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badger11

After the fall

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badger11

revision

 

I am a potter kneading, throwing, fettling:

the earthenware will be a bowl for fruit

that's over ripe, all bruised, a blue fly fest

of spores. Man's guilt is corrosive pollen.

I know this crock will bloat in paradise,

the clay is marred with stone. I will break it.

 

 

 

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original

 

I am a potter kneading, throwing, fettling

the earthenware to a bowl for fruit

that's over ripe, all bruised, a fly fest

of spores. My guilt is corrosive pollen.

I know this crock will bloat in paradise,

the clay is marred with stone. I will break it.

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David W. Parsley

Badger, this poem disturbed and confused me the first time I read it, so I set it aside for a week or so. Coming back, the effect is similar, but I believe there is a glimpse of futility and potential failure, a relationship long at work that may be fatally flawed. As often practiced with this type of theme, the specifics are not for public viewing, but the illustration is vivid and immediate.

 

Thanks (I think),

- Dave

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badger11

That's kind of you to respond David to my rather obscure attempt. Yes, I think a domestic context can be imagined, though I started with the universality of Adam/Eve and this reference:

 

http://kingjbible.com/jeremiah/18.htm

 

 

cheers

 

badge

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Tinker

Wow Badge, Playing God, a gargantuan (is that a word?) task. I like this and I would love to see it expanded. The guilt seems to come from nowhere, I think it needs some explaination. We all know the story but I don't think that is enough within the poem to rely on the reader's expected familiarity with the subject. The reader might not even make the connection. At first read I went there but not everyone will.

 

After suggesting you expand it, I have to say I love the tightness of this piece.

So go figure... Nice writing.

 

~~Tink


~~ © ~~ Poems by Judi Van Gorder ~~

For permission to use this work you can write to Tinker1111@icloud.com

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