Category: Poems from the book Look Ma No Hands

“Peace is…” appears on the album Happy Accidents and the book Look Ma! No Hands! You can stream the poem on Spotify.

Peace is in the middle.
It’s between you and me.
It’s between us and the universe.
It is neither left nor right,
but it’s right not wrong,
solving wrongs long since gone.

It’s the tightrope we walk
between what is needed and wanted
between individual and greater good.
It is how opposing ideas can be both right.

Peace is going with the flow,
but not being afraid to speak up,
to stand up for a better world,
moving slowly towards love
if we all keep moving forward.

Peace is letting yourself be you.
Peace is accepting your duality,
Working on loving your flaws,
and growing your number of strengths.

Peace is not overreacting in anger,
destroying their peace,
but not letting someone run over you,
destroying your own.

Peace is remembering your origins,
but letting where you are teach you,
teach you how to grow into yourself.

Peace is being insightful, not inciteful.
Peace is letting it go and letting it out.
Peace is accepting yourself, not oppressing yourself.
Peace is letting your dreams overcome your fears.
Peace emanates outward in every hug, so hug freely.

Peace Poems Poems from the book Look Ma No Hands

“Peacenik” appears in the book Look Ma! No Hands!

I am a pacifist because I know
what it is like to lose your cousin to war,
what it is like to lose friends over petty arguments,
what it is like to miss your dad now deployed,
what it is like to experience military conformity.

I am a pacifist because I battle
with controlling my own darker side,
with seeing the good in others,
with the being the target of rage.

I am a pacifist because
I believe humankind can do better
than bullets, swords, and bombs,

and maybe the day is close,
when the only necessary arms,
are used for hugs yet to be given,
and feet that once marched to the drums of war
will now only walk hand in hand towards justice.

Peace Poems Poems from the book Look Ma No Hands

“Hanging On” is a poem that appears in Look Ma! No Hands!

You are my anchor.
When I drift out to sea,
you are there to center me.

When I feel like I am drowning,
you throw me the rope.

You lift me up until I soar.
I long to stay connected,
oh, even more than before.

You teach to keep swimming forward,
through dark waters of despair.

You shine a light on a new way,
against the tragic currents of life
that aim to hold me back.

Other things may give me strength,
but there is nothing more powerful than your love.

Poems from the book Look Ma No Hands Poetry

“Tonight” is a poem that appears in the book Look Ma! No Hands! 

I find peace in the night long after the sun has set
when the troubles of the day have passed onward
and nothing can be done. Some peaceful relaxation
in the neon lights of the cities and their comforting blink
as the cars churn onward like a white noise machine.

The quiet has settled in and not a word is spoken
but the wafting melodies of random yesteryears.
Some strange music working its way into my heart
bringing alive my soul and leaving my mind
in awe of its poetry. What is the real difference
between a prayer, a poem, and a song?

The line fades daily as there is no real line
only our words labeling dividing and the indefinable.
And as it fades, it is only wholeness I feel for those
self definitions we concern our days with are invisible lines, too.

Poems from the book Look Ma No Hands Poetry

When You’re Grateful

My soul was longing for home,
the home will where I feel free,
where my feet cross mountains,
slip barefoot into streams,
gaze at the beauty of the sun,
sing with my entire soul encompassed,
create what it wishes to create,
hug with a fully open heart,
and be surrounded by like minds,
and God you have granted me 
many moments of thus,
and I am forever in your debt.
You have lifted me countless times
when I saw no way back up,
you have reminded me of my path
Forward towards love and peace 
for me and us and everyone.


This poem was published as a part of Look Ma! No Hands! If you dig it, please support the author, and grab a copy!

Poems from the book Look Ma No Hands Poetry


I think I keep questioning this because it seems too good to be true. 

People encouraging me to do what it is that I always wanted to do.
Enabling some things to happen that I never believed would come true.
Some strange desires awakened that I forgot I even had.
My life has been so shaken, that I forgot how to be glad.
When it’s about growth it’s fun, but an obligation is not always so.
One has to fool oneself in order to keep so much on the go.
Spending life, trying to be good, even harder to be great.
Is this some poetic justice, a reward, punishment or fate?
With exhausting pain, it seems like for such dreams, it’s growing rather late.
Dreams seem far too risky when you’re used to being safe.
The obstacles grow in number, and it’s hard to keep my faith.
Realism crashing in, neither optimism or pessimism, 
But in such harsh reality, idealistic dreams keep me awake.
Soundtracked by the surrealistic music I spin of late.
They shake me into action and in movement I find serenity.
They seem to hold some rusty key to happiness as of late.
The moon is a sliver tonight enveloped by a hazy sunset gradient.
Living in this parallel universe, oh, so completely different.
Watching the war planes race across the sky,
Knowing trouble is out there, but feeling safety on high.
Perhaps if you believe enough, you can rise from this new state.
The irony that what seems easiest is now difficult to be.
How I long for feeling open, so in love, and feeling free.
Reality pales in comparison, oh what came to be,
When imagination went traveling towards possibility.
I find peace in the quiet night with only the clock a tick,
The whirring of the highway lulling me to sleep.
Some easy gratitude for this life, even as it came to be.
After all I’ve no control, an illusion that we see.
Simply breathing like the waves in peaceful seas.
The beaches for relaxing, the woods are for exploring,
And the ocean beckons towards adventure.
For tonight, I am content in my living room,
Attempting smiles with no answers,
To the questions my soul seeks.
I spend all day trying to survive,
And so few minutes of poetry that keeps me alive.

Poems from the book Look Ma No Hands Poetry

Random Reflections

While anticipating tomorrow,
I watched videos from a distant yesterday,
And wondered why life has strayed.
I’m on a roller coaster lying still.
It is never what we imagine.
Moments of anguish interspersed,
By moments of real joy.
Sometimes fate can be delightfully wonderful,
And yet madly painfully, unpredictable.
She said, “Don’t forget to eat your rainbow. 
Eat all of your colors.”
I laughed hysterically at the absurdity of art.
Never trust a stoned poet,
As they’re climbing the ceiling fan,
Like a penguin on the roof,
Existing in only awe, powerful awe.
Whenever I’m in your house,
The mask comes off.
My guard is dropped,
As I stare at your artificial sunlight,
You’re brainwashing me with your smile.
You can’t have two trips at once.
I borrowed from one trip,
In order to take another.
That’s when she asked me, “Does God have a mother?”
I cracked, “Of course, if he’s Jewish.”
But who can limit God to one religion,
If we’re all originals,
Shaped in a potter’s wheel with God’s hands.
Is it not the difference then,
If you believe God is only in one,
And I believe God is within all?
And therefore all must be one?
We think we are individual bricks,
But we actually are the wall,
Holding one another up,
Trying so hard not to fall.
This illusion feels like a spiritual experience,
But much like life, there are waves.
Thoughts may not be facts,
But they can be poetry,
As poetry can disconnect fully,
From reality and still be valid art.
Keep following your heart,
And realize your Internet connection,
Is but no real life connection.
Descriptions of myself,
Are often confined by contradictory labels,
Of origin, consequence, and self-fulfilling fables.
How you’re never from the place you are,
Passing through like a shooting star,
Reliving, repeating, revealing circles of memory.
If great artists steal, why aren’t they making more money?
Art is just another way of remembering.
Keep remembering me, you, and everyone.
Use the fine line between genius and insanity to write on,
And you’ll manage to stay sane among humanity,
Understanding more by intuition than intellect,
When your intellect can become incredibly foolish,
Believing you’re facing death as you go through rebirth.
Stop running from your fate and approach the airport gate.
Penguin airlines is preparing to blast off,
Even if only for a moment in my mind,
It’s better for some time for laughing is better than crying.
In your presence, the words seem to wander,
Through the deserts of my mouth,
And I fear they will exit garbled, falling south.
You won’t know if you can really move,
Unless you think you can,
But when you think you can, you move.

This poem was published as a part of Look Ma! No Hands! If you dig it, please support the author, and grab a copy!

Poems from the book Look Ma No Hands Poetry