Tuesday, May 30, 2017

Original Poem Post 4 - "The Sculptor"

At last. This four day succession of "original poem posts" is finally concluding. (I'm getting worn out myself). Here you go.


the sculptor
arched his back and strained his neck
as he glanced
over his subject

without breaking his line of sight
he concentrated
and reached for his chisel
resting on the table beside him

he scraped at the stone
prying away layer after layer
as if etching onto its soul
the soul of another

as loose rocks and pebbles showered
down upon his shins
bubbling red rivers streamed across leg
yet he did not look

gingerly mixing the dirt
on his hands
with the seeping maroon
on his shins

rubbing more vigorously
so that the two substances combined
he brushed the sculpture
with the dull paste

splattering red
onto the face of the sculpture
and streaking red
on the sculpture’s abdomen and hands and feet

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