LumberJock Poem, Need help

May my lumber stay dry

-- ..... art for lifes sake

May my circular saw be sharp
My chislels finely honed
My screwdrivers tidy in a row
My power tools never loaned.

May my cases always be square
My level always be true
My joints never split
My applicator bottles always be full of glue

:) I never was very good poet but I could not resist giving it a try.

CtL

-- Chris L. "Don't Dream it, Be it."

Great. keep them coming.

-- Karson Southern Delaware karson_morrison@bigfoot.com

May my fuses never be blown

-- ..... art for lifes sake

Tune your plane
and hone your chisel
Don’t use electric tools
When it starts to drizzle

Make sure your mortise
has a tenon mate

And when you finish
with your table saw
your thumbs number two
and fingers number eight

-- You get no points when you punt

May my clamps always hold true

-- ..... art for lifes sake

May my wife and kids be gone ALLLLLLL weekend long…
And then home in time to see my new finish…

-- Matt, Napa, CA...177 days to sanity...

zip-e-dee-doo-dah … hmmm that doesn’t fit

-- ..... art for lifes sake

dan what is that???

-- Matt, Napa, CA...177 days to sanity...

I’m a Lumberjock and i’m OK
sleep at night and work all day
saws are sharp and cuts are true
joints so good you hardly need glue
lines are straight and angles spot on
spit out projects by the tonne
have many new buddies all over the globe
wish we had wood by the truck load

-- Grumpy - "Always look on the bright side of life"- Monty Python

May your spare square remain square.

-- Gary, East TX -- The longest journey begins with a single step.

In one hand birdseye veneer,
in the other hand the chisel—
Fearful instrument, the chisel;
And Marcosset and Sumpunkin,
Kissed him, ‘cause he skinned the maple,
‘Cause it was a rather big one.
From the – mapleskin, Hiawatha
Made some boxes for his suiters,
Boxes with the bird-side inside,
With the bird-side next the Jewel-side
So’s to keep the Jewels cool inside;
That was why he put the bird-side—
Why he put the bird-side, inside.

-- Scott - Chico California http://chicowoodnut.home.comcast.net

As the hours pass by
And the sawdust clears
From out of a plank
A piece of furniture appears.

As I stand back amazed
Wasn’t sure if I could.
It was my two hands
That breathed life into wood.

This drive, this desire
This need to create,
Just one more cut,
For the hour is late.

Father, thank you for the blessings
And the talents you gave
And for keeping me safe
As I play with blades.

-- Anchul - Warrensburg, MO: As a Pastor, I am just trying to get closer to Jesus. He was a woodworker too.

Well a poet I’m not and I do know it but down below I hope I didn’t blow it.

Lord I give my saw for you to take Sharpen well so woods don’t break
For all I do for thee I make The wood you bore for all our sake.
Lord teach me not to holler shake When splinters come my hands will take
The spikes you took your hands did shape A cup of blood we all partake.

-- Rich, Nevada,

There’s
Lumber here, And Lumber there
There’s got to be a project somewhere

Off to the shop
To rip and chop
I continue my quest
To be a Lumber-Jock

Cut to Size and Sand to Fit
Almost ready to post the Pics

One more trip into cyberspace
I’ll post some images
Of the things we create

Kudos and Comments
From my friends abound
Thanks to all the Lumber-Jocks
The world around.

-- Even the best of men relish a little spice every now and then... HG Somers, circa 1905

Fantastic words. Poets all.

There has got to be lots more.

-- Karson Southern Delaware karson_morrison@bigfoot.com

There once was a Lumberjock named Karson.
This fellow was a very nice parson. (Irish accent, of course…)
We traded some pens
And he added blanks in
Let’s hope they don’t fall prey to arson!
~-~
Make a box I must
Hand-cut dovetails are no fun
Hand me that Leigh jig

-- Tim D. - Woodstock, GA

Thank you Lord, You’re such a Jewel
For keeping me safe as I work with tools

Trouble comes and trouble flees,
because You, O’Lord are always with me.

Now that I’m safe, a miracle I ask
allow no project to be a hard task

With nice grain and no knots
turn me into a LumberJock… :-)

-- As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another. (Proverbs 27:17)

May my finish never run

-- ..... art for lifes sake

When the sun comes up on a Saturday
You’ll find me out in the shop
Feeding my latest addiction
It’s one I just can’t seem to stop

The wood smells so good when I cut it
Even better than coffee and toast
So I don’t even think about breakfast
While I’m doing what I love to do most

The cry of my saw splits the silence
My neighbors must love me, I’m sure
But if they don’t want to see me go postal
It’s a torture they just must endure

For working with wood seems to calm me
The day to day grind slips away
It’s just me and the tools and the lumber
And nothing can screw up my day

Except for that misaligned fence
And the board that I just cut too short
And the glue-up that strayed from the pipe clamps I made
Titebond squeezing out by the quart

And my chisel is chipped, and the screwdriver slipped
gouging my just-finished box
If I don’t get the grass cut by sundown
My marriage will be on the rocks

And the bandsaw blade broke on an old piece of oak
My sander eats belts by the score
The jigsaw my grandfather gave me
Won’t cut a straight line anymore

Yes there’s nothing that’s quite so relaxing
As putting my skills to the test
But thank God it soon will be Monday
I can go to the office and rest!

-- Charlie M. "Woodworking - patience = firewood"

May your saw cut true
Your chisel chop with might
Your fractions be right
and you just might
have ten fingers when your though

-- //FC - Round Rock, TX - "Experience is what you get just after you need it"

I entered the shop
and picked up a brush;
painting was the goal of the day;
Then voices I heard
And sobbing as well
“Don’t do it” I heard them pray.

So I put down the brush
And caressed the bare wood
Remembering the words of the wise
“never, ever paint walnut”
“A sin it would be” –
Words from the LumberJock guys.

-- "Functional WoodArt" by Debbie, Canada (http://www.execulink.com/~yohan)

MsDebbie is learning. :^)

-- If we learn from our mistakes, I'm getting a fantastic education.

MsDeb came in to inspect a shop,
instead she got caught
in an extension reel
oh what a heel

-- //FC - Round Rock, TX - "Experience is what you get just after you need it"

after several months of chastising – I’d better be learning!! lol

-- "Functional WoodArt" by Debbie, Canada (http://www.execulink.com/~yohan)

”The Carpenter”
a poem by G.E. Nordell

There was once a master carpenter
and he lived a good life
for he loved to work, building things of wood.
He was loved by his family,
by his sons and his daughter,
and especially by his wife.
He was loved by everyone who knew him.
And at the end of that good life
when it came time for him to die
the old carpenter soared
into the white light of death –
for the white light is where the good souls go to.

And the white light warmed him and
nurtured him and
fed him great peace.

And when this carpenter arrived in heaven
he was expected and
immediately he was put to work:
for the Pearly Gates
were a bit loose
and St. Peter’s desk
had a couple of drawers that stuck.
And before long
the old master carpenter
began to build
a new throne
for God.

-- Bill - - Ad-Marketing Guy, Ramsey NJ

These are all so… beautiful! <<sniffle>>

-- Tim D. - Woodstock, GA

((passes Tim a tissue))

-- "Functional WoodArt" by Debbie, Canada (http://www.execulink.com/~yohan)

I just about bust a gut when I read SSTs submission

Tune your plane
and hone your chisel
Don’t use electric tools
When it starts to drizzle

-- The significant problems we face cannot be solved by the same level of thinking that created them

curls of shavings rise
exposing wonders of grain
the smell of cedar

-- Bob, Carver Massachusetts, Sawdust Maker http://www.capecodbaychallenge.org

wood sits in the corner waiting … waiting … waiting for for me to pick it up.

-- ..... art for lifes sake

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
I suck at poetry,
Woodworking is funner.

(Poets are allowed to make up words.)

-- Dust collectors suck.

Karson asked me to be a poet.
I might be one and not even know it.
I wrote one down, balled it up,
And all I can do now is throw it.

-- Dust collectors suck.

If you’re in the Mood
for something good,
grab some wood,
and make something, dude.

Then cover it with shellac which bugs have pood.

-- Dust collectors suck.

wood, wood the musical flute ….

-- ..... art for lifes sake

Aw, shucks
This poem sucks.

Lee

-- No piece is cut too short. It was meant for a smaller project.

Treat your tools as you would your mate,

Don’t lend them out for heavens sake!

-- Dick Cain, Hibbing, MN. http://www.woodcarvingillustrated.com/gallery/member.php?uid=3627&protype=1

boney fingers ! boney fingers ! work your fingers to the bone … what-do-you-get ? pull my finger ! ...

Hoyt Axton

-- ..... art for lifes sake

I’m going to have a more ‘generic’ version of this in my will.

For years, it’s with wood I have played,
In the shop, with my tools, I have stayed,
But dear wife, when I’m dead,
Please don’t lose your head,
And sell ‘em for what I told you I paid.

Note: You can replace the words “wood”, “shop”, and “tools” with something related to most hobbies, and it still works. :-)

-- There is nothing in the world more dangerous, than a woodworker who knows how to read a micrometer...

Towards a Better Finish

I sand this wood and to my credit
sanding seems a lifetime edit.
It removes my goofs so sudden thoughtless
and makes the world seem clearly spotless.
Working wood to clean my mind,
day by day it helps me find
a peaceful time when past is gone
and memory of some flagrant spawn
of ill-timed speech or action dared
gave others hurt I should have spared.
But sand my soul in such a fashion
ol’ memory stirs some molten passion.
So now when wood gives smooth it’s surface
from rougher times and ill-gained purpose,
I hope that someday I may find
a gleaming finish deserved in kind.

Bernard William Soutar

-- /\/\/\ BarryW /\/\/\ http://thecreekviewwoodworker.blogspot.com

Caught in the office
Think I’ve lost my mind
I stare at the computer screen
Very nearly gone blind

Monday to Friday
The days filled with sadness
For Saturday, I pray
An end to this madness

Ahhh, the weekend is here!
The smile, I can’t stop!
All rise up and cheer,
For the Woodworker’s Shop!

Smell the wood, feel the grain
Now for what I truly enjoy
Get my chisel, get my plane
Perhaps I could even try out a new toy

Now I caress each piece into place
And sigh ‘cause I know this won’t last
Monday is back to the rat-race
The weekends, they fly by so fast!

I need a new job.

-- Do what you love and love what you do!