Wednesday, July 27, 2011

At Iron Museum, Coalbrookdale, Shropshire - and the start of the Industrial Revolution.

Imagine a pot:


(black, round, singing when struck)
and the very idea


of making many
as reliably round as a canon shot.


Think, then, of this
coke instead of smouldered wood


an iron ore charge
and bellows powered by a wheel


and iron, pouring forth
like blood


deoxygenated, venal.

4 Comments:

Anonymous marly youmans said...

Like blood...

I suppose it used up a lot of human blood and sweat, too.

Love going on your jaunts!

Thu Jul 28, 03:41:00 pm  
Blogger Clare Dudman said...

Thanks Marly.

I enjoyed writing it. I think it requires just a little bit of work, however :-)

Thu Jul 28, 06:41:00 pm  
Blogger Kay McKenzie Cooke said...

Yes! There should be a whole lot more poetry like this. about iron and stuff. I can feel one coming on. ;)

Mon Aug 01, 01:09:00 pm  
Blogger Clare Dudman said...

Excellent! I would love to see this when it's finished!

Mon Aug 01, 01:13:00 pm  

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