At five years, what matters fits within one hand—
A beetle, a stone, a fistful of warm, soft sand.
Five fingers close around each thing that's new;
What matters is what a little hand, can hold as true.
At fifteen, what matters is the watching crowd.
To be yourself, but not too different, odd or loud.
The crowd's glances matter, weighing who they see.
Their recognition shapes who you might want to be.
At thirty, what matters gathers into something more.
More keys, more names, more feet across the floor.
Fingers grip the proof of what they've built and own;
What matters is the weight, the way they have grown.
At fifty, what matters turns from having more, to needing less.
From what is treasured, to what's measured in tenderness.
The fingers loosen their grip on what they used to hold.
An open hand held out to greet, outweighs the fist of gold.
At seventy, what matters circles back to five.
The smallest things again, feel the most alive.
Old fingers touch the morning's silver dew—
A reaching hand seeks to feel, to touch, and renew.
Technology has done much good,
but can’t cure the common cold,
it can keep you looking young,
but not from growing old.
'Let your fingers do the walking,'
used to be the plan,
nowadays, it's all thumbs and emojis,
as smart phones dumb down man.
When online, doing a search,
no matter what I type,
the 'engine' always knows best
and 'corrects' my text to the current hype.
Mostly, I'm so tired of being asked,
by AI, 'How did we do?'
when, in the end, I did all the work,
now, how about you?
Flavor of rain, herbal.....clear
like broth lingering on your lips ,
relishing a taste of limey brew--
its vapor beguiles my senses
with undulated abandon...
For a moment time freezes
in trembled trance, the monsoon rivering
as your kiss seeps inside the bones,
and in gradual mount of liquid thrill
the concave grip kneading
into an embrace within
one evening's quiver rescues me,
Reminding me how surrender
can be subtle like the slow movement
from piety to rawness of gust,
gathering all that's aflame
and gentle... and I will wrap
your fingers around my soul
through hidden blue of eyes ,
that cleavage of spine
dressed in lavish caresses,
that nothing else will fulfill me
...but the nectar of our misted dew.
Left little finger — mocks old strident foes.
Left ring finger — wears pale imprint after love ups and goes.
Left middle — taps out the years between hugs.
Left index finger — points up high to the heavens above.
Left thumb — presses today's stamp on yesterday's late mail.
Right thumb — flips through faded pages of old diaries.
Right index finger — traces funny faces on misted window panes.
Right middle finger — catches tears way before they fall.
Right ring finger — encircles promises with gold bands of hope.
Right little finger — wiggles forlornly until another pinky wiggles back.
You liar, cheat, a hollow shell,
A walking storm, a private hell.
Your words are knives, your smile’s a mask,
You fail at love, at every task.
You’re selfish, cruel, a parasite,
A shadow feeding off the night.
I curse your name, I spit, I sneer,
The world’s much worse with you still here.
But wait this rage, this bitter plea,
The mirror cracks… oh , it’s me
With fingers crosed, we both come close
Calling positive vibrations!
Each bud will bloom into a rose
With fingers crossed we both come close.
Such great lovers, love won't lose
Destined couples...I envision
With fingers crossed, we both come close
Calling positive vibrations!
Is there a thrill in her fingers
in their touch, an enchanted spark
Is it imagination
or do they animate the dark...
One night 'pon removing her glove
streaks of lightning burst forth above
With Fingers crossed I sail alone
To find what now awaits for me
No net is there in the unknown
If failure comes, I will not be
To find what now awaits for me
I go where I've not gone before
If failure comes, I will not be
If I cannot in life endure
I go where I've not gone before
To find a place where I can build
If I cannot in life endure
I hope at least to have a shield
To find a place where I can build
Something that stands both time and test
I hope at least to have a shield
To finish now life's silent quest
Something that stands both time and test
No net is there in the unknown
To finish now life's silent quest
With fingers crossed I sail alone
Wrote April 30 by Charles Reese for the This or That poetry contest
He sits, with fingers crossed, at dance floor's edge
as ever, he did this first Friday night
a boy too young to drink, too scared to pledge;
swirling skirts, exposed stocking tops, excite.
He’d seen it all before, mail-order books.
but never like this, the rhythm, beat, the heat
would she regard his suit of Brothers, Brooks?
The one his mother said that looked so neat.
He’d stolen perfume, left it on her porch.
She knew and would acknowledge with a glance;
which then, it would ignite the fiery torch
and so together they would dance, and dance.
He sits, with fingers crossed, at dance floor's edge
a boy who never danced, for fear the pledge.
an aching
silence abides
young love
b
e
c
k o n
i n g b a c k
once tenderness starved,
t
u
s s l e s t o
s
s
e
d
into
love’s brutal
apex
warping sting,
in bated
breath’s requited ring,
wished upon the same star
in
each other’s resolves
Her world has become suspiciously small,
mind walls are blocking margins of escape,
soon she’ll be discharged to fair Pania,*
and there perhaps elegant folderal
with a handsome man in landscape dreamscape
of enchantment beneath Urania,**
(never again to know infernal sins).
Is she trapped in the web of Aranea?***
Perhaps; perhaps not, but with hope agape,
and fingers crossed, she plunges deeper in-
to pools of mania!
* Greek, derived from papias, meaning "crown" or "guard of the Imperial Palace".
**goddess of love; counterpart of Greek Aphrodite
***an orb-weaving spider
With fingers crossed,
I embarked upon life's contests.
With fingers crossed,
I took the tests.
With fingers crossed,
I did my best.
With fingers crossed,
I truly confessed.
With fingers crossed,
Sometimes I protested.
With fingers crossed,
I always expect nothing less.
With fingers crossed,
I made an amazing request.
Without God's touch.
I am a mess.
With or without my fingers crossed,
I always know that I am blessed.
Hands behind my back
my fate is on the line cast
into the abyss
a hit or miss bite for me
on the fly, I sent to see.
Chance and choice entwined
a fragile bridge over doubt
serendipity
in cold empathy with fate
pressed tense, taut, fingers hard.
Criss-crossed with hope's twine,
I bargain with the unseen
with fate's mouth agape
waiting to see the outcome
of the Chinese finger cuffs.
Orange ball of fire
slips down sky
Igniting navy blue night
Like a kid sliding down
The sliding board
In slow motion
Stars seem to peek
As if watching me
Casting dreams upon
Silvery steam of their light
Watch them rinse repeat
Wishing upon stars bring peace
Wind seems to hold
Whims hopes goals
Like a kite against clouds
I feel solar energy warm
Yet cool like black breeze
Yesterday’s yellow bellied laugh
Purple psychosomatics of past
Optimistic views of one madd
Despite the pessimism in that
Embracing even chasing rainbows
Could shooting stars be my destiny
Transforming souls of gold
Fading into heaven’s horizon
As a story to be retold rewritten
Reinventing universe of light
So much more than mankind
With fingers crossed seeking to find
With fingers crossed
A glance, a smile, a dream I chase,
I walk these paths hoping to run into you.
How can one thought stay glued to my mind,
like searching for a needle in a field of hay?
I memorize your schedule in my head,
trying to find one minute that could change everything.
What I have been through, only you can fix.
I wait with fingers crossed, hoping you see me.
I would go to any length just for a look,
like two train tracks that run side by side,
longing to touch but never meeting.
Your voice pulls me closer every day.
I fall asleep with you still in my thoughts,
hoping that one day we can finally be real.
So I lay here with my fingers crossed,
praying you will see me, touch me, and stay,
until my love for you is finally enough.
Date [25 April 2026]
Title [With fingers crossed]
Sponsor [Edward Ibeh]
Sub Categories
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