Red China Cup

© Gay Reiser Cannon * 2012

Those bones first pulverized and burned
blue-white, mixed strong then recalcined;
kiln fired, then cooled moon-white when turned.

Emerging purified, refined,
the artist finely paints with glaze.
Each stroke dissolved to mere outlines,
Her hands create designs through haze.

My bones may frame my current home,
provide my ark to glide through time;
I’m spun then cooled to learn alone,

perhaps become a paradigm.
My journey forms a path unique;
each chance encounter realigns
the course that I was born to seek.

© Gay Reiser Cannon * 8/28/2012 * All Rights Reserved


37 thoughts on “Red China Cup

  1. Beautiful language and descriptions…”My journey forms a path unique;
    each chance encounter realigns
    the course that I was born to seek.” ~ love that last line 🙂

  2. smiles…we are always being formed and polished you know….and no two pieces are alike…we are blessed though to sit in the same china cabinet for a bit though…smiles…i like the analogy gay…

  3. The ending…I love it. Each chance counter does indeed realign our course. We may not realize it at the time, but ….it happens. Our path changes (even though slightly) daily because of those we meet on the path. I love the photo, by the way. I inherited some of my aunt’s beautiful cups and saucers. Too pretty to use, I think; but I know I should use them.

  4. Pingback: Red China Cup | Pure Poetry |

  5. Pingback: Red China Cup « thebleedingpen

  6. These weary old bones have had enough polishing for a bit! lol Gay! Simply adore this…brilliant in its form, the rhythm and rhyme flawless and I have to tell you, your last visit to my place brought tears to my eyes with your comment. The might Bay of Fundy was ready and waiting.

  7. Our forms are so delicate and beautiful. I love your windup:
    “My journey forms a path unique;
    each chance encounter realigns
    the course that I was born to seek.”

    We don’t seem to find our true paths until we’ve been on the way a while. This is a great sentiment, wonderfully expressed.

  8. Gay, you truly have a poet’s eye and soul. This is both delicate and strong. I have a couple of really old china tea cups from my grandmother. I don’t think I’ll view them the same again and they are truly representative of a strong woman who raised 6 kids in the depression…with class.

    • Some days I wonder Victoria. I love what you have to say. Yes, I think my grandmother must have been tested by fire many times in her life; perhaps my mother too. They gave me gifts of strong resilience.

  9. i like the comparison here; the disparity between the cup and the body throwing sharp relief on their sameness, after all. we are all vessels of a sort, i suppose.

  10. This is one of my favorites of yours, Gay–light, seemingly simple, but full of depth and challenge. The rhymed tercets are very effective for giving immediacy and an up tempo progression, while the ending quatrain takes a firm, resolved stance. The cup is lovely, too–the way the handle perches seems to invite, almost insist, you pick it up.

    • Thank you so much. I gave it to my mother when she first decided to start collecting them shortly after I married. She had about 30 when she died. This has always been my favorite. I thank you for your insight, too, Joy. I always like seeing things you write, and hearing out you read my poems.

  11. I so enjoyed taking this journey with you, I felt inside the process, behind the scenes, always my favorite place to be. Your skill mirroring that of the artisan, creating a thing of beauty that also serves us well in life. A double happiness!

  12. i love how you describe the process…the being pulverized, formed, painted on and becoming what we are for a certain time span to then move on..what a great metaphor for life gay

  13. A delicate, yet strong metaphor…this beautiful teacup..for our our journey through I see it, it’s pulverizing, strengthening polishing events. Sheer beautiful writing, Gay!

  14. Excellent piece. So many great lines here. Really paints an excellent image. Love the photograph as well, just something simple and yet alluring to the cup, really reminds me of the type my grandmother used to have every morning, in fact she only would drink out of her cups, which I still remember clearly today. Cream colored with blue/grey flower patterns. Strong, very strong write Gay. Thanks

  15. Very nicely done, Gay. So many poems strain to rhyme and dump all style and substance in the process. This is so elegantly composed and style and substance cohere beautifully.

  16. The regular meter provides a perfect anchor for this confident assertion of what it is to be alive. The analogy works so well – even better for the cup belonging to your personal history.

  17. perhaps our great transition from life will not be so traumatic; love the a,b,c,b rhyme scheme, and the line /provide my ark to glide through time/.

  18. Beautiful thoughts, wonderfully expressed. Love the china parallel. Sherry collected tea cups for years. Gave most of them to her daughter last time we moved. I broke one once, playing with the dog. DOH!

  19. stunningly beautiful.

    “I’m spun then cooled to learn alone, // perhaps become a paradigm” I can’t say what it is about this pair of lines, but they linger with me.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s