In the Jungle

Beyond speech it is the
Sight of fresh rain over
A lone, ruined ruin. As
Pausing I pause and
Check my pockets for
Memories I left on stairs
To dark, bird-filled
Rooms.

Then aimless
Wanderings on days
When I plod with ancient
Elephants, elephants whose
Trunks crack and hack at
Rock beasts with worn
Out faces –
One eye,
Two teeth,
An ear that listens to forgotten
Music in the distance.

Mystic. Melancholy.

Smells of wasted Wats. The
Potent perfume of time
Etched on silent stones
That play a tune of war.
Memories washed away
With the falling, fragrant
Rain…

As I wander off with
Tales in my feet, tales
Of worn out steps and
Statues with heads so
Sadly lopped
Off.

14 thoughts on “In the Jungle

  1. vesperteen January 7, 2016 / 10:51 pm

    This is absolutely stunning in its imagery, and the creativity with which it is employed. You have a great gift. The final stanza is magnificent mysterious and somber. Keep writing, I’ll be reading.

    Like

  2. vesperteen January 7, 2016 / 10:54 pm

    This is absolutely stunning in its imagery, and the craft in which it is employed. You have a remarkable gift. The final stanza is magnificently mysterious and somber. Keep writing. I’ll be reading.

    Like

  3. Abhra January 7, 2016 / 11:00 pm

    The carelessness you build is beautiful and truly enjoyable. Welcome to OLN.

    Like

  4. Polly January 7, 2016 / 11:09 pm

    ‘The / Potent perfume of time / Etched on silent stones’ – most effective

    Like

  5. Bodhirose January 7, 2016 / 11:40 pm

    Many of those old temples hold statues with their heads, or other appendages, lopped off perhaps by those who didn’t have respect. I enjoyed this pensive tale of a trip to a jungle.

    Like

  6. katiemiafrederick January 8, 2016 / 1:40 am

    Wow.. really great
    poeTry.. hear.. and
    yes.. with music
    Oh God
    so lucky
    we are..
    at least
    Google
    and his/
    her kissin’
    cousin
    YouTube
    saviors heARts
    deeper than shalLow
    nows.. wHere we
    can still go
    deep as
    dares
    do
    go..:)

    Like

  7. Grace January 8, 2016 / 2:12 am

    Sounds like you have been travelling around ancient and mysterious cities ~ Thanks for joining us at D’verse ~

    Like

  8. Glenn Buttkus January 8, 2016 / 3:38 am

    I love the lost cities, the crumbling ruins, the E.R. Burroughs sights & smells, & although I will never travel there (the insects & reptiles dissuade me), still it is fun for you to share, to take me there.

    Like

  9. Björn Rudberg (brudberg) January 8, 2016 / 9:27 am

    This is amazing…I feel that you take me to one of those temples overgrown with greenery… So happy that you link up… the smells feels strong like you used the prompt on Tuesday…

    Like

  10. scotthastiepoet January 8, 2016 / 10:35 am

    A very telling and well written piece Matthew. I especially liked:

    “…The
    Potent perfume of time
    Etched on silent stones
    That play a tune of war.
    Memories washed away
    With the falling, fragrant
    Rain…”

    Great stuff!

    Like

  11. Sanaa Rizvi January 8, 2016 / 1:25 pm

    I agree, the images are absolutely stunning!!

    Like

  12. petrujviljoen January 8, 2016 / 7:49 pm

    I didn’t really think of an old temple in a jungle, the image that came up was of a house that was lived in and then left to ruin.

    Like

  13. kanzensakura January 8, 2016 / 9:35 pm

    Your wordsmithing and imagery takes my breath away. I’ve been to Angkor Wat and this poem of yours is spot on. so many lines makes me stop and read them twice – the lopped heads and arms, fragrance of memories washed away….this is a truly wonderful read and even better the third time.

    Like

  14. Gay Reiser Cannon January 8, 2016 / 11:22 pm

    Interesting a,lmost chorus like – effective use of repetition. This is an imagistic poem but holds out hope for more than images. The elephants give it depth and texture but not quite as a stand-alone metaphor. Well written. I enjoyed it.

    Like

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