goldenlangur Posted November 7, 2011 Share Posted November 7, 2011 What the wind brings The November wind carries a hint of juniper and sandalwood smoke, and an echo of cymbal and thigh-bone trumpet... Across the ridge ragged manes of poplars stain the setting sun. Ravens, fields and peaks meld into the valley's’ dark mouth. Soon, the stars unveil their incandescent tracery of paths. Outline of a face flickers in the dark. The front gate clicks open. But no footsteps sound in the cobbled courtyard. It is cold and silent. Quote goldenlangur Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
badger11 Posted November 7, 2011 Share Posted November 7, 2011 Your poem oozes atmosphere. Very much enjoyed. badge Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
abstract Posted November 7, 2011 Share Posted November 7, 2011 Chilling. I especially like the line: Ravens, fields and peaks meld into the valleys’ dark mouth. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
goldenlangur Posted November 8, 2011 Author Share Posted November 8, 2011 Hi badge, I'm so glad that the atmosphere of the moment came through: Your poem oozes atmosphere. Very much enjoyed. badge Thank you. Quote goldenlangur Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
goldenlangur Posted November 8, 2011 Author Share Posted November 8, 2011 Hi abstract, I like your reading of 'chilling'. It is one of those instances, when a reader adds something to a piece and enriches it. Chilling. I especially like the line: Ravens, fields and peaks meld into the valleys’ dark mouth. Delighted too that the lines you've quoted carried some impact. Thank you. Quote goldenlangur Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Benjamin Posted November 8, 2011 Share Posted November 8, 2011 A genteel language and innocent imagery which altered in the last stanza, to prompt a mood reminiscent of De la Mare's famous poem, "The Listeners". Enjoyed. Benjamin Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
abstract Posted November 8, 2011 Share Posted November 8, 2011 Thank you Benjamin for your reply. I had to read "The Listeners" to understand your post (the mood is a bit reminiscent!) and it led me to look up Walter de la Mare's other work. I am working my way through a collection of his poetry now and am enjoying it. Goldenlangur: I would be curious to know what the story behind your poem is, if you know, and would like to tell. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Tinker Posted November 9, 2011 Share Posted November 9, 2011 Hi GL, As usual your imagery surprises me. You deliver a mood with the unexpected. I really enjoyed reading this, it is fresh and current yet ancient and haunting. ~~Tink Quote ~~ © ~~ Poems by Judi Van Gorder ~~ For permission to use this work you can write to Tinker1111@icloud.com Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
goldenlangur Posted November 12, 2011 Author Share Posted November 12, 2011 Hi Benjamin, The Listeners is one of my all-time favorites and I'm delighted that my little piece reminded you of this poem: A genteel language and innocent imagery which altered in the last stanza, to prompt a mood reminiscent of De la Mare's famous poem, "The Listeners". Enjoyed. Benjamin Thank you. Quote goldenlangur Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
goldenlangur Posted November 12, 2011 Author Share Posted November 12, 2011 Hi again, Very good of you to ask. At this time of the year (Late Fall/autumn ) we have family rites which include special offerings for the loved ones whom we have lost. The juniper and sandalwood incense and the cymbals and thigh-bone trumpets accompany the rites. The rite is performed by monks. the There's a local belief that at the time of such offerings the dead return briefly. Goldenlangur: I would be curious to know what the story behind your poem is, if you know, and would like to tell. I hope this gives you some background to the poem. Quote goldenlangur Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
goldenlangur Posted November 12, 2011 Author Share Posted November 12, 2011 Hi Tink, As ever, you're generous and encouraging: Hi GL, As usual your imagery surprises me. You deliver a mood with the unexpected. I really enjoyed reading this, it is fresh and current yet ancient and haunting. ~~Tink I'm pleased that the imagery works. Thank you. Quote goldenlangur Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
dr_con Posted November 12, 2011 Share Posted November 12, 2011 Golden, As always this is just fantastic work- Hungry Ghosts came to mind and was gratified to see it was an ancestor ceremony- Really enjoyed! Many Thanks! DC&J Quote thegateless.org Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
David W. Parsley Posted November 13, 2011 Share Posted November 13, 2011 Words - the right and beautiful words - spare as the edge of a bitter wind. Combines an Algernon Blackwood ability to draw on what is "out there" with what haunts from within (yes, like de la Mare's Listeners). - Dave Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
eclipse Posted November 14, 2011 Share Posted November 14, 2011 lovely work this i must say Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
fdelano Posted November 15, 2011 Share Posted November 15, 2011 Maybe just the word choice, but this takes me to a barren place near Mexico. I get the feeling of sitting by a greasewood fire, looking across the river, maybe from Arizona. Looking around for my jerky. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
goldenlangur Posted November 17, 2011 Author Share Posted November 17, 2011 Golden, As always this is just fantastic work- Hungry Ghosts came to mind and was gratified to see it was an ancestor ceremony- Really enjoyed! Many Thanks! DC&J Many thanks, DC&J. You're absolutely spot on - it is an ancestor ceremony. Quote goldenlangur Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
goldenlangur Posted November 17, 2011 Author Share Posted November 17, 2011 lovely work this i must say Thank you for the read and your kind words. Quote goldenlangur Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
goldenlangur Posted November 17, 2011 Author Share Posted November 17, 2011 Maybe just the word choice, but this takes me to a barren place near Mexico. How wonderful that this piece reminded you of a barren place near Mexico. This brings a big : I get the feeling of sitting by a greasewood fire, looking across the river, maybe from Arizona. Looking around for my jerky. Thank you. Quote goldenlangur Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
tonyv Posted March 2, 2012 Share Posted March 2, 2012 This one has a mystical, supernatural, trascendental mood to it. And though it's set on the other side of the world, I can understand the Mexico association. It's very Day of the Dead. Setting, length, ambiance -- I like everything about this poem, Goldenlangur. Tony Quote Here is a link to an index of my works on this site: tonyv's Member Archive topic Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Aleksandra Posted March 6, 2012 Share Posted March 6, 2012 Ravens, fields and peaks meldinto the valley's’ dark mouth. Well, GL :) those were my favorite lines, my taste of verses. But that's not all. I loved all the poem. How good after some time to read you again. I enjoyed reading this poem. Great, as always :) Thank you for sharing it. Aleksandra Quote The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau History of Macedonia Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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