Shaping The Clay; Myself


I feel the best time to create is when you’re hungry; They call us starving artists: It’s actually quite ironic since they are the vapid ones starving for our minds – hungry; I’m being sarcastic. It’s sad how they smoke like an empty pot – All their money can’t afford them a meal as this; I put marks to any medium, and I am fed. How could I ever be hungry? I’m the creator; I pull my own fucking ribs out, birth my equals, and if I choose to, I swallow them whole and put them right back. I am not looking for your justice. I am not looking for your empathy. I am looking for the blood, sweat, and tears that give way to the culmination of an entire cold pressed life; At the end you will drink it – Not one drop will go to waste.

I’ve watched the soft way my tools begin to shape you
You don’t take the direct route – No, you choose patience.
You don’t appear immediately in the initial stray lines.
We take our entire evenings for these types of beauties.
Watch intuitive understanding slowly pull you out of nothing
I’ve had my eyes focused intently on your ripening form
I’m not sure what else I’ve noticed today,
aside from the subtleties that make you – You.
That soft desire, your fiery demeanor when I strike you up,
I press hard on the lead to accent it all with the right cuts.

Emotionally intelligent people fuck up too, and because they understand so much more – It can be said that they fuck up far worse. The thing is their gift never comes with just the ability to read the emotions of others and feel deeply the hearts of those around them – No, emotional intelligence is not developed and honed in that way – You are not born with such a soft quality. It requires consistent shattering, to learn from navigating one’s own fissures. Knowing of your own faults, so that you might not overlook them when relating with those you engage with, is key; Wading at the edges of the river is not enough; Only those who have drowned in their own depths truly understand the emotions.

You forget to pause when the river waters surge so rapidly,
It’s about breathing correctly and not allowing yourself to fall behind.
Clearly it’s all timing, but at a deeper level it is so much more.
You aren’t just in the right place at the time moving along at pace;
No you have to hit a full breath as you make the stroke across,
Followed by a hold at the top not too long, nor too brief;
Allowing preparation for your exhale and waving of your wrist.
It very much matters what your other hand is doing, in the case that only one holds the tool.
It must be relaxed – Not completely though – Everything must be relaxed.
You’re not forgetting to breath now, right? See, it’s hard to follow along here.
I still have things to learn. I know what it is I’m doing, but until I can teach you I’ve got things to learn

In this bed you will find everything you fear and love.
It just comes down to whether you will settle for less than you deserve;
If not then you must take to action, Since not settling requires effort.

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10 thoughts on “Shaping The Clay; Myself

  1. I adore your depth and authenticity!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. beulah888 says:

    It sure does. Yet for some “not settling” is a way of life.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Settling also requires effort, because with each breath you feel the prick of discontent, and must continue to convince yourself that this is really all you deserve….

    Liked by 2 people

  4. booguloo says:

    I read this 3 times and my immediate reaction (if you can be immediate after three reading..). It felt a little self absorbed…but as poets I think that’s why we write…. So I’m guessing it’s no better or worse than my own. After the forth read I started smiling. I just hope you are too…

    Liked by 1 person

  5. booguloo says:

    Man.. I used to love window pane then I grew up and fell in love with shrooms… Now all I do is my vicodin and Fentanyl patch for bad knees and lately my torn rotator cup. Now I just wish I knew who’s in my mirror… it looks like my mom with a beard..

    Liked by 1 person

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