Best Tools Poems
Three days in - three days of school - and it’s like I never left.
In school, you can get oversaturated with screens. I like books.
They have a sense of permanence, they don’t glare back at you,
and I want something physical I can grip, markup and push off
the bed onto the floor when I get over it.
After three days of class, I’m asking (no one in particular), "Are we there yet?"
I can speed-read if I have a pointer - I use cocktail picks (swizzle sticks?) - you know, the little olive skewers you get in a martini? I have a collection from all over the world.
If I go to a bar and they have nice swizzle sticks, I’ll gather a few up. “What are you DOing,” Karen, (Lisa’s mom) asked me as I scarfed up several from patron’s empty glasses at the elegant, Refinery Rooftop bar in Manhattan.
“I have a TON of reading to do,” I explained, helpfully.
“Don’t even ask,” Lisa shrugged, rolling her eyes, when her mom looked confused.
The trick to speed reading is your eyes (and brain) pickup more than you realize and people tend to pronounce things, in their minds, as they read, which REALLY slows you down. So, you swivel the pointer down the page, following the pointer with your eyes, and Walla!
You can’t do THAT with a computer screen. You need a book, and when you have 2 or 3 hundred pages (or more) a night to read, you can’t just hold your breath and refuse - like a seven-year-old - can you? Seriously, I mean, can we? I’m asking - though it’s probably a little late (senior year).
Now, of course, not just any appetizer toothpick or fruit pick will do - the selection process can be rather byzantine. They must be a certain length, about 2 inches longer than my finger, so my hand doesn’t block the text, and square ones are the easiest to grip. Finally, if they have a little arrow-point on the tip? Well, that’s true love.
The problem is, I can get a little intense when reading and they tend to break. When my roommates hear me exclaim, “God DAMN it!” At 2am. They usually know why.
.
.
A song for this:
Easier Said Than Done by Thee Sacred Souls
All poems are unfinished
Only those in sonnet are finished
Completed, done, and terminated
A poem can still be edited
Revised, retouched and rewritten
A poem is a powerful tool or weapon
Leave alone my unfinished poems
These are my spices, my stars, my emblems
You don't understand their symbols
And the words used to fill up the bowls
You just have to read my poems ten times
To fully comprehend them. Ignore the rhymes
To pay more attention to the vernacular
They are not bizarre; they are just particular
They are not regular; they are unfinished
They are not strange, they are simple. Kabish!
Copyright © July 2019, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
Idle tools and Unlock
Shackles.
Gold line the
Streets of freedom
For the earth is finish
Built for our children,
But if disaster rise off
The sea and ruin the
Pyramids
Bring me my tools
And shackles,
Make me a slave again.
A man with a power-tool in his hand
I don’t care if it’s a drill,or something with which to sand.
Give him a power tool each and every day
Remove his shirt and oil him, that’s all that I can say.
He doesn’t need muscles that are rippling all about
Just a power tool gets me going, without a shadow of a doubt.
A walk up the street I see a man and his Kango hammer
It gets me all hot and dreamy, my words in a stammer.
Give him a drill I don’t care if it’s not plugged in
My heart misses a beat and he could make me sin.
So thanks to the gods that sent us power tools
Even if he can’t use them to me they are such jewels.
Power tools are sexy and I love them to bits
There’s a man across the road, and the tool pattern he fits.
He has a power drill on his shoulder, hedge cutters in his hand
I’ll finish this one later - I hope you’ll understand.
For nette's SEXY Competition
If my heart could be unveiled
In etchings on a canvas sky,
I would have to barter with the gods
for inks richly dyed,
ground saffron and vermilion, citrine and verdigris
could scarcely start to paint nuances of an exotic gypsy soul.
Could they read warm tones or cold,
looking in the heart's clear glass,
and formulate fresh colors to reveal emotion's tides;
create a new prism to divide the beaming spirit-spectrum light
and pierce the secret depths of me?
God gifts of light and power,
must formulate new tools to awaken mysteries,
break down barriers of mind,
disclosing a story line speaking only heart to heart
unwinding from a tantalizing spool.
Copyright, November 12, 2014
Faye Lanham Gibson
Ah, when men are men not mere fools
Then to be men means more than just
Dangling biological tools
Wise young women must hunt for clues
To find those few whom they may trust
Wise men who do not punt with fools
Care and crave those family jewels,
But palm them off if pawn you must,
Haggling the cost more handy tools
Don’t treat asses like they’re good mules
Asses get thrashed while mules stay trussed
Young women must know men from fools
Hearts and hands may both be cruel
Hard or soft likewise they may crush
Be wise: bad workers blame their tools
Beasts may prey, so may Beauty fool,
Betray their love, give in to lust…
Men and women may both be fools
Poor hearts, poor handling, blaming tools.
22/07/2016
To stick in the minds of their dearest readers,
poets will use rhymes as mnemonic tools.
This means they will just as easily be remembered
as great philosophers or fantastic fools.
for having a ultra hyper bright light
just for having the title of DOCTOR right
some presume they are smart
and be known for being LORD bart
actually are piece of zeitgeist sight...!
Cellulars are fun:
tools of communication
that help simply things.
Words are the tools of my trade
a carpenter choses to use wood
with which great things he makes
my choice will always be words
Just like an artist, a picture I make
instead of using paint, just like
a bricklayer lays bricks in line
I make lines by using only words
Words are the tools of my trade
an engineer works making an engine
each part he adds as he builds it up
yet with words I tell how its done
words are so powerful in what they convey
they cover such a range held back only by our
imaginations, that, which inspires our pens
to write and to hopefully enthrall the reader
A young Jane liked to observe, native birds and animals
making notes, sketches, and reading zoology and ethology
Her fascination of animal behavior, and their fundamentals
has taken her back in time, to work out their chronology
Jane Goodall for many years, lived among chimpanzees
to study the primates of Tanzania, in their natural habitat
immersing herself in their lives, and to help them to appease
by observing their actions, and becoming their diplomat
“Observing Chimps in Africa”, spending lots of time in trees
she imitated their behaviors, with a non-threatening pattern
that had limited murmurs, while not wanting to sneeze
and she started eating their food, as they accepted her intrusion
Two years of seeing them daily, the Chimp’s showed her no fear
when they started to approach her, in the search of bananas
The thinking of chimps as vegetarian, was a delusion of despair
as they were seen eating meat, and were nothing like Lammas
“Chimp Behavior Discoveries”, have given us some insights
about making tools out of plants, to spoon out and eat termites
Chimps have been seen, stalking, killing and eating animals
large insects, birds, baby baboons and other big mammals
Chimpanzee family structure, has dominant males at the top
and their complex social system, really helps then to develop
Their long-term family bonds, use touch and embraces to comfort
and a communicating method, a sound language that’s been taught
“Chimpanzee Family Book”, was written to educate children
with a learning tool, into saving the chimp’s struggling blight
and to protect their environment, without human development
because they are our descendants, an historic learning insight
“Seeds of Hope: Wisdom and Wonder from the Plants”
is what Jane advocates, for our ecological preservation
through the Jane Goodall Institute, with a few mini-grants
for her dedicated Wildlife Research, Education and Conservation
Jane Goodall’s book, “In the Shadow of Man”
is all about, our second most intelligent primate
discussing the chimpanzee’s treatment, from the human clan
and the captive moral dilemma, of abusing our historic mate
Jane Goodall, you are an amazing caring primate
who treats all life, as if you are, best mates
Acrophobics on a tight rope, one inch off the ground.
anticipated serendipity, the deaf can feel sound.
acutely apathetic, because anarchy rules!
abundant spiritual poverty, monkeys can use tools.
balanced insanity, becoming partially undone.
just when they think it's over, it has only just begun!
with apathetic interest and in my humble arrogant way.
i balance my own insanity, with a casual formality.
but, my heart is burning cold,
through colorless kaleidoscope.
because everything is lost,
since we gave up hope.
it's a comedic tragedy,
a Common abnormality.
what goes up, must surely fall.
and when it's mother on the line...
no one takes the call.
consistently inconsistent, with critical acclaim.
explicitly ambiguous, pretend you're not the same.
diminutive giants, diligent in our sloth.
cheerfully cynical, the authentic replica.
binging on moderation, are the charlatans of truth.
abundant spiritual poverty, monkeys can use tools.
please proceed with caution, it is dangerously safe.
if you're a deaf listener, something just might penetrate!
but use direct circumvention, from point A onto point B.
for doubting are believers, in divided unity!
The Joy of Shopping for Death Tools
Oh the shopping spree
what joy what glee
how natures all in harmony
The moon full
Round
the belly swells fertile ground
From the seed spurted within
Dig it up raze it destroy the divisions before they multiple-- unsanctity!
Cherry red ruby cheeked frail pale white. Dotted mottled maudlin girl
Golden glistening scintillating curls-- mocking me with life!
Once twice wrap round the bag
bag goes over the head goes down tie you up
your wrist are bound
tighten the belt crush the chest
Petechia flushing now bursting beauties
Bit by the hair o' the Burke
Snuffin the animate oh what furious work
That furry beast howls within an attractive glimmer in the eye as the eyes unite one soul slips to that unconsciousness black abyss of dreams
condensation obscures ruby cheeked whiteness
Exhilaration thrilling pumping life force
Yeah-- that what its all about...
When my daughter
tried to lint roll the cat
I laughed
And handed her a brush
Life is what you make it
Sometimes, you just need a different tool
To achieve your desired outcome.
Kale Brereton
Aug 5, 2018
the trowel sat next to the door
Waiting to join old familiar friends
In the worn canvas tool bag
It's shape not quite the same as new
Edges rounded on skim side
and slightly flattened on the other
From halving so many common bricks
The hard plastic handle was also worn
From constant spinning
Gathering shaking down movement
to ensure mortar held in twice smoothed strokes
The hammer lay beside it
rounded blade from constant cutting
Rounded head from broken blocks
with edges straight as factory ends
They lie together in memories
Of absent friends
and working days
Of building