Mr. Tinker

Every day and even nights, it is ever the same. He suffers continual noises from the neighbor living in the apartment above his. For reasons unknown to him, of course, the man hammers incessantly. But why? Seemingly, something needs fixing but every day?

Recently, moving into the new apartment: Farley hopes for quietude, noises of every type abhor him, he is a silent man and prefers to be left alone. The things closet to Farley, the things he loves most are his books, writing, a good movie and lest I fail to mention, thinking. This man is a throwback, someone who appreciates the simpler things in life, what is more simple than peace and quiet?

Naturally, and almost immediately, Farley learns that quietude is better found elsewhere and not at his domain. On the fun side and because he writes, Farley re-shapes misfortunes; a man with little, he creates his worlds on the page. Writing is the angel that blesses him, and even saves Farley from himself. He often says, “Sometimes the most ugly is the most beautiful.” (c)

In that mindset, Farley unwraps and then re-wraps the unthinkable; and this ability grounds him, keeps him whole; and, in a world where the old ways have lessened, writing provides the man hope. It is to this hope that Farley dedicates, “Mr. Tinker.”


Oh, why  must you hammer;
and please never saw
Really? You are building
something without flaw?

Daily, the pounding;
and, then room to room
Like a carpenter’s coffin,
or a mummy less tomb

But what are you building;
and, why must I know
If asked, would you tell me,
or demand that I go!

Please, Mr. Tinker;
and, for my goodness sake;
perhaps, to stop pounding:
your hammer to break

Nails I hear falling;
and, chairs loudly scream;
your angelic nightmare,
my ghoulish dream

What is so imminent,
these tasks that you do?
Constructing a great wall,
building a shoe?

During the wee hours,
the hammering is near;
your tinkering love song,
my pillow to hear?

Comes morning and early
Once more is your sound
Better without hearing
The hammering abounds

So how do I end
this weary campaign;
Mr. Tinker, one day
without your nails in my name.
Copyright (c) 2015 Delbert H. Rhodes

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