"sander" poems - Hello Poetry

You are not broken, but all of the boys who want a fixer upper find you. They mistake their hips for hammers, and their kisses for nails. Their fingers, cold and impersonal, as much hoping for a crack as they are making them, find the nooks and crannies, and press caulk into them. Shine them with whispers meant to bring back the natural glow of a healthy woman. They balance their hips on yours, like that yellow bar on the mantlepiece, is the wood straight? is the construction sound? No, they whisper, no it's all wrong. Back to the drawing board, then. This time, they'll build you right, they promise. Sand down all of the splintered places where the last boys hands gave out before your corners were womanly curves. Dip your eyelashes into fresh black paint, watch it drip onto your cheek and leave it. Watch it drip down your neck and paint over it. They don't believe in luck, so they fit the curve of your hips to theirs, not meant to be, not yet, but you will be. Their hands, coarse and broad, turn your bitten, smudged lips into things straight from a ***** open and lush and beg me, baby. So you do. You use all of the words he put into your mouth like rocks: all honey and sweetie cakes and let me love you. They broke your teeth going down, but they taste like the sting of a slap coming back up. You use all of the soft places that he made on your body: let him fill them with caulk until they are unrecognizable, until you, too, are unrecognizable. You show him the constellation of scars across your shoulders: whisper do you love me now? with your hand prints wide across my spine, the sting of your sander against my waist. You teach him about desire with open legs and open lips and the tattoo of his touches on your body. You teach him about sadness with sharp, corners that are shoulder blades. He doesn't recognize those, asks himself if he missed a spot, so you show him your splintered teeth broken back burned thighs, ask him if he wants to try again. Don't wait for an answer.

0

Apr 8, 2013

Apr 8, 2013 at 11:53 PM UTC

cz

Untitled

You are not broken, but all of the boys who want a fixer upper find you. They mistake their hips for hammers, and their kisses for nails. Their fingers, cold and impersonal, as much hoping for a crack as they are making them, find the nooks and crannies, and press caulk into them. Shine them with whispers meant to bring back the natural glow of a healthy woman. They balance their hips on yours, like that yellow bar on the mantlepiece, is the wood straight? is the construction sound? No, they whisper, no it's all wrong. Back to the drawing board, then. This time, they'll build you right, they promise. Sand down all of the splintered places where the last boys hands gave out before your corners were womanly curves. Dip your eyelashes into fresh black paint, watch it drip onto your cheek and leave it. Watch it drip down your neck and paint over it. They don't believe in luck, so they fit the curve of your hips to theirs, not meant to be, not yet, but you will be. Their hands, coarse and broad, turn your bitten, smudged lips into things straight from a ***** open and lush and beg me, baby. So you do. You use all of the words he put into your mouth like rocks: all honey and sweetie cakes and let me love you. They broke your teeth going down, but they taste like the sting of a slap coming back up. You use all of the soft places that he made on your body: let him fill them with caulk until they are unrecognizable, until you, too, are unrecognizable. You show him the constellation of scars across your shoulders: whisper do you love me now? with your hand prints wide across my spine, the sting of your sander against my waist. You teach him about desire with open legs and open lips and the tattoo of his touches on your body. You teach him about sadness with sharp, corners that are shoulder blades. He doesn't recognize those, asks himself if he missed a spot, so you show him your splintered teeth broken back burned thighs, ask him if he wants to try again. Don't wait for an answer.

60

I got to say something to u, Actually many things, in ma mind they've made a queue, But in words how shud I put it to u, Anyways frst thing is tht babe u look the best in blue. I want to be wid u always, dnt care of usin a glue. Wid u my life will be the tastiest brew, We'll together touch the unending sky blue. I will face anything in the world if at my back supporting always are u. Take me away babe, I feel ur world is a land full of wonder. Only the warmth spreads there n theres no thunder. Is there anything which could be used between us as a Bonder..? Wen it comes to u my mind begins to ponder, An untidy wood I am n u r my sander, I need ur heart in here wid me wid no thought of plunder. Heart beats faster wen I look into ur eyes, Wen u r not there my heart silently cries, Just a glass of love is what I need from u in this wrld of prejudice, If ever u get a bruise, for u I would be like an Ice, I am not a king or smthing but I promise to make ur world a paradise.

0

Sep 4, 2013

Sep 4, 2013 at 12:28 PM UTC

mahesh-hegde

U, My Paradise

I got to say something to u, Actually many things, in ma mind they've made a queue, But in words how shud I put it to u, Anyways frst thing is tht babe u look the best in blue. I want to be wid u always, dnt care of usin a glue. Wid u my life will be the tastiest brew, We'll together touch the unending sky blue. I will face anything in the world if at my back supporting always are u. Take me away babe, I feel ur world is a land full of wonder. Only the warmth spreads there n theres no thunder. Is there anything which could be used between us as a Bonder..? Wen it comes to u my mind begins to ponder, An untidy wood I am n u r my sander, I need ur heart in here wid me wid no thought of plunder. Heart beats faster wen I look into ur eyes, Wen u r not there my heart silently cries, Just a glass of love is what I need from u in this wrld of prejudice, If ever u get a bruise, for u I would be like an Ice, I am not a king or smthing but I promise to make ur world a paradise.

19

garage tools orbital sander sanding away big it up for the orbital sander getting sand on now now now hear the orbital sander sand away orbital sander orbital sander orbital sander sand sand sand! like his mate the orbital grinder give it a good grind grind away on the go watch that baby grind away orbital grinder orbital grinder orbital grinder grind grind grind! hydraulic ramp going up and down no car is too heavy fantastic hydraulics touch of a button up down up down hydraulic ramp hydraulic ramp hydraulic ramp lift lift lift! laser gig perfectly aligned laser beam on target crash damage repair perfection laser accuracy beyond compare laser gig laser gig laser gig laser laser laser! boss is doing a ******* eppy the tech is too reliable he bosses and bullies his young apprentices about sweep the floor male the brews fetch the butties you ****** slaves boss boss boss!

0

Jan 25, 2018

Jan 25, 2018 at 7:02 PM UTC

nickarmbrister

garage tools

garage tools orbital sander sanding away big it up for the orbital sander getting sand on now now now hear the orbital sander sand away orbital sander orbital sander orbital sander sand sand sand! like his mate the orbital grinder give it a good grind grind away on the go watch that baby grind away orbital grinder orbital grinder orbital grinder grind grind grind! hydraulic ramp going up and down no car is too heavy fantastic hydraulics touch of a button up down up down hydraulic ramp hydraulic ramp hydraulic ramp lift lift lift! laser gig perfectly aligned laser beam on target crash damage repair perfection laser accuracy beyond compare laser gig laser gig laser gig laser laser laser! boss is doing a ******* eppy the tech is too reliable he bosses and bullies his young apprentices about sweep the floor male the brews fetch the butties you ****** slaves boss boss boss!

42

Soccer moms and sander scars Suburban life is strange. Play dates and in-line skates Schedules to re-arrange. Yoga teachers and lay preachers And those are not a metaphor. Costco trips and air-kiss lips Nobody trusts a bachelor. Coupon savers in SUVs Never use turn signals. Driving while chatting hands-free Wearing golden **** whistles. Appointments to make daily With exercise gurus. Cocktail luncheons for charity Toddlers wearing tutus. Traffic jams of cars and vans Honking at each other. Double parking on narrow streets Calling each other mothers. Starting out fifteen minutes late As is the usual way. Somehow never figuring out how To have an on-time day. Screeching home a night in time To throw together a meal. Watch television with family And pretend that is all real. Put the kids to bed right on time Try to have quality time. While the other half is half-asleep From that second glass of wine.

0

Mar 22, 2016

Mar 22, 2016 at 12:13 AM UTC

brent-kincaid

SUBURBAN SONATA

Soccer moms and sander scars Suburban life is strange. Play dates and in-line skates Schedules to re-arrange. Yoga teachers and lay preachers And those are not a metaphor. Costco trips and air-kiss lips Nobody trusts a bachelor. Coupon savers in SUVs Never use turn signals. Driving while chatting hands-free Wearing golden **** whistles. Appointments to make daily With exercise gurus. Cocktail luncheons for charity Toddlers wearing tutus. Traffic jams of cars and vans Honking at each other. Double parking on narrow streets Calling each other mothers. Starting out fifteen minutes late As is the usual way. Somehow never figuring out how To have an on-time day. Screeching home a night in time To throw together a meal. Watch television with family And pretend that is all real. Put the kids to bed right on time Try to have quality time. While the other half is half-asleep From that second glass of wine.

32

Complication is a word that I want, not to exist, But it always seems to, around me, persist. Calculations when I do for the good of all, Somewhere I get attracted to the selfish scenery and then fear for the fall. Anger rises, for the tree's not growing even after feeding water, But the water used was impure I know it in inside, So while walking away from the tree, my breathing stutters. But the water was pure when I took it in the jug, I had taken the care, But the devil infatuates me and his germs adulterate it, I am innocent so I get a crush on him, blaming only me isnt fair. Guilt comes for the rescue. How.? You would wonder, Sooner the guilt sooner the absolution and then works the sander. I know I have made a mistake and I feel sorry at the very next moment, Please dont dry away oh tree. I promise now, to feed u till u feel the content. Every bad action has the regretful reaction at the same instant in my heart, How do all feelings travel in the same beat of the heart..? I hold a hammer when walking this life with mistakes, the devil's call, Because when I try to find myself again, getting closer are the walls.

0

Jan 1, 2014

Jan 1, 2014 at 11:18 AM UTC

mahesh-hegde

Absolution

Complication is a word that I want, not to exist, But it always seems to, around me, persist. Calculations when I do for the good of all, Somewhere I get attracted to the selfish scenery and then fear for the fall. Anger rises, for the tree's not growing even after feeding water, But the water used was impure I know it in inside, So while walking away from the tree, my breathing stutters. But the water was pure when I took it in the jug, I had taken the care, But the devil infatuates me and his germs adulterate it, I am innocent so I get a crush on him, blaming only me isnt fair. Guilt comes for the rescue. How.? You would wonder, Sooner the guilt sooner the absolution and then works the sander. I know I have made a mistake and I feel sorry at the very next moment, Please dont dry away oh tree. I promise now, to feed u till u feel the content. Every bad action has the regretful reaction at the same instant in my heart, How do all feelings travel in the same beat of the heart..? I hold a hammer when walking this life with mistakes, the devil's call, Because when I try to find myself again, getting closer are the walls.

18

His tanned, stocky fingers cupped a rose, turning it toward the camera, and I clicked the shutter. He hoped only that the rose should somehow be preserved. I cared mostly that I might keep the image of his strong, gentle hand. Every day, except Sunday, he gripped hammer and plane and saw and sander, but here in the back yard, before the day was gone, he held a flower, just so, to catch the sun's rays, as if to grant extended light to this one bit of life, and to me. And I, sixty summers later, repeat his act, feeling so much less manly --my own hand being mostly unfamiliar with the grip of tools or boards. Still, since comparisons will be made, when it comes to hopes and cares as to what gets preserved of light or life, it seems that little changes.

0

Jan 6, 2012

Jan 6, 2012 at 2:10 PM UTC

stanley-r-larson

Backyard Snapshot x2

His tanned, stocky fingers cupped a rose, turning it toward the camera, and I clicked the shutter. He hoped only that the rose should somehow be preserved. I cared mostly that I might keep the image of his strong, gentle hand. Every day, except Sunday, he gripped hammer and plane and saw and sander, but here in the back yard, before the day was gone, he held a flower, just so, to catch the sun's rays, as if to grant extended light to this one bit of life, and to me. And I, sixty summers later, repeat his act, feeling so much less manly --my own hand being mostly unfamiliar with the grip of tools or boards. Still, since comparisons will be made, when it comes to hopes and cares as to what gets preserved of light or life, it seems that little changes.

26

Complication is a word that I want, not to exist, But it always seems to, around me, persist. Calculations when I do for the good of all, Somewhere I get attracted to the selfish scenery and then fear for the fall. Anger rises, for the tree's not growing even after feeding water, But the water used was impure I know it in inside, So while walking away from the tree, my breathing stutters. But the water was pure when I took it in the jug, I had taken the care, But the devil infatuates me and his germs adulterate it, I am innocent so I get a crush on him, blaming only me isnt fair. Guilt comes for the rescue. How.? You would wonder, Sooner the guilt sooner the absolution and then works the sander. I know I have made a mistake and I feel sorry at the very next moment, Please dont dry away oh tree. I promise now, to feed u till u feel the content. Every bad action has the regretful reaction at the same instant in my heart, How do all feelings travel in the same beat of the heart..? I hold a hammer when walking this life with mistakes, the devil's call, Because when I try to find myself again, getting closer are the walls.

0

Jan 1, 2014

Jan 1, 2014 at 11:18 AM UTC

mahesh-hegde

Absolution

Complication is a word that I want, not to exist, But it always seems to, around me, persist. Calculations when I do for the good of all, Somewhere I get attracted to the selfish scenery and then fear for the fall. Anger rises, for the tree's not growing even after feeding water, But the water used was impure I know it in inside, So while walking away from the tree, my breathing stutters. But the water was pure when I took it in the jug, I had taken the care, But the devil infatuates me and his germs adulterate it, I am innocent so I get a crush on him, blaming only me isnt fair. Guilt comes for the rescue. How.? You would wonder, Sooner the guilt sooner the absolution and then works the sander. I know I have made a mistake and I feel sorry at the very next moment, Please dont dry away oh tree. I promise now, to feed u till u feel the content. Every bad action has the regretful reaction at the same instant in my heart, How do all feelings travel in the same beat of the heart..? I hold a hammer when walking this life with mistakes, the devil's call, Because when I try to find myself again, getting closer are the walls.

18

Millions of years ago a glacier -like the pinpoint tip of a paintbrush in some celestial architect's hand- carved off the ridges and peaks and rough edges off this valley, like a frigid finish sander; leaving sparse patches of smoothed-out, tiger-striped gneiss that permeate a background of grass and scattered boulders. Picturing the area's native peoples -humans, deer, rabbits and porcupines- meander across it is too easy- but what is even easier is moving across it. The word "running" doesn't really fit- it's more of a fast-motion jig crossing feet one over the other and tiptoeing from rock to rock to rock five feet at a time until, at a pause for fresh air, you realize you've crossed a whole valley under sun's watchful gaze. We spent the day here, just across the border between the man-made and that which made man, whooping like madmen under sun's embrace. Emerging, some indeterminate moment later, burnt, but enlightened in the truest sense of that word.

0

Oct 18, 2015

Oct 18, 2015 at 2:04 AM UTC

j-c-lucas

A Garden of Stone

Millions of years ago a glacier -like the pinpoint tip of a paintbrush in some celestial architect's hand- carved off the ridges and peaks and rough edges off this valley, like a frigid finish sander; leaving sparse patches of smoothed-out, tiger-striped gneiss that permeate a background of grass and scattered boulders. Picturing the area's native peoples -humans, deer, rabbits and porcupines- meander across it is too easy- but what is even easier is moving across it. The word "running" doesn't really fit- it's more of a fast-motion jig crossing feet one over the other and tiptoeing from rock to rock to rock five feet at a time until, at a pause for fresh air, you realize you've crossed a whole valley under sun's watchful gaze. We spent the day here, just across the border between the man-made and that which made man, whooping like madmen under sun's embrace. Emerging, some indeterminate moment later, burnt, but enlightened in the truest sense of that word.

37

Anyways, Mentally lifting this dark blanket on top. Going to start working at this non stop. Only thing troubling me is my anger. But Im grinding away at this like a sander. Trying too hard to rhyme. One day Ill get there, In due time.

0

Jan 29, 2015

Jan 29, 2015 at 7:54 PM UTC

TheStarRoom

2013

Anyways, Mentally lifting this dark blanket on top. Going to start working at this non stop. Only thing troubling me is my anger. But Im grinding away at this like a sander. Trying too hard to rhyme. One day Ill get there, In due time.

9

To the wondering, As we all know I wonder, I wonder of the wondering, My light shines bright, Bright upon a world of wonder, A place that is the calmer, As spit the sunny sander the places that I wonder. And to know that I have a new beginning each day to wonder. I wonder.

0

Jun 25, 2014

Jun 25, 2014 at 1:54 PM UTC

destiny-baker

To the wondering

To the wondering, As we all know I wonder, I wonder of the wondering, My light shines bright, Bright upon a world of wonder, A place that is the calmer, As spit the sunny sander the places that I wonder. And to know that I have a new beginning each day to wonder. I wonder.

9

I look rough more often than I feel rough and yet this morning I feel rougher than a carpenters sander but look absolutely fabulous. Monday? what a way to end the weekend, it must be God's idea of a joke. when I wake up put on the make up and check in the rearview to see you dressed as Lucretia I'll know this was a dream.

0

Apr 4, 2022

Apr 4, 2022 at 12:36 AM UTC

john-edward-smallshaw

Splat

I look rough more often than I feel rough and yet this morning I feel rougher than a carpenters sander but look absolutely fabulous. Monday? what a way to end the weekend, it must be God's idea of a joke. when I wake up put on the make up and check in the rearview to see you dressed as Lucretia I'll know this was a dream.

13

change is hard change is good change is natural change is up there with death and taxes as unavoidable things only children fear change I've heard put my head to the sander not the chopping block neither is a first choice but I can stand some pain for some good change I think.

0

Jul 27, 2023

Jul 27, 2023 at 4:22 AM UTC

mikecccc

Flayed

change is hard change is good change is natural change is up there with death and taxes as unavoidable things only children fear change I've heard put my head to the sander not the chopping block neither is a first choice but I can stand some pain for some good change I think.

14

Did George Floyd’s life matter? Did Breonna Taylor’s life matter? Did Ahmaud Arbery’s life matter? Did Eric Garner’s life matter? Did Trayvon Martin’s life matter? Did Mike Brown’s life matter? Did Tamir Rice’s life matter? Did Keith Childress’ life matter? Did Bettie Jones’ life matter? Did Philando Castille’s life matter? Did Michael Noel’s life matter? Did Jamar Clark’s life matter? Did Michael Lee Marshall’s life matter? Did Dominic Hutchinson’s life matter? Did Junior Prosper’s life matter? Did Keith McLeod’s life matter? Did India Kager’s life matter? Did Felix Kumi’s life matter? Did Samuel Dubose’s life matter? Did Darrius Stewart’s life matter? Did Sandra Bland’s life matter? Did George Mann’s life matter? Did Jonathan Sander’s life matter? Did Victor Laros’s life matter? Did Spencer McCain’s life matter? Did Jermaine Benjamin’s life matter? Did Kris Jackson life matter? Did Kevin Higgenbotham’s life matter? Did Amadou Diallo’s life matter? Did Oscar Grant’s life matter? Did Calvon Reid’s life matter? Did William Chapman’s life matter? Did Walter Scott’s life matter? All black / All unarmed / All murdered by US Police Did Dylan Roof’s life matter? Did Peter Manfredonia’s life matter? Did Anthony Trifiletti’s life matter? Did Patrick Crusius’ life matter? Did James Holmes’ life matter? All white / All murderers / All arrested peacefully by US Police Unarmed blacks Killed by US Police 5x unarmed whites Black men and boys Killed by US Police 2.5x white men and boys This is why we kneel This is why we march This is why we protest This is why we are mad as hell This is why we are fed-up as well This is why we riot Riot is the language of voices unheard When you respond “All Lives Matter” To our “Black Lives Matter” You’re not listening You didn’t hear You don’t care GTFOH ~ P

0

Jun 1, 2020

Jun 1, 2020 at 3:38 AM UTC

james-g-paul-sr-aka-pablo

THIS IS WHY

61

In the past glamour enamored Sander Vanocur should be put in the slammer for lack of it but I guess he's got candor enough to lank her, the lady of his dreams as in a return to the soft drink Teem ** hum this topic it's so myopic I'll have to out and recopy it.

0

Apr 19, 2017

Apr 19, 2017 at 2:46 PM UTC

charles-sturies

With My Fave Sander

In the past glamour enamored Sander Vanocur should be put in the slammer for lack of it but I guess he's got candor enough to lank her, the lady of his dreams as in a return to the soft drink Teem ** hum this topic it's so myopic I'll have to out and recopy it.

12