He who made me did not want me
Left me with the empty pots
He who made me didn’t love me
Left me unpainted, here, forgot
He who cast a mould to form me
Upped his roots and departed
He who made me in his image
Made me uncaring and stone-hearted.
These woeful-looking garden gnomes were left behind by a previous occupier, and I just don’t have the heart to trash them.
I am full of pity for these charming gnomes who don’t know what happend to them and why they are there. A heart of stone however could sometimes come in handy;-)
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Unfortunately, I don’t have a heart of stone. Which is why they still sit there, all these years on, when I could have turfed them into the bin.
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I wouldn’t either. They look a bit forlorn, but sometimes, so do I and I’d hate to think that was license for trashing…..
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Yep, that’s… no, I just can’t do it.
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Wow! I truly love your poem!
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Thanks. Big smiles 🙂
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Love your poem. They look dejected and forlorn.
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They do, don’t they. It brought something out in me. 🙂
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😉👍
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🙂
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😍
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Really great poetry filled with emotions. And to think you created it from those unusual gnomes.
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I thank you. It’s a kind of dark spin on God the Potter.
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I’m feeling sad for garden gnomes.
This is quite disturbing.
But congratulations on evoking the emotional reaction you were aiming for.
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Thank you, Brian. I enjoyed the writing. 🙂
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Perhaps a lick or two of paint will give them fresh vitality. Then you could give them a new life via your favourite charity shop. You may even enjoy doing the painting. 🙂
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Good suggestion. And in truth, they’d make wonderful doorstops (they’ve heavy-heavy)
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But they look so happy!
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The tears of a clown? 🙂
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Hm. With the creepy ones, yes.
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It is said the clown paints a smile on his face to hide his tears
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I think I’ve actually heard that before. I think the clown is simply creepy.
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I don’t find them funny; they leave me unmoved. It’s like they’re trying too hard
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Love the form of this, that repetition works really well, Crispina. You almost have me feeling sorry for them – almost!
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Ah, only almost? Thanks, Lynn 🙂 🙂 :). I’m surprised how well received it is, it was quickly run off. 🙂
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I was going to leave a comment about how it read like a metaphor for an uncaring Watchmaker God – but I suspect I’m over thinking it! It scans very well and feels quite melancholy – perhaps that’s part of the reason why you’ve had such a good response.
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I wouldn’t say you are over-thinking it. Though it wasn’t in mind as I wrote it, afterwards I certainly saw the same.
And again, I think it’s the constant music in my life that inspires the beat of the poetry
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Someone commented the other day that my writing had a rhythm to it – perhaps that’s for similar reasons. I’ve certainly had a lot of music in my life
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I’m sure it makes a difference. I’ve heard many writers remark on what music they play while writing… different types for different genres, or maybe for different scenes.
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I like sounds more than music – I get distracted by lyrics! But a storm blowing, a glacier creaking, waves crashing – now that I can use 🙂
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Towards the end of writing The Spinner’s Game I was listening to a lot of Eastern European Pagan-folk music. No distraction; I don’t understand the words 🙂
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Maybe that’s what I should search for – foreign music with the sound I need. Though at the moment, trying to write a novel set during the Three Day week, I should be listening to Slade, Mud, Bowie, Bolan
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Try YouTube Music. Once you’ve chosen a couple or three tracks, it’ll suggest others, some you may not have heard of. And of course they offer playlists for e.g. 70s music.
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Trouble is, one of my characters might well be into 70s art rock which may mean having to listen to Roxy music. Not a fan
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Shucks… 🙂
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This is so good, you have us feeling sad for the gnomes (and yet, happy that you chose to keep them, so they should feel uplifted by now!)
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Thank you, Dale. I seem to be growing into the micro-form. After penning a five book series! I guess I’m a person of extremes!
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You are more than growing, you are succeeding. Big time!
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Aw, shucks… 🙂
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🙂
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