Tough Hands, Tender Heart
My Granddad's hands were somewhat huge;
You might say that they had been well used;
Working in coal mines all his life was tough;
So his hands had become callused and rough;
The first time you notice him you would stare;
You'd get the impression of him being a bear;
Strong grip; that of a sound able-bodied mans;
Time progressing forward wrinkled his hands;
Always vigorously working with enough to do;
If needed he would repeatedly find time for you;
He was a man paying attention with a lot of care;
When he rested his hands were folded in prayer;
If he called you without getting an answer quick;
His clearing his throat would always did the trick;
Walking he had my hand in one the other a tea cup;
My juvenile hand in his was gently swallowed up;
Hands tough, yet comfortable for the most part;
One thing for sure he had a really tender heart;
His warm and cozy hands left me feeling at peace;
Walking with him all my hurt would soon release;
poem by Joseph Blitch
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Related quotes
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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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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Too Hot To Handle
(myles goodwyn)
Published by northern goody two tunes, ltd./capac - ascap
You tried so hard to please me, you have me on your list
Just one more heart to play with, I know that you tried your best
Well Im not the kind to take it, Ill turn, Ill walk away
Cause you cast your spell upon me, but things wont stay this way
I try to love you, I try to make you see
But everytime I turn around, youre walking out on me
I cant take it no more, I say
Youre too hot (too hot), Ive got my hands full
Youre so hot (so hot), too hot to handle
Its so tough (so tough), theres nothin left to try
I have a thing for your love, but weve both had enough
Because youre too hot to handle
They told me all about you, that Id better watch my step
Ive had alot of girlfriends, but no one like you yet
I wanna be the only one, you say that you want the same
But youre much too restless for me girl, Im tired of playin games
The change surrounds you, cant you see its all around you
I know I cant take a chance, I wont go again
I cant take it no more, I say
Youre too hot (too hot), Ive got my hands full
Youre so hot (so hot), too hot to handle
Its so rough (so rough), theres nothin left to try
I have a thing for your love, but weve both had enough
Because youre too hot to handle
Your eyes, they dance with fire, the flames just tease the soul
Your eyes concede a passion girl, but the blood in your heart runs cold
I say Im not gonna waste my time, I dont want you on my mind
I said its over now, were through, I wont waste my time no more with you
I try to love you, I try to make you see
But everytime I turn around, youre walking out on me
I cant take it no more, I say
Youre too hot (too hot), Ive got my hands full
Youre so tough (so tough), too hot to handle
Its so rough (so rough), theres nothin left to try
I had a thing for your love, but weve both had enough
Because youre too hot to handle (too hot), youre much too hot for me
Youre too hot (too hot), I can feel it girl, much too lazy (too hot)
This boy is gone, its time to run girl, youre too hot (too hot)
Youre much too hot for me, cant you see youre (too hot)
Ive had enough, gonna walk away now
song performed by by April Wine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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H o p e
my little hands are always looking for you
my little hands always want to hold you
my little hands will never let you go
I want to walk and be comfortable
together in your grasp
while my little hands have not been able to conquer the world
but at the moment my little hands into a future force
hands that will always hold you
and will not let you go
smile and my little hands is hope
who will take care of you
someday - is my devotion to you
Empty
try looking at my hands
they are empty now
for i have released
what fullness was there
what fist
what clenched hands i had
once they were so
beautiful
in bravery
but
then
there is always a threshold
of courage
suddenly you find hands opening
to the sun
hands without a grip
hands that wave goodbye
to all your friends
hands that
grasp nothing.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Hands
One hand enough to caress, but it needs two hands to clasp
One hand enough to grasp, but it needs two hands to pull it up
One hand enough to make agreement, but it needs two hands to clap
One hand enough to create, but it needs two hands to balance
One hand enough to reject, but it needs two hands to protect
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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How Did You Experience The Hands Of Time?
the hands of time
could be the hands of my lover
there is no rush
nothing is as quick as happiness
that savors itself
slowly in the taste buds of
imbibing
love and affection
caress and not duress
on the other hand
the hands of time can be the hands of the master
to a slave
whipping and humiliating
forcefully putting furrows in our foreheads
breaking bones and overusing cartilages
till they break
as they stretch beyond the limits
of their elasticity
it all depends on you
you are the master of your own universe
make time your ally
your best friend
let it go gently over your heart
let it love you
and time with you
is the air that you breathe
savored by your nostrils
happiness and life to the
roots of your lungs.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Father's Hands
My Father's Hands
As I look upon my father's hands
now a spotted, wrinkled road map,
that time, sun and sweat,
have hardened them to a painted tortoise shell.
Those, the same hands that I once feared,
and yet at the same time so gentle
that they held my tiny hand deep within.
I feared nothing as if he was the grace of God.
Will they still remember me?
My Father's hands.
9 April 2008
Too Much Time On My Hands
Written by tommy shaw
Lead vocals by tommy shaw
Sitting on this barstool talking like a damn fool
Got the twelve oclock news blues
And Ive given up hope on the afternoon soaps
And a bottle of cold brew
Is it any wonder Im not crazy? is it any wonder Im sane at all
Well Im so tired of losing- I got nothing to do and all day to do it
I go out cruisin but Ive no place to go and all night to get there
Is it any wonder Im not a criminal?
Is it any wonder Im not in jail?
Is it any wonder Ive got
Too much time on my hands, its ticking away with my sanity
Ive got too much time on my hands, its hard to believe such a calamity
Ive got too much time on my hands and its ticking away from me
Too much time on my hands, too much time on my hands
Too much time on my hands
Well, Im a jet fuel genius - I can solve the worlds problems
Without even trying
I have dozens of friends and the fun never ends
That is, as long as Im buying
Is it any wonder Im not the president
(hes not the president)
Is it any wonder Im null and void?
Is it any wonder Ive got
Too much time on my hands, its ticking away at my sanity
Ive got too much time on my hands, its hard to believe such a calamity
Ive got too much time on my hands and its ticking away from me
Too much time on my hands, too much time on my hands
Too much time on my hands
song performed by by Styx
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Give me space, give me time
It is the hands of time that
Heals.let its hands caress
My weary thoughts. So much
Have been lost in my fingers
Slipping away. I walk down
The road now, to freedom.
Hand in hand with the tree
And twigs. Feeling the
Caresses of the leaves
On the road to my freedom.
Give me space. Let my wholeness
Occupy. I need to expand
My choking life. Give me time.
Give me the healing hands
Of time. Let me sleep on its
Palms. I am throwing my
Hands in the air. I want to fly
Now. Sensational. I must.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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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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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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Art of Hand
The introduction, the greeting
The agreement, the congratulation
The peace maker, the test of power
All sealed in hands shaking
The personality, the state of mind
The building character, the contemplation
The history vow, the future plan
All shown in hands writing
Whether tight, or just slight hold
Whether warm, whether cold
Whether assuring, whether binding
All proofed in hands joining
The cheer, the appreciation
The approval, the signal
The encouragement, the regret
All raise in hands clapping
The sharing, the choice
The help, the guide
The small baby, the big brother
All found in hands connecting
To caress, to hurt
To give, to steal
To create, to destroy
All done in hands working
The skill, the fondness
The investigation, the invention
The attitude, the intention
All answered in hands playing
The praying, the waiting
The anger, the defense
The style, the control
All closed in hands crossing
Whether delicate, whether clumsy
The green, the fire
Rough in struggle, smooth in shadow
All felt in hands touching
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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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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A Lifetime In Your Hands
Baby.
On the floor they lay
Not a wrinkle or crease to save
Little hands do wave
Wanting to play
Young child.
In dirt and muck
Hands still mild and soft
More by youth than luck
Plays the young child hands aloft
Teenager.
Learning in school
For peers appear cool
In paint and ink
Their hands do stink
Young adult.
Now working hard
Sweat and toil
midday sun, mad
Hands now a trowel
Middle age.
Hands hard and worn
Some cut, sworn
Holds a child
Strong and mild
50 - 60
Wrinkles appear
Fingers and thumbs
On the rear
Liver spots like speckled crumbs
Old age (ish)
Wrinkled and lined
Courted and dined
Etched in their story of life
Sprinkled with some strife
End of time.
Transparent and Boney
Face hard set, maybe lonely
Hands wave a sigh
Soon to say goodbye
RG
poem by Robert Green
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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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Walking The Floor On My Hands Over You
Walking the floor on my hands over you
I just cant believe what youre trying to do
Spinning around and around and you know im
Walking the floor on my hands over you
Walking the floor on my hands over you
I just cant believe what youve been trying to do
Spinning around and around and you know im
Walking the floor on my hands over you
Everybody wants somebody
And I can make it just for you
Wont you tell me please tell me
What youre trying to do
Everybody says you want me
Baby Im not too sure
Just what youve been doing
It should be against the law
Walking the floor on my hands over you
I just cant believe what youre trying to do
Spinning around and around and you know im
Walking the floor on my hands over you
Well you got me
I dont know whats going down
Tell me where you want me
And put me back on the ground
Everybody says you want me
Baby Im not too sure
Just what youve been doing
It should be against the law
Walking the floor on my hands over you
I just cant believe what youre trying to do
Spinning around and around and you know im
Walking the floor on my hands over you
Walking the floor on my hands over you
I just cant believe what youre trying to do
Spinning around and around and you know im
Walking the floor on my hands over you
Walking the floor on my hands over you
Walking the floor on my hands over you
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Those Hands Joining
Great grandma’s hands
Grandma’s, mama’s,
sister's hands
Aunt’s and niece’s
Hands, they join today
An epic telling the stories
About touch, about prayer,
About reaching, about the years
Of caressing and holding on
To love, persevering and
Resting the hands on the
Hands of the other hands
Those moments of silence
When the hands speak more
When the mouths accept
The loss of the power of words
When even the hearts give in
Because the hands are warmer
And so comforting.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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