Wrist Poems - Poems about Wrist

Silverback led his gorilla by the wrist out into the fog and missed, lost his heart and then his way, sadly, he was heard to say, "Don't get me wrong, I'm no King Kong, it's plain to see, so, don't make a monkey out of me." Silverback took his gorilla by the hand, looking for the promised land, a jungle bungle at very best, made him...

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….nobody dies on my Watch This joke has been brought to you By mes...

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I invented a new season for life because I got tired of the winter spring summer fall pattern My paisley doesn't like to conform to the depression of polka dots only on the pocket square and not the entire outfit Where's the art in the plain white t? I see the aesthetic, but I want the screaming art...

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A sudden flicker of space Saw inpouring of grace Activating both wrists There is no mistake Since we were awake Endless are divine trysts We catalogue this event Of boons heaven sent For record keeping Mindful eye cognises How magnetism rises Within our form leaping...

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We wait for news of the sale of our house, our home. Weeks pass. Unsettled. Unable to focus on anything else. All seems temporary; provisional or not relevant. I call to mind patients needing patience; waiting for results. Not knowing. Tested. Trust tested explores hope, rehearsing what ifs. Whatever news comes, knowing brings relief. Decisions can be made. Actions follow. In writing...

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Knocking across my abilities That I could find it tough The battle to play in no time My wrist dissipating out of power To watch the surroundings of ours Such that my hand less weighed Although no stretch made possible. Thinking within my instincts Where I should search some options The decision to put into action Oh medulla! Why no pathway? To create some streams of...

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Leaping, spilling, jumping, The flowing crimson flood Pours forth, my heart still pumping The river of my blood...

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"Notes on a Wrist" the pulse felt under nibs of fingertips translates a life the semicolan stretches like the devil hungers it can wait a long time eternally feeding you drip by drip ever present the missing hovers, like a hummingbird never sits beak and feet wet in the detail tasting the temptation to cut strings fleeting and fickle like a child switches graces the keys black and white the forest contains all...

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Technological marvel: who’d have ever guessed? They went to the moon, powered by less. The thing receives phone calls, it’s got GPS, a mindfulness app for when you are stressed. It monitors heart rate, can produce EKGs, prompts you when it’s time: take your medicine, please. Blood-oxygen levels, hours of REM sleep; If you’re under the water, it knows just how deep. If you’re lost in the woods, it will help get...

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Time, night, and sleep, I could not tell, For down on the bathroom tiles, I fell I hit my head but not so bad, My hand, my muse screeched “are you mad, What have you done”, confused, in pain I looked, down at our hand, a monster Glared at me, broken, swollen, angry and red, “Wake up first don’t sleepwalk...

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The Wrist Bears the watch marking time And moments sublime Shakes the hand to impress And flaunt success Deftly bends to play the notes of staccato And trills of vibrato Takes the pain As drugs enter the vein Radial pulse strong and steady Then later thready The rhythm of life eventually ceasing Unleashing, cut like a knife...

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My head burning! My eyes turning! Stomach churning! It’s a new twist Requiring a priest: To God close enough to clear the mist Prayers firing while holding my wrist Or delivering right hand on my splitting head Now, often seeking a pillow on any bed! Or should I a doctor try? To halt this that does my system fry? Would a doctor Prove the victor Or a worse...

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( for what its worth. ) -- Instruction:  How to know there's nothing left ~ you've over-stayed your visit         I recall the sun of old thoughts seeped under:         ~ How to 'Improve the world' ~ leave something useful behind ~ something better.     --Instruction:  The first evil act is eating      I see the shocked wine bottles     steak sauce and     jutting ribs of celery...

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I wanna be able to show everyone the scar on my left wrist Without being judged, or mocked or laughed upon I wanna be able to tell the story behind the scar To everyone who asks I wanna be able to tell everyone that my life Isn’t perfect That however much I may pretend I too am broken I don’t really care...

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I can’t believe today that I broke my wrist! And I can’t push the button for the cream that’s whipped How am I to eat an ice cream sundae? Without that white topping that brings it thunder And what am I to do when I want some jello? Cause on top of that dessert whip cream is stellar Oh woe is...

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