Sunday, 30 June 2013

My Office

Art deco shades,
IKEA's articulations
incandescent and halogen,
 my midnight suns

I tried to go paperless
but still the floor joists creak
beneath the bankers boxes
and steel cabinets

Poetry and history
row and stack the shelves
frustrating discovery
gathering dust and DVD's

Tropical bonsai and fresh cat grass
in a window tokonoma  
scrolled with haiku
 fertilized and watered daily

A wall of Scotian oils
memories of blind Father Sharpe
lobster boats, autumn lakes
 and liquorish allsort lighthouses

80's vintage furniture, melamine,
 faux grained government surplus,
crammed and littered;
collapsing slowly

Milk crates, filled with books
topped with laundry beneath
the rack of dressing gowns
pressing the door half open

An antique barometer
beside the Galileo thermometer
bettering the weather forecast
on the transistor radio

Pigeon holes for bric-a-brac
old coffee cups , the cactus
surviving in an iron disc
retired from harrowing the fields

Bottles, nails, and coal
a diver's history of pioneer trade;

medals, crystal statues, a bronze beaver:
awards for toil of 40 years

Urns of pet ashes,
old rods and reels,
carved fish and fishermen,
Billy Bass sings "take me to the river"

A black tower hums
against a bank of drives
hard with data and research
twin screens glow blue

Electronic keys beside the ink well
microfiche readers beside the scanner
speakers beside the printer
three telephones, a nest of wires

I love this mess
hide in it, compose in it
doze in it, dream in it.
instantly world-connected

From my leather chair.

Bryan D. Cook Ottawa  28 May 2013

 Context for My Office
At a Tree Seed Workshop , we were shown ways to stimulate our poetry with new ideas. One was to take a 360 degree look at familiar room and describe it in detail. I choose my  home office. The wall of Nova Scotian oils were painted by  Father Donald Sharpe, who lives in the Annapolis Valley beside the bay of Fundy and suffered for blindness for much of his life.

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