TubeWrite: These Hands Are My Hands

This is my entry into the TubeArts competition.

The first time I posted this it didn't work, so I'm trying again...sorry if there end up being doubles.

_________________________________

These Hands Are My Hands.

These hands are artists hands.
They have passion callused to their fingertips,
And potential hidden in their slopes and valleys.
Reach up and pluck from thin air
The ripe fruit of possibility,
Growing so abundant there.

And gingerly taking chin in palm,
Turn the heads of passers by.
Open wide their eyes,
Accustomed to the grays and in betweens,
Open wide.

That's what this city is, you know,
Grays and in betweens.
Chimney soot and side walk chalk,
The black and white of this town.

These hands have seen the world.
It is road mapped to their palms,
Latitude and longitude on every fingertip.
They have dug into the green and brown,
And felt the blue and teal,
Where highways do not pave the ground.

Away from carefully manicured lawns,
Green carpets between brick and pavement.
The plastic flowers on the table,
Manufactured happiness in a vase.
Real happiness is much too fragile.

That's what it's all about, you know,
How fragile everything is.
So we copy. So we copy. So we copy.
Trying to capture beauty, only getting shape.

These hands are mechanical hands.
Clockwork flesh and bones.
Neuron-firing binary codes pumping in my veins.
This world is changing,
For better or for worse,
Always shedding it's skin.

The cave wall is now the bathroom stall,
Hieroglyphs and pictographs, graffiti
That we paint over with white.
Shade our eyes from such primitive things,
Cover it all with white.

That's what we're taught to do, you know.
Turn away and shade our eyes.
Pop a pill to make it go away,
Whatever drug there is nearby.

These hands are lovers hands.
They have caressed the cheek of Picasso,
And been tangled in the Mona Lisa's hair.
They have posed for Michelangelo,
And been my eyes
When I am blinded by beauty.

But beauty is hard to find these days.
There is a made up spectrum of
What is kosher, what is right,
And anything that does not fit
Is painted over with white.

That is my drug of choice, you know.
The things that do not fit.
Without a freckle in the face of society
I would surely lose my mind.

These hands are fossil hands.
They have whispered words to paper,
And shouted in the face of judgment.
They are imprinted in time,
In everything they touch.
They are immortal.

Perhaps they'll find a place for themselves,
Behind glass and velvet roping,
When I am dead and gone.
But echoes are meaningless
When voices need to be heard now.

That's what this world is, you know.
Echoes sounding all around.
Voices heard only after the matter has passed.
Why even bother speaking out?

These hands are open hands.
Rarely fisted and never cupped over ears.
Open to receiving the same in return.
To be heard!
These hands are cupped around my mouth,
A make-shift megaphone.

But as my voice grows horse,
My words fading to echoes,
There is something louder,
To be heard across the world.
Fingers dancing on a keyboard.

That's what the secret is, you know.
A voice that can't be drowned out.
There are no piano strings beneath the keys I strike,
But still the sound is music to my ears.

These hands are artists hands.
They have passion callused to their fingertips,
And potential hidden in their slopes and valleys.
Reach up and pluck from thin air
The ripe fruit of possibility,
Growing so abundant there.

And gingerly taking chin in palm,
Turn the heads of passers by.
Open wide their eyes,
Accustomed to the grays and in betweens.
Open wide.


Copyright 2008 Willow A.

Category:

Entertainment

Tags:

• tubewrite
• tube
• write
• tubeart
• art
• poem
• poetry
• my
• hands

[emmster5912]

awesome poem! i was wondering what your name is? i'd like to use this poem for a poetry program for a competition and i need to cite the title and author. thanks!

[DaughterOfSappho]

I'm flattered that you like it so much, but I'm afraid I'm not comfortable with it being used by someone other than myself. Sorry, gotta hold tight to my copyright.

Good luck finding (or writing) a poem for that competition.

[zonesid]

is this written by you..?? that's a lovely poem.. it deserve more views and ratings..

i wish i could see more of your work

[DaughterOfSappho]

Thanks! I probably won't be posting anything, though (not for awhile, at least). The youtube format isn't really my style. But hey, who knows!

[anamcara21]

I've just listened again to your video. I hope you are going to share more of your work with us. I really do.

Ron

[DaughterOfSappho]

Ron,

Thank you so much! I am beyond flattered. I do hope to upload more of my writing in the future, but probably not for a few weeks (lots to do). I feel kind of bad, though, because I spent a lot of time and effort on this one piece that I'm afraid everyone's getting their hopes up for my other writings.

Thank you again, and g'luck to you as well.

Cheers,

Willow

[tuinky19]

hippie bitch.

[1karatemonkey]

Nice!

[DoloresD]

this is beautiful!

[shanethepoet]

Pretty good poem

[DigitalEidolon]

Very nice.