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 poem is written in a heartfelt manner. Reading it filled me with nostalgia and gave me insight into the author’s childhood. I absolutely love the writing style and how honest the poem felt. If you’re reading this TG, I am currently in a class doing a poetry review. I am quoting this poem in my assignment (giving you full credit, of course) and relating it to themes of self-concept. It’s an amazing poem, you’re inspiring me to try writing for myself again.
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.
This poem is great. I loved the way that hands are used as a metaphor for many things. I particularly liked the “Hands are not politics” section of the poem.
Thank you for writing this poem and sharing it with us.
This genuinely made me cry. This was so beautifully written, and the emotion you convey is absolutely heart wrenching. This brought back so many old, nostalgic memories that I barely remembered I had. I will definitely see my hands quite differently for the next couple of days.
Your poem beautifully explores the significance of hands, symbolizing connection, growth, memory, and life’s journey.
Not many really think about the importance of hands everyday, but this poem transforms something that seems so simple into something we should all be grateful for and appreciate. My hands have gotten me so far, as have everyone else’s, and there is a lot to appreciate for that. Your writing is so beautiful and captures so amazingly the feelings of family, love, growth, and livelihood all through something as hands. This piece is incredible, keep writing and I hope to see more from you!
This poem is a beautiful, heartfelt meditation on life, family, and the lessons learned through the simple yet powerful act of holding hands. It captures the gentle bond between a mother and child, the complexities of growing up, and the importance of touch in shaping our experiences. Your vivid imagery and emotional insight reveal how hands carry memories, dreams, and connections that go far beyond words. The ending, with its full-circle realization, is especially poignant, perfectly capturing the bittersweet nature of growth and self-discovery. Overall, it serves as a moving tribute to the simple, profound actions that define who we are.
This poem overall is very significant and powerful. It captures so much wisdom throughout it. I feel that striving for something that you want is very important and all people should do the same.
This poem overall is very significant and powerful. Your words captures so much wisdom throughout it. I feel that striving for something that you want is very important. I am currently in my undergrad about to switch to my actual major and im nervous but im going to keep striving to do so because i love to do it.
This poem is so full of heart—it moved me deeply. The way you wove together childhood innocence, maternal love, cultural expectations, and the poetry of human connection through hands was beautiful. It’s amazing how something as simple as a hand can carry so many stories, emotions, and memories. You reminded me that our hands are not just tools, but living archives of our journey. Thank you for this tender, powerful piece.
This poem touched something deep in me—it’s tender, nostalgic, and profoundly human. The way you moved from childhood wonder to the layered meaning of hands as memory, connection, labor, love, even resistance… it’s just beautiful. The moments with your mom—those hand-holding games, the laughter, the honesty—felt so real and familiar, like snapshots from a love that shaped everything. By the end, I was smiling through a lump in my throat. Thank you for this—it’s not just a poem, it’s a memory shared with grace and soul.
This poem beautifully captures how our hands tell stories of growth, connection, and change over time. It’s a reminder that even something as simple as a handshake or a mother’s touch can hold deeper meaning in the journey of life.
This poem beautifully shows how hands can hold so many meanings and stories, from playful memories with a mom to the deeper moments of life. It reminds us that the simple things, like a handshake or holding hands, can carry a lot of weight as we grow.
I love this. It’s a story I can relate to from different circumstances. How we grow and start to relate to others in this world? Our moms and their jokes. Sometimes I think they’re jokes are a way to acknowledge their own thoughts of what they consider their failures. When you talk about reading the past by the scars on our hands, isn’t it the past that molded our futures? The scars on our hands match our souls.
This poem is tender, nostalgic, and quietly profound—an ode not just to hands, but to love, memory, and the unspoken lessons passed between generations. It weaves childhood innocence, maternal warmth, and the complexities of growing up into something deeply human. By the end, what starts as a simple reflection becomes a celebration of connection—reminding us that hands don’t just build or fight; they carry our stories, our hopes, and each other.
This poem tenderly weaves childhood memories, lessons from a mother, and the symbolism of hands into a profound meditation on love, labor, identity, and the simple human connections that shape our lives.
This poem feels very warm and playful, but also deeply reflective. The author is able to weave childhood memories of holding hands with a mother into a meditation on what hands mean in life. The author shows how hands carry stories of work, love, struggle, and connection. This poem is a reminder that something so ordinary can hold extraordinary meaning.
This poem really touched me. I love how it takes something as ordinary as hands and turns them into a symbol for connection, memory, and even history. The parts about your mom stood out the most, especially the hand-holding game and the moment she told you interlocked fingers were for a girlfriend. Those details made the piece feel personal and tender.
I like how this poem takes something as ordinary as hands and turns them into a record of memory, identity, and connection. The way it moves from childhood play to family bonds, to labor, conflict, and back to tenderness shows how hands carry both personal history and universal meaning. The ending circles back with humor, tying it all together in a really human way.
Hey TG, I really love how you bring so much nostalgia into your poem. The Gi Joe’s, the holding hands, and the basketball are all things you experienced growing up, all things that are important to you. And how they all slipped away without really noticing it was happening. I also love how you show not just what hands can do but what they symbolize. In your poem, I feel like the hands represent a sense of connection. You talk about what hands can do, “how to grip pencils and mold poetry,” which suggests that for your creativity is a strong part of your character. I also love that for the ending, you brought it back to your beginning about basketball, creating a cycle.
A fascinating poem that makes me ponder a bit about what my hands have learned over the years. It feels like it tells a great story of a life no other hands could make.
Hello TG! This poem shows how much meaning and memory can live in something as simple as hands. You show love, growth, and connection through the moments you shared with your mom. You show how hands carry our stories, our past, and even our hopes for who we might become. I loved reading this! Great job!
This poem is a beautiful reflection on the many roles hands play in our lives—from childhood play to connection, work, and prayer. I love how it weaves personal memories with broader reflections, making hands feel both intimate and universal
Dear TG,
There are a couple of things that drew me to this piece, TG. What I appreciated the most was your commitment to the central image of the poem. You effectively weave multiple threads into this singular idea of hands. I see the primary idea as hands demonstrating freedom and tools to use in communication with others. This freedom becomes restrained as we grow older due to the increased social pressure that we must act in an appropriate way. I like your lines on kids being able to “chunk the deuce” but adults having to “need a firm handshake”. This highlights your point about restriction well. You did a good job at supporting this point by showing the cost that comes with the social pressure that ‘hands’ are forced into with your mentions of Ukraine and countries seeing hands as “warriors”. Saying “Hands are not politics” is strong claim that stuck with me, it made me sad because I’m in that stage where I need to let go of childishness, but the hope with the mother seeing her son at the end was inspiring for a better future. Thanks, TG, for this poem.
Sincerely, MM.
This is so beautiful. I love how you connected it to so many things in the world. The line about mom saying the hand holding is for girlfriend hurt my heart a bit. I do understand but it made me very sad. The ending really made me feel the lost dreams. I love how you connect the end back to the beginning and in doing so make such an astute commentary on the circular nature of life.
This is so incredibly moving. We are born with nothing but love, curiosity, and innocence in our hearts. We believe that anything is possible, and we are unburdened by the weight of reality. I think “reality” in a world where you can no longer hold hands, but instead have to shake hands, is one of our own creation. I think children understand the world a lot more than any adult does, as in they understand the real world. They understand a free, loving, and beautiful world. I believe that one day we will live in the world that children are born believing in. I believe that is the most natural way for us to live, and I think you did a phenomenal job of describing the reality check we all receive at some point in our lives that we do not live in a natural world, that we don’t live in a loving, fair, magical, and beautiful world.
The construction of this work brings the reader in a lovely circle, while also reminding one of growing up. Hands are how we learned to do everything else, hands raised us over the heads of others when we were not two feet tall. Hands are the link between people, like you and your mom, the innocent clutch to another human.
I think there is a reason figures receiving God are depicted with open hands in art, for God finds us in clasped palms against a bent head when we need him.
To be honest, I never thought much about my hands until this poem. They work, and they sweat, and they touch my loved ones’ faces. To find spirit and depth in these limbs enlightens every human process and this is something I will cherish.
This was such a unique perspective that it took me a few minutes to sit with the weight of your poem. The way you explored growth through the extended metaphor of the hands while simultaneously addressing hands as topic of their own was so well thought out. What stood out the most to me was the hand-holding. We’ve all had these experiences, of growing out of those exhibits of love, but it takes someone pointing it out for us to realize. All in all, I really loved this poem–I thought it was so masterful and beautiful!
I love the depth brought to this poem. Such a powerful message throughout. The passing of time shows such great story. From innocence of asking if you could be a basketball player to seeing wars and the change in society as you grow. I really enjoyed the importance you put on something that most people don’t think twice about. Your hands allow you to communicate in so many ways, some of which said in this poem. A message I got from your poem is that people are too caught up in expectations and wants and need to go back to really paying attention to the people around them, as they are beautiful. Thank you for your poem, I enjoyed reading!