Today’s agenda

First:  Write Poem that has been kicking for weeks

Second:  Answer comments, emails, etc.

Third:  Watch Frozen

Fourth:  Shower (yippeee)

Fifth:  Endure (gladly!) Facial Hair Reduction Treatment session #2

Sixth:  Ignore bike, get in car and go to State Fair

Seventh:  Eat, in no particular order, curly fries, dairy wives ice cream cones, corn dogs, bbq ribs/chicken, scones, deep-fried chocolate fudge dipped cheese cake (oooh, that will cost me an extra 25 miles on the bike!!)

Eight:  See all the sites, ride the skylift side by side with my baby and smooch

Nine:  Pet the lil piggies and the horses

Ten:  Drive home, bloated and happy

tumblr_lwd46kUrkP1qdbbywo1_500

The Chisel’s Hungry Bite

laying on the workbench, half carved.
clamps grip my “here and there”
there…here…anywhere I move or
slide away to from
under the chisel’s hungry bite.

wood shavings lay strewn about,
results of carvings complete,
curling locks shorn
from a recruit
on the first day of basic…or
from the denizens of Dachau
on the first day of chaos.

the view from here is clear by half…

…half:
done
undone
too smart by
falling short of the other
done with this

but incomplete, in the hole
of halfway.

a rocking horse, there, high up
on the shelf, intricate carved
curves sleek and defined,
It is there.
Safe and knowing its place done.

it is not here, clamped and halfway.

a train taught its shape
with that chisel sharp and knowing,
with that auger licking hungry
and this drill sublime and hole-y…
trained to whistle and to
click-clackity click-clack
down tracks laid by hands
and connected to ground
and come round again
displaying always it was here
but it is now there.

jaunty paint glistens red,
and yellow, and blue with glad
waiting for strings,
and plucking fingers
that move carved arms,
kick knife-hewn legs
and blink eyes saw-made
and staring…
staring at here unseeing,
staring from there.

and parts jumbled
pieces present and
full of purpose yet unfolded
sit still, calm and unclamped

I wait too, in pieces along with parts:

midst dry cedar shaving clouds scented
midst ordered clutter and stilled clamber
midst bunched silver sharp-toothed oily tools
sitting sleek, and sleeping with one yellow eye
open.

the chisel croons its tangy tangled song
in my ear which is indeed there
and waits to taste me…here.
it promises to take me
it promises to pierce me, rend me,
spread here splayed and waiting
to be taken…there.

i dread the coming dawn
and the chisel’s hungry bite
i yearn for it to touch me
and shiver with delight

because it takes me…there.

yes, at dawn,
the chisel’s hungry bite, oh…
the chisel’s hungry bite25 Beautiful Doors Around The World 009