My Hands On My Head
my hands on my head
not to feel what hair is all about
remembering the
hairy feeling and the aftermath of desire
it is over
my hands on my head
for surrender
i do not kiss and tell
my hands on my chest
like holding some treasures
of gold and silver
that is what we are now
i have these seeds of silence
i sow them
and slowly and so patiently i am having this sole opportunity
watching them all grow
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Beach Chairs
Sitting on the beach chairs
watching the setting sun
holding hands and reminiscing
how it all begun
Sitting on the beach chairs
watching the ships out on the sea
holding hands and smiling
together we're meant to be
Sitting on the beach chairs
watching people walking past
holding hands and knowing
that our love will always last
Sitting on the beach chairs
watching the waves along the shore
holding hands we realize
our love is stronger than before
Sitting on the beach chairs
watching the changing tide
holding hands with happiness
to be by each others side
Sitting on the beach chairs
watching the sunrise
holding hands with tears of joy
there are no more good-byes
poem by Joyce Ebrecht
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Bruise
She holds her head within her hands
Quietly reeling
If only he could understand
What she's feeling
She moves into me
To kiss my shoulder
She waits patiently
For me to hold her
It's all I want
When I want
She's all I need
When it's all
It's all I have
When I lose
It's just a bruise
He holds his head within his hands
Contemplating
If only she could understand
Without waiting
She moves into me
To kiss my shoulder
She waits patiently
For me to hold her
Me to hold
It's all I want
When I want
She's all I need
When it's all
It's all I have
When I lose
It's just a bruise
And it's all we've ever known
Every moment
And it's for me I will grow
It's all I want
When I want
She's all I need
When it's all
It's all I have
When I lose
It's just a bruise
song performed by by Oleander
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Faith Healer
[Alex Harvey]
If your body's feeling bad
And it's the only one you have
You want to take away the pain
Go out walking in the rain
You watch the flowers go to bed
Ask the man inside your head
Your spirit never has to grieve
All you've got to do's believe
The faith healer, the faith healer
All you've got to do is feel
Your body's going to start to heal
The fingertips of holy fire,
Everlasting sweet desire
It never mattered
What the doctor said
The healer man will sail away
It's immortality for two,
Oh the miracles
They will come to you
From faith healer,the faith healer
Can I put my hands on you?
Can I put my hands on you?
Faith, and hope, and charity,
The simple relativity
He can make you understand
All you've got to take his hand
Remember somebody said
Ask the man inside your head
The fingertips of holy fire,
Everlasting sweet desire
The faith healer, the faith healer!
Can I put my hands on you?
Can I put my hands on you?
Let me put my hands on you?
Let me put my hands on you?
Can I put my hands on you?
Can I put my hands on you?
The faith healer, the faith healer...
song performed by by Helloween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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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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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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Lay Your Hands On Me
It's a feeling
Slowly rising
Sending stars spinning around me
Something happens
When I'm with you
Moving gravity by degrees
And I know some things are meant to be
And I know we are
When I hear you say
I love you
Lay your hands on me
Tell me how you feel
Still takes my breath away
We lie here honestly
Whisper once again
As you lay your hands on me
There's desire
When you touch me
Slowly rushing me to extremes
And I know some things are meant to be
And I know we are
When I hear you say
I love you
Lay your hands on me
Tell me how you feel
Still takes my breath away
We lie here honestly
Whisper once again
As you lay your hands on me
Together we were meant to be
And together we are
There's a passion that's
surrounding me
When I hear you say
I love you
Lay your hands on me
Tell me how you feel
Still takes my breath away
We lie here honestly
Whisper once again
As you lay your hands on me
Lay your hands on me
song performed by by Lisa Stansfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All In My Hands I Hold
All in my hands I hold
Money, silver, Jewell, and gold
All those things that man can love
I still have more though some I sold
All in my hands I hold
Brackets and jackets to drive all the cold
To keep me warm and act like a stove
That when you talk all I do is to nod
All in my hands I hold
All great names in the world I'm called
Angels can know who I am from above
And tell my deeds to the might lord
All in my hands I hold
Stories I made but some I was told
Tales still fly in my head like a dove
And some still hang in my brain they're stored
All in my hands I hold
Everything in the world to you I showed
All have
But still I'm bored.
poem by Walani Ndhlovu
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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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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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Power Of Silence
In silence the flower buds gently bloom,
In silence they waft their sweet perfume.
In silence grows the blades of grass,
In silence I pen down my verse.
Speech is silver, silence gold,
Good deeds silently performed,
Is more eloquent than words!
In silence lovers cuddle and sleep,
True love communicates through
oceans deep!
Look at the mountains towering so high,
Clouds kiss their tops and silently
float by!
In silence the monks move their prayer
beads,
In silence they perform their charitable deeds.
In silence the sun rises and shine,
In silence the moon beams softly smiles.
In silence my God I invoke,
In silence rise my incense smoke.
In silence my inner-self unfolds,
In silent prayer my hands I fold.
In silence, with Him I communicate,
In silence I surrender to my fate.
In silence I beg Him to make me whole,
In silence to Him I surrender my soul!
In our noise polluted world, silence is
difficult to find,
But I know, one day, this Silence shall be
mine!
My World
this is my world
walks in the morning
making me think
steps on the rocks
and mud and under the rain
shiver and quiver
and sighs and then
sunshine on my face
soft hands
on my chest
noontime is harsh
inside this cell
of the musts and oughts
and this and that
piles of papers
more readings to make
confusions and even
delusions
breathe and death
on installments
in the office and
this world of work
then sunset
orange and fading colors
remembering my youth
and combing my white hair
and touching her hand
reminiscing some promises and vows
we sit on a background of darkness
on a chair just the two of us
on a table our old hands rest
recalling the poems
we once wrote
then you turn off
the light
your head rests on my chest
my hand carressing your hair
we are so close
that when i sleep
i hear you hum
a lovesong
as you too close your eyes
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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Shiny Happy People
Shiny happy people laughing
Meet me in the crowd
People people
Throw your love around
Love me love me
Take it into town
Happy happy
Put it in the ground
Where the flowers grow
Gold and silver shine
Shiny happy people holding hands
Shiny happy people laughing
Everyone around love them, love them
Put it in your hands
Take it take it
Theres no time to cry
Happy happy
Put it in your heart
Where tomorrow shines
Gold and silver shine
Shiny happy people holding hands
Shiny happy people laughing
song performed by by REM
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Chicanery
He took her into his hands
Pressed close to his chest
Caressed her little head
With his firm fingers
She looked at him fondly
Shrunk further into his hands
And rubbed them with its beak
Must be her way of kissing
She thought, “I’m lucky
His looks are so kind
His touch so loving
His is so caring
Isn’t it so fascinating?
A friendship between
A chicken and a human;
The superior being
Still holding her tight
The man walked straight
Into his kitchen
poem by Sathya Narayana
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It Starts With A Kiss
It starts with a kiss,
That brings the world down,
A kiss,
That makes my body give in,
It starts with a kiss,
And your hands,
Slowly moving down my back,
And lifting me up to put my legs around you,
It starts with a kiss,
Our lips will do what they do,
My lips will part,
When yours do,
It starts with a kiss,
With my hands through your hair,
And with your hands on my waist,
Man this world seems to quake,
It starts with a kiss,
Man this is so fair,
Your lips feel so good,
On mine that just sit their,
It starts with a kiss,
That makes the whole room stop,
They see sparks fly,
And the room glow in a light so pure,
It starts with a kiss,
But when your lips leave mine,
My neck feels their company,
Then my body gives into you,
It starts with a kiss,
Your lips seem to know what to do,
Cause they are moving up and down my neck,
Once that ends they find my lips again,
It starts with a kiss,
And my body sub comes to you,
And once again,
The Kiss Is Where It All Begins! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
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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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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The vision of your sleeping face
i keep remembering
the strands of your hair
silently breathing
each time i touch them
the rise and fall of your chest
is like the blood
that flows through my veins
and my eyes would wander
from your face
then stop at your hands
gently i touch them
warm and soft
the feeling i cannot erase
raising one gently to my lips
and kiss
even when i hold nothingness
i envision touching
your sweet sleeping face
brushing the hair out of your face
and placing a gentle kiss on your forehead
i remember walking away
and closing the door
as i whispered
“goodbye”.
poem by Marie Cris Ponsaran
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Standing on The Beach
Standing On The Beach
We are standing on the beach
Watching the sunset slowly go down
With this slow blowing breeze
and waves rolling across our feet
With you standing so ever close
You in front and me just behind
With our hands so ever inter twined
With your hair blowing in my face
It smelling so ever saccharine
I loosen one hand reach up
And pull your hair aside
Then I lean my head so ever slightly
Towards your sweet smell neck
Then I begin to lightly kiss it
from top to bottom
I can notice the chill bumps
Across your exposed skin
You moan so ever slightly
As to give your approval
You softly curse my head
As to want me to continue
This so ever lightly kissing of the neck
poem by Scott Austin
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