It was in Ruwenzor
I found the Bashan bull,
The purple-headed mount
Was bathed in misty blue.
A monitor lizard
Was feeding on an egg,
When suddenly there swooped
An eagle like a stone,
Crushing in the mud
A portly guinea-fowl.
I saw the phoenix rise,
Its ashes swirling dust;
Pouring through a gorge
Milky-white opals.
The jungle roared in green
And ferns lept in the air;
The basilisk crept through
A crevice in the rocks,
And chameleons looked out,
Bursting into spray.
A leopard's staring eyes
Flung upon a deer,
And savage fury torn
By hungry crocodiles.
I saw a viper creep
Through lions in the shade.
A row of parakeets
Fluttered in a wave
And stormed a gorilla
Among the luscious fruit.
I saw huge elephants
Behind a splash of fronds;
Flaming honey bees;
The hippos in the stream
Skimmed by dragonflies;
A crowd of ibises;
A galaxy of stars;
Echoing in the night
From the top there poured
A glacier of ice.
Tan, I would echo what John has just said. You have rich imagery in you poems which you told me were written when you were 17. It is time to use those skills to write poems with more than just imagery. Raynette
this is sunningly beautiful language. I especially love the 'pheonix rising' lines, and the legitimate use of the beautiful word 'basilisk'. I'll make a note to read more of yours.
Absolutely beautiful. I enjoyed your technique and the language that was used as well as the meter. One of the best things I've read here for a while. Well Done! ! !
I totally agree with Joy and Max. A stunning poem, full of colour and wonder and perfect technique. You are extremely talented as a poet, so do please write some new ones.
Nice, very nice. It seems I was seeing all what you were describing.
Tan, I don't do drugs, but I swear that awesome vivid imagery was like listening to Pink Floyd and being bathed in their imagery. And I'm really good with visualizing. So that's a huge compliment to you!
A beautiful kaleidoscope of images, many gems set in a stirring rhythm. Your best that I've read and it will be in my favourites' list too. I feel I shall read it many times over, Tan.
I absolutely love the imagery in this poem! It makes me think of oil paint straight from the tube: vibrant, thick and glossy. It's a mere description of a scene, without a feeling attached to it, but it's very powerful. I wish I could see it with my eyes instead of my brain! You have rare skills in creating pictures... Excellent.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Much imagery - indeed, very rich - but I find little meaning. You obviously, at this age, had command of an important element in shaping poetry, but this element cannot stand by itself. I suspect you've matured. Unkill your muse. When I was 25, after 10 years of writing poetry, I wrote a poem that was gorgeous, which, upon my careful examination, said nothing at all. I right then quit writing poetry for 12 years, and my later work was the better for it. I spent those 12 years writing technical articles for Hot Rod Magazine, for audiences of a million readers at a time, and the experience of writing exactly, to exact points, informed my later, creative work. Your 19-year-old self needed a similar discipline. If you acquired it, start writing again.