Best Finger Poems
The difference in saying you,
a great big unseen pointed finger, or we.
I didn’t know. Some figurines
wave while others scrutinize with wizened eyes.
The analytic panics, hairs raised by static.
The simple leans in to catch butterflies. One is cynical.
The other sensuous. One slaps your hand away.
One squeezes it. Personality
like the word itself broken in pieces, a flotilla.
In the storm the words like jigsaw waves.
In placidity, the sun’s too hot or doldrum’s ebb and flow.
We will make it!
Still, even in this exchange, coarse sand,
a castle with a moat. Your motives sought - there I go again
“Y O U R…”
Sisterly size-up. Am I trying to win? I didn’t know
we were preparing to arm wrestle. I’m unshaped,
neither the flat piece of a puzzle or linked.
The dreamy sky from the beach. Salt in the air,
eyes on the horizon, lap of the waves —
the same lift I feel when swinging high and higher.
The excitement of adventure, no one’s judging
my every word. I’m breathless…it’s breathtaking
when my feet float above the ground.
There I’m in the arms of love. There I point
and God answers with his digit reaching out, touching mine.
I am reborn by the finger of God.
We will make it!
12/19/2020
Stand tall even when the stars fall
In every dream there is a lock the key berried
in reality keep digging keep digging don't '
stop keep climbing keep climbing to the top
and hope you never drop.
If you do don't you ever stop.
If the ticking makes you nervous throw away the clock.
If the shoes don't fit throw away the socks
happiness is a shoe compromise to make it fit
when you MAKE IT FIT enjoy every bit of it.
Some say life is good some say life is ****!
I say you get what you make out of it .
Weather the storm.
Stay calm.
Wipe the sweat off of your palms.
Patiently defuse your bombs and
hope to find bliss in futures arms.
Shaking.
Breaking.
Bare the undertaking.
There is a new day in the making.
Drunken pen.
Drunken poet.
How drunk can I be?
When life influenced sober men to be more drunk than me.
Though my pen drunk it vomits the sober things in me.
Breath even when there's no air
look for the good in the bad the glad in the
sad make them question why your not mad
many things come many things go many things are
dim but many things glow appreciate what you have
and go with the flow.
She absolutely loved it whenever I would playfully call unto her, 'Boo Boo...
Twas so very adorable within her pink cotton dress, as white canvas tennis shoes
Ever this bright her dreamful eyes; a favourite attire and us being children would giggle ?
Beautiful, the expressions upon Angelica's face when concentrating a bit too hard; pouting
Velvet lips glistening when suddenly as ofttimes precious kitty Mercy would hop atop mingling
Colours only to find his whiskers once more painted in blue; tossing these tiny cups aside; hearts
Of a new song ? Pulling time's notes from my shirt pocket; ocean tides poetic, emerald skies....
Love, while the years passed by; carousel kisses, she read then wept a tear to taste rainbow hues, beloved.
Classify myself as one of the great of thinkers
But sometimes been known to come up with a clinker
Try my damn best
Thought I'd passed the test
But people on the street keep giving me the finger
A finger that helped me to walk,
They are my parents, light in dark,
They are shadow in my summer
And blanket in my winter,
When Spring lost it's length,
I feel thousands of finger around me
And I get strength.
A finger having nail polished with red
She is my heart, dream of my bed,
Flavour of my breakfast,
And vitamin of my bread.
When vitamin lost it's strength
I feel thousands of finger around me
And I get a breadth.
A finger very small and soft,
A velvet light coupled with my thought,
They are golden rays of morning,
And silver beams of my night,
When evening will loose it's light,
I will definitely feel
thousands of finger around me,
And get a flight.
The candles are extinguished today and the crucifix covered in black
for the One whos life was once bludgeoned with ignorance and greed
As He readied for heaven, he took each heavy Pontus whack
for sake of a world that could not accept nor believe, His Holy Creed
Some repented while others shouted profanities and ignored His tears
as He carried the Cross towards His final resting place, He slowly wept
the sky, grueling dark unbending, did not shed the rain nor smear
while His laced up sandals walked the sand without God's intercept
"But If I, With The Finger Of God," He once implied before he died
but this was not to be, for the Son of God belonged to man's transfix
He walked through throngs and herds as he closed the great divide
they watched, as clustered Halos grew around His bloodied Crucifix
But If I, With The Finger Of God could wipe away His pain
be more then just a writer recalling His death with ink and quill
The world would be changed as I know it, and He would Reign
Yes He is the One who died but also, the One they could not kill.
Finger of God
I have never liked to be pointed at or picked out of a crowd
especially when I have known I have done something bad
but the thought of having Father God’s finger selecting
me among the millions has at times made my heart so very glad.
To be singled out from millions more talented
and to know that me, He has indeed called
to do a special work for Him or
that He would permit me to minister for Him at all.
Oh, to be chosen by the Lord
what a true honor this really is
and I’ve gladly left home and land in answer to His voice
for I surely would not have wanted this calling to miss.
Father God’s finger Lord gladly I’d like
to have it now pointing at me
because of the power of your Holy Ghost
abiding within He has given me the victory.
And now, not just Your finger Lord
but Your whole hand I’ll gladly take
for I desire to walk worthy of Your calling
and if corrections are due then, certain changes I will gladly make.
Because my Father
Your blessed face is what I do seek,
not only on Sundays will I make an appearance before Your throne
but also every day of the week.
Written by: Marilyn S. Jennings
1994
He stepped on my finger,
So I bit off his toe.
He screamed and threw fits
And told everyone I know.
He tripped on my knee,
So I gave him a welt
He was shocked beyond shock
That I used a big belt
He hushed me but once
For the repercussions were not pretty
We married one night
In the bright town of New York City
He knows what he’s got
For I have hid nothing from him
He rarely touches me,
Knowing I will not take it as any kind of a whim
He stays in his place,
On his side of the bed,
He barely breathes sometime,
Full knowing my stead
He once raised his hand
As if to give me a slap
But then he remembered
And pretended to clap
The bent finger curse…
So I used to visit this hot little chick,
With a momma nasty just a bit,
She shook her crooked finger bent,
Says “I’m the one who pays the rent,”
And banned I was indeed,
But passions flowed, and love the more,
A sneaking through her frontish door,
Just a man in need,
Like all the other weeds,
For sure,
This day the old girl coffee made,
she lectured me, and venom sprayed,
“You are never to darken my door,
You’ll see Trish, no never more,
Begone with utmost speed,”
Indeed!
So I said I’ll take your Trish away,
To live with me, perhaps she’ll stay,
The splash of coffee in me face,
It needed sugar, just a trace,
So I said “thank you darling” too,
Departing weed…
Don Johnson
true story
counting one to
ten this time thumbs
included but no matter
that she served them on
a silver platter i wanted none
standing on
wooden floor
boards i asked
her to sit and lift
her feet for me as
she did she being
Diosa for sure having
had two soles which i licked
from heel to toe each s l o w l y
sensitively feeling every bend and curve
then a moment
a moment of pause
each toe defining itself
like fingerprints individually
each toe telling its special need
each special care
for this little piggy is
going to market and will
be moaning wee wee wee
taking her all the way home
What are these lines? that are drawn on my palm
what significance do they carry ?
why are there contours on my fingers
and why do they vary ?
I hear people call them finger prints,
and heard them say they are different for all .
They signify my uniqueness and all that I am made of.
But for me these are the love lines of God ,
which He inscripted on my palm .
Reminding me of my uniqueness ,
of His concern and His love.
It conveys me of how wonderfully,
I am made and that there is no one else like me ,
who in my Father's eyes is the same .
These fingerprints are my love letter that I read
every day ,reminding me of a love story that always will remain .
The grandfather clock just struck twelve, that magic hour of night,
And there he sits drumming our fingers musing about something to write!
He's been biting our nails and running our fingers through his hair,
Scratching his head, searching for witty or apt verse to prepare!
Ah! Now he's flexing our digits and I detect in his eyes a gleam.
We think he's collecting his thoughts to concoct a masterful scheme.
Something comparable to works by Whitman or Riley, no doubt.
These fingers should get some credit, no matter how it turns out!
What will it be? A poem about religion, politics or the billowing seas,
Little children, old soldiers, love gone sour or scarlet hued trees?
Perhaps a few stanzas about cowboy lore - only the Lord can tell!
Our fingers just fly over the keyboard - that old coot types pretty well!
We're getting numb and need rest but he provides no reprieve.
He's typing at least seventy-eight words per minute, I do believe!
But never fear, we'll manage to keep ahead of his versatile mind,
And keep pounding away as thoughts from his prolific skull unwind!
Well, he has completed what he considers a masterpiece at last.
We're petered out and ready to curl up - we have typed so fast!
But all of us from our thumbs to our pinkies have had a blast!
We pray he never gets writer's cramp - that would leave us aghast!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
1st Place in Linda-Marie's "Finger Frenzy" Contest - June 2010
When you kiss me
I get high like I could
touch the sky.
When you touch me
I get them butterflies.
Something about you
really turns me on.
Might be your looks,
or the way that you
talk...
But one thing's for sure,
I can't get enough of you.
I can see myself spending
the rest of my life with you.
You're driving me crazy,
I'm in need of you daily.
I'm hoping that you feel
the same, so we can make
things official between us.
Put a ring on your finger,
and become husband &
wife.
Then live our lives
in paradise.
Written by: Poet Shi
beneath the ground
life in darkness slumbers
and snowflakes fall
vernal birth
amid death’s icy grip
the sun returns
and lady’s finger
gently stirring tender tip
of melting heart
for love to grow
when we know it
we sow the seed
nurture love and watch it feed
now in my heart
set apart by
the dart and bow
as shot by love in Cupid’s arrow
I been trying to pen this verse for days but the words could not come out
My tears have been welled up inside me and my arms were twisted behind me
my flesh clinged firmly to my thin bones while drones flew fearlessly around
I can still hear their deceptive voices talking above me as they were getting ready to apprehend me
They circled around me and cast a rusty chains upon my flesh and shoved me into a broken carriage and parade me up and down the town until we ended up in Freetown
I still did not understand what was going on until I stood at an open window
and spoke to the woman who stared at me with a subtle frown.
I went to retrieve my towed truck and there he was standing behind the counter in a red T-shirt with bleeding eyes staring at me and immediately I could see wickedness all around
He handed me a bill that was highly impossible for all that had happened
His aggressive eyes crossed my spiritual eyes and the holy spirit began to speak
I was chucked away once more and shoved into a sweltering car without a clue as to what was going on
I was placed in a room with other people that were held up for days
And I could sense malpractice from the bottom bubbling up to the top
The innocent was tucked away into a hole with no way of getting out because they could not pay their way
I listened to everyone's story and it was a pity that this was happening in America in the twenty first century
Many people are suffering and hurting inside while we are gallivant on the outside
The pastor took me back to my towed truck and I was forced to pay what I could not afford
I went outdoors to buy colored paper to post Gods messages
but something sinister was happening on the other side and I was caught up in it
Heaven was on my side I defied all the odds to get the message out until she finally broke the glass window
The next day I could breathe fresh air and the God in heaven finally appeared
the moon moves between the earth and the sun briefly turning day into night
Darkness suddenly faded away and a bright light radiated over the message truck and illuminate it with a powerful light sealing it with the moon and sun energy
And there it was I touched my finger on the golden pen and we are all free to live again.