Our Truths
i
they were first
the baby's hands opening
slowly as fingers
ii
God has a fan that
He spreads open
to display
iii
then he closes it
all fingers as one folded
fan
iv
it is us
all truths kept back
to the Hands of God
so lovingly kept
back to its
proper place
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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You in your closed bleeding hands
The palm that closes
Cannot hold anything
Just like this narrow mind
Unable to grapple with
What is newly given
I see your fingers are closed
I tried to tickle you so they may open
I tried to tell you something puzzling
You closed your fingers some more
What is it that you are hiding there?
It is causing you so much pain
Your hands bleed, please open them
Is it the nail? Is it a broken glass?
You are not nodding still
Is it something so important?
That even with death you still refuse?
You are not nodding still
You shake your head, you keep mum
And numb to what I am asking
So be it, close your fingers
Hide the lines in your palms
Let your hands bleed some more
We shall wait what happens next
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Frenzied Fingers Run Amuck
When I get you into my arms
I can't control the things that I do.
Fingers grab the hair on your head.
Fingers caress the small of your back.
Fingers travel down your spine
and back up again.
Fingers reach to all corners of your being,
quietly unnoticed at first,
but more frenzied with passing time.
Wild fingers travel your soul
with frenzied action that is hard to stop.
Uncontrollable fingers run wild
until you beg them to stop.
But even then, there's no counting on it.
These fingers like to run wild.
Whenever I place my fingers on you,
frenzied fingers run amuck.
In a coffin
Hands folded over the chest
she lies forever stretched out
as if death out of the blue holds her calm
and nothing will wake her up,
from the last sleep folding coldly round her
and strangely changed from princess to rotting dirt.
Hands folded over the chest
she lies forever stretched out.
with no fingers clenching hot around mine
and drawing me nearer,
no arms embracing me to her body
and I am totally alone
and stare at hands folded over her chest.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Twenty-five Fingers
(mccartney-macmanus)
Twenty five fingers baby
I love your nails I love your touch
I love to touch you baby
It never fails to kill me
Some say gimme five
But Ill give you ten
You could make it twenty
But youre holding out again
Think it over think it over baby
Well think it over think it over baby
I will always love you
That cant be denied
Love you up until the day
That heaven knows Ive tried
For the time being I will tell you this
Id love to love you love to love you
But theres something missing
Baby listen unconditionally
Put your hand in my hand and surrender to me
Think it over think it over baby
Well think it over think it over baby
Twenty five fingers feel so divine
Twenty five fingers wish you were mine
Wish you were mine
Well so our hands met and twenty fingers entwined
I couldnt help I couldnt help but see
She didnt quite believe me
She said listen cause theres one little thing
Where did you get that lovely wedding ring
Think it over think it over baby
Well think it over think it over baby
Some things are forbidden
Never meant to be
Well that might be all right for you
But not for you and me
Twenty five fingers feel so divine
Twenty five fingers wish you were mine
Wish you were mine
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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United In Pain
my fingers
are not mine anymore
they are running
out of control
i do not wish
to write some more
to infuriate you
but my hands are
rebels
coming out from
my arms
into their
fingers
writing these
lines
i am detached
severed
from the rest of my
parts
i have no more control
about
destiny in the making
birds of blue
feathers
are coming out
from my mouth
and they are not
coming back
my fingers are
automatons
writing now on
their own
i am not
responsible for your
anger
i am a useless man
and my fingers
are not mine anymore
my C5 chokes a nerve
i am numb
my fingers are at war
against
each other now
thoughts converge
without much meaning
united
in pain.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Mother and her Dead Child
Looking back
it seemed
the child
was not to be
always there,
not through lack
of love or care,
but something
that came to her
in dreams of dread
at night asleep in bed.
She tries to retake
in dreams
the child back,
to pretend
that through
wishful thinking
she can make up
the lack.
Arms fold
into cradle
as once they had
when child lay
in arm's hold,
snuggled
and warm,
alive and moving,
seeking out with
eyes and fingers
her mother's dug.
Rock-abye-baby
no more,
the arms
and hands
redundant,
the last time
she recalls
the dead child
in arms,
rocking
back and forth,
as if this might cure
and bring back
to life,
might stir open
eyes, jog open
lips and mouth
to suck.
Not to be
just the memory,
ill luck.
poem by Terry Collett
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Scavenging For Coal
At the back
of the coal wharf
you and Fay
picked up coal pieces
that fell through
the iron railings
and put them
in an old bag from home
Fay looked
at her blackened fingers
and said
if my daddy sees
these fingers
and finds out
what I've been doing
he'll spank me
for sure
you gazed at her
beside you
and said
you can wash your hands
at my place
she looked around
at the bombsite behind you
the evening sun
slowly going down
behind the railway bridge
and nearby buildings
what if someone sees you
she asked
picking up these pieces?
no one worries about this
all the kids do it
you replied
my daddy says
it is evil to steal
she said
you put a black piece
of coal in the bag
and lifted it
to feel the weight
that's enough
you said
too much
and I won't be able
to carry it
Fay stood up
and looked around
at the darkening sky
you held the bag
in one hand
and scanned
the area around you
let's go
you said
and so you both
walked away
from the coal wharf
into Meadow Row
by the public house
where piano music played
and down towards
the flats
where you lived
and after climbing
the concrete stairs
to your landing
you opened the door
and put the bag
by the indoor
coal bunker
and showed Fay
where to wash her hands
turning on
the cold water tap
you both washed
your hands
with the red
Life Buoy soap
her hands near yours
her wet flesh
touching yours
the black water
running away
and another adventure
and another day.
poem by Terry Collett
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Afternoon Flow Of Linking Thoughts
there you are
pain and its protrusions
creeks to rivers
and tributaries like
fingers of the hands
into thy chest to listen
to the whispers of the
heart the sea and the
ocean to become whole
again to be not noticed
as pain and its protrusions
but wagering waves friends
of the monsoon winds
slaves of the lights of the moon
sailing like ships losing
their shadows to a limitless
horizon into that darkness
sleepy until the next opening
day of the sun where light
in profusion blinds the eyes
the truths that scare us
we should have loved and
believed like gripping hands
of our very best friends.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Sad And Painful Truths.
most truths hurt.
they are not guests.
they stay permanently.
they have needles and threads and fingers.
they sew your lips.
there is blood in your hands.
you cannot complain.
no matter how you shake your brain
to forget
these sad and painful truths stay.
they are bats on the branches of your trees.
aphids on your leaves.
soon these truths kill you.
and then
they all set you free.
gratitude comes at last
before you even say it.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Letting You Go
i like to see you go
like a dove from
the hands of
the happy bride
i like to see you
go like a red balloon
still with a string
from my fingers
i like to see you go
like sunset
slowly dissolving
dissipating
its warm glow
in a dark horizon
by the sea
i like to see you go
with a smile in your face
like my open hand
that waves
goodbye and then
closing slowly
gripping
your presence.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Open
Do not hide in the living room
amidst the familiar and well thumbed
Open the door
Feel the air trace its fingers
along your face and hands
Open your hands
Breathe in
Open your eyes
Breathe out your
mark upon the day
poem by Diana Rosser
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Crash
Back it up, back it up
You got it, you got it
Put your hands up, put your hands up, put your hands up
You got it, you got it
Drive back baby to me, fast in your car
I'm here waiting, crash into me real hard
[2x]
I wander round the room and I'm getting things ready
I picture you driving, just like Mario Andretti
I got the cush, Kettle One, waiting for your engine
Your Grand Prix attention, it's gonna be a party
Don't forget to make a U-turn
I see you left your blinker on
I got it rolled and ready here to burn
Meet me back at home (a-oh, a-oh)
Drive back baby to me, fast in your car
I'm here waiting, crash into me real hard
[2x]
Driving fast in your car
I've got you tracked on my radar, oh
It's just such a trip, how you're still my speed racer
You got me so addicted, just like a free-baser
I want you all over me like L.A.M.B.
So get here A.S.A.P., it's gonna be a party
Don't forget to make a U-turn (don't forget to get here)
I see you left your blinker on (you see, I want to get it on)
I got it rolled and ready here to burn
Meet me back at home (you know you need me so come back)
Drive back baby to me, fast in your car
I'm here waiting, crash into me real hard
[2x]
Now you know you're qualified
You're in the pole position
Put it in first gear, step on the pedal and drive fast
Back it up, back it up
You got it, you got it
Back it up, back it up
You got it, you got it
Put your hands up, put your hands up, put your hands up
You got it, you got it
Put your hands up, put your hands up, put your hands up
You got it, you got it
(I'm ready for you)
Drive back baby to me, fast in your car
(Me and you boo)
I'm here waiting, crash into me real hard
(Don't make me wait too long)
Drive back baby to me, fast in your car
(For me and you boo)
I'm here waiting, crash into me real hard
Come on baby, please hurry up, you know I'm waiting for you
[4x]
song performed by by Gwen Stefani
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When You Finally Find Your Hands Empty
on the day when you find
your hands empty
and you have nothing to
touch or
grab when you feel
nothing
to say when you are more
delighted on the silence
of your solitude
there is no other choice
but to close again
all your fingers like
a baby curling back
to sleep
because now as you
breathe
you have become full again.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Massaging The Queen
My hands anticipate the final moment..
Where from your shoulders
down through upper-arm's
pass your forearms
and onto meeting your hands...
Their length my hands will travel..
In a gentle grip caressing every muscle
while pulling every joint..
Bridging-over to your back
continuing from the top of your bottom
through your exquisite waist with flat palm's
and tender loving fingers..
Slowly moving over lungs searching cautiously
seeking your pleasure..
With eyes close I will become one with your body
and you one in blissful Zen..
My hands will meet your shoulders once again
there they will travel towards each other
until meeting your neck
and rise scrapingly through your hair
until meeting your crown..
I will whisper my adoring passion to your ear
assuring my devotion to your kingdom..
poem by Gengis Capote
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Fingers Of Love
Can you imagine this
An itch to sensitive to scratch
The light that falls through the cracks
An insect to delicate to catch
I hear the endless murmur
Every blade of grass that shivers in the breeze
And the sound that comes to carry me
Across the land and over the sea
And I can't look up
Fingers of love move down
And I can't look back
Fingers of love move down
Colour is its own reward
Colour is its own reward
The chiming of a perfect chord
Let's go jumping overboard
Into waves of joy and clarity
Your hands come out to rescue me
And I'm playing in the shallow water
Laughing while the mad dog sleeps
And I can't look up
Fingers of love move down
And I won't be hit
Fingers of love move everywhere
There is time yet
Fall by the way
From the cradle to the grave
From a palace to the gutter
From beneath the dying waves
To the sun like fingers of love
Through waves of joy and clarity
A fallen angel walked on the sea
And I'm playing in the shallow water
Laughing while the mad dog sleeps
And I can't look up
Fingers of love move down
And I won't be hit
Fingers of love move everywhere
There is time yet
For you to find me
And all I want
Fingers of love move down
song performed by by Crowded House
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When You Wrong A Person
when you wrong a person
and you do not think of any reparation
when you think that you are happier
in your situation
beware
for at the end
the furies come to take their revenge
beware
for the right hour comes
for that foolishness to come back
to your very own body
beware
do not laugh do not be overconfident
no one may come to take back what you have taken
but soon
your hands shall go against your commands
and your fingers shall soon begin their take on you
self-choked
you take your own death
through your own hands,
your tongue shall hang out
your eyes escaping from their sockets
looking at you
with all guilt
take note
it is the self that becomes your own enemy
and it is this self that at the end
takes you
away from yourself.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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If I Could Turn Back The Hand Of Time
How did I ever let you slip away
Never knowing I'd be singing this song some day
And now I'm sinking, sinking to rise no more
Ever since you closed the door
[1] - If I could turn, turn back the hands of time
Then my darlin' you'd still be mine
If I could turn, turn back the hands of time
Then darlin' you, you'd still be mine
Funny, funny how time goes by
And blessings are missed in the wink of an eye
Why oh why oh why should one have to go on suffering
When every day I pray please come back to me
[Repeat 1]
And you had enough love for the both of us
But I, I, I did you wrong, I admit I did
But now I'm facing the rest of my life alone, whoa
[Repeat 1]
I'd never hurt you (If I could turn back)
Never do you wrong (If I could turn back)
And never leave your side (If I could turn back)
If I could turn back the hands
There'd be nothing I wouldn't do for you
(If I could turn back)
Forever honest and true to you
(If I could turn back)
If you accept me back in your heart, I love you
(If I could turn back the hands)
(If I could turn back)
That would be my will
(If I could turn back)
Darlin' I'm begging you to take me by the hands
(If I could turn back the hands)
I'm going down, yes I am
(If I could turn back)
Down on my bended knee, yeah
(If I could turn back)
And I'm gonna be right there until you return to me
(If I could turn back the hands)
(If I could turn back)
If I could just turn back that little clock on the wall
(If I could turn back)
Then I'd come to realize how much I love you
Love you love you love you
(If I could turn back the hands)
song performed by by R. Kelly
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We Had It All
We closed down the Border Cantina
And drank margaritas till dawn
You were my sweet senorita
And I was your handsome Don Jaun.
We danced like there was no tomorrow
We laughed and we lived and we loved
That moment in time that we borrowed
Never did last long enough.
Chorus:
Yeah, we had it all going our way for a little while
We had it all right in the palm of our hands
We had it all going our way for a little while
Oh, how I wish we could go back there again.
We thought we were too young to marry
Slowly we drifted apart
Well baby, I miss you like crazy
Those memories still burn in my heart.
Oh, let's find a way to rekindle
That flame that burned long ago
These days just can't hold a candle
To those sweet nights in old Mexico.
Chorus:
Yeah, we had it all going our way for a little while
We had it all right in the palm of our hands
We had it all going our way for a little while
Oh, how I wish we could go back there again.
Chorus:
Yeah, we had it all going our way for a little while
We had it all right in the palm of our hands
We had it all going our way for a little while
Oh, how I wish we could go back there again.
Yeah, we had it all going our way for a little while
Oh, how I wish we could go back there again.
Oh, how I wish we could go back there again...
song performed by by Vince Gill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Please Be True To Our Mutual Lies
please be true
to these mutual lies
as we lie
and kiss
and roll
and make such a quick love
do not make any moans
or calls
do not not kiss and tell
do not
be too possessive of my
body
my soul
my mind
these hands are strong
and so warm
you know, when these hands hold you tight
you know
these are not just yours
you know
these hands love you too like how these hands love
the rest of you, my all true loves
and them
they may not believe us
true to our lies
protective of ten fingers loving many lovely women
all worthy of my strong loving hands
my hands are made of ten fingers
there is no way that
these hands can be monogamous
you love me so true
and you would not have the folly to tell me that i have not loved
and loved you well enough
we must both be polygamous, and we must tell the world
we are true and we exist.
we lie because the truth is they are nor prepared for what they are too.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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