Left Handed Poems - Poems about Left Handed

Tho' right-handed instruments the two do play yet one is downside up left-handed musicians both are they or seem to sup from a similar southpaw cup and if you follow the trail of crumbs they lead to Jimi the Starr of guitar and stick to Ringo the Hendrix of drums ...

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My paper is always turned so people don't judge; because yes if it's vertical my work will be smudged. With the other I've tried to write; but man it just doesn't look right. When I bat on that side the ump runs to hide. I can't even start on that foot, my balance pretty much kaput. And do...

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My mother mentioned casually that I was dyslexic. This was something I had forgotten. I knew I had to wear a glove for a year of first grade To force me to not use my left dominant hand. But I had forgotten the hours I spent after school with Miss Kneeland. Miss Kneeland was an old maid school teacher Who had...

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There has never been a southpaw, Who has the crushing show made poor; Each in the ring a carnivore, His left hook, his wasting death jaw, Your swollen eyes already a law Before the last bout on the floor. A lateral body positioning That The Left Thing keeps conditioning, From the ring catapulting a victim...

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I’m a southpaw, one of those left-handed, upside down, have to curl my arm to write, backwards individuals, liv’in-the-left-life in a right-handed world. Think It’s easy, e.g., being a leftie? Think again... we’re out of place at dinners, have to master backwards scissors, built specifically for righties and we are forced to learn everything, in reverse. We wear permanent spiral wire imprints on our left arm from trying...

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She can’t be left-handed, my mother told my dad. Miss Kneeland, the first grade teacher says it’s simply not the fad. There must be something wrong with her, the whole family agreed. Look at her right now, 40 feet in the air, upside down in that stupid Oak tree. So they made me wear a mitt on my left...

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you are on my mind yet so far away left handed chemistry never felt so good if only mutual feelings could be reached images of bumping into each other at a beach access stays firm and stubborn in my mind something about you....always been something about you.... though your color is different from mine, all i see is the natural...

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left handed scissors the most wonderful dark green feel mighty special...

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My boss asked me how old I was today. When I told him I was 60 he said, "No Way!" "Tomorrow I'm putting you on a lighter work detail," to me he told. "I had no idea that you were so frigging old."...

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my left handed lover has a silken touch knowing reaching holding and yet breathless in time....

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