The printing press in the workshop in the basement



certain phrases have their say

in my poems frequently 

more than mere lexicon they

are my spirit vocabulary 


black as printer's ink 

a simile I often use

meaning more than it says

expressing more than I'd choose












ink's only black in print and

black ink isn't black you see

it's a rainbow-hued spectrum 

revealed by chromatography






I only discuss the science

to distract from the memory 

of basement press and printer

making little name cards for me



letterpress cabinet drawer with

funny names like copperplate bold

tiny metal characters neatly stored

such wondrous order to behold. 


Upon the composing stick 

he'd arrange moveable type

tempting trays forbidden me

about that I did often gripe 


typesetting to print and read

that was technology back then

the typewriter's clacking keys 

replacing human hand and pen 


now we push buttonless buttons

a mystery I can't comprehend

touch screens are now touchless

instead of mailing we say "send." 


now we don't write we "text"

instead of talking we "interface"

we talk to boxes instead of friends

somehow connected in cyberspace


computers are nice compared to

messy noisy printing press

or typewriter's many headaches

digit-less digital is less stress


we've got to look forward and

Grampa would be first to agree

looking only backward you miss 

all the cool new things to see 


But (there's always one) we still 

found something gestalt in the press

though he was always covered in ink

it's a "type" of mood therapy I guess 


I often mind walk in the workshop  

down in Crestwood Memory Lane 

to sort, if allowed, his letterbox

I will never see the like again


Pictures from Wikipedia user https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/User:Trimalchio and Willi Heidelbach. 












Pins Welcome!

Follow Me on Pinterest

Search This Blog

Blog Archive