Chisels Poems - Poems about Chisels

... Hate not the clouds that roar; Feel happy, seeing their outpour! Glare not at the chisels that cut you hard; Mind, they turn you into the idols of high regard! ......

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... The clock, a relentless heartbeat, ticks forward, each beat a thief, stealing moments, once vibrant, now fading hues in the attic of my mind. Sunlight through a dusty windowpane, illumi......

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...volcanic activity liquid magma cools contracts chisels rasps measured patterns settling to hexagonal colonnade morphed entablature unique marvel unsigned sculpture......

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...Resilience Unveiled” To the woman who weeps upon betrayal’s blade, Her heart’s fragile wings, in tempests swayed. Yet within pain’s chisels, a metamorphosis blooms, Mating intelligence refined, wi......

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...In the twilight of thought, where shadows weave endless night stories, We wander through the labyrinths of time, seeking meaning in the stardust of our existence, Haunted by the whispers of mortali......

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...Cloaked in misty judgments, we have dressed ourselves, Finding in condemnation a kind of sacred and dignified sport. An inert paradigm, where blame is like a talisman That people wear proudly, bel......

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...To the other woman, I am not mad at you. What you see in him now, is what he shows me yesteryear, only one of us will weep upon his grave: To the All-Woman Who ‘Loses’ Her Mate When love unrave......

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... There is no escape from strange morning whims, when irritation causes numbness in my limbs. Dawn has become an unwelcome nemesis, rage for sunrise an uncontrollable genesis, disturbing the ......

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... In the lonely woods, Memories stir like the wind in the trees. Lost in the shadows, I find you, With your gentle smile and kind eyes. In the lonely woods, Your memory stays with me. E......

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...Eons ago, near two flowing rivers in old China Lived an old, white clothed man ninety-nine years of age Who glared at two mountains he knew from his long-dead childhood Who glared at the gian......

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...It was a dark hole into an Aladdin's cave of old tools. A small window gave the only light and fell on a rough sawn bench wearing scars inflicted by years of use. Saw cuts, drill holes and the......

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...Wind filled sails drives his command, A salty breeze chisels his face. The crew obeys his every demand, Master of the sea stands in his place. Sailing South to all virgin lands, Heading's true......

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...It seemed as if the air was sucked out of my lungs, my breathe in tatters I heard my heart break into a million pieces The sound of it shook out my tears Like shards of glass falling, each memor......

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...I speak of the breast best, mother Mary and her voiceless love. My pillow-talk told to doves and divas. And my voice sounds in the whale bone, in the thunder of workaday ants in their Brooklyn......

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...The appearance of gentleness shows many gracious ways and this image of godly meekness is being totally true to oneself; it can't be stirred by rage, or even irrational revenge: indignation is ......

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