I believe in being prepared for any given situation. It isn't because I'm a pessimistic person; I think it is just good common sense. Hence, I've entitled my blog "Even Nothing is Something."

This covers my butt in any event. On any given day I can feel great exaltation that I have done something grand. I can scribble fiercely when my thoughts are leaping across the meadows of my mind like a happy little colt in the month of May, or my mind and writing can be as dry and arid, as cold and without life, as the Gobi desert - because even Nothing is Something.

I want to thank all of my fellow artists who work through other means and forms and who sell their work on the wonderful artist's site "Etsy," a place to buy and sell all things handmade, along with vintage items and supplies for their craft. They are a great group of people.

Those who have links to their site on my blog represent only a few of those whom I wish to include. Just click on one of those links and join the Etsy community. It is free. They are a great group of artists who have relieved me of my money in the most delightful of ways. If it weren't for their encouragement, I would have never shared my work through this blog.

Thank you my darling friends!

Enjoy my blog - The Poet or Not - More or Less

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

A Vessel Leaky Seamed and Cracked

All vessels made by the same Potter’s Wheel,
Yet different, such as we are.
Some tankards and steins of sterling, Mugs
Of beer at some cheery bar.

Tumblers of glass, goblets of crystal, Cups of
Porcelain, some dainty some stout.
Burnished copper, unpainted clay, each
Molded superior – no doubt.

What we contain is something of choice; but
Much of what we hold – our essence –
Is selected by that which makes us individual and
That which life presents.

How easy to say “Empty thyself! Be Molded fresh!”
Judging others on the shelf.
That tribunal judge of character who sips of life
Different from our self.

All of us are vessels leaky seamed and cracked, Bolder
Or more sensitive perhaps.
Who can say which contents more valued or desired?
Little nicks or larger gaps?

My own glass is a crystal of intensity, with just a
Touch of hearty brass.
I hear the tinkle, an inner voice of sympathy. Whose
To say which will longer last?

I tip my Vessel, so leaky seamed and cracked. My
Heart thus spills mercy,
In contemplation of life’s agonies and Offer to
Mankind’s final destiny.

While others, equally valued, but leaky seamed and cracked,
Are of harder substance made.
But all of us, before humanity, one way or another,
Have our contributions laid.

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