The next poem I shall post here from Heres and Nows is called The workshed.
I shall post the whole next week. If you like it, use the link top right of this page to order a copy of the book from Amazon, maybe for a present for a friend. Or put it on your own Amazon wish list.
The poem begins,
Please come – do tread upon my road.
Let pass,
Lay on its side the deadly glass
Here mark time running in my blood.
The deadly glass I take to be the hourglass marking our mechanical time.
It's an invitation to follow the poet David into his workshop. He made other things there, too – clay sculptures, paintings, wood carvings.
A workshed is a place where you go to be yourself, to think and make whatever you want. If we don't have a real shed we can still make one within – the sanctuary from where the comings and goings of the world do not affect us. Montaigne said one should always have a room where no-one else goes.
To be asked to follow into the workshed is therefore an invitation of the closest friendship, something not ordinarily risked.
Compare these lines from another of David's poems, A piece of the maine?:
Go to another man and show him –
"This I've just written, tell me what you think."
He'll say "Oh yes, how nice" and take the scrip
To use the eyes and hide the doubtful lip.
Later in The workshed is this line:
This workshed is the place. Come in.
and this:
...I only want to show
The poetry of things which by hands grow
Out of the dead wood new life win.
More next week.
I shall post the whole next week. If you like it, use the link top right of this page to order a copy of the book from Amazon, maybe for a present for a friend. Or put it on your own Amazon wish list.
The poem begins,
Please come – do tread upon my road.
Let pass,
Lay on its side the deadly glass
Here mark time running in my blood.
The deadly glass I take to be the hourglass marking our mechanical time.
It's an invitation to follow the poet David into his workshop. He made other things there, too – clay sculptures, paintings, wood carvings.
A workshed is a place where you go to be yourself, to think and make whatever you want. If we don't have a real shed we can still make one within – the sanctuary from where the comings and goings of the world do not affect us. Montaigne said one should always have a room where no-one else goes.
To be asked to follow into the workshed is therefore an invitation of the closest friendship, something not ordinarily risked.
Compare these lines from another of David's poems, A piece of the maine?:
Go to another man and show him –
"This I've just written, tell me what you think."
He'll say "Oh yes, how nice" and take the scrip
To use the eyes and hide the doubtful lip.
Later in The workshed is this line:
This workshed is the place. Come in.
and this:
...I only want to show
The poetry of things which by hands grow
Out of the dead wood new life win.
More next week.
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