Best Fingerprints Poems
Can you remember that day
You felt the future in the wind
Thinking “Once upon a time”
It was only a dream back then
Girl, before I knew your name
And you hadn’t seen my face
I longed to be in your mornings
Touching you..amazing grace
Whispers from your heart
Gently echo in my ear
Caressing your whole world
Love drives away all fear
Secrets that are yet untold
Passions from deep inside
Fingerprints from up above
Poetic wonder.. make me high
They say patience is a virtue
Etiquette to get from there to this
Keep waiting, yes I’m chasing
That perfect ever after kiss
The night you’ll linger at my lips
Tease me with your kind smile
Golden locks and curves of bliss
Let’s take it slow, l’ll stay awhile
Whispers from your heart
Gently echo in my ear
Caressing your whole world
Love drives away all fear
Secrets that are yet untold
Passions from deep inside
Fingerprints from up above
Poetic wonder.. make me high
Cause It’s not too far to see
Curl around me, I’ll do it right
Feel that soft and tender touch
Yeah, from evening until the light
Oh, the silhouette of your beauty
Thoughts are dancing in my mind
Raindrop’s beat it’s so captivating
Romantic treasures to seek & find
Those whispers from your heart
Gently echo in my ear
Caressing your whole world
Love drives away all fear
Secrets.. that are yet untold
Passions.. from deep inside
Fingerprints.. from up above
Poetic wonder.. make me high
I’ve never been this high
Just being you.. you make me high!
I’ve never been this high
~Lyric Man
Note: Inspired scribbles echo poetic wonder
curving lines, that would
seem gritty, glide around as
ice skating beauties.
Our fingerprints leaves our identity
On walls, doorknobs, books, all around
Each touch an impossible escape
Challenging me to face each reality
Compassion and kindness be abound
As good heartprints, my great break
Thus, they can never be use as "mask"
To disguise my fingerprints' touch
To a daughter, friend or neighbor
Hence, when someone there dares to ask
Even obviate to commit a prejudge
Real love heartprints - my labor
Our fingerprints leaves our identity
Thus, they can never be use as mask
by
olive eloisa
2:00 AM
04/07/2014
CONTEST: ANY POEM #22
SPONSOR: POET DESTROYER A
7TH PLACE
I have made these fingerprints just for you;
So when I'm grown and gone,
You'll have my fingerprints of your own.
Please cherish my fingerprints,
Love them like you love me.
When you have my fingerprints together we'll be.
When I'm gone and out of this sinful world;
You can pull my fingerprints out,
And say I will always love you without a doubt.
Outside the Pyramid I saw a hologram;
very certain it wasn't a man-made program.
The hologram displayed ghostly images
similar to the ones in Thoth's pages.
Lo and behold!
hieroglyphs of gold!
They were brilliant,
even in the night!
The hologram seemed to have a soul,
igniting the hieroglyphs on pillars so tall.
Messages from beyond,
seemed to scream on our land.
The conspirators of time seemed to awaken
us from the sleep we were forsaken....
Date: 11/04/2016
THE FINGERPRINTS ON THE PARK BENCH
WET PAINT
Perhaps if it had read ……SLOWLY DRYING PAINT
Who knows……WHY
So many must test
the veracity of the obvious.
Question the tone of the voice,
the size of the “angry” letters,
offering a cautious advisory.
We flee the “crime scene”
having left DNA and fingerprint evidence
of our “Thomas like” doubt,
curling our fingers
into a “safe house” fist
of self-conscious denial.
We return, as it is said,
to the scene of the “crime”.
Apologetically touch
the fading green paint
of a lonely park bench.
© John G. Lawless
2/23/2017
I've built with sand.
I've made a life without a proper plan,
and you kicked before I hardened it.
How do I supply demand?
A ship unmanned.
This is the moment that I sank within.
It's when my life became your operand.
Your addition for a firing pin.
I caught my hand.
It was inching towards a perfect plan,
and everything I touched became broken,
for it wasn't my command.
You've played harvest,
in which my heart became the olive pit,
your unwanted seed, without great promise,
a flaw in the shell that houses it.
All of my emptiness,
began to cauterize my synapses,
while making room with lack of militance,
a jail for dreams in piled ashes.
But I exist.
It bled my soul out but I've made your list,
and I'm the victim of your ignorance,
the example for a catalyst.
I'm not to guess.
I've taken strides to curb incompetence,
and with this fire, I can't stop to test,
my life for all your fingerprints.
Looking at a map and trying figure out the right route through Saigon streets. Foreign maps are hard enough to figure out. A local denizen takes pity on my plight. He tries in broken English to explain how to navigate District 1 and find the brewpub. He doesn’t lose his cool at my opaque facial expressions. He grabs a brown paper bag and begins drawing a map. He has streets and rudimentary drawings of significant landmarks. He uses arrows to show the proper path. He also highlights a few worthwhile sites. The map proved to be a heaven send. Everything was right where it was supposed to be. And through Siracha fingerprints and fish oil stains; it guided me through District 1 for several days.
Ho Chi Minh aside
the Siracha fingerprints
served as a beacon
Criminals on a diet of processed foods leave the clearest fingerprints.
This is due to the processed foods high sodium contents.
Fingerprints make us all definely unique
These swirly skin lines tell our personal story
Every interaction, even a glance it could be
Leaves a fingerprint on all of us invisibly
So let's leave in others, what we want to see
The future is in our hands, at our fingertips actually.
Bite Size Poem No 22' Contest Info
The gentle kiss of silence
Falling softly against the cool
Earth where hues of hope - in
Light so graceful, embrace
The rich, warm imagination
Stirring up dreams, welcoming
Joy to rise from the ashes of
Yesterday’s pain, still grieving
For the moments when a smile
Erased the doubt, the despair
Promised the heart to listen
To the still, small voice of snowflakes
Tenderly painting each mountain
Each thought – in wonders too
Amazing to ever sacrifice
As nature’s laughter, dancing
With the moon, the stars
The faith that abides in the
Peaceful splendor of an eternity
Where there is more elation
In the silence of a snowfall, dipping
The world in clean, cool flurries
Than in the whispers surviving
Where man’s hand has etched
His expectations, his dreams
His endless needs – into the most
Ordinary moments, taking
Even the silent prayer and leaving
Fingerprints in the rush of crisp air
2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 23 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Mark Toney
December 15, 2022
Soul Fingerprints
By Mark Stucky
From the midst of multitudes,
elusive, unique fingerprints
identify individuals
as owners of their surface smudges.
Beyond their barely discernable
two-dimensions on smooth surfaces,
memories of casual causal touches,
ethereal fingerprints possess power
to unlock phones storing private secrets
and to solve whodunit murder mysteries.
God’s mysterious, stealthy fingerprints
invisibly mark creation and our lives,
at the core, below the surface.
No ridged whorls outwardly appear,
but those uniquely hidden codes
identify their covert Owner.
Distinguishing fingerprints
requires crime labs no longer.
My fingerprint unlocks my phone.
God’s fingerprint unlocks my heart.
(First published as “Fingerprints” in Agape Review, 6 April 2023. See also my poems "The Invention of Love" and "Gloria in Eggshellsis.")
(Photo by ar130405 on Pixabay.com.)
Fingerprints, my child.
Artwork,everywhere, so mild.
Dreams of days lost, wild.
3/18/2021
~2~
Rhymed Senryu
Dabbed on the cortex, the whorls radiate,
swirl their trajectory ‘round and ‘round,
pressing the matter ‘till synapses spit,
the messages stammer in running aground,
teleprompt thoughts, the lost and found.
Tracings of despotic imprints of hate,
spidering sly with malevolent spread,
pricking the conscience with rapier tips,
‘till the fascist facsimiles buzz in the head,
engraved black and white, living and dead.
Encephalograph hieroglyphs consciously cry,
blindingly fast with a vengeful agenda,
the bars of the gaols and the barbs in the wire,
imposed on the faces of freedom’s surrender,
haunted and gaunt, stripped of defender.
Democracy gored in the jaws of the jackals,
mercy in masticate, oppression writ tall,
dictatorship figureheads, rancid and crazy,
fingerprint guilt taps the primal nerve crawl,
and we feel the disgust, but do nothing at all.
Do you remember ever holding your deeds.? Paper
Links to real estate freehold' an epitome; one seed.'
Of human independance.? Be that what it may be? In
A bundle of actions' often tersely displayed dotted
Lines on draughtsmans paper-like a greaseproof affair'
Pages upon pages quite a bundle i declare.' Swirls of
Trees there depicted solid lines for the boundries. Dotted
For water or gas? Pastel shaded sections everything
That you had' shown by the inch and draughted with care
On your 'title in freehold' all was done for you there'
And then in the noughties.!! Everything changed? when
You recieved your entitlements (nothing was the same)
One sheet came out of a printer with no history there .?
No notes in 'the margins' cause they neither were as spare!
Just your name' and brief details, the sum of the sale this they'd made!
All so bland and impersonal' my thoughts were assailed.'
I complained to the lawyer..Who informed me they're real!
Yet i saw anyone could get a copy.' I did not like the feel; of this deal.!
I requested the familiar ones!! She said they are now gone.'
And no longer legal.? My thoughts were whats going on??
Its like the worth is devalued!! in a communist way??
Oh no I was informed all is..As it was! And all's still au' faire
Then there were cases a few years along of deeds being
Downloaded to take mortgages upon.? The freeholder
Not knowing' till the imposters default.' Then the baliffs
Came calling to posses' what was bought.? Causing
Heartache and trauma un-needed legal re course.' All this
Should be telling us whats occuring with legality whole'
I now see I've been robbed lied to and cheated in short
The real deeds..The were stole.) There must be many of
You out there with just such a case? The redress would
Be worth chasing.' Indeed to stop the erase' of a pillar
Of freedom that maybe even Russia has re-built? not to mention
Re imbursements make them pay to the hilt.' There may
Be those on the street' who fell foul of this all?? Their
Only fault being too trusting' in the failing city halls!