01 February 2011

Crazed Cup

under the sink they are,
lined up, the forgotten
carafes, skewers for a
barbeque, behind a jumble

of flowerpots, paintpots, coffee-
and-teapots, the held-onto-
just-in-case, the broken
vessel, chipped, who might

just do in a pinch, and
thankful, too, we'll be, not
having that easy habit of
discarding others, the broken,

the imperfect, the slightly
cracked,
the crazing on an old cup a
map of all those days gone by

long forgotten, along with
their random imperfections,
dwarfed by the blazing of the sun,
remembering how hot it was....

4 comments:

MDutton said...

Good work. I write poetry too check it out http://duttonpoetry.blogspot.com/

Kratik said...

Great poem, I am speechless. good good :) keep writing
The image does well with the poem and gives it an essence worth reading.
Very well written.
you know, when I read the title "Crazed cup" I thought it must be another of those clich├ęd poem but no it wasn't. In fact, it was so brilliant that I even decided to comment. Well done.
Also, read my poem:
http://kratik1987.blogspot.com/2011/02/just-me.html
Cheers :)
Kratik

Patrick said...

Love the poem. Love the fact that more persons than I know how to use that old-fashioned word 'crazings'--plastic vessels and Corel and Mikasa just don't get crazings. But grandma's teapot did.

Well done!

MaryAnn McCarra-Fitzpatrick said...

Thanks, M. Dutton and Kratik for your comments....they are much appreciated (and I am now following your blogs!).

Cheers,

MaryAnn