hang it on the wall
the last thing before she sleeps
first when you waken
Chair, Pocket Knife, Guitar
The slatted folding chair you sat upon,
The scantlings and ad hoc stuff of that playroom
You screened out as you just rocked on and on
In perfect time before the television,
To-day let all that tick-tock bric-a-brac
Come like a drumstick stick-man rolling home.
The one-blade pocket knife you coveted
In a shop window that first evening in France
And I bought then on the spot in thanksgiving
For us just being there: although it’s lost
I stand like a glad Macbeth faced with its ghost
Handle towards my hand, saying, ‘Thank, thank God’.
The guitar you got the day you started school
And were photographed with, up on the picnic table,
Play it again to-day, fierce Andalucian
Serenades and country wedding songs,
Then hang it on the wall, your true love’s token,
Last thing before she sleeps, first when you waken.
Unpublished poem by Seamus Heaney to be released on October 9th.
The reviewer in the Guardian writes:
Unlike other unpublished poems, some of which had tens of pages of drafts, there seems to be just one version of Chair, Pocket Knife, Guitar in existence. Heaney may have had more focus writing the poem because it was for an occasion, said Hollis. “It seems to have arrived with confidence, with force, and with purity of heart.”
From the article: Seamus Heaney’s unpublished poems to be released — read one exclusively here by Ella Creamer.
The slatted folding chair you sat upon
The one-blade pocket knife you coveted
The guitar you got the day you started school
Your true love’s token
Then hang it on the wall
Last thing before she sleeps
First when you waken
It seems to have arrived with confidence, with force, and with purity of heart.
I still like to wear a wristwatch.
I like to wear it on the inside of my wrist instead of the outside.
A longtime ago somewhere I read that wristwatches were designed during World War 1 so officers in the trenches didn’t have to pull out a pocket watch to check the time.
It was learned to wear the watch on the inside to protect the crystal.
Years later I read that Ronald Reagan also wore his wristwatch on the inside.
When asked, he said the had worn his watch that way since the days he had been an announcer on Radio and wearing the watch on the inside allowed him to check the time while holding a script.
Standard practice for folks onair back in the day.
The one I wear now was a gift from my wife on the occasion of our 25th Wedding anniversary.
It’s one of those self winding watches that winds itself as I swing my arm.
I like to say if my watch isn’t running, I must be dead.
Of late it hasn’t been running so well.
Admittedly, working at a computer all day, I don’t get much opportunity to swing my arms.
But last Christmas my wife bought me a self winding watch winder.
It’s a little box with a spinner in it.
I set my watch in there overnight and the spinner spins every once in a while to keep it wound.
My wife also suggested it’s time for a new watch.
Something I resist vehemently.
Just needs a good cleaning, I say.
See, it was a gift from my wife on out 25th anniversary.
For me, it’s my true love’s token.
I hang it on my wrist.
Last thing before she sleeps.
First when I waken.
It seems to have arrived with confidence, with force, and with purity of heart.
No Haiku For You 