#timber - Hello Poetry

timber down falls the old growth to be cut to pieces tumbles dropped into the ropes draped towering, it is now laid to rest down the forest floor becomes a new bed dread before, what comes next

0

Apr 26, 2021

Apr 26, 2021 at 10:17 PM UTC

manx-kronos-pragna

Geese Fly South

timber down falls the old growth to be cut to pieces tumbles dropped into the ropes draped towering, it is now laid to rest down the forest floor becomes a new bed dread before, what comes next

9

Look down. There’s a whole world below, dug out and timber-framed, mapped and named. Its tunnels stretch for miles under the mountain. Once it shook with blasting, screech of train, and whistles. The coal was iridescent blue. Headlights on a curved track burst like shooting stars out of the deep. That mirror world is dark now. The men laid down their tools, and took the mantrip to the surface, home. In the quiet, hear the mountain sigh.

0

Aug 1, 2019

Aug 1, 2019 at 8:09 PM UTC

wrens_musings

Canmore Verse

Look down. There’s a whole world below, dug out and timber-framed, mapped and named. Its tunnels stretch for miles under the mountain. Once it shook with blasting, screech of train, and whistles. The coal was iridescent blue. Headlights on a curved track burst like shooting stars out of the deep. That mirror world is dark now. The men laid down their tools, and took the mantrip to the surface, home. In the quiet, hear the mountain sigh.

18

*I wander alongside aimlessly Floating down a path like a half of chaff Wondering what it means to be As tall as the ivory hickories To be as weightless as the leaves Or lost within the present pause Where I am more often than not Considered to be me As I stop myself and start again In wonderment of what I find Alone in this and thought amiss I disconnect myself from the moderneness And find myself here standing out Tall and alone amongst the trees In place where I need not create The peace of mind which I do seek*

0

Mar 20, 2017

Mar 20, 2017 at 11:31 AM UTC

colmistoirm

Timber Adrift

*I wander alongside aimlessly Floating down a path like a half of chaff Wondering what it means to be As tall as the ivory hickories To be as weightless as the leaves Or lost within the present pause Where I am more often than not Considered to be me As I stop myself and start again In wonderment of what I find Alone in this and thought amiss I disconnect myself from the moderneness And find myself here standing out Tall and alone amongst the trees In place where I need not create The peace of mind which I do seek*

16

O' bitter timber Set there--his limber And blighted eyes. Thou old timer Belched in ember, Set to keep my eyes. Midst shallow December And falling November come forth your rise of notorious power In the last man's hour his splinters shall rise

0

Jan 10, 2017

Jan 10, 2017 at 1:02 PM UTC

jesse-ramon-claudio

Timber

O' bitter timber Set there--his limber And blighted eyes. Thou old timer Belched in ember, Set to keep my eyes. Midst shallow December And falling November come forth your rise of notorious power In the last man's hour his splinters shall rise

12

At this deep pool Where no light is reflected, Where small birds come Clinging to the vine Amongst fallen logs and silences, The crush of leaves and the rot of years. At this dark edge Where now unassailable trees tower In a brief clearing, At this still centre where the wreckage lies Of river's breach and storm's rage. Here at the heart. Where once the workings of long-ago men, The wild, roaring, toothless ones, Desperate and dislocated, Their fierce eyes blazing through dark, And bodies by day burning through timber, Cut sunlight in shadow And nation in nature.

0

Mar 20, 2016

Mar 20, 2016 at 3:26 PM UTC

bill-higham

The Timber Getters

At this deep pool Where no light is reflected, Where small birds come Clinging to the vine Amongst fallen logs and silences, The crush of leaves and the rot of years. At this dark edge Where now unassailable trees tower In a brief clearing, At this still centre where the wreckage lies Of river's breach and storm's rage. Here at the heart. Where once the workings of long-ago men, The wild, roaring, toothless ones, Desperate and dislocated, Their fierce eyes blazing through dark, And bodies by day burning through timber, Cut sunlight in shadow And nation in nature.

19