Pickaxe – Poem for An Ineffective Tiller

20120417-105706.jpg

Pickaxe

There is that in me that delves in
pointless suffering–as in today
when I wake to an ache
in the small of my back.
The pickaxe–
yes, it had a point of sorts–a
sharpish wedge
of heavy edge–but did I really need
to bang it upon the ground
so many times?
The goal: to loosen earth
but I was so unsystematic
as to not give birth to anything but…
loose earth (not even one soft bed
ready for seed).

So it is
when I pick on you–
pick fights–pick piques–
Afterwards, the small
of my heart hurts, and I ache
to take all back.
Luckily for me, in our soft bed,
you know that.

 
******************************************************************
The above is my draft poem for the 17th day of National Poetry Month!
Explore posts in the same categories: poetry, Uncategorized

Tags: , , ,

You can comment below, or link to this permanent URL from your own site.

7 Comments on “Pickaxe – Poem for An Ineffective Tiller”

  1. hedgewitch's avatar hedgewitch Says:

    Very nice metaphor–as a gardener one I appreciate–and there is no harder work than swining a pick axe–except maybe swinging a pique-axe. But the good thing about crumbling soil is that its the first step.

    • hedgewitch's avatar hedgewitch Says:

      SWINGING, not swining! Though that’s a lovely verb one could use somewhere, I think. Forgive the tired fingers, K–been a long day.

    • ManicDdaily's avatar ManicDdaily Says:

      Hi Hedge! Didn’t mean to force your visit. Feeling exceedingly uninspired in my quest for daily poem today! K.

      • hedgewitch's avatar hedgewitch Says:

        Not at all–was out all day so did my normal rounds late.I enjoyed this one. Hey, when all else fails, there’s always micropoetry. I thought of the phrase ‘swined and dined her’ after my typo–feel free to use it. ;_)

  2. ManicDdaily's avatar ManicDdaily Says:

    Ha! Very clever. My mind immediately turned it into a much grosser variation! Could be pretty funny though. Hmmm…..

  3. Ravenblack's avatar Ravenblack Says:

    I hate to admit it but sometimes I need to learn to stop digging for trouble and picking at things to be unhappy. After all the picking, the pain ends up on me. I think this poem touches on that very well. A good write, K.


I'd love to hear from you!

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.


Why are you reporting this comment?

Report type