Carved my living from the sand and trees
made it work with the hands God gave me.
Feel the heart inside the wood, understand
what will be seen, what the feelings demand
how to reveal the soul, how to burnish until,
the sweet peace of life is finally revealed.
I know the Gods of fire and deeds well met,
the ones who work a man sweaty 'til sunset.
Vulcan brought the star into the light
created the fires that let him work the night
forge the iron, work the gold, make right
the silver flashes in the hilt of a knife.
He came upon a dolphins back
made his way to my lonely driftwood shack.
Held a fiery light in his hand and asked
me if I was up to the life and task.
Promised me a rush when art came free
out of the pieces of work in which I believed.
I don’t do it for money and I may never have
a wife. Big and clumsy looking, some call me bad
for drinking too long into the wild black nights.
I find my children in the hearts of tree and starlight.
I got his fire fierce in my blood. His will in my hands.
Call me sinner, call me damned. None matters when I can
release the wonders of the wood into the day light.
I burn the fish and I give him figurines in metal bright.
I won’t make weapons and I won’t play at war.
But, we stay even ‘cause we both know the score.
He wants a pair of hands to create craft and art
I want to be more than the fool who lives in the wood
at the edge of the park.
3:10 PM
02/11/09
Alexandria, VA
In a list
Please tell me what you think, what it makes you feel, how you are moved.
Comments
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Okay, I confess I've had to leave this and come back to it time and again. I think maybe because I didn't quite get the complete meaning, but now I think it's been been revealed to me. I like that you display natural human error, in that you talk about being hands in the hands of your creator.
I also like how you still kept flaw in the poem, as anyone who's had a Christian reaffirmation can agree that just because you've decided to live for your creator, it doesn't make you better than the rest.
Love,
Jin
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First, I love how I make you come back and work for the meaning. It means that I catch something you want to hold, make sense of. Very nice compliment.
Artists are driven. They have to believe in their creative strength. Even as they know they never create so well to say all that need be said. When we believe in a God, Higher power, and feel this is our source, it humbles us. Keeps us in a state of humility. We are only human and blessed to have an abilty to tap into the creative force. Still we are not God, the Creator, only humans praying we can get it right.
Thanks for the sweet review. You catch much of what I was trying to say and show about belief.
Love, Tom B.
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Nice, very Nice.
I really like the gentle rhyme.
Blessing,
Joe
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Thanks. Glad you enjoyed.
Peace & Light,
Tom B.
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The magic in your lines comes of molten genius and passion reflected in soul. This makes me think of another poem I have long pondered, as life is carved of intelligence and power which only Love brings to light...like the rose that climbs the vine and thorns from root to petal, unfurled in the sun -- God's smile, made manifest in a perfect work.
This one is a breath of astonishment. Totally lovely.
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Thanks. I wanted to catch, at a root level, the sense of, not just inspiration, but feeling of being possessed that comes with being an artist. Glad you enjoyed.
Love,
Tom B.
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Loving theCreative Flow
My Oh my I have walked this well traveled road so many times when my father told me. "Don't waste time on poetry, or writing." an I was stuck in the rut of everyday living...But I believed in my self and I would not have known if I never got out of the rut....stealing away to scribble down a couple of verses here and there....This is how I relate to this read....I saw myself.......on fire....picked up a
pen and put out the flame..........excellent...novy
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Art creates us as much as we create art. It demands us to give ourselves to it or not be alive at all. You are so right in this. Thanks for sharing from your soul.
Love,
Tom B.
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Stirring...
I felt myself consumed by the fiery commitment
in this one. And the ending is supreme. The way
rhyme is woven in echoes the magic of a dolphin
god. This one is potent in its humbleness. Blue
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There is a certain magic in rhyme. It creates its own magic and I needed this piece to be steeped deep in a sense of magic so the man could still heed the spirit of his self as it was supported and contested by it. When we deal in art we realize there are forces far greater than us working through us. If we are too proud or disdainful in our thankfulness, we could wake up and wonder and cry at how empty we have become. So a little fear, a great deal of humility and a sense of the blessing that creativity brings to the soul are all part of this poem. I can not strive to display humbleness it is doomed to fail from the effort. But if I capture a taste in my craft, then I can only say thank you and feel blessed. Thanks for dropping by.
Love,
Tom B.
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