny

poem by Cameron Penrose
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Destiny

Sometimes I think I've lost my mind
I thought I'd left my past behind
I live my life and all I know is
Follow your dream and don't let go
No one can live for me
No one can see the things I see
I walk this road no one can tell me how to be
It's my destiny
There is no right, there is no wrong
There is no place where I belong
I've done my time I've held a strong end
My life is all about this song
No one can live for me
No one can see the things I see
I walk this road no one can tell me how to be
It's my destiny
If I threw it all away, would it change? (No)
I would live my life again, will you arrange it?
There is a magic in my heart
That I feel
Don't you know that God is love
And it's real
La la la la la la la...
No one can live for me
No one can see the things I see
I walk this road no one can tell me how to be
It's my destiny
My destiny
My destiny
My destiny
It's my destiny

song performed by by Lenny Kravitz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hymn 138

Saints in the hands of Christ

Jn. 10:28,29.

Firm as the earth thy gospel stands,
My Lord, my hope, my trust;
If I am found in Jesus' hands,
My soul can ne'er be lost.

His honor is engaged to save
The meanest of his sheep;
All that his heav'nly Father gave
His hands securely keep.

Nor death nor hell shall e'er remove
His favorites from his breast;
In the dear bosom of his love
They must for ever rest.

poem by Isaac Watts
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We Aint Much Different

(gary rossington -- johnny vanzant -- hughie thomasson -- rickey medlocke -- mike estes)
This is a story bout livin
A tale of a long hard road
Aint a whole lot of misgivins
Of the things that I thought I sowed
My daddy was a real hard worker
He said son there will come a day
Talk aint always cheap
And heres what daddy had to say
With these hands Ive made my livin
With these hands Ive held a child
With these hands Ive climbed a mountain
Sometimes we forget
We aint much different at all
He likes grits, you like the apple
There aint nothin wrong with that
He says yall, you say youse
It all depends on where youre at
Well a little bit of music is a whole lot of fun
And its always good for the soul
From new york city out to california
You know its only rock and roll
With these hands we come together
With these hands we can change the world
With these hands I play my music
Sometimes we forget
We aint much different at all
Oh, not at all
So what Im trying to tell you
Is that Im only one son of the south
Its gonna take more than you me and you
To work this whole thing out
With these hands Ive made my livin
With these hands Ive held a child
With these hands Ive climbed a mountain
Sometimes we forget
With these hands we come together
With these hands we can change the world
With these hands I play my music
Sometimes we forget
We aint much different
We aint much different
Aint much different
At all

song performed by by Lynyrd Skynyrd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Soul Less

And he walks soul less.
the past dark and endless.
skeltons we all have.
his always whispering.
And he walks soul less.

Grass green, but he cant smell it.
sky blue but he cant see it
life wonderess. but he has forgotten.
And he walks soul less.

Towards a destiny he cant avoid
a destiny he fears he created.
a destiny paid for in spades.
And he walks soul less

Scared, broken, unloved, shamed.
the ground all his eyes now ponder.
a man in body only.
And he walks soul less

poem by Vincent Armone
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Stick Up

Let's go
I've been loving you for years
I know that I was never clear
But I have no fear today
Cause I'm gonna say
What I gotta say
I don't wanna play no more
I'm busting through the door
I'm gonna take your heart for sure
Put your hands up in the air
It's a stick up
I'm go'n take your heart from here
Now let's fix up
Put your hands in the air, in the air, in the air
I'm gonna play my cards from here
and take this gamble
sure, my words are gonna fumble
but this being hard and humble
Ain't got me nowhere
Sure I'm scared but my life's a dare
And baby you just got so much flare
We'd be the perfect pair
I'm gonna share my mind with you
You've been blind and my life's blue
I'm taking you, I'm taking you
Put your hands up in the air
It's a stick up
I'm go'n take your heart from here
Now let's fix up
Put your hands in the air, in the air, in the air
Put your hands up in the air
It's a stick up
I'm gone take your heart from here
Now let's fix up
Put your hands in the air, in the air, in the air
In the air, in the air, in the air
When I first met you, I wanted to wet you
Not a gun, but a different content sexual
You try to run I still get you
Steel metal, not needed
A whole nother meaning
Don't want your gold, want your soul
Control ya heartbeating
Cause when I start squeezing that muscle
That's the trigger then I got you nigga
In your drop with spinners
Got your bodyguards with you
Diamond dog tag chain swinging
I have them thangs ringing
This is a robbery, and no one's getting free
Til that man, he comes with me
This is a robbery, and no one's getting free
Til that man he comes with me
Put your hands up in the air
It's a stick up
I'm go'n take your heart from here
Now let's fix up
Put your hands in the air, in the air, in the air
In the air, in the air, in the air
Put your hands up in the air
It's a stick up
I'm a take your heart from here
Now let's fix up
Put your hands in the air
Put your hands in the air
Put your hands....

song performed by by Kelis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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27

see the path of life
in opaqueness, learn to breathe
through the eyes,
do not trust love that much
for it, like everything else,
comes and goes,
bliss, hatred,
rottenness,
each man stands
by the side of his doorway
and hides his hands
inside his pocket
some however learns
to shove or
hold their hands out
to be free.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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My mother's hands

My mother had thick, wide, hands,
callused from years of hard work.
I used to like to hold them,
feel their strength and warmth

Those were the hands that cared,
caressed and held her me close.
Those were the hands that scrubbed
and washed, cooked for us and nursed.

My mother had beautiful hands
and would paint her nails light pink.
They were warm, artistic hands
that could crochet well and knit.

Those were the hands that created,
made beautiful shawls and clothes.
Those were the hands that altered dresses
I wore ‘til they were old.

My mother had beautiful hands
that cooked and cleaned and scrubbed,
and within the things that those hands did
were bundles and bundles of love.

poem by Ruth Walters
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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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Sad Wings Of Destiny

Mournful, yet grand is the destiny of man. Believing he can look destiny in the eye, without so much as flinching. And only after having swallowed the seeds of fate, did he find, they grew into hate. Making what was once water to the faithful, turn to nothing more, than blood, before the eyes of an unbeliever. Of all that man has been, or in his vanity, may come to believe, destiny, after having granted his wishes, also gave him more than he perceived. For only by the work of his own two hands, could such suffering be achieved. Leading him to fight against his destiny, even though, he had no hope of victory. Like pantomimes of white, on a background of black, his destiny, appears as a silken thread, lost in an endless labyrinth of time. Never knowing, only death transforms life into a destiny, for only death has no need for time. Having denied love, he sealed his fate. Unable to find the meaning and never seeing the truth of life, that it may only be found with another, but not alone. Fear, merely encouraged his ignominy and transported him to the nether world, where he will at last, take his final flight, on the sad wings of destiny

poem by Eric Paeplow
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