First woodwork lesson in my new school.
Mr Woodiwiss - apt name! - is asking
What would you would like to make?
An execution block, I say.
(The block is for my Uncle Bill.)
Reputation would suggest
sir should roar displeasure,
vault the bench perhaps,
throw something my direction.
he does not even take exception,
sits talking ways and means with me.
A word of explanation:
why an execution block for Uncle Bill?
To help him with his Christmas role:
The Lord High Executioner of Turkeys on the lawn.
And he comes THIS close to using it
(My thumb and forefinger
all but touch. I hold them up.)
Dark night. The only light
streams from the bathroom window.
The turkey's neck is on the block,
the hatchet raised
the light goes out.
The pitch-dark night
turns lighter shades of blue
as Uncle's language spills into it.
But Uncle Bill's performance
more disappointing one.
extract from the poem Koi by John Burnside All afternoon we've wandered from the pool to alpine beds and roses ...
The moon petals the sea. Rose petals the sea. Stone sea. Stone petals. Rose petals of stone. Stone rising before me. Sea moves. How moves...
It all depends, you see, how you go about it. And that I cannot tell you, for that will be dictated by you and by you knowing your friends...
Hello everyone who follows David King (My Father). On behalf of the family this post is to let you know that Dad sadly passed away, peacefu...
This post has in a sense been handed to me by two or three responses to my post On not getting it. In the course of discussing how a reader...
Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)
Very spooky imagery indeed :-).
Liked that - especially the story-telling with light, but deft, brush-strokes.
What a splendid story,beautifully told
Beautiful Chrismas present, the block and the dream of a boy. And the reality for him...
Oh, I wonder why sir was disappointing, he sat and listened didn't he? I think that's called "entering into the child's world" isn't it. :D
An excellent tale, perfectly chopped and minimalist.
That was a macabre tale, quick and painless... well, almost.
This tale gave me the chills. I don't like to think too much about what turkeys endure!
I thought at first that your uncle had wronged you.....
What an apt name for your teacher.
Love the look of your blog --haven't visited for a while.
Funny about the teacher's name - I wonder if that pushed him towards his vocation.
Grisly Dave but at least it is a turkey not a human!
I think this is very funny, am I the only one?
I also think the Magpie funny; do you think I have a warped sense of humour?
PS: I can read your blog with ease now.
You are such a great story-teller in your poetry, Dave. Really enjoyable - and the details! Loved the use of parentheses, too.
i have watched the chickens neck wrung...def dont think i could work in a turkey factory...nice story telling man...
Sir was having you on, Dave
Aloha from Honolulu
> < } } ( ° >
< ° ) } } > <
calling your bluff, as it were.
thanks for sharing your holiday memory
Aloha from Honolulu
> < } } ( ° >
< ° ) } } > <
Great Christmas poem :-)
Very entertaining! I love the ending.
LOL! Very funny!
All true. Didn't seem spooky at the time, but I can see why you might think that.
Thanks. Very satisfying to hear that.
Also very satisfying to hear. Much thanks.
Not sure Uncle Bill fully appreciated it all!
Well, the choice of the block was made partly with Uncle Bill in mind, and partly - mayb e mostly - to get a reaction from Mr Woodiwiss, which in the event didn't materialise. Uncle Bill obliged in lieu of, though!
Thank you, a very pleasing comment.
Almost quick, or almost painless? Thanks for commenting.
Point taken. It didn't bother me back then, though.
Yes, I must admit that it was a deliberately bum clue I left at the beginning of the poem.
Yes, I often wonder that when I come across apt names - and that does seem to happen very frequently. The best one I ever came across was a large houe near where we used to live. It had a brass plate on the gate.
Mr Pulman : Gynaecologist
Mr Wombwell : Dentist
At the end of my first year, though, Mr Woodiwiss dropped woodwork and worked exclusively in plastics, so I don't know what we could make of that.
The Weaver of Grass
True. Thank the Lord for small mercies!
No, there's me. I thought it funny. It's worn a bit thin for me now, though. Cheering to hear that you find it so.
Many thanks for this. Very kind of you to say so.
I'm with you, there. I certainly couldn't do it. I don't think any of my immediate family could have, which is why Uncle Bill (great Uncle, in point of fact) was conscripted, I guess.
Yup, guess so, but then I was trying to have him on!
Yeah, I maybe should have kept it for Christmas.
Hi. Welcome to the blog. Thank you for your comment. Good to gear you liked it.
Thank you for saying so. Good to hear.
Great story--love the blue night and blue language!
Thank you for saying so specifically. Much appreciated.
Post a Comment