Hands
By TG
When I was little, people used to tell me that I had big hands, you should play basketball.
They would tell me so often in fact
That one day, I started to believe them
Until I asked my construction worker mom:
“Mommy, mommy, mommy could I be a basketball player?”
To which she said “No way!”
I don’t remember the reason she gave me
And I would have been upset
But there were far too many GI Joe’s to play with;
Too many homework assignments to write;
Too many girls to wave at;
Too many years to grow;
We used to have this game, my mom and I,
About holding hands,
Cause when I was little, we held hands everywhere.
And every time, either she or I would whisper To the other,
A great big number; pretending that we were keeping track of
How many times we had held hands;
We were sure that this time had to be: 9,406,833
You see, Hands learn more than minds do.
Hands learn how to hold other hands;
How to grip pencils and mold pottery;
How to shoot marbles and throw a baseball;
And grip the handles of a bicycle;
How to touch old people and hold babies.
Hands molded in prayer resembles a steeple.
They are the maps and compasses with which
We navigate our way through life.
Some people read palms to tell your future,
But I read hands to tell your past.
Each scar marks a story worth telling.
Each calloused palm, each cracked knuckle,
Is a thrown punch, or years worked in a factory.
Now I see Ukrainian hands
Striking against Iron fists.
Each pounding against each other like war drums.
Each country sees their fist as warriors,
And others as enemies.
Even though their fists alone are only hands.
But this is not about politics!
No,
Hands are not politics;
No,
This is a poem about hands,
And fingers
Fingers placed together like a beautiful steeple
In prayer.
Once when I was older I grabbed my mom hand so that
Our fingers interlocked perfectly
But she changed position saying
“No, that hand hold is for your girlfriend!”
Kids high five and chunk the deuce but grown ups,
We learn to shake hands.
Because you need a firm handshake,
But don’t hold on too tight;
But don’t let go too soon;
But don’t hold on too long;
But hands should not be held to social construction
When did it become so complicated?
I always thought it was simple.
One day my mom looked at my hands
As if seeing them for the first time;
And with laughter behind her eyelids.
And with all the seriousness of a women of humor could muster,
She said, “You know, you got big hand;
You coulda learn to play basketball.”
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This poem is a beautiful and heartfelt reflection on life, family, and the lessons we learn through the simple yet powerful act of holding hands. It captures the tenderness of a mother-child bond, the complexities of growing up, and the significance of touch in shaping our experiences. Your vivid imagery and emotional depth highlight how hands carry memories, dreams, and connections that go beyond words. The ending, with its full-circle realization, is touching and perfectly encapsulates the bittersweet nature of growth and self-discovery. A moving tribute to the simple, profound acts that define us!
I like how this poem has a heartfelt, nostalgic tone that explores the importance of hands in shaping our lives and relationships. The playful memories with the speaker’s mom, mixed with reflections on the strength and symbolism of hands, add depth and meaning. The shift towards more serious themes like war and identity contrasts well with the lighthearted beginning, showing how hands represent not just physical actions, but also emotional connections and experiences.
Wow this is one of the most beautifully orchestrated , well crafted poems I’ve ever read. It’s almost like a movie is unfolding in the mind. Very picturesque. So much imagery and I love how consistent it is about hands but it’s telling a story in different ways. I now look at my own two hands differently! Job well done
This poem masterfully intertwines personal memories with broader reflections on life, identity, and connection, all through the metaphor of hands. The narrative is engaging, moving from childhood innocence to a deeper understanding of the roles hands play in shaping our experiences. The playful yet profound moments shared between the speaker and their mother, like the counting game, add a layer of intimacy and warmth. The imagery of hands as both tools of love and instruments of conflict is striking, especially when the poem touches on war, then shifts back to prayer and the simplicity of human touch. The mix of humor and seriousness, especially in the mother’s final remark, gives the poem a satisfying sense of closure, while highlighting the tension between expectation and reality. It’s a thoughtful exploration of how something as ordinary as hands can carry extraordinary meaning.
Dear TG,
Thank you for sharing your poem, “Hands.” Words mean a lot to me too, especially deeply felt and thoughtful (thought-full?) and surprising ones that can lift up a person who reads or hears them, and carry them out of any kind of prison they may be in at the time, and right through the day. Your poem did that for me.
Sincerely,
JoH in Frederick Maryland
This poem beautifully explores the significance of hands and their role in personal history, relationships, and broader societal themes
This made me tear up, this is AMAZING’! I hope I can read more of your work soon.
This is a Store of whole lifetime written in just a few lines. Although a woman, this attitude towards men is a normal these days.
This poem beautifully highlights the significance of hands in our lives, from childhood memories to the marks they bear from life’s experiences. I love how it illustrates how hands are not just physical parts of us but also storytellers of our past and guides for our future. The imagery of hands holding, working, and fighting really conveys deep emotions. You did an incredible job using such vivid figurative language.
Your poem is absolutely stunning. The imagery, the depth, the wisdom, the emotion. I got teary reading it, especially as a mom of a four-year-old kid who loves to play basketball and with whom I have meaningful inside jokes (just like those mentioned in your poem with your mom). You are speaking universal truths and feelings in this poem and I just wanted to tell you how deeply it touched me. Please keep writing, I look forward to reading more of your work.
This is so moving, thank you for sharing.
I really enjoyed reading this poem. It’s a reflection of fond memories with your mother. It gives a different perspective that many probably don’t think about hands learning more than our minds. Adding the light humor towards the end brings you deeper in sharing something everyone can at some point relate with. Wonderful poem!
That poem was beautiful! Your memory of holding hands with your mom is touching. Those moments, those simple acts, carry so much meaning and love. Hands truly do learn more than minds, shaping our experiences and our lives.
Your poem about hands is deeply evocative and beautifully written. It captures the essence of how hands hold memories and stories, shaping our lives in ways we often overlook. The imagery of hands learning more than minds and being maps and compasses is particularly powerful.
Wow…this poem is amazing. The tie in at the end about the basketball truly cut my heart. This is a beautiful exploration of simple gestures of love that we have manipulated far too much. People like this who still find such beauty in things a lot of us don’t think about are special.
This is such a moving poem! Thank you for sharing your story. I couldn’t agree more, there is a shift from when we are little in all things, including holding hands, from what society expects from us at that age to when we grow up and the expectations change and we are no longer encouraged to follow our dreams but to be realistic about our dreams. The lines “Some people read palms to tell your future/But I read hands to tell your past. / Each scar marks a story worth telling. /Each calloused palm, each cracked knuckle,/ Is a thrown punch, or years worked in a factory.” is so moving since its so true. Scars and marks share our stories and everything we have survived in our life. Thank you again for sharing
Wow, that’s such a heartfelt and vivid piece. It captures the depth of human connection and how something as simple as hands can hold so many stories, lessons, and memories. It’s beautifully nostalgic and thought-provoking—really makes you think about the little things we take for granted.
Your poem is so heartfelt. I love how you used hands to show connection and growth. The line, “Hands learn more than minds do,” really made me think about how hands hold so many memories.
The game with your mom about counting handholds was sweet—it shows how love can be shown in small ways.
The ending made me smile, especially when your mom said, “You coulda learned to play basketball.” It’s a great mix of humor and love.
This poem is beautifully written and full of heart. The way you connect hands to life’s lessons and relationships is truly profound—such a moving piece. So inspiring to read! Thanks for sharing!
Thank you for sharing this poem with the world. I’d like to just highlight a few favorite lines. “Hands learn more than minds do.” It beautifully sets up all the things that hands can do for us and how they learn. I also loved “Hands molded in prayer resembles a steeple. They are the maps and compasses with which we navigate our way through life.” It reframes how we think about something so basic to our functioning. Great work!
I love how you incorporated different walks of life into the hands poem. The way you wrote is very poetic and it flows so well. The way you touched on prayer, hand shaking, hand holding, fist fighting, working in a factory, molding pottery, playing basketball, gripping a pen or handle, and others really adds to the diversity of the poem. It shows how anyone can relate to this poem about hands and see the literal and metaphorical ways hands are so important to our lives. I can really tell you put your heart into this poem, especially with the parallels of your mom at the beginning and end. That was my favorite part!
This is a very good poem and a very good read. I really liked how at the end, you tied it back into the beginning of the poem. I also enjoyed how you showed that even something like holding hands can show love, even if its in a small way. Overall, great work!
This is so beautiful. I loved the way you wrote it in a storytelling sense. You took a body part that to someone else, may have little meaning, but you were able to describe it in such a way that will stick with me whenever I glance down at my hands. I love the way the story revolved around you and your mother, but that it took us through your life in a natural, easy way. You are so talented with words. I hope I can read more of your poetry soon.
What a great story told through a personal memory. a very relatable message that many can hold dear and relate to. I love poems that take a minor idea or aspect of life that may have personal value to the poet and use that to either shine light on a larger message, retell a personal experience, or just reminisce on good times. This poet has made me think that I have been taking my hands for granted, and I should have been more careful and dearer towards them. such an eye-opening poem that will Definitely make me look at my hands very differently for a while. Phenomenal poem great work!
TG, this poem is incredibly poignant and thoughtful. It’s really compelling how you combine intimate recollections with more general themes of labor, connection, and even war. This piece resonates on many levels because of the metaphor of hands as storytellers—holding, molding, praying, and fighting. I adore how the poem adds a humorous and sentimental touch while returning to your mother’s remarks. One minor recommendation: while the shift to international issues, such as those in Ukraine, is powerful, it could be a little more seamless to preserve the poem’s personal tone. All things considered, this is an exquisitely written, emotionally charged work that conveys both universal and personal truths. You have a captivating voice, so keep writing!
The fifth stanza in this poem is my favorite. There are often so many minute things tied to our identiy- such as having big hands. There is an initmacy to touching hands with someone else, despite it being such an ingrained part in our society. Someone’s hands can tell you a lot about themselves. Our hands hold the key to many lost hopes and dreams. You perfectly described that feeling. This was a beautiful piece.
This poem beautifully explores the meaning of hands—how they hold memories, shape experiences, and connect us to others. It starts with childhood dreams, moves through life lessons, and touches on deep themes like war and unity. In the end, it circles back to the mother’s words, showing love, humor, and nostalgia. A touching and powerful piece!
This poem is nostalgic through the hands metaphor that symbolizes growth through experiences. Moving from childhood innocence through games and then the transition to the hardships of adulthood, it shows that change is inevitable. It tells us to cherish our innocence because time doesn’t wait for anyone.
This poem is beautiful and moving. The moments with your mother makes me feel as though I’m experiencing these moments myself. The specific detail makes it feel as though the moments in this poem are unfolding in front of my eyes. I liked how this poem explored topics like family history and war through a simple topic like hands. It shows that a topic as simple as hands could also be very complex.
I love this!
I love your poem! I have also been told my whole life that I have big hands… what a fun connection haha! But, I connect to your poem also because I believe it is always important to strive for what you want to do, what you think you’d be good at, and/or what you see as important to yourself and your well-being. Hands hold a lot of power.
This is very beautifully written. I love when poems are very story-oriented, which is certaintly true for this one. Good job!
This poem is so rich and beautiful — it captures so much warmth, wisdom, and emotion. The way it uses hands as a symbol of love, work, connection, and history is incredibly powerful. The storytelling is vivid and heartfelt, especially the relationship between the speaker and their mom — it’s tender, funny, and full of life. The balance of personal memories with bigger themes like war and human connection gives this poem so much depth. And that ending? Perfectly bittersweet and lighthearted. This piece is truly something special.