Calloused Poems - Poems about Calloused

... I see the terror in their eyes… of those who seek to paralyze their lives screaming persistent cries of sorrow and grief that belies the turmoil and angst of disguise. I see hunger, ......

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...Verse 1: I was once a whisper, light on your tongue, A gentle hum, a soft song to be sung. But like the fray of ink, fading with time, I fell from grace as you lost your mind. Your fingers onc......

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...They fvck us Calloused hands maim soft breasts They call it genourous When teeth sink in but don't break flesh They like our scars Til they're inflicted by another They like our hearts How eas......

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...The essence of life Is not the grand, shining prize— Not the towers we build, Not the praise, not the size. It is not in the gold That I chased in my youth, But in hard-spoken love, And in s......

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...To hands that toil from dawn till night, In sun's harsh blaze or fading light, You build the world we proudly see, With silent strength and dignity. You mend the roads, you sow the land, With ......

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... The skies now dark with swollen grief, Rain lashes roofs beyond belief. The monsoon comes not soft, but roaring seas, It spares no home and trees, nor man, nor child. Before my eyes - truth t......

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... The tongue, a nimble acrobat, leaps across the chasm, a phrase so light, a breath released: easier said than done. It dances on air, unburdened by the weight of calloused hands, of sleep......

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...What I sing from my chest Only for ivory keys to hear. Are the same old words That cracked lips bear. That familiar tune that calloused fingers play Is the one that my own heart aches to say. ......

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...In the hush of dusk when streetlights flicker alive, obsidian sheet metal catching dying light, A black Chevy Impala – Detroit steel poetry in motion. They don’t make ‘em like this anymore, All a......

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...To the world, he may just be a man, Chasing dreams, with calloused hands. But to her, he's the little boy still, With scraped knees and a stubborn will. She watched him stumble, watched him gro......

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...Wake. Commute. Work. Repeat. They call this living? I call it the hamster wheel— spinning faster each year while the cage only shrinks. Three jobs to afford one roof. Two hours of dayl......

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...my grandmother’s name is Verna some look at her and see section 8, welfare checks, abuse and neglect they see insufficiency, ignorant independency, a trench-condemned wreck no collegiate ed......

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...The Killing Field” Ariana nodded, tremolo fingers, and they ran across the killing field, watching the steel-toed kite ascend— a fleeting instant of triumph in the vacuum. Josh scoffed as it d......

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...The Killing Field” Ariana nodded, tremolo fingers, and they ran across the killing field, watching the steel-toed kite ascend— a fleeting instant of triumph in the vacuum. Josh scoffed as it d......

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...Brains and guts orbit the soul— that polar star searing in the marrow of being. I was born somewhere between Einstein’s neurons Ginsburg beat poetry, the birth of rock and roll, revolution march......

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