Overlooked
How immemorable, he thinks,
drilling into the wall.
Another hole, another day.
Fill them, and still others
beg creation.
Say mouth. Say void,
followed by tongue and burden,
by orifice and bland. Say
invisible. Empty. Say forget.
That we plan is given.
But who writes the manual
to our lives? The hammer
does not shiver at the thought
of itself. Take this board
and remove only that portion
the screw will occupy.
Level the hook. Admire
the work. Adjust.
Do this twice.
“Overlooked” was published in Mantle in August 2017.
O at the Edges 
This poem invites one to look at oneself in a different light, especially these lines:
“That we plan is given.
But who writes the manual
to our lives? The hammer
does not shiver at the thought
of itself. Take this board
and remove only that portion
the screw will occupy.”
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Another look at the mundane, which seems to me not so mundane after all. 🙂
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I think we can be amazed at how not mundane things are when we think they are. 😊
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Yep. All we need to do is look!
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True.
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Writing and editing.
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Yep.
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It’s interesting to consider that there must be something that drives the making and/or being of *void*. Is this *something* the thing that makes it all seem to have a purpose? And does it matter whether or not we can differentiate between this seeming and actual purpose? If memory serves, I believe Heidegger tried to assign a degree of mattering to the ontology of “being” as relates to human existence, by equating our “Dasein” (literally, our being there, present) with the concept of Care, which is how I read your last lines: “Admire / the work. Adjust. / Do this twice.” What is at stake is that you, Poet, cannot simply “overlook” the tenuousness of being in the face of nothing. One must, indeed, *care* an awful lot to bore one’s way again and again into the nothing in effort to have something to show for it. The beautiful and vital somethings you make, make us feel like we matter. It is a seeming that’s synonymous with purpose, and one for which I’m grateful, at that.
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Life, being, is nothing if not repetition, and what we find in that repetition, likely mundane and nearly beneath notice, of course offers much. The little things aren’t so little when we open our eyes.
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take the time to look more closely. there is always more to something. wonderful poem, robert
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Thank you, Beth. We must keep looking!
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This demands several looks
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Look over, but don’t overlook. 😀
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🙂
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This is so brilliant!
Now, I may see drilling hole and hammer differently! LOL
Love this!
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Thank you, Sherrie. The ordinary is extraordinary!
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You peeked into my life through your thoughts, and wrote the story of what causes the sprinkle of tears into my eyes, as the robot within me yearns for a different programming.
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I think we all occasionally long for a little “reboot,” Kimberly. I’m pleased this resonated for you.
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Robert, I’d like a REBUILD. LOL
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Ha!
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🤪
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