Testing the product called life.

Testing the product called life.

Sweep away the sawdust in his head (poems)

Somewhere in those hundreds of little rooms (poems)

There must be the ingredients loco citato poems and such?

That magic lantern which surfaced will shed some light?

It is impossible to say what will emerge

But sure as God made little apples

There will be enough to fill a page.

It may be obtuse indeed almost ridiculous

Yet something will be written

With thousands of sordid images floating about

How could he avoid but scribble something.

Time was of the essence, for no one not even he knows

When the “after dark sleep”(i) will visit.

This first day of summer – a raw day

Behind shut doors the rhythm of the scythe

Cutting words down to size.

Life, friends, could be boring

Call on those inner resources

Love people, love life.

Meet that invisible wall head on

Clamber over it, start again.

© Chris Black.

Poetry from The Man Shed

29^th March 2020

~The Poet’s Poet~

“Death”(i) from Shakespeare’s “Measure for Measure”