Evelyne Schoenmann Posted August 3, 2016 Report Share Posted August 3, 2016 Awwwww, I am a day late. So sorry. Life got in the way big time... We have (happy dance!) another great question from Glazenerd for the coming week. A real challenge! Get ready for a surprise. Here is what Nerd has for you: "Potters are a creative bunch, always expressing themselves in the pieces they make. Perhaps it is time to use words to express the art we make.QOTW: Write one stanza or an entire poem centered on any aspect of the clay arts" Did I promise too much? A challenge indeed. My pencil is sharp, now how to start a clay poem.... Hmmmm.... How about you all? Are you already writing away? Nerd did, and that's what he sent me (it is rhymed to "Twas the Night before Christmas"!... and it has to be finished still....) Here goes: The Kiln Song Twas the night of the firing, And all through the studio, Willemite was growing, Even though it is pseudo. When up through the controller, The temps they did climb, Even though my old elements, Laid over like dimes. On copper, on cobalt, on ZNO, For tomorrow after is the art show, On titanium, on silica and mango, No time for reduction on this load. ...... ...... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
GEP Posted August 3, 2016 Report Share Posted August 3, 2016 I wrote this a few years ago: A poem for my pugmill my shoulder and wrists remember wedging all they could withstand drove 400 miles with a dozen benjamins to buy you secondhand took practice to get to know you at first too messy, sticky, or dense years later your virtue is measured in tons my gratitude more immense recycled is better than new perfectly soft and already round easy to center, easier to portion two inches equals one pound a potter's work can overwhelm mindful of fatigue and morale a little help from heavy machinery my indispensable pal Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Joseph Fireborn Posted August 3, 2016 Report Share Posted August 3, 2016 I wrote this a few years ago: A poem for my pugmill my shoulder and wrists remember wedging all they could withstand drove 400 miles with a dozen benjamins to buy you secondhand took practice to get to know you at first too messy, sticky, or dense years later your virtue is measured in tons my gratitude more immense recycled is better than new perfectly soft and already round easy to center, easier to portion two inches equals one pound a potter's work can overwhelm mindful of fatigue and morale a little help from heavy machinery my indispensable pal me now wants a pugmill . Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
glazenerd Posted August 3, 2016 Report Share Posted August 3, 2016 GEP: Your poem describes a very personal relationship with your pugger: hence clay. Then again, personal makes for great art. I strongly suspect many have written long before I asked. Nerd Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Denice Posted August 4, 2016 Report Share Posted August 4, 2016 Threw this together in 15 minutes My Kickwheel Humming and spinning I finish my trimming Bulky and old like me Life long friends indeed Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Evelyne Schoenmann Posted August 4, 2016 Author Report Share Posted August 4, 2016 Denice: I have reached my quota of positive votes for today You'll get mine tomorrow! Great... is it a poem? Very interesting how you spread it over the page..... Thank you! GEP: that is some poem! Congrats!! Nerd: are you writing on the ending of your poem? Evelyne: stop chewin that pencil, start to write! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
glazenerd Posted August 4, 2016 Report Share Posted August 4, 2016 Denice: never use "old" in a poem...waves cane in protest!!... Evelyne: I have writers block, although I did accidentally ingest some lithium carbonate- who knows! There once was a potter from Maine, Who thought reduction was so lame, All should oxidize she said, Never realizing she was firing lead, Alas, she is now 20 years dead!! Threw that in there.... Most poems like this start with " a man", but hey I am not sexist!! Nerd Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
What? Posted August 4, 2016 Report Share Posted August 4, 2016 There once was a Potter from Nantucket.... That's all I got. I will leave the rest up to the forums imagination. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
glazenerd Posted August 4, 2016 Report Share Posted August 4, 2016 A community poem maybe? There once was a Potter from Nantucket....< What Who fell headlong into a glaze bucket, < Nerd Next? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
GiselleNo5 Posted August 4, 2016 Report Share Posted August 4, 2016 I like to make Weird Al style parodies about crafting or pottery. This one is based on "Whip It" by Devo. Wedge It Wedge that clay It could take all day Bubbles they will crack Kiln load heart attack When a bubble comes along You must wedge it If the clay stays out too long You must wedge it When a new clay’s throwing wrong You must wedge it Now wedge it Into shape Cone it up Get straight Go center Lock your chair Try to control it It’s not too late To wedge it Wedge it good When the scrap bucket is full You must wedge it You won’t reclaim it now Unless you wedge it No one gets new clay Until they wedge it I say wedge it Wedge it good I say wedge it Wedge it good Slam that wedge Go on stir the slip Bubbles may crack Kiln load heart attack Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
High Bridge Pottery Posted August 4, 2016 Report Share Posted August 4, 2016 Pottery. Taking the rockery. Melting so hot you see. Or not. As fiery light so bright. You can't see your pottery. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
ayjay Posted August 4, 2016 Report Share Posted August 4, 2016 I'm not a poet, (but you're about to find that out for yourselves.) I don't even really like poetry much, a lot of it makes no sense to me. I used to enjoy reading Longfellow (Song of Hiawatha) as a kid, and Robert Service (Songs of a Sourdough) in my teens but that's about it. (I just noticed the *song* link there between the two, maybe that's significant). Mud, thud, spin squeeze lift: POT ****************************************** Spin the wheel and form the clay, shape it, until the moment is - Yay! Glaze it in, glaze it out; fire away. To the show, no freebies today. Everybody has to pay and pay. With due deference to Lou Reed for the last line there. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
karenkstudio Posted August 4, 2016 Report Share Posted August 4, 2016 Pottery, Poetry I’ve had a few students much younger than me Who confused pottery with poetry. They misplaced the “e†And dropped the “tâ€. Expecting to experience clay time, They were writing lines that would rhyme. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
glazenerd Posted August 5, 2016 Report Share Posted August 5, 2016 Giselle, both artists came after my time, although I recall a weird Al song. I see throwing is on your mind. Joel, do I rhyme that to rap? A confession of a peeker. Ayjay- throwing is on your mind as well..and profit margins. Karen: imaginative twist. EE Lewis comes to mind. Very creative, and on such short notice--- I knew you had it in you! Perhaps a Poe will come along. Nerd Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
High Bridge Pottery Posted August 5, 2016 Report Share Posted August 5, 2016 Dunno, I just made it up Tried another one this morning but had nothing in my brain after 5 hours sleep. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
ChenowethArts Posted August 5, 2016 Report Share Posted August 5, 2016 With a hat-tip to Dr. Seuss: It started by watching a glopgo round-and-around, non-stop. You say, "that looks fun!"and soon you've begunfilling buckets & buckets of slop. The next thing you knowyou're working for showWith your studio friend, the mop. And sloppity-moppity, gloppity-non-stoppityyour muddity-study-ty grows. Peace, -Paul Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Chilly Posted August 5, 2016 Report Share Posted August 5, 2016 There once was a potter called Ann Of clay and glaze she's a fan With her arm in a sling She can't throw a thing So hand-building is her bling "On my honour I promise to do my best" - maybe I shouldn't have bothered........ Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Evelyne Schoenmann Posted August 5, 2016 Author Report Share Posted August 5, 2016 Oh yeah, a community poem-challenge! There once was a Potter from Nantucket....< What Who fell headlong into a glaze bucket, < Nerd He yelled "help, help" get me out of this mess < Evelyne NEXT ? I admire all the great poems and ideas above! (Unfortunately my positive votes are again already spent).It is not really easy to turn our passion into a poem! Keep them coming! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
karenkstudio Posted August 5, 2016 Report Share Posted August 5, 2016 Ok, I'll keep it going There once was a Potter from Nantucket....< What Who fell headlong into a glaze bucket, < Nerd He yelled "help, help" get me out of this mess < Evelyne Noting the predicament was a potter named Bess < Karen Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
karenkstudio Posted August 5, 2016 Report Share Posted August 5, 2016 I'll just finish it! There once was a Potter from Nantucket....< What Who fell headlong into a glaze bucket, < Nerd He yelled "help, help" get me out of this mess < Evelyne Noting the predicament was a potter named Bess < Karen Yelling, "Could you check the bottom? I think that's where I lost my locket.<Karen Maybe someone has a better ending! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
flowerdry Posted August 5, 2016 Report Share Posted August 5, 2016 There once was a potter from Nantucket Who fell headfirst into a glaze bucket. He bubbled and blew And then quess what..who knew! He came up with his mother's old locket! I rewrote it to fit the....what was this type of poem called? Senior moment. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Fred Sweet Posted August 5, 2016 Report Share Posted August 5, 2016 Flower dry- I think you're looking for limerick. : a light or humorous verse form of five chiefly anapestic verses of which lines 1, 2, and 5 are of three feet and lines 3 and 4 are of two feet with a rhyme scheme of aabba Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
flowerdry Posted August 5, 2016 Report Share Posted August 5, 2016 Yes! Limerick! Fred, you had to look that description up, right? Or were you an english teacher?.... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
glazenerd Posted August 5, 2016 Report Share Posted August 5, 2016 A potter was looking for texture, Being tired of the old lectures, Grabbed Fred Sweet by the beard, Rolling her piece from ear to ear, Winning first place by conjecture. Wait! I think this Horton hears a Who.... Nerd Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
High Bridge Pottery Posted August 5, 2016 Report Share Posted August 5, 2016 The slip. The slip slop did drip drop and tipple top until you stop the pouring. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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