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Poetry Magnum Opus

Out Tonight.


goldenlangur

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It is out tonight.

The hound lowers its head

and drools in wait

for a passer-by.

 

Threading through the bamboo

the moon stipples its taut back,

silvers the hackles of hair

and pools its watching eyes.

 

Across the field

a car door clanks, bangs,

an empty bottle skittles

down the stones.

Footsteps cross the road

to the edge of the grove.

 

The hound sniffs a whiff

of tobacco smoke.

It paws the ground

and whips its tail to and fro.

 

A red hat and mouth

tinged blue in the wan light

steps out of the shadows,

holds out a bejewelled hand.

The hound whimpers and licks.

 

Together they climb into the moon.

goldenlangur

 

 

Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying.

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Hi gl. What an interesting build-up. I was half expecting something very different.Your last line is excellent and cements the piece as a whole. B.

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Oh GL, This is a juicy, creepy piece that keeps pulling me further and further in. The sonics of the work sends chills up my back, the imagery is as much about what we hear as what we see. Amazing.

 

~~Tink

~~ © ~~ Poems by Judi Van Gorder ~~

For permission to use this work you can write to Tinker1111@icloud.com

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Really fabulous stuff Golden- Loved the stark spooky images and the final delivery- Not that it matters- ;-) Wholly your creation or a mythic inspiration from somewhere else? Loved the implied history that gives this wonderful piece a marvelous depth...

 

Many Thanks!

 

DC+J

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Larsen M. Callirhoe

hi goldenlangur.

 

another gem by you. you ave a knack with philosophical poetry. you make me think about the very fine crisp poetry you present here on the forum. i think like this with nature. i use the elements now more then i use creatures (in my eaarly years of poetry i used animals) but you wrote sometthing here that reminds us all of our youths.

 

being a young lad or young girl finding the family dog and looking at the glowing moon. i was sad when my mom put the family dog "george" to sleep in the late 70's or 1980 or 1981. i was very sad back then being a 10 or 11 year old at the oldest. but reflecting back he was probably stuck down in th latte 70's because of his age. i remember being a two, three, and four year old and him licking my chops after i ate a sweet food in 1973, 1974, and 1975. in 1975 one of only two my my grandpas still alive dies in 1975. i wish my mom would have let me go to the funeral. i would have loved to see the family. my mom thought we were not mature enough themn. i didn't think about at all because of that reason even though i still saw my grandmother in 1976, 1977, 1978 etc... it was never talked about. i know realize now my mom didn't want us to see her cry because she was in her mid 20's. when her mother died when she ws 51 she went to the funeral. i wish i could have but being paralyzed i didn't want my mom to see how hard it was on me or she would hae put me in a nursing home.

 

GL i see you have a compassionate heart in how you inked this down.

 

this last line makes this a amazing awesome and second to last stanza a poem for the ages.

 

"A red hat and mouth

tinged blue in the wan light

steps out of the shadows,

holds out a bejewelled hand.

The hound whimpers and licks.

 

Together they climb into the moon."

 

thank-you my poetry friend.

 

victor

Larsen M. Callirhoe

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Hi Benjamin,

 

I'm delighted that the build-up works and that the last line wraps up the piece:

 

What an interesting build-up. I was half expecting something very different.Your last line is excellent and cements the piece as a whole. B.

 

 

Thank you.

goldenlangur

 

 

Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying.

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Hi Frank,

 

The macabre was quite fun: :smile:

Oh yes, splendid dip into the macabre Golden, Frank

 

 

Appreciate this thumbs up:

... subtly understated.

 

Thank you.

goldenlangur

 

 

Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying.

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Hi Tink,

 

I'm really pleased that you mention this :smile: :

 

... The sonics of the work sends chills up my back, the imagery is as much about what we hear as what we see. Amazing.

 

~~Tink

 

 

Thank you.

goldenlangur

 

 

Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying.

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Hi DC,

 

So glad that you picked this. The inspiration comes from my father's childhood late night encounter with a dog at the edge of a bamboo grove in an uninhabited stretch of the valley. He was returning from a fair in the neighboring valley with a few boxes of matches ( no torch lights then) to light his way. How perceptive of you to sense an 'implied history':

... Wholly your creation or a mythic inspiration from somewhere else? Loved the implied history that gives this wonderful piece a marvelous depth...

 

DC+J

 

I confess that I gave it a few contemporary touches and I am so pleased that it seems to work: :smile:

Loved the stark spooky images and the final delivery- Not that it matters- ;-)

 

 

Thank you.

goldenlangur

 

 

Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying.

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Hi victor,

 

You're very generous in your commendation of this piece.

 

Thank you for sharing your own experiences. Yes, death of a pet is painful. We have much to learn from animals and they certainly enrich our lives. I'm amazed that this poem triggers thoughts of your own youth as it is inspired by my father's childhood encounter with a hound late in the night.

 

 

I appreciate your thoughtful response.

goldenlangur

 

 

Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying.

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