Cumbersome Lumber

O this feeling:
woe in my gut.
I lay and lurch in
twilight, thy rut

I am a carpenter, steadfast to plane
any wood with purpose.
Though I sit with my calm chisel,
my hands are nervous.

They shake and wane
on this cabinet I frame.
They splinter in vein.
O sawdust of bane.

Let me uproot, I dream.
Fling me unto any other forest!
My leaves and stems scream
and dry out about abhorrence.

I gallop into the forest,
in a divining spree.
I am the vagabond,
wandering and free.

With the might of my spirit,
I glow in a violet light.
My hands becometh torches.
I set fire to the wild night.

I destroy all the cabinets,
And the timbre of future works.
I employ all my sadness
And the happiness which hurts.

Guilt, greed, and listlessness,
Smoke out from above the flame.
The charcoal clouds sip, up high,
On the burning, purging game.

Begone O workshop,
O wilderness of yesteryear.
Burn, burn in the fuel feeling
and extirpate my fear.

Look around my ousted grounds,
I see not a twig in sight.
Acorns went unto ashes,
the steel tools are burning bright.

The sun splits through
two window shades.
The night is done,
the cabinet's unmade.

Catharsis becometh the day.
I cough, and let out
a sigh.
Alas metamorphic dismay.
The cocoon crumbles,
goodbye.

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

be a shame not to leave anything we made behind...i like the metaphor here...i liken it to a couple things, one being the advancement of how poets build poems with their words...blessed with the tools, but then come to some errant conclusion it is all meaningless...and they burn their works...a big bonfire of
no self-confidence that their works are worthwhile...thus leaving much that was made, unmade.

but i also see that cocoon we wrap around us because of past hurt...and we refuse to build new relationships because of it...and what could have been made with love, remains just pieces not put together.

j.

[Dalton]

Wow, I'm very happy to have and have read your review. I have a new perspective on the meaning of this piece.
Also, I'll return back to this review to meditate on your findings.
Dalton

[Sami Khalil]

Lots of things to absorb. An excellent poem...

[Sami Khalil]

"Guilt, greed, and listlessness,
Smoke out from above the flame.
The charcoal clouds sip, up high,
On the burning, purging game."

[Sami Khalil]

"With the might of my spirit,
I glow in a violet light.
My hands becometh torches.
I set fire to the wild night."