A Poem about builder

concrete jungle

A Poem by Murmur Muses
© 2015 Murmur Muses
  Do you know that my words turned into brush strokes and colors on my work
glass of my feelings
thoughts are rivers that lead me.
frozen alive in the valley
Black outside
 lights inside
made of sand
attach with cement
existing in a material
 or physical form; real or solid; not abstract.
from a mixture of broken stone
a heavy, rough building material .
skeleton of the iron rods
elastic, vibrating
sanding into the living rock.
a maximum  glazed where it should be.
devoid of all superfluous.
vertical mirrored facade.
inside, forming a beautiful (divine) play of light.
imagination of the architect
Ionic temple from the 6th century.
pillar imitation grace  beauty of women.
wears the crown cornice carrier of curtains.
of ivory and ebony, gold and precious stones.
the golden tip for the mausoleum.

© 2015 Murmur Muses

description of women, creator and artists


Added on December 13, 2015
Last Updated on December 13, 2015
Tags: temple of art 

Murmur Muses


passion for the study

Osijek, Croatia, Croatia

About Me

After the gods have moulded men and other living creatures with a mixture of clay and fire, the two brothers Epimetheus and Prometheus are called to complete the task and distribute among the newly born creatures all sorts of natural qualities.