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Post by goldenmyst on Jan 5, 2022 21:49:16 GMT -6
Potala Blues
Lhasa roars like a lion in the night Only to breathe the fire of a dragon When conch shells are blown To sing the snowflakes Into tuning fork lattices of desolation That awaken the ghosts of the Potala Who rise into vaporous beings of light When the museum whispers to lost sutras Of a chorus of dharma drums In a séance of tears
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Post by Deleted on Jan 8, 2022 19:07:28 GMT -6
Some deep stuff here! Great imagery and sound too! It's like a deep monotone, so I heard anyway, like being in a tomb or something, great acoustics! Moves like slow-motion in my mind with the imagery, spirit.
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Post by goldenmyst on Jan 8, 2022 19:11:31 GMT -6
Michael, your impressions of my poem ran deep and with a resonant ambiance that I truly appreciated. This poem is set in the Potala palace of Lhasa Tibet where the Dali Lama and his monks lived before the Chinese invasion. I am imagining the ghosts that may haunt the palace longing for the return of the Dalai Lama much as the Tibetan people do.
John
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Post by oldarmybear on Jan 14, 2022 13:35:13 GMT -6
this is deep. I found it hard to put together, John perhaps some punctuation would make it easier to follow.
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Post by goldenmyst on Jan 14, 2022 17:36:30 GMT -6
It does take a detailed familiarity with the modern history and culture of Tibet. So I can understand why you may have had difficulty putting it together as no doubt many would.
John
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