| Author | Message | ||
| Emusing
Moderator Username: emusing Post Number: 2300 Registered: 08-2003 |
Talking Terlingua Wind is the coyote howl, cactus cannot bloom, rains do not reach. Below the desert varnish beneath the steps of all who have trodden, tarantulas still feed on the rings of Lorca’s moon, lizards languish in the heat, their tongues split from stone. I see a splinter of river in the distance, but it is only the last touch of saltbrush that stings the wind. I’ve searched for words to say you but you are the master of wilderness and I am the fakir of sand, proffering the empty bowl. You tell me it is full but I see no reflection, only my fortune in finding your faith, your friendship, your face. | ||
| R D McManes
Advanced Member Username: mac Post Number: 226 Registered: 03-2001 |
enjoyed the read, I like the desert images, gives the reader what I imagine a magic carpet ride would feel like. mac Mac | ||
| Karen L Monahan
Valued Member Username: klhmonahan Post Number: 244 Registered: 08-2004 |
very lovely. One nit: for words to say (to) you but you are the master (((smile))) Karen | ||
| LJ Cohen
Moderator Username: ljc Post Number: 3600 Registered: 07-2002 |
E--wow--this is a keeper. Quite a different atmosphere than the cold winter wind and the foot of snow we got yesterday! I love this start to finish. I think you need some commas here: for words to say you but you are the master of wilderness and I am the fakir of sand (COMMA) proffering the empty bowl. You tell me it is full but I see no reflection (COMMA) only my fortune in finding your faith, your friendship, your face. And the sound and images here are simply wonderful: tarantulas still feed on the rings of Lorca’s moon, lizards languish in the heat, their tongues split from stone. One of my favorites of yours, E. Well done. best, ljc http://ljcbluemuse.blogspot.com/ | ||
| Zephyr
Senior Member Username: zephyr Post Number: 3400 Registered: 07-2003 |
Lovely poem Emusing,loved you are the master of wilderness and I am the fakir of sand proffering the empty bowl. Only one small nit, I believe the past participle of tread is trod or trodden.  | ||
| michael julius sottak
Advanced Member Username: julius Post Number: 1896 Registered: 12-2003 |
well done, E... and I think z is right... but can't find a dictionary | ||
| Emusing
Moderator Username: emusing Post Number: 2319 Registered: 08-2003 |
Mac, thanks. I'm glad you liked the ride! Karen thank you. Guess what, that "to" does not belong in the poem, it is literally "for words to say you", a bit odd use of language but it works somehow Lisa thank you!! So happy this came across well. I have a feature this Monday with the person that is the subject of this poem. I hope he likes it. I'll add the commas. Zeph, I appreciate your kind comments. A nod to your trod I'll fix. Julius Merci bien. E | ||
| Gary Blankenship
Senior Member Username: garyb Post Number: 5837 Registered: 07-2001 |
I love this, but wonder at the start Wind is the coyote howl, cactus cannot bloom, rains do not reach. Below the desert varnish I read this as cactus does not bloom or rains reach the coyote's howl, which probably is not what you mean. I would only do the second , Calling forth Lorca is always right. Smiles. Gary The Eye of the Coming Storm http://www.mindfirerenew.com/ | ||
| Emusing
Moderator Username: emusing Post Number: 2320 Registered: 08-2003 |
Gar not sure what you mean. Are you saying drop the coyote? Thanks for your words. E | ||
| Gary Blankenship
Senior Member Username: garyb Post Number: 5856 Registered: 07-2001 |
No, saying I'm not sure I understand the first line and half Smiles. Gary December's FireWeed http://www.mindfirerenew.com/ | ||
| M. Kathryn Black
Senior Member Username: kathryn Post Number: 2903 Registered: 09-2002 |
E, fabulous poem full of great imagery. I hope I never see a tarantula out of its cage, though. Best, Kathryn | ||
| Emusing
Moderator Username: emusing Post Number: 2329 Registered: 08-2003 |
Gar, it's so dry, desolate, empty of any sign of water and so.... Wind is the coyote howl, cactus cannot bloom, rains do not reach. It means rains do not even reach this place because the climate is so arid. Don't dig too deep though since it's a metaphor Kathryn, "fabulous" is a very lovely word to read. Thank you! I'm not fond of those hairy legged beasts either. Just saw a documentary about spiders in the amazon's whose legs were as big around as your finger! They live in trees. E | ||
| Gary Blankenship
Senior Member Username: garyb Post Number: 5858 Registered: 07-2001 |
I see it now. thanks. Gary December's FireWeed http://www.mindfirerenew.com/ |
