Handprint Poems - Poems about Handprint

...Silent soul Sitting next to the devil Nobody knows What's gonna happen next That silent kid Doesn't want to live anymore Agreed to bad things So that he would be accepted But the handpr......

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...Where inside this skull (this soon to be abandoned cave), is mind? Not an ever-dying brain, but ‘mind’ that infinite capacity of higher cognizance. Did death leave us like this, w......

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...She barks, "Turn your cheek!" She leaves her handprint on it. "And now the other!"......

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...Everything about this place reminds me of you From the couch where you once sat to the bed we used to lay in From the kitchen where I once cooked for you to the bathroom where I held back your......

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...Slime covers esily It’s engulfing, digesting Like an acid dissolving with a noticeable hiss Diffusing into the brain And just not leaving, Never leaving It spreads from the handprint It dampe......

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...sensory grass tickles your toes soft pokes every word is a stroke of a blade not a brush a lawnmower in the distance breaks the silence what the hell… the smell of fresh-cut grass and t......

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...Diaries left open and letters framed, chronological ink waving from a horizon, gone. Clothes hung to recreate a wedding, a dance, a touch – enclosed in glass cases to trap the scent inside. Th......

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... In the corner of a room is a showcase received from a library rummage sale. It's being utilized differently than its original purpose for the public. It is now very much a family focus. ......

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...Her face showed he'd come off as predal Now it was too late to backpedal "Stupid wins prizes," She shouts, "of all sizes," Her handprint now worn like a medal......

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...I am always so addicted to each word that is left unsaid; Every wound is self inflicted Go right ahead, go right ahead; Pain soothed by being quiet bonding my scars with your toolkit; T......

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...In a mystery that starts with an abduction, And ends in what might be the perfect crime, I noted, with a sigh of resignation, How evidence depends on space and time. There was little that gave......

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...I find my memories, to be a collection of convoluted excursions from every moment lived out of place and time like the handprint of Paleolithic Art that says... I was there Could that my memor......

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...The Choctaw never taught me what the Choctaw would’ve taught me. The Australopithecine never taught me what the Australopithecine would’ve taught me of. The Memories, these Memories, our Me......

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...If all of eternity can be measured in the palm of God’s hand, And if every created world is His handiwork, then who can Challenge Him in what He creates, what He paints, and what He destroys? ......

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...You know not why you're now here,  just that you are bound by fear-  (and a couple incised wires)  watching me, enticed with pliers.  Naked, cold, taught, and crying,  you can't move, although y......

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