Tuesday, 25 December 2012

The Blacksmith

Travelling,
travelling one hundred miles
every, every day

but there's no time to stop.

Envy.
Envy for the man
who gets his hands dirty:
makes something with his hands.

Tangible.

Time only
for the mind
to wander
travel
even further

the blacksmith
sips his coffee
in a smoke-filled
room

swears
blue murder.

7 comments:

  1. Fine poem, Jonathan.

    Put me in mind of this one.

    (Not bad company.)

    Hope you are well this season -- and, many thanks for all the excellent posts this year!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Jonathan,
    I really was drawn into this poem - probably struck a nerve of memory vis-a-vis my father. The repetition and "rhymes" almost create 2 independent verse strands of their own (one up top, the other in last part of the poem):
    1: Travelling-travelling, every-every, Envy-envy, hands-hands
    2: dirty-(wander)-further-murder
    Highest regards,
    B.R.


    ReplyDelete
  3. I'm always in the finest of company when I receive visits like these. Merry Christmas to you both and thank you for all of your wonderful comments throughout the year.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Gritty....in more ways than one.

    Have a productive 2013!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you Vassilis. And you, too. Let the magic carpet ride continue...

      Delete
  5. every, every day

    but there's no time to stop.

    I love the strange insistence in that repetition. Odd and unnecessary and somehow beautiful. Excess of time.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks WB. Odd and unnecessary - this might be my new year's resolution. Considering how well all the rational and necessary things are going...

      Delete

Morlock Oil

Morlock Oil
A new collection of stories available now . Click on image for details.

The Quest Of Great Celtic Mystery

The Quest Of Great Celtic Mystery
New Chapbook Available (email rockinahill@gmail.com for details)