Best Artisan Poems
Lacy nights with tender touches, oh, how I crave your embrace,
for I’ve never known something so beautiful as you, my sweet-
I use my charcoal to sketch your silhouette as the light dims your face,
for my parchment has thirsted for the curves of your waist.
Tracing each crescent of your soul entices my longing taste,
for since the first glance you swept me off my bare naked feet-
I use my pastels to add hues of pink to rosy cheeks, so chaste,
for my canvas is but a distant memory I never wish to erase.
October 19, 2016
With each brush s t r o k e I sigh with pride,
for on my canvas, I have nothing to hide-
A silhouette of a man who loves me so,
embracing all possibilities I hold inside.
It’s the contour of life, it’s the f l o w,
I’m an ARTISAN BEAUTY that can’t let go.
I pour all my instincts and paint with passion,
so that each masterpiece speaks of compassion-
Fabricating a perfect picture with zeal,
I lose all my inhibitions and my ration.
I just can’t explain how I internally feel-
Oh, this c o m p l e t e n e s s is so tenderly real.
A graceful outline of my daughter so pure,
or a painting of all the pain I’ve had to endure-
Hues of colors creating a k a l e i d o s c o p e,
shades of a rainbow that brings allure.
I cast all my cares and hold onto my hope,
so that in my anguish I may learn to c o p e.
Infatuated with landscapes and illustrations,
maybe of this God-given miraculous creation-
Scenery of mountains and a s u n s e t in the sky,
brings me such a satisfying sensation.
I feel as if I can s o a r like an eagle and fly,
as I whisper all my anxiety goodbye.
When my hand’s technique knows its part,
I can say I’ve p a i n t e d from the heart,
and with each proficient artwork I originate,
I know that with my pigments I cannot part.
It must be my destiny, my born fate-
I’m an ARTISAN BEAUTY that can create.
Meraki
Silent One
November 30, 2017
Across the table from an empty chair,
I sat and tried to sound interesting,
She stood so close and we discussed ice cream,
And Cornflakes, and bourbon, and the art scene,
The fact we both have lived in bungalows,
We had seen each other twice before this,
The second time was in a crowded hall,
In a house with a Latin band playing,
I never asked her about a fourth time,
Because wouldn’t that just be so cliché,
She smiled at me again and left me there,
Outside of the artisan ice cream shop,
Across the table from an empty chair.
Michael F. Lewis
02/03/2013
nature's artisan
busy spinning silver threads-
web cradles rain drops
For the Thread contest
2/3/12
Bits of what we had
Became unstrung, life then spun
Out of my control.
Then saw goodness of your soul...
Sadly cannot find them all.
she was an artisan masterpiece-
delicately full of mystery,
yet colorful and magnetic.
she drove me crazy,
like a charcoal etching in heat.
she was a silhouette of my existence-
craving to be one with...
no one else except me.
I knew nothing of love before her-
I only sought things that made me imperfect.
but-
she is perfection and amplitude all in
one piece of work of art...
and I am undeserving.
she was an hourglass,
longing for each grain to pass through her thirsty soul.
she was flawless yet messy,
mature and abundant in beauty.
I never knew why she chose me-
I may never realize my significance.
there is one thing I know for sure,
she brings light to my darkness and
sanity to my confusion.
her artistic creation has spoken... my soul awoken.
October 5, 2017
Memory-the artisan
pasting collage to the mind
a slideshow of
highlights
lowlights
blistered frames with no lights...
lives in speed-of-light review.
A foxtrot of realist- impressionist
the mad-mad artisan
kneading frantic distortions
horrors
marbled
with
slivers of bliss
funhouse deceptions
a lavender and piss checkered mix.
Good memories are nothing but escape
on a leaky life raft
bad memories are dorsal fins stripping
the last fleck of light from waves of black.
Nothing really matters but the moment
that cold kelp tide that grips the chest
until it's hammered back into a relief of memory.
Who has created deep azure sky,
In which, the clouds do love to float and sail?
And who has embellished the butterfly
With colorful beauty in detail?
Who does shower the snow in the winter?
In foggy days who spreads mist curtains ?
Who has crafted the curves of the rives?
Who has embossed the range of high mountains ?
Who streched the bands of seven colors,
Who has constructed the arch of rainbow?
Who has gifted the birds cozy feathers,
And made them able to fly to and fro?
I do adore the Divine Artisan,
Who has made the world in such perfection.
silhouette of touch
beloved-
lover's tender trace
MagiCicaga 13 Contest
howmanysyllables.com
August 14, 2018
primal atavism
northeastern artificer
climb coconut tree
Hands softened by diesel oil
Strengthened by daily toil
Scarred by physical work
Lie helpless while they talk
Softly of time and age and
The shifting of life's sand
The artisan listens sadly
Sixty years so badly wanted
Fifty nine years are granted
His life ends that terrible day
He has no reason to stay.
Artist creates
Handmade craft art
Great precision.
Strung along, I am a fool
Always working for others
Once branded a handy tool
Foot on my neck
Boot lodged for good
I barter and sweat
A soul without identity
I work and work
Free food and amenities
However no ambition for more
The days stretch together
A day's work leaves me sore
Trapped by a leash hand-sewn
Never in search for better
I could have done well all alone
A life of nothing, wasted among time
Perhaps I could've done more
If you ask, I'm doing just fine
Artisan from Kenya worked hard on my locket.
I thought I had lost it, but it was in my pocket.
Have had many compliments on this one-of-a-kind treasure.
It has gemstones of ivory, opal, and it shines beyond measure.
I doubt that I will ever meet the craftsman in this world.
But this locket is valued, the gemstones are swirled.
Artisan from Kenya, know that I love it ever so much.
I wish I could see all of your work, you have a magic touch.
Having learnt the art from her mom,
Using hair rollers, the little girl
Wants to enhance her everyday look!
Holding a mirror in one hand,
And a mascara wand in the other,
She wants to give final touch-ups
To her makeup with utmost attention!
Her seriousness in her work,
And satisfaction in her face,
Tell us what she’s all about -
A perfect artisan at work!
Image Prompt # 3
3rd Place