“Still I Toil On”

On By Mike U.In Poetry

“Still I Toil On”
(c) 2024 by Michael L. Utley

my old hoe is dull
and the weeds
resist its blade
still I toil on
iron sharpens iron
rust begets rust
the crucible of life
makes or breaks
which shall I choose
do I even have a choice

my garden’s neglect
pains my soul
its hardened soil
thirsts for more
than rain
too many weeds
too few blooms
a loathsome facsimile
of the worst of me

these hands
cracked and dirty
beset by age
and the scars
of a futile life
once strong enough
to break the earth
shatter stone
yet tender still
to caress the lotus
dry the tears
of my beloved
these calloused hands
empty now
save for the
piercing splinters
and burning blisters
of stillborn harvests
and sundered dreams

once, long ago
across the stream
my young man’s eyes
beheld the youthful willow
nubile and lithesome
her slender feet
glissading upon
the cool water
sinuous fronds
breeze-blown
her sultry-shy gaze
beckoning me
offering respite
from noonday sun
and I watched from afar
as egret and kitsune
nestled in her shadows
and I yearned for her
but my garden
needed tilling
my hoe dull even then
my back bent
from years of struggle
my heart distracted
by worries of harvests
yet to be
and in my hesitation
she turned away
and all was lost

cicadas drone
in the bamboo grove
their maddening chorus
a condemnation
their brief lives
leave little time
for memories
but plenty
for judgment
their desiccated husks
reminding me
of life’s brevity
all I’ve lost
all I needlessly
carry with me

it has been too long
since the rains fell
too long since the wind
cooled my brow
too long since
my soul slept
too long have I
gripped this
infernal device
my entire existence
rooted in this
garden of regrets
I have become
the very weed
I wish to slay

still I toil on
for there is naught left
but to toil
until my blade breaks
or the harvester’s scythe
takes me away

51 thoughts on ““Still I Toil On””

  1. It’s been many years since you left the farm, my friend, longer than the last time you’ve been even if you remain close still, nowadays. Release does not mean forgetting or equate to abandoning who Mike or Michael is and was all those years. I hope you find peace in your endeavours, and know a farm can only be nourished through a village of people. Gardens are for loners, seeking life, the only other place that can be – the backyard turned behind everyone’s back where no one can see. Only seeking sun, fresh air, and a glimpse of rain to nourish the abysmal while life flows forward all around you, and you deny it upon yourself, too, at that. Those plant babies need help while you’re in those rows, meandering. Your friends kitsune and egret, maybe even koi and dragonfly want you to stay there in their plain; but It’s better to stay focus and stay strong, than trample the ones you wish to raise up into futility and vitality the most, even when they seem so long gone and only held up by memories. Even when they slip by, some planes move farther and faster; yet satellites stay in place – full time.

    I enjoy knowing that due to lovely ol’ gravity. It’s not us that is looking up at the sky – we are looking down, but yet our feet stay firm. Then when the world seems “so upright” in our view, that’s when the world is really turned upside down. Humans evolved the dimensions and rounded the glare of their corneas – only so everything we could see – was not upside down in constant free-fall. We are much closer to the stars than we think, that’s what I propose at least. Every now and then, genetics, gets things backwards and individuals are born without “the corrective lenses” evolution and adaptation provided us with. The Nausea of Vertigo gets old. Even those that can see the way everyone naturally once did in archaic times – by laws deem them blind.

    Would you. look. at. that.

    I’m here for you, my friend 🩶💜💚

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    1. Thanks, Sam. I suppose I prefer the garden at this point in my life. I have neither the strength nor the energy to deal with anything larger at this late date. It’s lonely, sure, but I’m accustomed to it, still trying to fully accept it and be okay with the fact I’m going to be alone for the rest of my life. So, I do my best to hoe those weeds and hope something worth living for sprouts. It comes with age, settling into one’s habits and accepting that things happen randomly and we seldom have control of life. I just need to sharpen my hoe now and then, that’s all.

      Thanks for your kind words as always, my friend.  😊

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      1. Hmm. I will say, I do love a greyhound. It is my favorite way to travel across statelines and coast to coast. So many sights and stops between. I was on the move from the brink of birth for half my life and now it’s been a brink and half of that time, since I’ve been on the move. Eventually, it seems, that nice cool misty mountain air keeps a’ calling even if I was born on the coast – I’m not much for beaches. I don’t swim in rivers (or at all; Poseidon’s out to get me __-) But! We have discussed in previous comments about gardening on my page. I love a garden anywhere. I’ve heard Colo has .. pretty nice gardens. I love gardening. I must see those red rocks – this has been a lifetime goal for many years. I’ll probably need a local to teach me a thing or two of all that nature out there. (I am really scared to slip on those red rocks, I’m used to climbing granite and sand, not like.. deadbugjuicebecamepowder that turned the that microbacteriendums rich in density to stain the clay so red then harden. A deep mystery as I’d listen to Brooks & Dunn “Red Dirt Road” scrubbing my darn sneakers the one time I get them white. And wanted to understand why the red dirt or clay, even amongst marsh and swamp and woods and mostly venomous creatures… Turned into red rocks and Rockies over there.. but we’re all the same as once. Guess that big ol river got in the way. But that’s why we have greyhounds!! 😎 (Deep cut, but this is the real reason I’ve always needed to see the Rockies. As I’ve glimpsed at Appalachia in Boone and in county at the Laguna Mtns, up to Yosemite, Mt. St. Helens; what is it about those red rocks? Even the Poconos sucked!! I don’t wanna glamp. Dakota – magnifique!! Felt so alive 👌🏼The cliffs of Maine, ohmagawd beeauuyutiful. I’ve been all around the borders, and yet never got around to the Rockies in the middle of the country. I’ll keep you in mind, when I get around to it 🦠🌄🌄

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    1. Thank you, Saima. I have to admit that I was pleased when these lines came to mind. I liked the contrast between their softness as opposed to the strength of the preceding lines (“break the earth…shatter stone”). You’re always so kind to me and I appreciate you, my friend. Thanks as always for stopping by to say hello. 😊

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  3. Lovely gentle imagery.. It all reminds me of another poet, one who suffered many losses, much sadness, and though his love was requited, it was illicit and he had to hide it (except in poetry). Ah, life… It exacts such a toll on mere mortals. Anyway, a lovely writing, this.

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    1. Many thanks. Yes, love lost (or never found), regrets, the weight of memories… I know I’m not the only one who tends a garden of sorrow. Thank goodness for poetry and its ability to sharpen hoes, eh? I always appreciate your kindness, my friend. It’s good to see you stop by. 😊

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    1. Your kindness is boundless, Lamittan. Thanks so much for your warm words. Sorrowful memories…the bane of human existence. I wrote a senryu once:

      (#328)

      some write of joy
      I write of experience
      would they were the same

      This sort of sums up this poem.

      Thanks for stopping by to say hello, my friend. You’re always welcome here. 😊

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  5. Tranature - quiet moments in nature's avatar Tranature - quiet moments in nature

    Such a poignant poem Mike, the way past and present intermingle so effortlessly beautifully captures the way in which memories and time walk side by side ✍

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    1. Kindest thanks, Xenia. I really enjoyed the flashback section of this one, where the narrator fondly (and sorrowfully) recalls the youthful willow. Past and present, and seemingly stuck somewhere in between… 

      I appreciate your thoughtfulness, my friend. Thanks so much for visiting today. 😊

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  6. their maddening chorus
    a condemnation
    their brief lives
    leave little time
    for memories
    but plenty
    for judgment

    Oy Vey… we can be so harsh on ourselves. Regret just lingers, loitering for the worst possible moment to ride my mind like a pack mule. I actually am happy to hear that you find solace in farming. There is a real contentment in growing produce, harvesting, and sharing with your neighbors… if people still do such things. This is wonderful writing as always Mikey.

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    1. Thanks Nigel. This is more of a metaphorical garden–I moved away from the farm nine years ago and where I live now there’s no room for anything like a garden, not even a tiny one. I envisioned my “haiku place” when I wrote this one, as I often do when writing poetry. It’s an imaginary, idyllic little place in the Japanese countryside where my mind can wander and I can walk among steam and willow and lotus pond and bamboo grove and flower garden and my little hut (it’s based on my concept of what life may have been like for the great haiku masters such as Basho, Issa, Buson and others. So, while this garden is metaphorical in nature, I do recall the huge gardens on the farm while growing up, as well as hoeing weeds in the neighbors’ pinto bean fields, and how frustratingly ineffectual a dull hoe can be. I like the connection between gardening and life, how each must be tended with care and compassion, lest they become overgrown with weeds, hence this poem. 

      Thanks for your kindness as always, amigo. Much appreciated. 😊

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      1. Metaphorical garden… I missed that. 🤔 now I have to re-read this piece again. 😂. Told you, I’m forever learning with you guys.
        But the blunted hoe experience?….that I have lived. It’s very annoying.
        Always a pleasure reading your works Mikey..always being schooled.

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    2. No worries, buddy. That’s the joy of poetry–you can take legitimate emotions and memories and build worlds around them, and allow the readers to populate those worlds with their own imaginations. Good poetry is participatory, I think, and it’s always interesting to see how readers interpret one’s poems. I’m still learning, too, and always will be. That’s another of the joys of poetry–always striving to find new means of expression, imagery, story-telling, and the like. 😊🙏

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      1. It certainly has been a real.journey for me..you guys make it look so simple. But I’m paying attention mate. It requires tapping into my emotions, something I tend to only do when the funk hits me. Solitary living doesn’t allow much time for sulking or daydreaming, or daring to fall in love. 🥺 As you already know.
        That be dangerous grounds. Gotta stay functional. 😂
        But keep on teaching me, my friend. I wanna get better at this thing.

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    3. I’m an open book, man. If I can help someone, I feel like I have a purpose. If you ever have questions, let me know and I can share my own perspectives on this stuff. Everyone’s unique, and honestly, I marvel at your poetry. It’s so freaking powerful and honest. 

      Several years ago, I was a moderator at a computer game website (titanquest.net, no longer in existence as of 2017). We had a Fan Fiction section where players could upload their stories about the game or any other topic they wished. I became a mentor to several young writers during that time, helping with critiques and editing stories. It was really fulfilling to see these young writers grow as they learned. One young Romanian writer even began winning poetry contests and getting published as a high school student, which made me incredibly proud of him. He’d show me rough drafts of his poetry, then a few months later he’d send me links where those same poems had been published. An admin eventually gave me the special forum title of Wordsmith for my efforts to help other writers. Fun times, indeed.

      Anyway, I love writing and I love talking about writing, so let me know if I can help in any way. I’m learning from you, too, amigo. 😊

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      1. That’s so cool. I have some young friends around who are writing for a video game..they constantly come to me for advice, and it is so fulfilling.
        I’ll be sure to tap in when I need some feedback mate. I appreciate the offer. Some days I just write and get out just in time for work. Lol. But one weekend we will bounce some.ideas off each other. 🙏🙏

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    1. Many thanks, Bruce. Yep, gardens–and the sweat and toil involved in tending them–lend themselves so willingly to poetic metaphor. On the farm where I was raised in southeast Utah, our gardens were pretty big. The annual precipitation was about 10″ so that meant hauling water to irrigate the garden spot. Weeds were plentiful, and we had to contend with deer and rabbits eating the veggies, too. My mom loved her garden–that was her safe place, her little universe. (I have a poem due to be published in the next day or two about my mom and her garden.) Aching backs, sunburned necks and arms, blisters…all part of the deal with a garden, and with life, too. Hopefully there’s a good harvest at the end to make all the toil worth the effort.

      Thanks as always for the thoughtful comment, my friend. Much appreciated. 😊

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    1. Thank you kindly, Lauren. Yep, this isn’t a hopeful poem, particularly the end, but you know me…Mr. Melancholy. Sometimes, all a thirsting garden needs is a good rain, and life is much the same. We all need some happiness now and then, and when we experience a drought of kindness, we die a slow death inside. It gets to the point where we stop caring, stop thinking and stop hoping, and our lives become a futile exercise of going through the motions as we wait for the end.

      Anyway, thanks for the thoughtful comment and for being so supportive. I truly appreciate you, my friend. 😊

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    2. I’m oaky. No worries, my friend. I’m accustomed to going through the motions with little to look forward to so it’s sort of a familiar feeling. I toil on because I don’t know what else to do. (Man, that sounds depressing, eh? 😲) Anyway, thanks for your concern and your kind words, Lauren. I appreciate it. I hope you’re doing well. 😊🙏

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  10. Love the garden metaphor! Especially now as I am cleaning out the winter weeds from garden beds. A wonderful poem of life and the journey through. The regrets, the memories, the struggles and the inner strength to “toil on.” Another wonderfully crafted and heartfelt poem, Mike! Always enjoy your poetry!

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    1. Thanks so much, Peggy. Glad to know you liked this one, especially since you’re currently working in your garden. I really appreciate your support and encouragement. I hope springtime is generous to you and yours, my friend. 😊🌞

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  13. As always you words etch words upon my soul. What an amazing poem, Mike. You are truly a gifted writer and I always get nuggets and goosebumps when reading your work❣️💓
    💓💓
    ” I
    gripped this
    infernal device
    my entire existence
    rooted in this
    garden of regrets
    I have become
    the very weed
    I wish to slay”

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    1. Thanks, Cindy. I seem to be in a garden mood lately (my last two pieces have garden metaphors). We can become so caught up in our troubles, worries and regrets that we lose track of time, suddenly finding that one day we’re old and have very little time left, and all our dreams have gone to seed, with nothing but weeds remaining. I liked the metaphor of the dull hoe blade, making everyday struggles so much more difficult. And the flash-back scene featuring the youthful willow really touched me deeply. It has an almost fable-like quality to it. 

      I’m glad this one held meaning for you, dear friend. Your support and kind words invigorate me, and your visits here make me smile. I appreciate you. 😊

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      1. It’s that time of year so run with it and all of your visuals and metaphors are spot on. your words always hit home and your comments are gifts knowing mine reach your heart and keep fire in your belly.. I’m happy.. smiles back .. i appreciate you too❣️🌹🌼🌹

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  14. This life… the struggle and challenges that continue to haunt us.

    But…

    “still I toil on
    for there is naught left
    but to toil
    until my blade breaks
    or the harvester’s scythe
    takes me away.”

    Beautiful, Mike! 🩷

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    1. Thanks so much. It certainly feels like there’s nothing left to do but toil on forever sometimes. We all have some mighty struggles in our lives, and sometimes they seem never-ending. We need hope and beauty and kindness and compassion to see us through, and some of us miss out on those things because we’re so focused on the grind of life. It’s a sad poem, for sure.

      I appreciate you, my friend, and I’m always delighted to see you stop by for a visit. Thanks for being here. 😊🙏

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  15. Another beautifully penned poem, Mike. You’re in a melancholy mood, it seems, with a garden of hard-packed regrets. The last stanza lays out two bleak outcomes. Oh, I wish you’d find a few green sprouts in there too. Your poetry is amazing, my friend, as always. ❤

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    1. Yep, I seem to be stuck in that garden for sure. The garden theme has been active lately, too, and it offers a lot of metaphors for life. Usually springtime lifts my spirits, but the past couple of years that hasn’t been the case. I’ve been going through my haiku and senryu to seek inspiration for longer poems, and all the ones that stand out are melancholy, so my recent output has reflected that. I did write that “ridiculously upbeat” poem I mentioned to you not long ago, but I submitted it to Spillwords and haven’t heard back (it’s likely been rejected, and they don’t notify you if your submissions are rejected), so I have to wait awhile until I know for sure before I can post it here. 

      I think, in a nutshell, I feel inauthentic if I try writing upbeat poetry. It just doesn’t feel genuine or honest to me; I feel like a hack if I try. Character flaw, I suppose. My hope is I’ll write out all the melancholy stuff at some point and then I’ll be able to change gears and create some more positive material. I’m just happy to be writing at the moment, to be honest. 

      Anyway, I’m so glad you’re feeling better, Diana. I was honestly concerned for you. The flu can be really nasty. It’s good to see you back. You’ve most definitely been missed, my friend! Thanks for your kindness as always. I appreciate you. 😊

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      1. I was so sick, Mike. And usually I’m pretty healthy, going years without even a cold. This one knocked me off my feet. Thanks for the kind thoughts.

        And I totally get it that you have to write where you are. Your authenticity comes through and it’s one reason why your poetry is so powerful. That said, I look forward to the “ridiculously upbeat” one too. 🙂 I’m glad your muse is hanging around and look forward to whatever you write. Hugs, my friend.

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  16. The metaphors here are stunning. Another masterpiece! The last stanza leaves a lasting impact—a sad aftertaste—that somehow still makes you want to read the whole poem again from the top.

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    1. Thanks, Aaysid. Yes, it’s a commentary on a life lived poorly, with little hope at the end. Maybe that’s my age showing. At a certain point, we start looking back and we see all the failures (and hopefully some successes) as we near the end of the path. The flashback scene in this one is a good example of opportunities lost and regrets lingering. On the plus side, I really enjoyed writing this one. I visit my “haiku place” when I write poetry, and and this is representative of that imaginary place where I go in my mind to find inspiration. 

      Thanks again for your kindness, my friend. I appreciate you. 😊

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    1. Thanks so much, Layla. It’s one of those things that can keep us awake at night, wondering why we persevere when we know it’s all for naught in the end. I’m old and I still haven’t figured it out yet. I suppose we hold onto hope that there’s something better awaiting us, or perhaps we’re just so conditioned in our ways that we don’t know any better than to keep our noses to the grindstone regardless of what happens later. 

      I appreciate you, my friend, and your always thoughtful comments. You’re a wonderful presence here in this community.  😊

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