Best Handprints Poems

One day, you'll be dead to me

My life is a hazard to everyone
And myself

My desperate detestation for you
The way you are
What you do
How you breath

My...

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As I sit and look out my window
I dream of days gone past;
My memory drifts to happy times
Of tiny handprints on the glass.

I can still...

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Remembering when
Perched high above on rocky crags
Cliffs weathered by times handprints
I saw far and wide to distant shores
Tendrils of desire radiating outwards

Riding the briny mist...

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Poet Identity

In conversations,
In biographies,
In resumes…all poets are writers,
    but not all writers are poets.
On a careful look into the mirror, when not...

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The Ancient Odyssey of clubs to bombs
from red ochre handprints on cave walls
   to the destroyer of worlds
is a long-traveled road with the...

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Commodore Cornelius Vanderbilt
raised you as a monument 
to his empire, and why shouldn’t he.
From humble beginnings his art was 
monopoly. He understood the art in...

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Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Death is but an empty grave,
And the soul dies in that slumber,
Which will rot its bones away.

Death is merely but...

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Sticky handprints on my door
Muddy truck tracks across my floor
Laundry piling up galore
Imperfect photos for decor
These are the things a mom adores

Little feet headed towards...

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We start out with our tiny feet inked,                               to show our...

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Handprints cold,
Heart feels blank,
From young to old,
Family I thank.
As beauty falls,
Short to one,
The baby crawls,
Children have fun.
Wisdom speaks,
Feedbacks plotted,
Saving antiques,
Problems knotted.
Shielding length,
As wrinkles flare,
God given...

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Last Night

There is a stillness in the house
While I wait, as quiet as a mouse

I soak it up, this quiet respite
For very soon, I'll be...

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If, as hippy folklore claims, it never rains in California,
Then the watermark is never washed out of the phoney cheque,
And when you’re dead and gone...

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Intricately designed castles 
With millions of tiny pebbles 
Sparkling golden sands of beaches
Stretching at the edge of churning seas
Become erased without a trace
When high tide...

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The crease in the bedspread, the fold in our pillows,
the bends in the doormat’s bristles, the off-angle shoe by the stairs.

The lip stain around a...

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PART I.

I.
each night...
I think about the moment when we'll vanish 
on the doormat of an empty house
because I know some day they will come -...

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