Whittening


from the ABC set Camera Obscura

Whittening (i)

Back, forth, round,
back, forth, round,
back, forth, round.

Sharper than you have ever been
almost unseemly, a return to ride
my spine; raised to grate against,
not with, your cutting edge.

Stung with sweat, calcified rasp,
vertebrae fused as impenetrable
range; Pennine backbone stands,
proud, to your need.

Back, forth, round,
back, forth, round,
back, forth, round.

Grindstone (ii)

Dry whistle, wheeze, through grit caked teeth,
parched tongues, grey lungs sang a quarryman's span.

Cisterns, troughs, held promise of water,
flags, for new Parliament, caps for a post.

Sea trade flakes of skin and sputum,
grindstones crushed far more than corn.

Blade city, built with sweat, sand stone,
birthed on the edge of a tool pouch bulge.

Sagacity gleams, in fine shined dining,
polished on backs, hunched, sharp, poor.

Ashlar faced, coarse hands are the whetstones;
Freestone's grade, hewn in life's cost.

Back, forth, round,
back, forth, round,
back, forth, round.

Art of cooking (iii)

Whetstone ground, rasped, in smooth small circles;
you taught us how to hone a sliver of hate to a glint.

Slip point 'twixt gristle and bone as hen's bane;
soft pressure bares pearlescent sheathed flesh.

We, Tulp's kitchen pupils, table pressed, crane
a view, then You, twist, pull, grey sinews stretched

as silly-string; a nick, amputate at the spur, free.
Now claw and squabble for the prize; ochre scaled

capons foot marionette plaything; spoils
for patient attention at the anatomy class.

Back, forth, round,
back, forth, round,
back, forth, round.

=================================
minor edit 06.05.10
=================================

Words from stone YSP 04.10
extra sources:

http://chestofbooks.com/home-improvement/workshop/Turning-Mechanical/Gri...

http://www.wickersleyweb.co.uk/hist/quarry.htm

The Anatomy Lesson of Dr. Nicolaes Tulp, 1632, Rembrandt Van Rijn
http://z.about.com/d/arthistory/1/0/z/W/dp_ngl_0707_07.jpg

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Comments

MistakenMagic | April 24, 2010 - 22:33

'Dry whistle, wheeze, through grit caked teeth,
parched tongues, grey lungs sang a quarryman's span.'

- really love these lines! The whole poem has a wonderful lyrical quality and I love the structure with the refrain of:

'Back, forth, round,
back, forth, round,
back, forth, round.'

Magic xxx

lenchenelf | April 25, 2010 - 19:34

Thanks so Magic atb Lena xx