Short Index Finger Poems

girl pronounced brain dead
just squeezed my index finger
holding on to hope...

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The last time
I took
a photograph 
Instamatics
were in flower

No one
could get over
the expression
on my index finger...

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wrote a poem across his back



AP: Honorable Mention 2022

Submitted on July 11, 2021 for A BRIAN STRAND JULY 13 contest sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - RANKED 1ST

Posted on July 8, 2021...

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his little finger kissed her little finger, cute feng.

ring finger. love is not a game! natural love.

middle finger!!

index finger is wonderfully great.

thumb is the greatest. A thumb for natural love!...

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just one crazy bush
spread out in that barren field
sprouts blood-red berries

one icy window
one index finger writing
she reads backwards    smiles

how simply charming
this snowflake hits my window
melts a wayward star...

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Chestnut hair
Hues of gold

Transforms to dust
Settles there in

Eyes umber

Index finger
Traces ear

Guides titian tresses
In channel there

Eyes slumber

She goes to a place
Where little girls dream

She goes to a place
Where little boys dare

Ne’er enter...

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Abstract aspect of art,
Tiny tears on a tongue.
Lately our love is lost,
Advantage across affection.
Never normal nights,
Tension through thunderstorm.
Ink is on my index finger,
Searching for our sweet secret in a salt....

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Her short skirt clings.
I consider her thighs to be too thick.
High heels click.

Nevertheless, I watch her walk away.

The thumb and index finger
of one hand commence
to rub together like the legs of a cicada.

She has rhythm.
Thoughts buzz from ear to ear.

My mind is as sticky as flypaper....

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"My tumb finger waiting to put a 
sindoor in ur forehead, index finger 
is waiting to put a dot in ur swt 
dimple chick, middle finger is 
waiting to help u to hold the nouse 
ring while u r waring it, ring finger is 
waiting to get a ring frm u and little 
finger is waiting to hold ur little 
finger forever....."...

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Your zeal’s infective, flashed his frown,
Get it not to your headless crown.
We want our work done here,
If I must make it clear,
Let not your zeal spread, tone it down.  
________________________________
A boss warns an executive for his enthusiasm, pointing his index finger.
Limerick |20.07.2024| humour, business         
...

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The inside of my knuckles,
Between the middle and index finger, 
Burn like hell.

This cigarette has drawn an ash,
Longer than I could draw a line
Upon a piece of paper.

I'm afraid,
To inch my hand anywhere near it.
This keyboard, 
It's so god damn clean.

Is it necessary to create such a mess,
Upon the place my hands work?
While the canvas,
The bright screen,
Remains clean?...

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The Grammar Years


On that train an hour ago, 
though he did not see me,
I saw a teacher I had years ago,
a proper man was he

who in the margins of my papers
wrote short sermons in a script
so perfect and so neat
they looked like samplers.

But on that train an hour ago
I glowed in exultation when I saw
his index finger pluck
a small erratum from his nose.


Donal Mahoney...

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Touching a red-hot stove burner will cause pain.
Therefore a not red-hot stove burner will not cause pain
my kindergartener logic assured me.
“Don’t tough it. It’s hot.” 
Meddling authority figures.
How could they be wrong about something so simple?
It wasn’t long after that 
that my right index finger and middle finger
were coated in salve and wrapped in gauze
and throbbing primordially.
Sometimes adults aren’t wrong....

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Apply the Johnsons baby oil all over your fingers.
 Insert your index finger on the top of your  lip.
 Slowly move your hands around, breathe in and breathe out. 

Stick two fingers inside the magic hole,
be gentle, don’t rush. 
Squirt, let it out, the water is precious
to all who desire it. 

Gently, use the tip of your fingers to massage 
those lips with the magic water. 
Clean up afterwards.

Written by Tionna Robinson...

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Have you ever tried choking? He asked nonchalantly.
“No,” she said. *with a wrinkled nose of disapproval*

“Want to try it?” *His approach couldn't hide his excitement* 
“Ok,” she said, absent mindedly running her index finger over his lips.

“you  can  choke  me,” she added slowly,
 “if I can stab you repeatedly
 with the 7 inch stainless steel
 nail-file I keep under my pillow.”
.
.
Songs for this:
Me and the Devil by Soap&Skin
Better By Myself by Hey Violet...

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