Best Jackhammers Poems

Mount Rushmore; Carved In Stone

From deep within the earth’s crust,
An orogeny pushes
The batholith upwards
To become ‘The Shrine of Democracy,’
Of weathered presidential faces
Chiseled in rock in...

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the night arrives silent as a shadow 
holding many mysteries in his clawed hands
his eyes watch our every move
every song 
every dance 

every word that...

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I look around me and all I see are colors
 but wonder if they matter at all
for I see the color of all of these...

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Fast, dusty cigarettes calmly drive a big, small guy.
The worker stops like an old sidewalk.
All skyscrapers hustle noisy, dead cars.
Lord, work!
O, death!
Dark, noisy doors roughly...

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Sun's rays glint through the glistening pines
Residual moisture imbibes the fawning heat
A cloak of needles hovers over the clandestine copse
Fertile fortress clothes the stunted flora
A...

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I grew up as a child
near a freeway construction zone
Took many an afternoon naps
lullabied by the sound of machinery drone
And to this very day
when I...

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I lay there immersed in the cosset wrap
skin smoothed into endless
the liquid thoughts on languish endless
a stretch of bone in muscle seeking comfort
finding peace for...

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Rainbow Surplus suppressing it’s limelight on the wonders of thy guillotine. Eat a planet with betadine. Horoscopes orders. The empire shines bright on double d’s....

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Walking down the street
Hearing all the beats
Going all around
Construction sites
Alarm systems going off
Honking horns
Mothers yelling at there kids
Drivers screaming at other drivers
Jackhammers pounding the ground
Water...

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Pickled percolating bile
Prances up my prickled throat
Whiskey guides my exile
While arrogance digs a moat
Brain reeking like a dog pile
Mighty flush to spin that float

Jackhammers ravage...

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Machete pecks
cycle through a staccato lied.
The music is Jurassic,
a tune rattled in the throat
of a feathered lizard –
the genetic code
of jackhammers.
Apart from the tock-tock
of beak...

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Machete jabs
cycle through a staccato lied.
 
The music is Jurassic,
a tune rattled in the throat
of a feathered lizard.
 
It pecks out the genetic code
of jackhammers.
Stabs...

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Dry, grimy skyscrapers calmly grab a dead, dusty truck.
All rains hustle dead, dead jackhammers.
The job talks like a faceless worker.
Trucks walk like faceless trucks.
Action is...

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New York City is like a cobblestone symphony,
where jackhammers and footsteps form the rhythmic timpani,
sirens and honking taxis, are the cymbals, that provide sudden bursts...

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The city above us reaches higher and higher
tipped at the top in all its glory with
iconic, prickly, spires,
as long as air rights permit it.
Build, tear...

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