MASTER ARTIST
What an artist uses to shape and smooth his sculpture
Is what God will use to mold and carve our character
The artist takes his time to design or pattern perfectly
So in the end a splendid replica we see
Man can never be his shining best unless
His Master's hands guide him to complete success
And since our bodies, minds and hearts are His
We can expect the very best there is
So let our Creator make you sound and right
For you are precious in His holy sight
The resulting replica is bound to be
A special prize that will last eternally
Copyright, Kathryn Search
If I knew how to carve a scrimshaw
I would carve the world’s prettiest scene
I would carve out a catfish jumping out of a lake
After I carved a frog sitting on a lily pad
I would carve one on a dinosaur’s bone
And the other on a whale’s tooth
If he would let me
I sat on the vine way up high
What a beautiful day I sigh
Soon came Farmer’s wife
With a carving knife
Now I’m a spicy pumpkin pie
There once was a pumpkin named Jack
Who left home and never looked back
He faced a great harm
Once leaving the farm
Now fights off the Carver’s attack
They sat one across from the other
Neither could move closer nor further
She winked at Jack
And he winked back
Their unrequited love asunder
I sat serenely on the vine
The sun on my rind sublime
Came the farmer’s wife
with a carving knife
I’ll nevermore feel the sun shine
When any fruit, I see,
I reminisce mom chop it, and I as a child,
Carved in glee.
Project at school,
With New themes to choose, I did wield,
My tool.
Reward,
For skill I yield,
Scored.
When any fruit, I see,
With new themes to choose, I did wield,
Scored.
8/6/2020
Free the spirit from the stone and the wood.
With chisel and mallet carve
whatever it tells you.
i could use
some wood
right now to
whittle and
carve
a rugged, slow
carve
one i know well
one you taught me
a couple springs ago
we were carving away
at lust
at seduction
which led
to love
we both thought
of stopping
and stared at the
mess we made
of each other
you looked bad
said i carved into
something no one
else ever
found
but i looked
far worse
most of me was carved
away
you went down to dust
i think you
liked it though
you said it reminded you
of sand
of wind
of nothingness
of freedom
and
of running
away
The ground is hard, the day is long;
The earth unyielding, the spade no prong:
The laborer sweats,
His brow heaves a sigh;
The Heavens shimmer,
Dressed in parched skies.
Dreams are raw, open blisters;
His back near breaks as he twists her.
To carve a Temple
From unhewn Rock,
Flesh needs Defy
Fate's cruel Clock.
A graveyard stands upon the hill;
its tombstones smoothed beneath the tide
of nature's forces beating hard;
I pass and hear the buried cry.
"Reverse the trend, relentless grown,
that would erase our names for aye;
for who grants thought to silent stones
and corpses claimed in nameless graves?
We yet would speak, if you inquire,
if you draw near with ear and heart .
We speak of dreams left unfulfilled;
we sing our song which but in part
was heard before our souls were claimed.
Oh, who will hear what we would tell
with our last link with life consumed,
when dust with dust is mingled well?
We have a vision unattained
by you who still are flesh and bone;
if you our secrets wish to share,
dare carve us deeper in the stone."
©Faye Lanham Gibson, 1987
This poem was inspired by a very old cemetery behind my home.
The tombstones were worn so badly that the names could hardly
be discerned.
The darkness has passed and the morning has come
The birds sing hello to the day
But you lay there'til you and the pain become one
Willing all but your sorrow away
.
What happened the girl full of wonder and awe
Who dared steal your thunder away
Who took all the dreams and the visions you saw
And coloured them empty and grey
.
Don't let your tomorrows
be written in stone
The past has a will of its own
See through the lies all the clear crystal skies
And the future's not written in stone
.
You've given me hope and a chance to believe
And the wonderof living again
The Stars hurt my eyes now the darkness can grieve
For the loss of one more of its friends
.
The reason's been blowing too long in the wind
The answers too vague to define
We've all had a past and all sinners have sinned
Your sorrow's as ageless as time
.
Don't let your tomorrows
Be written in stone
The past has a will of its own
See through the lies all the clear crystal skies
And the futures not written in stone
Shall I carve images for blind men glee
Come not to this table then
Unless hunger rages in you
And in coming bring some light
From moon or star
For this memory is from lightning made
But is not new, not new at all
I reassembled words
And spring resemblles fall
For I too search for the universal
But not in the unity of theories nor belief
The subject that sits best for me
Is our obdurate and inflexible thief
I seek to tear the thing off
Like a veil of sheaf.
Yes I know this is deep water exhibition
But if you are hungry
If you can locate the insatiable in you
You will not blame for the flood
But from my words rekindle fire.
Stiff wings
Of the sooty tern
Carve the edge of this corral sea
Then, you free fall but never touching land
Glide, tumble and soar above the white sand
Still, your wings carved the sea
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