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The Mirror


goldenlangur
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goldenlangur

The Mirror

 

Full moon night –

cicadas drone and areca fronds

streak the mirror in his hands

in rippling shadows.

 

An icy blast mists the glass,

he hears that familiar sigh,

breathes her sandalwood perfume.

Phantom fingers trace his face.

 

The mirror is now a black pool,

I have paid my dues, he whispers.

 

 

goldenlangur

goldenlangur

 

 

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

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Wow, this took turn at "he hears that familiar sigh" for me and became really intimate. Something about the image of fingers and mist and glass is very sexual. I liked it.

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An otherworldly experience. The full moon night, the sounds of the insects, the shadows cast by the motion of the areca fronds, the smells of her perfume, and the fleeting touch of her fingers -- all are highly sensual and exciting. The last lines seem to blend despair with righteous indignation:

The mirror is now a black pool,

I have paid my dues
, he whispers.

I enjoyed the underlying theme of this ghostly write: alone, yet not alone, then still alone.

 

Tony

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

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Larsen M. Callirhoe

wow gongenlangur btw longtime no speal to eack other. you captured the mood of your poem several times over with your vivid imagery that is well painted thruout your poem. i loved all of it equally much and couldnt pick a favoed line from it. awesome poem my friend.

 

victor aka larsen

Larsen M. Callirhoe

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Aleksandra

Goldenlangur wonderful expressed poem my friend. Very quality expressions. So deep and vivid. It is compact poem,

well description:

Full moon night –

cicadas drone and areca fronds

streak the mirror in his hands

in rippling shadows.

then the way of the poem with a deep sense of poetical touches:

An icy blast mists the glass,

he hears that familiar sigh,

breathes her sandalwood perfume.

Phantom fingers trace his face.

and on the end a good precis, and closing of the imagery , but with empty space for to go on, because he just whispers...

 

The mirror is now a black pool,

I have paid my dues
, he whispers.

 

A wonderful write GL.

 

Aleksandra

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

History of Macedonia

 

 

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The last line, to me, sounds like, the prior sign of presence was more like castigating in purpose, leading to the reaction in the last line. I read the last line more like 'stop bugging me'.

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

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goldenlangur

Hello spauldhr,

 

Lovely to meet you! Thank you for your comments. I like how you read sensuality in the images here.

 

With appreciation,

 

goldenlangur

goldenlangur

 

 

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

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goldenlangur

Hi Tony,

 

My apologies for this delayed response to your wonderful reading of this piece. My computer packed in during an update and I've finally managed to retrieve much of my material and access my mail!

 

I'm delighted that you read the "otherworldly" aspect here and also that touch of "despair" and protest/indignation. Allegiance to one's ancestral deities has its darker side was my intent and you've grasped much of this very perceptively.

 

 

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 Victor,

 

Long time indeed since we spoke and exchanged ideas! I have missed your wistful, romantic poems and hope you'll post your work here soon.

 

Thank you so much for your generous endorsement of my writing. I'm very glad that you enjoyed the images in this one.

 

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

You've made my evening with your remark about how you found this piece "compact" . I'm trying to write with lesser details and more plain language and I'm delighted that you read this piece in that light.

 

Yes, "his voice" is one of despair and emptiness as the goddess can be capricious.

 

 

Thank you so much for your thoughtful reading.

 

goldenlangur

goldenlangur

 

 

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

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goldenlangur

I'm delighted by your interpretation JoelJosol. There's certainly "castigating" and a sense of being overhwlemed here.

 

A big thank you.

 

 

goldenlangur

goldenlangur

 

 

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

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Hi gl, I enjoyed this read. I was interesting that each time I read it, it seemed almost a different poem. First read it was romantic, then with a closer look, it was almost spooky. Probably other worldly fits better. The last line haunts me, a whole story the reader isn't privy to. This is a good one.

 

~~Tink

~~ © ~~ Poems by Judi Van Gorder ~~

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

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