Reflection In A Phial
Reflection in Phial
I look at my hands they are brown as a farmer’s, this pleases me
although I have no tractor or a mule. A workman’s sturdy hands,
all socialists should have hands that have harvested carrots.
I flex the muscles of my upper arms, see the faint movement
like mice moving under thawing spring snow. Glorious vanity to
think I used to do 100 press ups a day only because I lived in fear
of being a weakling. I think of sex, and sadly conclude I never was
a great lover, when the act was done I reached for the book I was
reading. Yet women liked me because I was not pretentious, they
also tried to domesticate me as I had an affinity to walk my own
way and often ended up in seedy bars. The squalid side of life has
always mystified me, why does a person choose a road that leads to
ruin and hardship? I have always been lazy, strenuous effort will not
touch me. But I would like to have my muscular arms back.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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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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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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Lover, Come!
lover, come!
i cannot bear another moment.
i walk aimless through fields,
down wooded paths
to where the water sings
against the rocks!
i have forgotten you,
forgotten your name,
forgotten your face!
all that i have left are
the faint memories
of smells and tastes
and hunger
and timeless indentions
left by touch and feel
and need
lover, come!
lover, come!
through storms and battles,
years of hardship and loss...
through chains and bars and tears
never cried, words never formed...
i have travelled, i have endured,
alone, and cold, ... beaten, and proud,
tired, and sleepless...
till now i am old.
lover, come!
my body yearns and burns,
my hands tremble-
yet are strong!
i want to feel you again,
i want to know you again.
to conquer and surrender,
never knowing which is which,
not caring!
lover, come!
in the still of night,
in the heat of day,
come take my hand!
we'll walk off together
without a glance, without regrets,
daring to live these precious moments
lover, come!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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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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A Picture On A Café Wall
A farmer and his mule are kicking
up dust on their way to Messines.
The mule has very long ears and
the farmer wears a big, black hat.
Side by side they walk the yonder
yet, they have time to get there.
The road is asphalted now, and
dust settles on the grassy verge.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Anywhere You Choose
With this heart I'll meet you,
With this heart I'll greet you,
Anywhere you choose.
With these hands I'll undress you,
With these hands I'll caress you,
Anytime you choose.
With these arms I'll hold you,
With these arms I'll enfold you,
Anyplace you choose.
With these lips I'll kiss you,
With these lips I'll bliss you,
Anyway you choose.
With my love I'll adore you,
With my love I'll amour you,
Any moment you choose.
With my eyes I'll wake you,
With my eyes I'll make you
Desire me, any day you choose.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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I Know You Will Return Back One Day
I know you will return back one day
With the touch of your hands you will heal my wounds
Those hands that at the past were companions of my road
With their tender touch how long they wiped away my tears
I will tell you about my days after the day that you have gone
I will throw my poor body in your arms and i'll cry
I know you will come and knock my door one day
And if I was not alive my spirit will be there
I will throw my tired soul in your shoulders and i'll cry
And then all my tears will disappear
In your arms my heart will born once again
To fly free at the sky and will sing your pure love song
And my heart will get free from the prison of my chest.
poem by Sossi Khachadourian
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Lover Lay Down
Spring sweet rhythm dance in my head
Slip into my lovers hands
Kiss me wont you kiss me now
And sleep I would inside your mouth
Dont be us too shy
Knowing its no big surprise
That I will wait for you
I will wait for no one but you
Oh please lover lay down
Spend this time with me
Together share this smile
Lover lay down
Spend this time with me
Walk with me, walk with you
Hold my hands your hands
So much we have dreamed
And you were so much younger
Hard to explain that we are stronger
A million reasons life to deny
Lets toss them away
See you and me we
Lay down look see
She and he
By my lovers side
Together share this smile
Lover lay down
Oh please oh please
Please lover lay down
Oh please lover lay down
And you weep lover lay down
Cause its over lover lay down
Say love, say love, say love, say love, say love
Could I love you
Could you love me
Darling its all the same
til we dance away
Chasing me all around
Leading me all around
Leading me all around in circles
Say.......
song performed by by Dave Matthews Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Storm Out On The Sea
As a girl I watched the sailing ships
Like white birds on the sea
Their sails were wings that rode the wind
My heart longed to be free
I saw you standing by the sea
The beach was dark as death
But your hand was warm against my face
Your kiss was my life's breath
And lovin' you's like drowning in a storm out on the sea
Put your arms around me darling
Now and rescue me
And lovin' you's like drowning and I feel so all alone
Put your arms around me
And I'll never sail alone
You never said you'd stay with me
I never tied your hands
The way some frightened women do to keep their love on land
Where they can walk dry-footed
And never fear the tide
Or the moon upon the water
In their lover's arms they hide
The rain upon my body beat me down upon the sand
And the clouds came low and lonely
Loke lost sailors seeking land
Soon I learned that lovin' you means drowning in the sea
And you turned your back on me
song performed by by Dixie Chicks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Nature Of Freedom
freedom is
movement, the flying of arms
the winged hands
fish fingers
we look at it from the severance point of view
the possibility of coming back
for another wholeness
is nil
it is the union with another one distinct from us
like a star to grass
like ships without anchor without any definite port to land
like meteors moving to an uncertain destination
freedom is not a wall
never a pillar
it is the wind always the wind no matter how you try to hold it
with your hands
its escape is its nature.
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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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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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
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Snow White Transparent
“Mirror… Mirror…”
Snow White stops
Looks down at
Her hand
Perfectly pale
Unblemished
Young and
Innocent
But damned
So damned
The wicked
Woman knew
Smiled and knew
“This is what you want”
Hands her the
Apple, poisoned
And red
No one knew
That Snow White
Knew, knew
The Truth
No one
Suspects her
Not Snow White
Pure, perfect
Snow White
“Mirror… Mirror…”
A brush bristles
Through her hair
Snow White looks
At her reflection
In the Mirror
Her mirror
The Wicked
Woman’s mirror
Snow White’s
Image smiles
Sadly at her
No hope left
“On the wall…”
He comes in
Princely in
His ways
Snow White does
Not look at
Him, not at him
Oh no
She cannot
She resents him
It is not apples
That are poisoned
But lips
“Snow…? ”
Without words
She undresses
Revealing glorious
Pale body
His to touch
Snow White
Watches his hands
Lower and closes
Her eyes
This is not love
Love is not—
Love is
“Seven little men…”
She falls into the
Dark corners of
Her mind
Where poison
Still chokes her
And there is
Nothing but
Death and silence
Oh, for the silence
Snow White turns
To look at The Mirror
And asks:
“Who is fairest of them all? ”
poem by Elizabeth Rebel
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The Touch Of Your Hand
I was fascinated by your hands yesterday
touching all those you met on your way.
Holding the hand of a child so tenderly.
Working hard to care for friends and family.
Those hands were the hands of the Lord.
They spoke more powerfully than any word.
And I saw sweet works of Jesus taking place
as you reached out to touch others by His grace.
But then to my pleasure and my great joy
you reached out taking the hand of your Roy.
Lifting my soul to such heavenly heights
and filling my heart with loving delights.
It was such a privilege to hold and be near
touching the hand of the one I love so dear.
I felt I was being held by the hand of the Lord
for such blessings can only come from God.
My dear — Grow old with me, my lovely wife.
We'll walk forward like this the rest of our life.
Hand in hand, step by step and day by day.
Together with the Lord, let's walk His way.
Back In Your Arms Again
(from the video blood brothers)
You said once I was your treasure, and I saw your face in every store
The promises we make at night, oh thats all they are
Unless we fill them with faith and love theyre emty as a howlin wind.
Now darlin I just wanna be
Back in your arms, back in your arms again..
Back in your arms, back in your arms again.
Back in your arms, back in your arms again.
You came to me with love and kindness, but all my life Ive been a prisoner
Of my own blindness
I met you with indifference, and I dont know why.
Now I wake from my dream, I wake from my dream to this world.
Where all the shadow and darkness and a dark sky unfurls.
And all the love Ive thrown away and lost, honey Im longing for again.
Now theres nothing that I wouldnt do if I could be
Back in your arms, back in your arms again.
Back in your arms, back in your arms again.
Back in your arms, back in your arms again.
Back in your arms
(alternative firstverse)
In my dream my love was lost, I lived by luck and faith.
I carried you inside of me, and praied it wouldnt be to late.
Now Im standin on this empty road, where nothin moves but the wind...
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
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
Through Snaky Lanes I Wander
Through snakey lanes I wander,
Blink my eyes in the dark.
Feel the silence settle on my skin,
And in the distance, hear a dog bark.
Its night I know.
Yet I am surprised,
That the light is nowhere.
It's this darkness I despise.
I glide my bare hands,
Along moist slimy walls.
Trying to find my way out,
Into heavens illuminated halls.
But the farther I walk,
The farther I seem to be.
The hot dank sewage smell,
Tells me, its hell that I see.
I flail my arms,
As far as I can.
Trying to break the vice,
That binds me.
Drags me to where I began.
While I suffer this turmoil,
A stream of water catches my eye.
I watch it flow on the road,
Accommodating the low and the high.
Slowly hope glimmered,
As I learned from the water,
The more you struggle,
Hells fires get hotter.
Go with the flow.
Pain results from intervention.
Let life show you a way.
Sit back, relax, without tension
The water slithered,
On the uneven dank road.
Unperturbed it made its way.
Even the hard road yielded.
The water eroded it away.
Patience is the key,
The light-house of life.
Perseverance is the tool,
To carve out your life.
I suddenly felt free,
To follow my heart.
The hands stopped flailing.
I had found a place to start.
I followed the water,
Like an obedient student.
Chucked my way of living,
Realized it makes sense to be prudent.
But lo behold! the water too,
Lead me to hell's gate.
For running down the slopes,
Unabated, it reached its fate.
The pure stream drowned,
In the ugly drain.
The water lost its identity.
Its purity got a stain.
I don't want to flow,
On a pre destined way,
Only to discover it's an end to my day.
I want to carve.
Be a master of my destiny.
I am not as lifeless,
As the water I now pity.
I flex my muscles.
Try to rediscover my course.
And stretch my arms.
Shout for directions till my throats hoarse.
Through snaky lanes I wander,
Blink my eyes in the dark.
Feel the silence settle on my skin.
Yet determined, to make my mark.
poem by Dipti Date Gokhale
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To flow or carve? .......Destiny or will?
Through snakey lanes I wander,
Blink my eyes in the dark.
Feel the silence settle on my skin,
And in the distance, hear a dog bark.
Its night I know.
Yet I am surprised,
That the light is nowhere.
It's this darkness I despise.
I glide my bare hands,
Along moist slimy walls.
Trying to find my way out,
Into heavens illuminated halls.
But the farther I walk,
The farther I seem to be.
The hot dank sewage smell,
Tells me, its hell that I see.
I flail my arms,
As far as I can.
Trying to break the vice,
That binds me. drags me to where I began.
While I suffer this turmoil,
A stream of water catches my eye.
I watch it flow on the road,
Accommodating the low and the high.
Slowly hope glimmered,
As I learned from the water,
The more you struggle,
Hells fires get hotter.
Go with the flow.
Pain results from intervention.
Let life show you a way.
Sit back, relax, without tension
The water slithered,
On the uneven dank road.
Unperturbed it made its way.
Even the hard road yielded.
The water eroded it away.
Patience is the key,
The light-house of life.
Perseverance is the tool,
To carve out your life.
I suddenly felt free,
To follow my heart.
The hands stopped flailing.
I had found a place to start.
I followed the water,
Like an obedient student.
Chucked my way of living,
Realized it makes sense to be prudent.
But lo behold! the water too,
Lead me to hell's gate.
For running down the slopes,
Unabated, it reached its fate.
The pure stream drowned,
In the ugly drain.
The water lost its identity.
Its purity got a stain.
I don't want to flow,
On a pre destined way,
Only to discover
It's an end to my day.
I want to carve.
Be a master of my destiny.
I am not as lifeless,
As the water I now pity.
I flex my muscles.
Try to rediscover my course.
And stretch my arms.
Shout for directions till my throats hoarse.
Through snaky lanes I wander,
Blink my eyes in the dark.
Feel the silence settle on my skin.
Yet determined, to make my mark.
poem by Dipti Date Gokhale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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