Clay is moist in their hands.
They probe it with damp fingers,
feel resistance until they simultaneously
throw it on their wheels
with a wet thud.
Percussion.
The rhythm of the kick wheel
gives them impetus to knead
and sculpt, and shapes emerge, breathing
together with their creators,
merging into a breeze.
A windy symphony.
Each pot has its maker’s
fingerprints, though pots strive
for individuality: some are off centre,
others have uneven walls,
a crack here, a lump there.
Protest songs.
There is a slowing down
of wheels, the slap of collapsing clay.
Uniform pots are taken away
to be glazed, uniformly.
Perfect cadence.
Kim M. Russell, 4th November 2025
Lisa is our host for Tuesday Poetics at the dVerse Poets Pub, where we are getting crafty because “we look at, and engage in, craft and craftsmanship all of the time without consciously thinking about it most of the time. It is one of the things humans do best.”
Lisa says that craftsmanship is a noun or a verb and is closely linked to artistic, creative expression and it was “easy to find poems that talk about crafts and craftspersonship”; she has shared poems by Marcus B. Christian and William Pitt Root to inspire us to use one or more of the definitions that have been given and write poems in any format or length we choose. I chose ‘the quality of being well-crafted or well-built’, took an old poem and rewrote it.
writing in north norfolk 
The kick wheel is something that I remember from my youth when we did pottery as part of out classes in ceramics…. but mostly we worked by hand making animals of different kind.
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This is absolutely stunning, Kim! 😍 I especially admire this part; “Each pot has its maker’s
fingerprints, though pots strive for individuality: some are off centre.” ❤️❤️
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Thank you so much, Sanaa!
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You’re most welcome 😘
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this reminds me of the 1950s Potters wheel Interlude of the BBC with your musical intervals
but this is the real craft
“shapes emerge, breathing
together with their creators,
merging into a breeze.”
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Thank you, Laura. I would have loved to be a potter and love the Great Pottery Throwdown. I fell in love with pottery at school, where we had a wheel in the art room. I just had to feel the clay between my fingers! I really should look for potters in my area.
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A new beginning for the New Year perhaps 🤔
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Kim, you made me think of the movie, “Ghost” and the pottery scene. It is regretful that only the perfectly shaped pots get to move on to the next part of the process.
I like the tactile intimacy of the art and the artist which you show so well in your poem.
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Thank you for your appreciation, Lisa. I used to love the feel of clay under my fingers. Nowadays, it’s the occasional feel of play dough when I go to Ellen’s!
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You are welcome. Hoping you get to fashion clay again.
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Nice one
much♡love
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Thank you, Gillena, and much love to you.
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This piece is spectacular Kim 🙌- I loved pottery – although I haven’t done it for a few years now – reading this makes me want to take it up again – there is nothing like feeling the clay between your fingers – and I almost am…😊
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I enjoy how “Protest songs” and “perfect cadence” suggest tension between individuality and standardization, the flawed, human art versus mass-produced perfection. This is particularly topical considering capitalism and AI’s intrusion into the arts. Thank you.
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For anyone who viewed Ghost as many times as I have, your poem perfectly describes the action … down to the last frame. I love this, Kim!
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I find watching the pottery wheel quite fascinating and the results can be stunning. I too thought of the movie Ghost. That was a sensual scene that just lingers.
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