Handedness Poems | Examples

Nothing Moves But Mind

Outside and elsewhere
existence is a leaf on a deep blue river;
a long night has set it free to bob and tumble
as an upturned mirror caught in the gray rays
of an obscure sun.

I listen to the heartbeat of a giant turtle;
the soundless pulse of a mind roaming away from itself.

At such times, a body of flesh becomes a body of work,
an opus of all that can be held
between a left and right handedness.

Nothing has a name here, all anchors are cut,
the black cat of thought
leaves no pawprint upon the inner eye.

Somewhere, now buried in a silvered dew,
the world at large has shrunk beneath the gravity of its own presence.
On the surface of all seen things faces are bereft of identity.

Home seems far away,
a place where an awakening ghost waits for its own arrival.

All the works of a self-creating oeuvre are naming themselves ‘home’
but ‘home’ knows nothing of any journeys made between
these disinherited regions.

From behind a cloud of nowhere a frameless door swings open;
nothing enters, yet All That Ever Was steps out
to greet it.

The Perfect Kiss

It is the perfect handedness of endless bliss
the cadence, embrace the double-mirroring kiss,
silence is the most notorious happiness parenthesis.

Even when the dual night vigil blew
All the stretched-out empty days reminded you 
Of promises and tragedy that passion drew.
In the perfect kiss, we once knew.

But time has rendered a big part of this 
their brilliance and space are in abruptness.
Death neither waits for happiness nor success.

Our separation passed on in the brief moments mist
Into the sad, fleeting, strange distance eclipse. 
another starnge bliss paused here to gaze at this 
less lonely existence parenthesis.

Balance

A teacher broke his left-handedness,
until the right reluctantly awoke.
His right hand turned
to inner paths.

They tried to rewire him,
he was too right handed now,
but he kept slipping out of their minds

The boy continued taking
unofficial routes.
Teachers gave up on him.

He drew his own mind maps
explored them.

Eventually, by chance,
he found his place
at the center

his two hands joined
to the logic of creative
prayers

Ever-Cheerful - a Tribute

Ever-cheerful and optimistic
An island of sanity midst pandemic's panic
A voice of reason in a sea of shouts
   Dr. Janice Jackson, public schools CEO
   Giving Chicago a leader to crow about

24/7 she's striven to better Chicago's schools
dealing with intransigence, high-handedness
an angry army of Teacher's Union hacks and fools
   She's leaving next month
   Can't say I blame her
   May Dr. Jackson, God forever bless

Trump Tis of Thee

My country, 'tis of thee,
Sweet land of tyranny,
Of thee I sing;
Land where my hackers live,
Land where my loyalty is,
Land where the bankers give
Let Russia ring!

Let Russia swell the breeze,
And ring with Putany
Sweet brother's song;
Let lying tongues awake;
Let American freedoms take;
Let law and justice break,
Let Trump rule ring!

My native country, flee,
To land of autocracy,
Thy name I love;
I love thy arrogance,
Thy sweet high-handedness;
Your subjugating dominance
Of thee I sing.

Allies like Moscow Mitch,
Have America in the ditch,
Let Fox News ring!
Republicanism is a ,
Our government for the rich,
My Lackey's be enriched
Of thee I bling!

Corruption's' God to me,
Author of tweetery,
such sleaze I bring.
Long may my brand be bright,
With dictator's impending night,
The fools have given me the right,
I'm God your King!

My Far Side

You say, I’m too far, 
towards the far side?
It’s a hazard of my left-handedness,
that I see the logic in abstraction.
Worlds lay within worlds
and colors bleed personality;
Oh, it may be distasteful
in the world of mathematics
to give a square five sides;
not in my world, 
it’s a box with the lid open.
Into that box I pour
my imaginings,
things that only I can see
of which, some folks display 
their jealousy;
they accuse me of being backwards,
of not following the rules.
In my world, rules are
shades of grey, 
monotone
monotony,
my imagination
does not obey.
No one tells me that
a cow can’t be purple,
that clouds can’t speak 
or that you can’t draw the 
invisible realms.
Step into my guitar and dance,
it’s playing itself for you.
I’m an original, you see
and I travel in
imagination’s zone.

Cups of Prayers and Curses

I drink everyday cups after cups
Of what you feared to drink.
If blood differs its color from red
To saffron, white or whatever,
I deny to bleed religiously.
From what well a beggar
Draws water for his thirst I know not,
But I understand the poison
Of sins we, you and I, drink everyday;
Spiced with your indifferent high-handedness.
Do not hoist your flag on my history,
For I have stopped walking on tutored prayers.
In spite of the anthem you've baptized me with and
My flat nose and narrow eyes upon which
Your mockery humiliates humanity,
I remain native to my roots.
Someday, a stone will conquer us, the both of us,
When stars will drain their twinkles, with remorse,
On garbage of raped girls, even as chastity becomes
The fault-line along which seismic rebellions
Will tremor and justify my absence
From your churches, mosques and temples.
My demands, notwithstanding your statutes,
Are answerable by your august houses;
Lest posterity wil spill cups of curses
On altars, constitutions and patriotism.

Cubital Tunnel Syndrome

chin lightly nested atop 
loosely peopled interlaced fingers 
supported via multi purpose table 
bent arms displayed elbows cocked
  
(approximately gabled 
at ninety degree angle),
which pose frequently assumed 
when pondering what to write,

an idea spawned when clothed left fingered limb
inadvertently roiled the so called "funny bone"
named because of funny feeling generated 
when Ulnar nerve compression

triggers pseudo shock sensation
coursing one direction or another  
traveling from neck down into hand
constricted in several places along the way

such as beneath collarbone 
or at wrist
most common place for compression
(hands down)

behind inside part of elbow
medical terminology tagged 
"cubital tunnel syndrome."

interestingly enough, this scribe attests
more frequent occurrences along 
liberal democratic side
no matter I claim dominant right handedness

and reckon eyes that human body electric
eel silly not perfectly symmetric
also chiming in that such vulnerability
a very minor design flaw
extant within the amazing 
*****Sapiens anatomy.

First Grade Ferocious

It was the most ferocious time of my life,
I was angry all the time.
Angry at breakfast.
Angry during lunch.
Angry at supper.

I was angry because my teacher had a pact with my mom.
I was to wear a mitt on my left hand for the year at school,
so I could not use that "wrong hand".
In the 50's that's how we "cured" left-handedness.
That was sixty years ago, and I still remember that
ugly gray mitt with the white strings that I could
not take off.
My mother made it, at
Miss Kneefriend's urging.

Miss Kneefriend indeed.
Let me show Miss Kneefriend a knee.
Anger takes away happy.
Anger takes away reason.
Anger takes away everything that makes a kid human.
And I was never a human child in the first place.

I was always ready to kill after first grade.
Because I remember, and I knew myself,
and I liked my left hand, and she was
angry too.

'he Two Cherubims

My form of sonnet modified(Holy Spirit).
Now it entails; An Acrostic form with the rhyme scheme aabbcdeeffcdgg. Enjoy!

         'HE TWO CHERUBIMS
 
'Hewn out of mystery,
Endowed with scary physiognomy.

Tensed with eyes and flappy wings
Winning heart-dexterity-often stings.
Owning the shield of Alpha's eyes

Carressing the depth of omega's might.
Heralding six wings and four qualities.
Eloping from eagle's to veil's obscurities.
Ruling of high handedness of his train.
Under the wave of the creator's reign.
Moistured with veils in which they flies.
Inwardly a darkness,abhorring the creator's sight.
Messangers of peace-that did honour raise.
Seraphims' Juniors-lifter of his praise.
      17:28:08:11:20

Death Grip

Clutched in my hands
with a deathly cold grip 
are a quill dipped in ink
and a parchment with a poem
half written, yet unfinished.

I was writing about 
the heavy-handedness
of the Grim Reaper…
cruel, cold and heartless.

Too soon was taken away
my love from me
leaving me brokenhearted and glum.

Grieving for days and nights
Wailing over my lost love,
I vowed to seek revenge
and expose death’s darkest core.

Becoming at once privy to
my innermost sinister thoughts,
Death sneaked behind me and
laid his heavy hand upon my shoulder…

Leaving a half written poem
and the ink-dripping quill
still clenched in my hands!



~Early June Standard Contest by Brian Strand.

Oblivious To Others

Your high opinion is all that matters
you think the rest of us are merely fools
High handedness leaves others in tatters
can’t you play fair and follow the set rules?
Harsh words and one’s self confidence shatters
we aren’t stupid so don’t treat us like mules!
I’ve seen your mistakes, what is it you fear?
No one is perfect, not even you dear!


Rhyme scheme a,b,a,b,a,b,c,c
Checked with how many syllables

Form O Contest
Sponsored by Broken Wings

05~05~17

Intransigence

INTRANSIGENCECapricious in opinion
Parental – High handedness
Work put in
By sentinel minions
Juggernaut enthused 
Serial circumstance
Discorded use. 	Abstinence!
Crushed!				UNDONE!
Inconsonance
I am slighted.  Rebuffed!
Disinherited
Urgency brings revolution
Insurgence
Of divine retribution.

End.

Excuse My Illegible Typing

If my typing seems illegible some times
I tend slant it to the left or the right,
Forgive me if you cannot read it, 
Let me know please don’t get up tight.

See I was born with this left-handedness,
And I am not to blame.
I take after by poor old dad,
Who suffered from it just the same.

It is all to do with how you place your key board,
I face mine left instead of straight in front of me.
This gives the letters a right hand slant,
Look closely at the screen and you will see.

So now if your eyes have gone all squint,
And you’ve read and done all I ask.
Then you just as insane as me,
For this insanity test you can give yourself a pass.

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