Maker poems bring the best collection of short and long maker poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great maker rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these maker poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on maker are here for you.
Solo, I am clock maker born September 22nd, a Virgo/Libra mix insane, look at my moving parts, apart yet together, holes in air, artistic perfection, mechanical misfits everywhere, life is a brass lever, a wordsmith, an artist at his craft.
The Violin Maker awakes and heats his glue in a coffee can rigged on a hotplate. He is aged and stiff like his wood piles of it stacked and waiting spruce special ordered from Ohio oak pieces from a broken
I looked at the night’s dark sky With the twinkling stars above, The magic they play to the eye Left me mesmerised. The Milky Way And the Great Bear; The shooting star And the pole star; All play their parts,
Destiny maker: Where are you? In your own heart Inside of you….. Destiny maker: Who are you? I’m your own thought I am you….. Destiny maker How does it go? Plant your seed Watch it grow Do good deeds And,
Here she gathers her flying hair into rocky curls. Her eyes blow away; fire, soil and air. Her heart bangs drop down, one by one, on the road. Her eyelashes melt into wax covering caves floors. Her stony dress waves
Departing Sacramento, Ca. just past 7:00 AM PT on a nice Saturday morning, we headed for Chicago. All is going well as we take off, as the pilot soon announces that we will ascend up to 39,000 feet. I am
Sun rises in east and sets in west, every month, moon appears and disappears, seasons come and seasons go, but heart rhythms are unceasing. Night comes and fades away- day arrives and gradually it disappears; in rain and in sun-
What is it’s essence? Is it like a vulnerable, Hemingway-portrayed skiff being tossed about by changing waves of feelings, urges, yearning? Is it like a spoilt compass, it’s nervous needle half-trembling, rotating in illogical, unscientific, fickle-minded fashion, unable to be
You are the most fickle thing of the world, You show the most amazing movie of the world, You are the game-changer of the world, Everything revolves around you in this world. Oh Mind! You are the ceaseless, the most
Let me bequeath my fond memories to you Before I depart for the vermilion horizon Beyond the deep blue blur where the birds return at dusk… Memories of lazy winter afternoons beneath clear blue skies Rummaging through curious branches of
From my point of view, grandma was my pillar of love and strength Mother was a faithful wife, a loving homemaker, and a good hairdresser Daddy was a breadwinner, versatile entrepreneur, and plantation manager Jack, given to me when just
5am, the vending machine rattles, groans, collapses Violently, I kick it, yell at it, shake it The green tea can is grinning at me, mocking me. A passerby opens his fresh can of beer he sees me desperate for a
I give you a shoulder to cry on, endless night talks, lamentations & worries, I have made your problems my burden, support both emotionally & physically, These four walls have seen it all, love, worry, regret & the thief of
Black and white, our favorite colors I write to feel alright, but it’ s hard to write right, my favorite duress, its my plight and it lasts all through the night even during the day sometimes, even to date but
Have I been born of a curse; Rehearse The station just burst, A hole through it first; So it is like to be at the mercy, of this jury decided on perjury. A trial without annihilating the evil inside me,
Great Maker beyond human knowledge. Our time is short. Our knowledge finite. Reality infinite. We struggle to understand. We create structure to make it so. We build and grow the best we can. It’s a struggle every day you know.
It takes a hard surface to sharpen a knife. Neither surface is willing to give. Difficulties sharpen the way we live. When they are overcome, life holds more to give. The number one is uncontested. Number two denotes conflict. The
I hid my face securely between the soothing palms of Mother Earth, And passed by, the world without caring, taunting and laughing, Some do stop just to ask, “Hi joker, feeling pity for your maker?”, But I stay as dead
The grey-haired die of hunger, the children’s’ store full of food, While still breasting, death snatches her mom, She faces the wrath of her step-mother, what crime is she paying for? While still nurturing her infant, the shadow snatches her
My notebook is ultimate power; My pen is my sword as I write the names of Earth’s human scum. Their faces flash through my mind. And soon they will meet their “maker.” God had told Abraham: “Thou shalt not kill.”
What do you believe and why do you believe it? Our world has shaped who we are physically and spiritually. We are different colors, speak different languages and have different gods based on where we were born. The accident of
When I look at you, I see a combination everlasting. A multitude of options moving ahead pushing forward. It’s no doubt that this life was meant for you and I to meet, if it was not, I’m confused to how
A little childhood collecting Waste papers on a garbage dump Asked me, “Am I borne to do this job?” I had no answer A childhood begging on roadside Asked me, “Is my childhood borne for begging?” I had no answer
I remember our first hungry kiss we behaved as though the time was less making patterns on each others’ body how can I forget the place where you first touched my heart it was then we told each other we
Part One – KaySee You message me, I respond to you. Just want to hang out, what was I to do? First two days, everything goes great. Presented yourself atop a pedestal, all that’s on my plate. Suddenly your thought’s
I’m scrunched in partially obscured view seating, hands at my temples, elbows pressed to the balcony rail. Look up, Sherman Alexie! I squint through borrowed glasses, willing your signature pen to drop, your writer’s eyes to find me. I’m cheap.
For my distant special friend….. I mocked you often Whenever you said we are special friends I asked what does the word Special mean You never explained Now I know why I laughed at you my special friend Never realised
The week is nearly over and the nights are growing long, the verses turn melodious but the chorus names the song. The words sing out a message in the lines where they belong, the clock in the ticking corner is
The night was never caught so clear Each star was cast so crystalline, So much wrapped in black velvet shade Like moments clad in silken sheen, And evenings’ artists drew their pictures With their quill dipped in lunar ink With
A distended deceipt takes over, when you, you become the fear – under a distorted moon, tangled, unscripted. The damp nails scratching, on the skin of light after hurricane. Ruins stand on broken skulls praising the icy death bringing the
The sensation of thick honey Gliding down your throat, Enveloping your tongue in A heavy, smooth numbness that warms your buds, Dissolving into sweet ecstasy. The smell of rain Soaking into parched soil, Tingling your nostrils, Tickling your senses, Encompassing
You said “You’re an inspiration” I look at you confused, For the words “She’s a drama queen” are all they ever used. You said “You have such focus” I wonder what you see, For they said I lack direction, don’t