Exile
My hands have not touched pleasure since your hands, --
No, -- nor my lips freed laughter since 'farewell',
And with the day, distance again expands
Voiceless between us, as an uncoiled shell.
Yet, love endures, though starving and alone.
A dove's wings clung about my heart each night
With surging gentleness, and the blue stone
Set in the tryst-ring has but worn more bright.
poem by Harold Hart Crane
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Related quotes
Carrier Letter
My hands have not touched water since your hands, -
No; - nor my lips freed laughter since 'farewell'.
And with the day, distance again expands
Between us, voiceless as an uncoiled shell.
Yet, - much follows, much endures… Trust birds alone:
A dove's wings clung about my heart last night
With surging gentleness; and the blue stone
Set in the tryst-ring has but worn more bright.
poem by Harold Hart Crane
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My Distance Relations (Dedicated To Nena Helen Enyinwa
Staring at the sky i see you,
like the dove amongs many
birds you stand out, i stretch
my hands to feel your beauty
but distance play a massive
role here, through pictures i know
your cute smiles. Far but our bloods
knows each other, my eyes
are starving to for yours, my
hands are longing for yours,
my lips are wet and waiting
for your cheeks, sometimes
doubts catch up with me, still
i send kisses, love and hugs
through the breeze that find it
way across the atlantic ocean.
Till we meet you are and always
be my distance relation.
poem by Enyinwa Okechukwu Enyinwa
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Night Comes Creeping
Night comes creeping slowly o'er me,
Like a vapor cold and gray;
Dim the track that lies before me,
Lost the lingering smile of day.
As a river, nearing ocean,
Drops the brooklet's merry bell,
I forget hope's wild emotion;
Love and life, farewell, farewell!
Eyes above me raining sorrow,
Lips too tender to be true,
In the sunshine of tomorrow
Glow and sweetness shall renew.
I have trod a weary measure,
Fairy-tales no more I tell.
False is pain, and fleeting pleasure;
Love and life, farewell, farewell!
Softly through the darkened heaven,
Like a vision in the night,
Float the purple wings of even;
No more laughter, no more light.
Close mine eyes, worn out with weeping,
Weary pulses rest as well!
In the dust and silence sleeping,
Love and life, farewell, farewell!
poem by Rose Terry Cooke
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Ad Manus Puellae
I was always a lover of ladies' hands!
Or ever mine heart came here to tryst,
For the sake of your carved white hands' commands;
The tapering fingers, the dainty wrist;
The hands of a girl were what I kissed.
I remember an hand like a _fleur-de-lys_
When it slid from its silken sheath, her glove;
With its odours passing ambergris:
And that was the empty husk of a love.
Oh, how shall I kiss your hands enough?
They are pale with the pallor of ivories;
But they blush to the tips like a curled sea-shell:
What treasure, in kingly treasuries,
Of gold, and spice for the thurible,
Is sweet as her hands to hoard and tell?
I know not the way from your finger-tips,
Nor how I shall gain the higher lands,
The citadel of your sacred lips:
I am captive still of my pleasant bands,
The hands of a girl, and most your hands.
poem by Ernest Christopher Dowson
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Am I In Or Am I Out?
beyond all your hands
i shall be another dove
when you try to enclose me
i coo,
begging, i come with a song
mistaken as pleasure
it is a philosophy of
freedom,
an entreaty that you
shall never
fully understand
for i myself is that
stranger
between a door
confused whether he is
in or
out,
when i fly away
i shall carry only my own wings
i leave my claws
and beak
and some feathers
so i may be as light
as a sigh
i need to see a door
and feel it with my hands
when i open it
how can i? my hands
have been bartered for
wings
that i always dream of.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Wings Of A Dove
Take time for your pleasure
And laugh with love
Take the hand of another
And sing for the wings of a dove
Woah woah, for the wings of a dove
Woah woah, for the wings of a dove
Look up at the rooftops
When youre walking round
Dont think for a moment
Of looking down
Woah woah, (yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah) for the wings of a dove
Woah woah, for the wings of a dove
Woah woah, for the wings of a dove
Woah woah, for the wings of a dove
Ha-lellujah (lellujah)
Ha-lellujah (lellujah)
Look up at the rooftops (the roof)
When youre walking round
Dont think for a moment
Of looking down
At a room at the top
Where were not allowed
Cheer to the echo
Can you hear the sound
Woah woah, (yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah) for the wings of a dove
Woah woah, (yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah) for the wings of a dove
Woah woah, for the wings of a dove
Woah woah, for the wings of a dove
Yeah yeah yeah (etc.)
Woah woah, for the wings of a dove
Woah woah, for the wings of a dove
Et cetera
Blue train!
Blue train taking me from you....
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Touch
(rickfors)
Quiet shadows plays in the evening
In the cold sea the sun went down
Bright stars on the blue water
In the hours of the night
All the sweetness touched by hands
Everythings close but so far away
Everythings given to people as a law
The wind rests
The creek is like a mirror
And the sailor takes down the sails
Over the meadow
The mist is dancing
You cant believe it
But this is all yours
All the sweetness touched by hands
Everythings close but so far away
Everythings given to people as a law
Break
Quiet shadows plays in the evening
In the cold sea the sun went down
Bright stars on the blue water
In the hours of the night
All the sweetness touched by hands
Everythings close but so far away
Everythings given to people as a law
song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My prayers
I touched your cold hands
hands that worked the land
caressed your tousled hair
hair that had known flair
kissed your silent lips
lips that sweet secrets keep
My prayers in vain
tears leaving stain
Your words lodged themselves
deep in the crevices and shelves
awaiting the moment of freedom
to shine in the kingdom
I touched her little hands
hands that hold no plan
caressed her soft hair
hair that dances in the air
kissed her sweet lips
lips that smile at the tips
My prayers in pain
soul bare lain
Her laughter clear as bells
chasing away spells
dispersing shadows with her light
casting wrongs putting them right
Your words came flying back
Have faith tho thee lack
it will sustain thee
in life without plea
My prayers in gratitude
love in servitude
Quiet Hands
Her work worn hands are quiet now.
Something I never thought to see
She used them so industriously
no idleness would she allow.
Except on Sundays, even then
she used her hands to underline.
The tales she told of Holy Men
from the Good Book she thought divine.
Although in fact she could not read
her versions were from memory.
She still held firmly to her creed.
Her brand of Christianity.
Which she expressed practically.
Not words but deeds her chosen way.
In the event of tragedy
she offered help without delay.
She will be missed by everyone
whose life she touched in some small way.
or all the acts of kindness done.
To other people every day
Her work worn hands lie quietly
in prayerful pose upon her breast
As mourners pass respectfully
to say farewell as they think best.
24-Mar-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Your Hands
When your hands leap
towards mine, love,
what do they bring me in flight?
Why did they stop
at my lips, so suddenly,
why do I know them,
as if once before,
I have touched them,
as if, before being,
they travelled
my forehead, my waist?
Their smoothness came
winging through time,
over the sea and the smoke,
over the Spring,
and when you laid
your hands on my chest
I knew those wings
of the gold doves,
I knew that clay,
and that colour of grain.
The years of my life
have been roadways of searching,
a climbing of stairs,
a crossing of reefs.
Trains hurled me onwards
waters recalled me,
on the surface of grapes
it seemed that I touched you.
Wood, of a sudden,
made contact with you,
the almond-tree summoned
your hidden smoothness,
until both your hands
closed on my chest,
like a pair of wings
ending their flight.
poem by Pablo Neruda
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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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Parted Presence
LOVE, I speak to your heart,
Your heart that is always here.
Oh draw me deep to its sphere,
Though you and I are apart,
And yield, by the spirit's art,
Each distant gift that is dear.
O love, my love, you are here!
Your eyes are afar to-day,
Yet, love, look now in mine eyes.
Two hearts sent forth may despise
All dead things by the way.
All between is decay,
Dead hours and this hour that dies.
O love, look deep in mine eyes!
Your hands to-day are not here,
Yet lay them, love, in my hands.
The hourglass sheds its sands
All day for the dead hours' bier;
But now, as two hearts draw near,
This hour like a flower expands.
O love, your hands in my hands!
Your voice is not on the air,
Yet, love, I can hear your voice:
It bids my heart to rejoice
As knowing your heart is there,—
A music sweet to declare
The truth of your steadfast choice.
O love, how sweet is your voice!
To-day your lips are afar,
Yet draw my lips to them, love.
Around, beneath, and above,
Is frost to bind and to bar;
But where I am and you are,
Desire and the fire thereof.
O kiss me, kiss me, my love!
Your heart is never away,
But ever with mine, for ever,
For ever without endeavour,
To-morrow, love, as to-day;
Two blent hearts never astray,
Two souls no power may sever,
Together, O my love, for ever!
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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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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Prisoner Of Your Love
i was a captive of your heart
a prisoner of your love.
like a prisoner i was whipped and beat
tied to your love, hands and feet.
i found myself tied and gagged
and i could not speak
for my voice was much to weak.
so i gave in to all that you would do.
because i was so much in love with you.
you took my love and like a doctor
dissected my heart, separated it
and pulled it apart.
you wanted to see all its functions
and how it would relate to you
and if i would leave you
lonely, sad and blue.
once you saw that my heart was true
and that there was nothing inside
that would want to hurt you.
you accepted my love and untied my chains
for you had so much to gain.
you gave into me as the day
gives in to the night.
so i took your heart and
we soared into flight
our hearts was on the wings of a dove
showing the world how true our love.
poem by Louis Rams
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Adieu
Waving whispering trees,
What do you say to the breeze
And what says the breeze to you?
'Mid passing souls ill at ease,
Moving murmuring trees,
Would ye ever wave an Adieu?
Tossing turbulent seas,
Winds that wrestle with these,
Echo heard in the shell,—
'Mid fleeting life ill at ease,
Restless ravening seas,—
Would the echo sigh Farewell?
Surging sumptuous skies,
For ever a new surprise,
Clouds eternally new,—
Is every flake that flies,
Widening wandering skies,
For a sign—Farewell, Adieu?
Sinking suffering heart
That know'st how weary thou art,—
Soul so fain for a flight,—
Aye, spread your wings to depart,
Sad soul and sorrowing heart,—
Adieu, Farewell, Good-night.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti (1876)
Submitted by anonym
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First love
I miss the times of love
When I would beat the tables with my bare hands
She would dance so beautifully
When together we would sing a song in Ga
We believed we could fly
Even without wings we touched the stars
She would hold my hands and say my name
And smile at me with love in her eyes
I knew in that very moment
I would never fall in love again
My heart another would never have
And so would she, I heard her say in my dreams
Never again, and never another.
poem by Nicholas Boateng
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Unconditionally Open
these hands,
that took yours
and walked away from all
we knew.
these hands,
that laid brick,
cut wood,
plowed gardens,
picked up trash
built fences for the dogs,
held the children
when they were small,
held your hands
at the hospital
stroked your body,
touching forbidden places
with gentleness and
passion
wrote the poetry
hidden in your eyes
these hands,
now old and calloused,
sometimes tremble,
sometimes hard as stone
these hands are open,
without fear or trepidation,
unconditionally open
waiting for yours.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Rings
Little fragile, Flimsy bands,
Worn on shapely hands,
More despair to men have brought,
Than all the battles ever fought
Still bestowal of a ring,
Has more joy contrived to bring
In one ne'er-recurring hour,
Than have knoledge, wealth or pow'r
Little emblem of Romance!
Wherein thy significance?
Gold? Most fickle metel known!
Diamond? Coldest, hardest stone!
Whereas plain gold wedding bands,
Gracious caring, work-worn hands,
Countless home sustain and bless
With real and happiness.
poem by Howard Johnson
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Wisper Me my golden wedding ring.
Wisper to me. Tell me everything. Tell me why you placed a golden ring on my finger, is it love and lust? or is it hate and sadness u seek.'Why does your eyes weep my love? ' i said on a cold and clear winters night.'I cry because im happy to be in a place where its just you and me'.he replied, You touched my face with cold hands, i now remember nothing..... Of you or that night, as it took me away.
In a box i layed with a single wisper in my memory locked the last thing you gave me was not want i expected from someone as important as you.A gold wedding ring you placed in my hand. ' Marry me please' you said in a voice i'll never forget.
Even in my winters grave, i'll never forget, but never forgive.
So may i ask you this before you send me away on the stream which will carry me far far away, as my lips touch your ear i said this 'Wisper me my golden wedding ring'. And now i leave you staring at my golden wedding ring.
poem by Nicole Baker
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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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