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JoeC's original poetry and photos about life and all things under the sun.

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Thursday, August 5, 2021

 



I've carried a Swiss army knife
in my front trouser pocket
a gift my dead father gave me
a ready reliable tool for life
many long years ago
astride my steady roan horse
appropriately named Rocket
riding bareback and racing
I lost that useful multi-bladed knife
while galloping down a back road rocky place
tracing back I came across it
run over by at least one careless car tire
that knife suffered but a tiny clean chip
marking the fiery red grip of that tool
surviving the crush and pummel of that auto load
I've put that treasured knife to use
continuously over all these many years
shaving and whittling beside countless campfires
marveling at how those shiny points and blades
made such a lasting steely impression
that sturdy useful jack knife tool
tactfully impressed upon me
so many lasting expressions
deep depressions tools mark us with
some tools slice and dice
others carve out our plural will
those ones are worthy and nice
some overtly screw and drill
secret agents use them
there are those that act covertly
creating upending suppression
slicing into segmented cultures
deploying subversive political ways
such oppressive art that rips and frays
tearing at the very fabric of human kind
art and those other intentionalists
Renoir Manet Pissaro and Matisse if I must remind
expressive impressionists
revealing a similar overt mind
tools in hand they painted
ballet dancers and relaxed strolling tourists
standing by those popular Parisienne places
sporting portable easels and their narrow brushes
myriads of messy tubes of garish oil
painting colourful dresses with cosmetic faces
but then those heedless critical remarks
drew countless needless flushes
flashes from a post age of enlightenment past
a neo-remarkable cast of modernistic painters
embarking into my neo-fodder dream
I am carrying another odd old tool
my lengthy well-used sharpened drawknife
brandishing that double wooden handled blade
I'm hurrying along through busy rooms and hallways
moving quickly from the third floor
sprinting echoing stairwells down to the first
again and again opening closed doors
I'm searching for something
those many things that have been stripped away
I'm experiencing some great gripping thirst
someone has stolen my valuable things
I'm asking everyone I meet
but no one honestly knows or courageously admits
I can't find any connective strings
I'm feeling flustered and a bit confused
not knowing or understanding those I greet
why has this distressing action occurred
what faction would steal my uninsured tools
my favourite worn jeans and fractured work shirt
those shoes with traction I so preferred
I'm traveling from one floor to the next
searching and searching
up and down those dim halls I'm lurching
around and around and around
wandering this busy fractioned mall
I'm feeling quite unsound and vexed
asking here and inquiring there
looking in every empty cupboard
reading posters fixed on textile walls
obscure impressionist pictures
exhibiting bold overboard text
I'm glancing behind every unlocked door
still nothing I have lost can be found
unexpectedly it dawns on me
as I reflect then turn around
suddenly it is all so profound
I am searching for myself
looking for my lost wandering soul
meteorically I realize I've strayed
God is waiting nearby to flay me
skin me alive and turn my insides out
revealing my whole inner self
that hidden being which is my very soul
but I don't feel contented about this rout
upon discovery I clench my fists and shout
knowing what this result is all about
all that divinity and omniscient being
truly wants to eat us all alive
if we ever somehow find or see God
we'll know the end is truly near
with that sacred deliverance
God will devour us whole one by one
like green peas ripped from a stripped open pea pod
all our reverence and earthly fears
will have been for nothing
that will become finitely clear
as the one contrite true God
will frightfully stop at nothing
rightfully shed not one tear
inhibit universal light
neither blessed prayer
nor mystical word
can ever rightly save us
love does not need reasoning
true love demands surrendering
cannibalize this entire human herd
neither exploit any flaked blade or forged tools
divine nature shall speak one final holy word
God will have us as a final goal
shall celebrate finial spires and us unworthy fools
rigidly feast on every bleeding heart and unkempt soul
 

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