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goldenlangur

Not For You

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goldenlangur

Late night -

the gate glistens without a creak.

No, I'm not keeping a watch for you.

The wreath in the Persimmon grove

now hangs withered.

 

Not even the young crows

in their faltering flight

through the trees

give it a second look.

 

 

The sun traverses

a monsoon-laden sky

to its autumn descent,

and the orange blossoms

bend with promise.

But I won't be waiting.

 

I shall fill

this speckled blue goblet

with the swelling moon

and drink it.

But not in your name.

 

 

 

goldenlangur


goldenlangur

 

 

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

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Tinker

Oh goldenlangur, this is heart breaking. I think I remember another poem from you a while back where a wreath was hung in waiting.... But no more.

 

The poem is beautifully crafted with that touch of the exotic you always bring to your work. The image of the speckled blue goblet filled with the swelling moon is spectacular... I simply loved this poem.

 

~~Tink


~~ © ~~ Poems by Judi Van Gorder ~~

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

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tilsover

I agree, this is heartbreaking. It sounds like you miss this person very much, and that's sad. This poem feigns indifference, but no one who's indifferent writes like that. Good poem.

 

-- tilsover

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JoelJosol

GL, I agree with them. I loved the way you painted the setting, and the last stanza I like best because of the sound of the l's and b's.


"Words are not things, and yet they are not non-things either." - Ann Lauterbach

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Aleksandra

goldenlangur wrote:

 

Late night -

the gate glistens without a creak.

No, I'm not keeping a watch for you.

The wreath in the Persimmon grove

now hangs withered.

 

Not even the young crows

in their faltering flight

through the trees

give it a second look.

 

 

The sun traverses

a monsoon-laden sky

to its autumn descent,

and the orange blossoms

bend with promise.

But I won't be waiting.

 

I shall fill

this speckled blue goblet

with the swelling moon

and drink it.

But not in your name.

 

 

 

goldenlangur

 

goldenlangur, your poems always are so attractive to read and I always I look forward to read something more and more.The imageries what you are showing up and capturing are so strong and clear, with magical view.

 

I love how it looks the Persimmon tree and it is so sad to see the wreath in the Persimmon grove

hangs withered. I have one in my garden so you used wonderful metaphor.

 

In all poem since the start till the end, gives some melancholic angriness, with dose of proud, dignity but pain too. That can be seen from the point and title of this poem, " Not For You ", also in the lines like : the gate glistens without a creak." , " I'm not keeping a watch for you ", in the second stanza, then " But I won't be waiting ", and in the ending part and line : " But not in your name. "

 

Much enjoyed GL with this wonderful emotional poem

 

Aleksandra


The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

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goldenlangur

Hi Tink,

 

What can I say except that I'm very moved that you remembered another poem of mine about a wreath.

 

I struggle with free verse - punctuation, line breaks, upper and lower cases - so thank you for giving this your critical approval.

 

I do smile whenever you say "the exotic" - your point makes me realize how we view places, nature, beliefs in another part of the the world.

 

So pleased that the image of the speckled blue goblet filled with the moon works for you. It came to me in a dream but that is the thing I remember and nothing else of the rest of the dream, which seemed so vivid at the time!

 

Yes, you read ever so sensitively - there is pain and sense of loss.

 

 

Thank you so much,

 

goldenlangur


goldenlangur

 

 

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

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goldenlangur

Hi tilsover,

 

A big thank you for your generous comment :

 

tilsover wrote:

 

This poem feigns indifference, but no one who's indifferent writes like that.

 

-- tilsover

 

You've expressed well what I hoped to convey.

 

Hope to read your work.

 

goldenlangur


goldenlangur

 

 

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

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goldenlangur

Thank you JoelJosol for picking up on the sounds.

 

I'm an illiterate in poetical techniques and so I write by image and sounds and hope to God or any divine powers, that the lines will fall into place. I'm always delighted when someone shows me how a poem can be laid out in a better way.

 

So I'm very grateful for your encouraging remark.

 

So glad that you enjoyed the setting and the last stanza.

 

goldenlangur


goldenlangur

 

 

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

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goldenlangur

Hi Aleksandra,

 

You have a great eye for details and here I'm very grateful that you felt the "melancholic angriness" and "dose of proud" here.

 

How wonderful that you have a Persimmon tree in your garden. It has associations with the local oracle's rites here. You know well when the fruits are ripening how light plays off them and the sweet, heavy smell !

 

Thank you so much for giving this piece your rewarding comments.

 

goldenlangur


goldenlangur

 

 

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

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Aleksandra

Thanks to You GL for giving me chances to read something so beautiful. I am happy if I catch the details icon_smile.gif in right way.

 

I didn't know exactly that associations about Persimmon tree and local oracle's rites there. I am glad that I learned, thank you for sharing that part. Sure I know about this fruit and I must say this for somebody who doesn't know this , that this Persimmon tree, is very decorative tree, and looks wonderful, and the fruits are ripening the leaves are down, so on the tree you can see only the fruits, am I right GL? Rich with C vitamin icon_biggrin.png ... ( but I don't eat this fruit icon_razz.gif ) ah I am sorry I took another way here. icon_smile.gif Sorry GL icon_wink.gif

 

Thank you again my friend.

 

Aleksandra


The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

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goldenlangur

Hi Aleksandra,

Not at all - you've not read the reference to the Persimmon the wrong way - the wreath offering is a part of the local oracle's rites and the Persimmon tree is often chosen for this.

 

Yes when the fruits are ripe, the leaves fall off and one sees tangerine globules glistening in the autumn sun. Rich in Vitamin C? I must confess ignorance here. But the flesh of the ripened fruit is wonderful to smell and very sweet. We cut the fruit and sun dry for winter.

 

Thank you for returning with more thoughts,

 

goldenlangur


goldenlangur

 

 

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

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Tinker

I have to jump into this conversation, your talk of persimmons brought up memories. Long ago my friend's mother had a tree in her yard and we made cookies from persimmons. The cookies were very sweet and crunchy. I will have to look for the recipe. I haven't made these cookies in many years, not since my friend's mother passed.


~~ © ~~ Poems by Judi Van Gorder ~~

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

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Aleksandra

goldenlangur wrote:

 

Yes when the fruits are ripe, the leaves fall off and one sees tangerine globules glistening in the autumn sun. Rich in Vitamin C? I must confess ignorance here. But the flesh of the ripened fruit is wonderful to smell and very sweet.
We cut the fruit and sun dry for winter.

 

Ah yes it is rich with vitamin C and how wonderful you dry the fruit for winter icon_smile.gif I wait recipe icon_wink.gificon_biggrin.png send me pm icon_razz.gif

 

Alek


The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

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Bloodyday

perhaps, i want to send this to someone i never forget!

 

 

tears, tears, tears and lot's of depression groaning inside me!

 

 

How can a person withstand such emotions!

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Larsen M. Callirhoe
goldenlangur wrote:

 

Late night -

the gate glistens without a creak.

No, I'm not keeping a watch for you.

The wreath in the Persimmon grove

now hangs withered.

 

this stanza speaks of tradition that is withering because the wreath is not taken care of. the alliteration is very choice. a start to a good poem

 

Not even the young crows

in their faltering flight

through the trees

give it a second look.

 

the simillie works because young crows go thru faltering flight lol

 

The sun traverses

a monsoon-laden sky

to its autumn descent,

and the orange blossoms

bend with promise.

But I won't be waiting.

 

this stanza has beautiful imageries and a great metaphor the orange blossoms bend with promise. i think it is an excellent similie and metaphor.

 

 

I shall fill

this speckled blue goblet

with the swelling moon

and drink it.

But not in your name.

 

 

this stanza is awesome. the imagery is spectacular and original. i have to admit like youmuch of my poetry ideas come from visions and dreams. sometimes i write about my failed marriage with joyce who i miss dearly because she was so beautiful and god promised me a new wife named elizabeth in a little over ten yars. your poetry has that sametype of hope in it especially this poem.

 

 

goldenlangur

 

all in all this is an outstanding poem i much enjoyed. the imagrery is beautiful. you alliteration is spectacular for someone who i believe there primary language is not english. overall i enjoyed reading this. great imagnation mixed with non-fiction.

 

victor


Larsen M. Callirhoe

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Billydo

Hi GL

 

The poignancy of this is enhanced by your conversation with the departed. It lifts it, and for you, one lift higher is stratospheric.

 

Wonderful writing.

 

Cheers

 

Mike

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tonyv

I agree with Alek. There is a mix of anger and sadness that is present in this poem. You effectively use the repetition of ideas to highlight the anger:

No, I'm not keeping a watch for you ....

 

Not even the young crows

in their faltering flight

through the trees

give it a second look ....

 

... But I won't be waiting ....

 

... not in your name.

Even the title reinforces it.

 

The withered wreath signifies the passage of time. Still, the narrator has not healed.

 

Tony


Here is a link to an index of my works on this site: tonyv's Member Archive topic

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goldenlangur

Hi Tink,

 

 

Persimmon cookies sound positively delicious!

 

 

Hi Aleksandra - yes, dried persimmon, all kinds of berries, apple and pear rings are winter treats. The Mandarin orange season though gives us another wonderful fruit and we also have sugar cane.

 

 

Lovely to have this discussion about the persimmon and its nutritional value, of which I was ignorant till Aleksandra pointed out the vitamin content icon_smile.gif

 

 

 

goldenlangur


goldenlangur

 

 

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

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goldenlangur

You ask an impossible question, my friend:

 

Bloodyday wrote:

 

How can a person withstand such emotions!

 

 

The course of love never runs smooth is the wisdom but yes, its anguish can be unbearable.

 

 

I hope you'll write yourself out of this pain.

 

goldenlangur


goldenlangur

 

 

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

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goldenlangur

Hi Victor,

 

How generous of you to say this:

 

Larsen M. Callirhoe wrote:

 

..you alliteration is spectacular for someone who i believe there primary language is not english.

 

victor

 

I learned English at school and use it quite a lot but definitely not my mother tongue or primary language.

 

Your remark about the wreath and tradition is spot on and yes, there's a mix of a mad imagination and factual traditions and beliefs icon_smile.gif I'm so glad that you mention the passage about the young crows. Watching these inquisitive fledglings as their parents try to teach them the fundamentals of life, is absolutely fascinating!

 

 

A big thank you Victor for your great reading of this piece.

 

 

goldenlangur


goldenlangur

 

 

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

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goldenlangur

Hi Mike,

 

Lovely to see you pop in every now and then. Like you I too try to catch up with reading and reviewing here in PMO as much as I can in the short breaks I get from work. So I'm delighted that you took the trouble to read this and post your thoughts.

 

No one has ever said this before:

 

Billydo wrote:

 

Hi GL

It lifts it, and for you, one lift higher is stratospheric.

 

Cheers

 

Mike

 

So I'm truly chuffed icon_smile.gif

 

And yes, you've understood the unending conversations with the "departed".

 

 

Thank you so much,

 

goldenlangur


goldenlangur

 

 

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

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goldenlangur

Hi Tony,

 

You've nailed it:

 

tonyv wrote:

 

The withered wreath signifies the passage of time. Still, the narrator has not healed.

 

Tony

 

As ever, your perceptive reading enhances a piece and rewards the writer.

 

 

Thank you very much.

 

 

goldenlangur


goldenlangur

 

 

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

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badger11

A special poem gl, brimming with emotion and yet crafted, not spilling over.

 

 

badge icon_biggrin.png

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goldenlangur

Thank you dear friend.

 

 

I appreciate your reading this and for your thumbs-up.

 

 

 

icon_biggrin.png goldenlangur


goldenlangur

 

 

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

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Bloodyday

goldenlangur says

 

The course of love never runs smooth is the wisdom but yes, its anguish can be unbearable.

 

 

I hope you'll write yourself out of this pain.

 

i don't know my future or any kind of time warsps waiting for me but i swear this pain is unbearable. Only some bad fluids in veins can sooth one's mind!

 

i hate this feelings but it becomes inevitable for me. Take care!

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