Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, CHIPS, by CHARLES PHILLIPS (1880-1933)


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

CHIPS, by                    
First Line: Wild eyed with the light of april in his eyes
Last Line: (chips . . . Chips . . . Chips . . .)
Subject(s): April; Earth; World


Wild eyed with the light of April in his eyes,
Bright limbed with the light of April on his body,
Warm and cool, cool and warm, with the heats of the sun and the earth in his
breathing,
The poet comes on a gusty wind,
Out of the green loamy air of the wood,
Running, running into the city,
Singing, singing -- hear him sing!
Life and love and everything!

. . . I saw an old man sitting by the gates,
Over a meagre kettle, over an empty pot,
Fanning his fire with scanty breath,
Feeding his fire with
Chips
Chips
Chips.

"Go get you wisdom," the old man said;
"Go get you wisdom -- then you may sing
Of life and love and everything."
(He talked in rhyme,
Meter and time,
And he fed his fire with chips, chips, chips.)
"Go get you wisdom. Your song annoys me.
Your capering puts a wind upon me.
Your lusty breathing blows out my fire . . ."
(Chips -- chips -- chips)
And the poet did as he was bid.
He got him wisdom, a basketful,
Chips from the block,
A wondrous stock,
Sayings and saws and elucidations,
Adages, laws, and adumbrations
Settled and said, writ down and done with --
Wisdom, wisdom, a wondrous stock!
Till weary at last he sat him down,
Cold in the heart and chilled to the marrow,
Old and peak-nosed, bald and yellow,
All the shine gone from his body,
All the sun-bronze, all the marble,
All the wild and the heat-and-cool
Gone from his body, gone from his eyes,
Gone from his bones, gone from his soul --
Sat him down by the gates of the town,
And builded him there, where the gusty air of April came with a tug and a flair,
A pull, a kiss, a caress, and a chuckle --
Builded him there a lonely fire
To warm his palsy, to soothe his knuckle
Sore from its weary knock, knock, knock
On the hard-locked doors of the wise and learned --
Kindled him there a thin blue flame,
And fanned it slow with scanty breath
And fed it over and over and over
With chips -- chips -- chips.

I saw an old man sitting in the street,
I saw an old man mumbling by the gate,
Shivering over a meagre pot,
Chattering over a beggar's fire. . . .
And a wind came out of the loamy wood,
Beyond the town, beyond the field,
With a wild-eyed poet riding on it,
Shouting, capering, running, leaping,
Singing and whirling, whirling and singing
"Life and love and everything!"

"Go get you wisdom," the old man cried,
Shielding his fire with his bony hands.
"Go get you wisdom -- then you may sing
Of life and love and everything," . . .
And his cracked old voice went mumbling on,
And he talked to himself and talked and talked --
Meter and rhyme,
Meter and time --
As he sheltered his fire with scrawny claw,
As he fed his fire with chips -- chips -- chips.

And the poet did as he was bid. . . .
(Chips . . . chips . . . chips . . .)





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