Wednesday, May 21, 2014

A Potter's Clay

Neither distraction nor a mind unfree
A tireless preacher he sits unknown that his hands form a task
A tiresome task some say to the form of his mind
A vivid picture and the result of a taskmaster

Some say the hands that mould be the master
and some say the clay captures the truth of the master
that it in its form of tardiness rule the mind

Twirling in dirt it resonates in its beauty yet unfinished
A slip and it returns to its form of dust 
The chapter of the master his pattern unrelinquished 
The destruction of the clay his dismal of a famished unfed

Breaking the bond between master and servant
The potter and the clay jilts each other's position
A silent nomination of the victor
A product of a hand that is not seen as meagre
A potter's clay now masked as a sensation.


1 comment:

  1. Hi Dear. Sorry for the late reply. Busy with shows also travelling to Ipoh to do shows there. My mom is fine. Thanks for askin. You are a sweetie. As always. Wow your poem is deep and intuitive con reflective. No wonder its admired by the world. The choice of words employed was incisive as thought provoking. Ingredients for a good perusal of poetic excellence. Very proud of you. Blessings from me to your Poetic Soul. May it take many fights into the depth of literary pool of excellence. Salutations to a genius - BalaRaja


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