The Wood Poems

I'm a Hatchet

1.
I chop down
trees
to make books.

Some call me
a Murderer
Others call me a
Life Giver.

What if I'm both?
Then set me ablaze
on a bed
of my books

as I sleep
unaware of my crimes
and my gifts.

2.

For we do not know
what we are
until we are
Done
and Finished.

I am a Murderer
I am a Life Giver.

So says the Hatchet
Not the Tree:

3.

I am the giver of Life
As I stand
I'm the Giver of Life
Here I lie
giving of life
no matter my state.

I am the tree
Because of the Hatchet
whose handle is Me.

04 October 2020, 2:11am

Lumber's Calling

At first,
I will whisper
Second,
I will speak softly
Then I will converse
normally
You should hear me by now
normally
but you still don't
I raise my voice
your attention remains
out there
some where
I think about shouting

You hear my thoughts
but this one misses
you
even though I am all
but your thoughts
and your thoughts, too
now I'm lost
in the two of us

So I shout
and shout again
now I'm loud as thunder
and you continue to hear
not us

or me, so it is here, for you
I am left no other door
to reach you
but the two-by-four.

PS I'm sorry. Signed: God (capital 'g')

18 August 2020, 10:22 - 10:24am