Ode to a Plumb Bob

Posted by Dave Bonta on May 1, 2008 (last modified at 8:09 pm, 5/1/08)
This entry is part 11 of 29 in the series Odes to Tools

Brass doorknocker
for a house without a door

downward dog
always on point over the same
obvious quarry

flightless rocket
leaded with failure

pendulum made
to mark eternity
one still moment at a time.


Series Navigation«Ode to a Magnetic ScrewdriverOde to a House Jack»
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11 Responses to Ode to a Plumb Bob

  1. quiet regular says:
    May 2, 2008 at 10:23 am

    I liked this. If I had the time, and I’m sure to find it…I’d make some doggerel out of its silly name.

    Reply
  2. Bill says:
    May 2, 2008 at 11:01 am

    Check!

    Reply
  3. ...deb says:
    May 2, 2008 at 11:37 am

    Ahhh…one of my favorites. Tool and poem about tools.

    Reply
  4. David Harmon says:
    May 2, 2008 at 12:09 pm

    Cute. And of course, it’s always at odds with the spirit level….

    Reply
  5. Dave says:
    May 2, 2008 at 12:11 pm

    Thanks for the comments. Quiet regular – if you do, feel free to share the results here!

    Reply
  6. Larry Ayers says:
    May 4, 2008 at 5:35 pm

    Very nice imagery, Dave! As a long-time woodworker, I’ve been enjoying this series.

    Reply
  7. Dave says:
    May 4, 2008 at 5:42 pm

    Thanks, Larry – I’m glad these resonate with your own experience of what I suppose we should be calling the secret life of tools.

    Reply
  8. Joan says:
    May 4, 2008 at 9:03 pm

    Although not very quiet and mostly irregular, I too was inspired to do a riff on Plumb Bob’s funny name. By the end of the first 2 lines I knew I was in trouble due to the bi-sexual undertones of the thing. By the time it finished itself (my verse often does that) it had morphed into a slightly more universal metaphor. Maybe I should have then called it “Bi-Polar Bob”.

    A WILD PLUMB

    Plumb Bob is quite a quirky one
    Just swinging either way.
    Eventually he tires of both
    And finds one place to stay.
    Is our Bob just plumb tuckered out
    With errant weird behavior?
    Does being still help sort him out?
    Is quietness his savior?
    He seems to find a focal point
    To which he should aspire
    But middle road and even planes
    Quite soon cause him to tire.
    Somehow I think our plums of wisdom
    Do not fill Bob’s bill.
    The straight and narrow rarely
    Fits a vacillating will.
    But just as he swings out again
    To plumb the bounds of space,
    Inertia, yawning, drags him back
    To measure our dull space.

    Reply
  9. Dave says:
    May 4, 2008 at 9:55 pm

    Hey, that’s great, Joan! Thanks for sharing. I’m glad I didn’t go with the more staid alternate name and title mine “Ode to a Plummet.”

    Evidently “plumb bob” is a corruption of the Latinate word for lead, plumbum.

    Reply
  10. Joan says:
    May 4, 2008 at 11:01 pm

    Golly! That’s fascinating info. I might never have become acquainted with ‘Bob’ in that case but Plummet would bring on a whole new set of images..cause really it does plummet straight down all the while hanging safely by it’s tail. However, whatever name you chose to call your poem, it reads as sweet. It would still have those 4 wonderful metaphors ending with “Pendulum made to mark eternity one still moment at a time.”

    Reply
  11. condo insurance bc says:
    August 31, 2008 at 9:27 am

    condo insurance bc…

    chasms Arragon,expansive …

    Reply

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