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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.

 

......

......

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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

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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 . 

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Threw this together in 15 minutes                                                                                                                                                                                                         My Kickwheel                                                                                                                                                                                                                          Humming and spinning                                                                                                                                                                                                                   I finish my trimming                                                                                                                                                                                                                        Bulky and old like me                                                                                                                                                                                                                    Life long friends indeed                                                                                            

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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!

 

:unsure:

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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

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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

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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.

 

 

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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

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With a hat-tip to Dr. Seuss:

 

It started by watching a glop
go round-and-around, non-stop.

You say, "that looks fun!"
and soon you've begun
filling buckets & buckets of slop.

The next thing you know
you're working for show
With your studio friend, the mop.

And sloppity-moppity,

gloppity-non-stoppity
your muddity-study-ty grows.

 

Peace,

-Paul
 

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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........

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Oh yeah, a community poem-challenge! :D

 

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!

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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!

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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.

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