Here are the results of my first pottery course. We learnt coil and slab pottery, using a mold, throwing clay, and basic paint and glazing techniques. Unfortunately I was a bit heavy handed with my large mold pottery dish and it cracked after it had been bisqued (?) – it would have been gorgeous. Nevermind, I’m keen to do this course again soon!
I like poems
I like the space
I like the playfulness
The to and fro of wordballs
I’ll catch, sometimes
But usually I’ll just be standing in the space… over there, on the right and up a bit
My eye isn’t always on the ball.
The space around poems is luxurious, abundant, infinite, protected and free, expensive and cheap, all mine, all yours, comforting and disconcerting
Like an air~steward’s smile
All over the place
and over here
<- Her palms indicate exit signs ->
You’ll be fine!
But still you count the seats in front and behind
The space around poems is like green fields around a city
Peace of mind?
I’ll give you a piece of my mind
Just step outside the next line.
The first poetry book I was given was called, “I Like This Poem” (1979) and it had a picture of a dog balancing a red ball on its nose. I loved that book!
Some Inspiring Articles about Poetry:
Poetry Changed the World
Injury and the Ethics of Reading
hard and fired up
fingerprints pressed all over
my little clay pot
lust is a donut
hot, fresh and dipped in sugar
do not lick your lips!
painting by will wilson
Let me feel your gentle wings envelop me
As I sing to you
Shattered and undone
Let me feel your arms hold me tight
As I move to the beat
Shattered and lonely
Let me feel your protecting light all around me
As I cry tears of joy
I am not alone
For you are here with me, my bright angel
You wrap your gleaming wings around my soul
Comforting and cherishing
Promising and nourishing
Making light work of a heavy heart
Wrapped up in your wings I feel safe
Wrapped up and blanketed in your grace
I’m flying, my beautiful, invisible angel
You lift me in my hour of need
You smooth away my pain
You comfort me when I’m lonely
Cocooned in your loveliness
You, my angel, are my golden sanctuary
dare to fly…
we dream of flying like birds
of seeing the earth rolling beneath
of feeling the wind blow through our hair
we can’t help but see you
we can’t help but feel
you’re still there
we dream of things beyond this reality
of the stars in the sky
distant and strange
we look beyond the possible
when we feel at a loss
of just how to explain
the permanence of death
how can a life so strong and so brilliant so suddenly be gone?
we can’t help but hear your voice
we can’t help but see your smile
the mischievous gleam in your eyes
do you still dream I’m alive?
do you dare to hope it’s a lie?
that in some strange twist of fate I didn’t die?
we dream, we feel
we hope, we pray
we grasp at straws and try to delay
the cold hard reality
that inevitably knocks at the door and says
that you’re not here to stay
that though you were the epitome of life itself
though your voice still sings loud and clear
like a bird freed from its cage
you’re flying high
you just wanted to hear the tempo
and the melody
for a while