Short Calloused Poems

Calloused hands still shine
in clumsy deeds devoted-
Iron boned kindness....

Read More

wooden spoon worn smooth
calloused hands’ enduring tool
sleeps in a drawer...

Read More

feet are getting old
thread veins wrinkled calloused skin
taking me with them...

Read More

new babe                                             
held in calloused hands --
a father's touch...

Read More

My heart writhes within my chest,
Calloused hands trace red velvet,
I daydream of tomorrow,
My world is a stage....

Read More

a fine blanket of sand
toasts a calloused skin
a definitive bouquet
a calming pitch
the ocean embraces me
and I submit...

Read More

calloused hands touch me
icy feeling like winter
from his fingertips
I shiver from the contact
and plead for spring rain...

Read More

red rose
blossomed laughter
wrapped in thorny castle.
droplets of pain in calloused hands
both red





23rd July 2021...

Read More

Sweet husband 
Your calloused hand tender 
Warm and reassuring
On the small of my back
Guides me into a room
Before yourself
...

Read More

I want to write
To bleed the whole of myself out into this void
To push the pen across this paper until ink fills the cracks of my calloused fingers
To be complete again...

Read More

a soft gentle touch
feels the warm pulse of guidance
of a calloused hand



__________________________________________
*note: this is a newborn touching his father's hand....

Read More

the dirt clung to them
creased by life’s endless struggles
broken fingernails


a scarred litany
of bruised, gnarled and calloused hands
the poor man’s mantra


©6/2/2023...

Read More

I’m inebriated with him
By his sinful touch
Its meaning is evil
His ardor fed by my desire

I desire this rouge
His violent touch
And calloused hands
That rub my wanting raw...

Read More

he only once
saw his father

cry

on edge
in an easy chair
put mussed head in calloused hands
quaking
broke

a wooden rule
by luck
shouted bad black mad

and he bittered...

Read More

my breath on your chin’s stubble,

I stroke your strong calloused hands

and feel your desire surging. . . . 

Welcome home, Darling.


For Michael J. Falotico's Contest: "Spicy"...

Read More

Calloused hands transfer into formed stanzas on paper-
That which cannot be expressed otherwise,
Never frustrated,
Always flowing,
The words from my mind,
I wish to one day-
See them in print....

Read More

Hard-working, calloused hands 
firmly imprint ridges upon my back.
Your sandpaper face, like a fine file, 
smooths against my neck gently.
Like your rugged bristle terrain, 
my arm hairs stand erect.


11-7-19...

Read More

Lost Love is always welcome here
Behind blue eyes
And in these tears

Inside my hollow hopeless heart
Between black lungs
And broken parts

Upon my calloused finger tips
That touched the skin	
I've come to miss...

Read More

Reciting prayers,
Body splayed across the floor,
Reaching for heaven.

Knees gnarled and bent,
Mouth calloused from oration,
Hands clasped tightly shut.

Passionless faith is,
Just ceaseless recitation,
Magic doomed to fade....

Read More

Could you, would you
still take me if all I
owned and had to give
was this bed of grass
and two calloused hands?
Could you, would you
forgive me when the
blades wilted until brown
and these hands withered
deep into the ground?...

Read More

tossed, blown away by Life's 
howling wayward winds,

groping in the dark caves 
of cold calloused hearts,

still able to keep unshaken 
and firm my Fearless Faith

in tomorrow's smiling sunrise,
in much better things to come....

Read More

What is love?
Is it like a rainbow
That joins two
Fields of flowers,
Or the smell
Of cinnamon sticks
In the early hours?
As her child eyes
Gaze upon my
Calloused hands,

I instinctively
Embraced her
Precious face.
This is love....

Read More

I love because I can.
In a society that embraces 
those who have, not those to 
give. 
I am still able to share this 
thought. 
I walk down poverty lane happy 
with a rich heart. 	
My calloused hands are all I 
need to create my world.
My happiness....

Read More

Your hair is the meadow grass
Your eyes the big sky
The lines carved on your face
Speak the cruelty of the place
You call home

The saddle formed your stance
Ropes, your calloused hands
Your quiet confidence tells me
Of months spent on the prairie
All alone...

Read More

What is Man
Written: by Miracle Man
12-15-2019

Man’s life is more than the sum of his years,
From birth he steps smartly toward judgments gate.
With calloused hands, and eyes dripping tears,
He fulfills his purpose trusting life was au fait.
...

Read More