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Potterer

by Anamel


My hands were always careless.

I don’t know what to do with these people,
These beings who breathe

I’ve always shaped pottery with a shaky touch,
Made mountains and ridges and canyons

Now they make this shape with their mouths,
Air whistles through their lips, forms into an O

These people call me G-O-D.

I’m scared of the responsibility
The faith you put into me as you cry on your knees.

It’s my mistake you’re here
It’s my fault you understand the depths of pain.

I’m scared of these hands,
Scared, for the first time, as I use them to take.


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134 Reviews


Points: 88
Reviews: 134

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Sun Nov 14, 2021 10:44 pm
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FruityBickel wrote a review...



Hi, Bickel here to review!

To start with, this is a very pleasant to read poem with significant depth and good impact. It remains fairly consistent throughout itself with the amount of lines per stanza; the breaking of the lines gives it good flow and effect of diction. Overall, it's a solid piece.

My criticisms lie mainly within the middle line,

These people call me G-O-D


as personally I feel it's a little too on the nose. I understand that this is done with keeping the length of the poem short in mind; however, I actually would love to see this poem extended and played with, to see more examples and imagery to really drive home deeper this idea of creation as a burden.

The angle of God as a self-conscious artist, as the rest of us are, really is powerful, and I think its a really cool thing that you've just barely scraped the surface of. Again, I think there's even more to explore and discover about this poem's theme, if you ever wanted to revisit it and revise it.

How it stands, it's a fine piece on it's own, so take these suggestions with a grain of salt.

And most importantly, keep writing!

- FB.




Anamel says...


Thank you, I was thinking of adding a few more lines of detail to make it a more solid piece so I appreciate your review



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93 Reviews


Points: 111
Reviews: 93

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Sun Nov 14, 2021 5:11 pm
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vampricone6783 wrote a review...



I liked this poem.I can see why one would fear to have such a power,the power of creation.While you can create wonderful masterpieces with this power,you could also cause a lot of people to be unhappy with you or even dislike you.You could become scared if yourself and would want to hide from the rest of the world.However,creating is the most important thing,no matter what.Because even if people hate you for it,without you,there’s nothing.I hope you have a wonderful day/night.





A Prince of Darkness Is a Gentleman
— William Shakespeare