Nordic cloud

Jan 23, 2010 ⭐ View statistics (Premium feature)

THINK OF ME

"Think of me"

If red ribbons bind my coffin white
just think of me
before the light of day
sinks in the sky
to colour your horizon
purple, crimson, yellow,
of mellow thoughts
that with the nightingale,
on undulating notes,
fills all the wood with sound,
like the dying of the bugle
wakes birds of night’s dark shawl
in profound black;

where bats and moths
caress the flowers
where lilies become spectres
dancing slowly in the hours,
their scents
diffused
float gently through the trees,
like those on puffs of wind,
like seeds of new life
bodiless and frail,
this place I describe is,
and shall be ever more,
my holy grail.

slippered orchids tread
their velvet flecks
of red
in dappled moonlight
fall of leaves
make sudden careful sound
as on the ground they form a pile
my pyre,
so let the illusion of visions
spectres
pass my way,
and with their magic,
light a fire,
transform my bones
to join their songs
in frames of conduct,
and don a spiders web
through the gaunt woods of death
defend my breath each step I tread
soft yet determined to proceed
where all that lived have seen
beyond the finite
into the unseen,
beyond,
beyond,
to there where infinity
becomes eternity
infinity becomes finite,
as I fade into the embrace of this
the darkest night I have to face
no mortal place,
no grace,
no other place to be,
no sight
no breath.
no night

— Nordic cloud, Jan 23, 2010

About the Author

Region, Country: Oslo and Flatdal, Norway., NOR

Favorite Poets: Too daunting this.

Critiques

Nordic cloud

16 years 4 months ago

I don’t expect or even

I don't expect or even wish anybody to give me a second thought when I die, that's the end of me and basta, no more. I do not have the desire to be immortal, known, lauded after my death, I will BE no more and become part of there where I came from, or am going to, just expired into the nothingness of no life. Amen. Ann

Seren

16 years 4 months ago

Dear Dear Ann

Ahhhh but dear one you may not be anymore but your words and your thoughts live on in your poetry ... you have yet to reach the heights of which I think you capable imo ... your a beautiful weaver of words dear one never ever doubt that ... I loved your write I had a lump in my throat after the first verse ... that does not happen often for me ... I will come back and check for faults and make some suggestions I have been hell tired the last few days and I wait for night to come to it doesnt zap my energy hot work sitting in front of a computer lol ;) love you and mountains of hugs Jayne-Chloe x x x

Kailashana

16 years 4 months ago

“What we do for ourselves

"What we do for ourselves dies with us. What we do for others and the world remains and is immortal." Albert Pine This is one of the most beautiful poems I have read here on Neopoet dear sister of the Northern Lights, and it is *yours*. It is the love we leave behind that leaves a trace... the precious scent of memory. Hugs, Anna

Nordic cloud

16 years 4 months ago

It was you who inspired it Anna

My most beautiful sister, I feel elevated to angelic white robes when you say such things to me, you of the ethereal elements, the magic woman from Ohio, you, I am honoured to be called your sister. Thank you and dearest Jayne too for your interest, yes do come back and see if we can makeit even better, thank you. Love, yes oceans of it is in my heart, some for you two too!!!!!! AnnXXOO

Seren

16 years 4 months ago

I promied to come back and I

I promied to come back and I did lol ... I have just done a whole edit ... I am practicing my critquing so here goes my suggestions for your poem ... just how I would have wrote it ...see what you think remember I am practicing lol love you Jayne x x x If red ribbons bind my coffin white just think of me before the light of day sinks in the sky to colour your horizon purple, crimson, yellow, of mellow thoughts that with the nightingale, on undulating notes, fills all wood with sound, like the dying of the bugle wakes birds of night’s dark shawl in profound black; where bats and moths caress the flowers where lilies become spectres dancing slowly in the hours, their scents diffused float gently through the trees, like souls (born) on puffs of wind, like seeds of new life bodiless and frail, this place I describe is, and shall be ever more, my holy grail. slippered orchids tread their velvet flecks of red in dappled moonlight (a) fall of leaves make sudden careful sound (as the ground does form in) piles (upon) my funeral pyre, so let the elves and goblins, fairies, wizards, souless spectres pass my way, and with their magic, light a fire, transform my bones to join their songs in frames of conduct, and don a spiders web through the gaunt woods of death defend my breath each step I tread soft yet determined to proceed where all that lived have seen beyond the finite into the unseen, beyond, beyond, to there where infinity becomes eternity infinity becomes finite, as I fade into the embrace of this the darkest night I face, no mortal place, no grace, no other place to be, no sight no breath no night no…more.

Nordic cloud

16 years 4 months ago

Thank you Jayne for your critique

I tried to put what I have put now up there down here but no it wouldn't, without me having to divide every single line again and that I wouldn't do!!!!!!! Thank you Jayne for your critique, I will see what others think too, it was kind of your to do this for me and many bits I agree with too, but I will see if anyone has thoughts on it before I change it. okay? Love to you you kind person, Ann.

loved

16 years 4 months ago

AND UR VIEWS FOR ME

ANN MA'AM Once you were kind enough To comment only on my poetry You gave me the heavenly kick That anyone could see Now it’s the first poem of yours I happen to read What is poetry? Only you know indeed. I am a simple passer by Wait, not even that None at me shall ever glance There will be with words No romance As words flow out of my mind, I don't damn then care Who thinks what of me? Or my poetry. For I write it as it comes to me I am no critic worth The salt in my bones When I read you again It will be ahs and ayes That I shall always give Neither nays nor don'ts For I am just a passer by Amongst stalwarts over here I do hope some day some one Also remembers me Like you ma'am You’re one of the finest poets On whom I can lay my hands. I am just a smaller Off the cuff poet Do pardon me For words that I shouldn’t have said To and or for thee.

hugo la rosa

16 years 4 months ago

Dear Ann:

Your idea of death resembles a Heaven to me. Ah, Nature's loving ways! Being embraced by the tender oblivion of the Self, isn't that a kind of bliss? Sincerely, Hugo

loved

16 years 4 months ago

YOUR VIEWS PLEAS

bjp

16 years 4 months ago

Dear Margaret Ann,

Loved the first stanza and elements in the second and third. Your favourite words, which are other's favourite words, crept into the last two stanzas. Oh gentle Margaret Ann, please mutilate those favourite words! Machete them and serve them in curry with chutneyed souls a la frap de cannonade! Insert pins into the eardrums of those words, that they, now deaf, will mumble their silly-balls and cause enunciating words to be plucked and placed upon the heath and hearth of your poems! Brian

Nordic cloud

16 years 4 months ago

Touché I am sure Monsieur Brian

My mind dictates to me as I go, I do not from the thoughts and then mull on the exact words that fit, they come, but you are surely right, I am not sure which are the words of others, unawares they creep up on my and feel right in that place and if they fit are written, I wrote this just before posting so...haven't perused it much myself. My hearth will soon take off into the porridge of the murky sky and die, a death so ghastly that I cry; but do we not use the a same vocabulary in different ways each time the dance the same, the theme the same but yet another rhyme? I smile and am happy at your comment Brian, and smile again and even laugh, good to have someone to pinch my toes I like that, not too much or I will laugh myself silly, but then perhaps.... Love to you Brian and thank you!

bjp

16 years 4 months ago

Dear Margaret Ann,

The favourite words are "souls," "holy grail" and "mortal." Funeral pyre is a redundancy since there is no pyre without a funeral. Then there are the elves but I think that they may be holy, so I won't go there. But these are the nitty details to a poem that has a lot going for it. Brian

RobertKnott

16 years 4 months ago

Wherein...

immortal, you will become a flower, gifting seed as you you have already in your life lovely. xo :) R

Nordic cloud

16 years 4 months ago

Dear RobertKnott

Dear RobertKnott and if not and what not and so not bad not, oops where was I? Oh don't you know how to put it Robert, so beautifully so flatteringly, I am moved. Thank you. Ann.

lyz

16 years 4 months ago

Dear one

The tears are flowing, with my catch ups, I came to this, written in perfection I say, but you know why I cry. I loved the read, and the beauty you have instilled. I am at a loss for words at this moment, I will be back to re read. Love to you. Lyz. XX

Nordic cloud

16 years 4 months ago

You ever sweet Lyz

I have experienced this although not dead!! I mean I have seen the wood, its in Denmark beside the sea, where the giant beech trees hang nearly to the ground with their great arm-like branches, and where suddenly, the nightingale sang, I stood stock still,l and let the wood take over all of me in its atmosphere, darkened by the many green leaves, and there it is, the setting for this poem, imagined at twilight, it was the middle of a hot summers day but so dark in contrast, like life after rather than before death. Such moments live in ones memory and colour ones palette when painting in words. Thank you Lyz love from Ann.

lyz

16 years 4 months ago

And what a palette

You are as colorful as all you have written. Applaud. Love Lyz. XX

loved

16 years 4 months ago

HI LYZ

UR WORTHY COMMENTS FOR ME ON MY POETRY ANN MA'AMM Once you were kind enough To comment only on my poetry You gave me the heavenly kick That anyone could see Now it’s the first poem of yours I happen to read What is poetry? Only you know indeed. I am a simple passer by Wait, not even that None at me shall ever glance There will be with words No romance As words flow out of my mind, I don't damn then care Who thinks what of me? Or my poetry. For I write it as it comes to me I am no critic worth The salt in my bones When I read you again It will be ahs and ayes That I shall always give Neither nays nor don'ts For I am just a passer by Amongst stalwarts over here I do hope some day some one Also remembers me Like you ma'am You’re one of the finest poets On whom I can lay my hands. I am just a smaller Off the cuff poet Do pardon me For words that I shouldn’t have said To and or for thee.

franny50

16 years 4 months ago

A lovely write!Your poem is

A lovely write!Your poem is filled with such imagery!

Nordic cloud

16 years 4 months ago

Thank you Franny

As you see from the comment to Lyz, the places that have inspired me are such, the beautiful graveyards of some places too, the twilight treed woods are always magic to me. And as one dies I imagine all the fairy tale-like images cross one's mind, as one is going into a fairy tale place, unknown and mysterious, therefore the imagination is jogged by such a happening. I don't know! Love from Ann, in the Winter wild woods of Norway where the shadows play games in the moonlight on the snow, and the blue glow is uncanny.

loved

16 years 4 months ago

YOUR COMMENTS ON MY POEM PLEASE

DawningDaytripper

16 years 4 months ago

Profound Ann. No matter your

Profound Ann. No matter your preferance for being remembered I am sure very many will remember you for a long time to come. That was amazing. Thanks for sharing. I have not a suggestion for I was entranced in your descriptons and charecters. Your pupil in poetry, Julie D.D.

Nordic cloud

16 years 4 months ago

Sweet Julie

How lovely to stir the profound thoughts in your mind, Julie. My pupil!! Oh are we not all pupils of each other? None of us have the magic recipe for the use of the wiles of each our brians, and it is with the interplay of our senses we see and feel different things with different poetry and can help each other where the flow, or the thought, gets tripped up, we can catch the other before they fall and make something that sings its own song and becomes a good poem. But thank you for the compliment (and the stars)Julie, and as your 'teacher' I will endeavour to give the limited help I can, as best I can. Love from Ann of Norway

loved

16 years 4 months ago

we all neeed to remember

your kind views on my poem please thanks ANN MA'AM Once you were kind enough To comment only on my poetry You gave me the heavenly kick That anyone could see Now it’s the first poem of yours I happen to read What is poetry? Only you know indeed. I am a simple passer by Wait, not even that None at me shall ever glance There will be with words No romance As words flow out of my mind, I don't damn then care Who thinks what of me? Or my poetry. For I write it as it comes to me I am no critic worth The salt in my bones When I read you again It will be ahs and ayes That I shall always give Neither nays nor don'ts For I am just a passer by Amongst stalwarts over here I do hope some day some one Also remembers me Like you ma'am You’re one of the finest poets On whom I can lay my hands. I am just a smaller Off the cuff poet Do pardon me For words that I shouldn’t have said To and or for thee.

xena465

16 years 4 months ago

You'll be lost to Nepoets

I love this poem but it saddens me too. You'll have more than a second thought after you die because of the kind constructive comments and stories you relate to your friends on Neo. A lot of your friends comment on my poems and I see you many times and read all your comments to them and, like I say, you're great and I believe you are a big part in their growth, your comments help me grow too. xena465

Nordic cloud

16 years 4 months ago

I'm not dead yet !

Oh how sweet you are Xena, how lovely to hear your kind remark, well if something positive remains then I'm glad for that, but then I shall never know of it. But now, I am here alive and can enjoy your expressions and that is heart warming, thank you. I do my best in my comments and even enjoy myself thoroughly, but not always concentrating on the needs of the writer, sometimes getting carried away creating my own thing, but always related to the poem; and as I have said here before I am unschooled in the art of poetry, having taken art as my bent, and only kept up literature by some reading and a great deal of writing, mainly of letters, and when I moved to Norway my mother received two or three very long one's per week, and she was just as prolific, writing half of them under the glue at the edges of the air mail, and in writing that, in the end, only I could read, almost like code!!! She LOVED poetry and would quote often when the moment arose, such as the sight of a kingfisher darting past, or some other such moment that enthralled her. Thank you again dear Xena love from Ann of Norway

loved

16 years 4 months ago

your words of kind appreciation please

poem Ann Ma'am Once you were kind enough To comment only on my poetry You gave me the heavenly kick That anyone could see Now it’s the first poem of yours I happen to read What is poetry? Only you know indeed. I am a simple passer by Wait, not even that None at me shall ever glance There will be with words No romance As words flow out of my mind, I don't damn then care Who thinks what of me? Or my poetry. For I write it as it comes to me I am no critic worth The salt in my bones When I read you again It will be ahs and ayes That I shall always give Neither nays nor don'ts For I am just a passer by Amongst stalwarts over here I do hope some day some one Also remembers me Like you ma'am You’re one of the finest poets On whom I can lay my hands. I am just a smaller Off the cuff poet Do pardon me For words that I shouldn’t have said To and or for thee.

Electric Blue

16 years 4 months ago

Think of me

Ann I wrote a poem called Remember Me it is how I want to be remembered. I do not want to be stuck in the ground for people to come and visit and then forget. I want to be scattered on the wind over the ocean to travel over mountains and seas through the universe. A tumbleweed am I. Your poety is full of colour and vision this is amazing Electric Blue

Nordic cloud

16 years 4 months ago

Maggie of the woods and seashore,

Thank you my Maggie of the woods and seashore, that is coming from someone I can see understands my mind and can flow through the thoughts in nature with me. Thank you Maggie and love as aye from Ann

loved

16 years 4 months ago

YOUR VIEWS PLEASE

Ann Ma'am Once you were kind enough To comment only on my poetry You gave me the heavenly kick That anyone could see Now it’s the first poem of yours I happen to read What is poetry? Only you know indeed. I am a simple passer by Wait, not even that None at me shall ever glance There will be with words No romance As words flow out of my mind, I don't damn then care Who thinks what of me? Or my poetry. For I write it as it comes to me I am no critic worth The salt in my bones When I read you again It will be ahs and ayes That I shall always give Neither nays nor don'ts For I am just a passer by Amongst stalwarts over here I do hope some day some one Also remembers me Like you ma'am You’re one of the finest poets On whom I can lay my hands. I am just a smaller Off the cuff poet Do pardon me For words that I shouldn’t have said To and or for thee.

Geremia

16 years 4 months ago

J.B. Longo-GeremiaJust so

J.B. Longo-Geremia Just so beautifully said, Anna dalla Norvegia! Longobardolino

Nordic cloud

16 years 4 months ago

Grazie il mio Longobardolino,

Grazie il mio Longobardolino, this one was on the same subject that is close to your heart I believe, and being so strums rhythms on the same instrument, music that we both ponder and enjoy contemplating, so I can see why you thought of it as you did, but thank you so very much for venturing out to read it, I know that is a very great compliment to me. Il tua Annuccia

loved

16 years 4 months ago

SIR PLEASE BE KIND

MY POEM HAVE I ANY ACUMEN ON A POEM FOR ANN MA'AM I HAVE WRITTEN Once you were kind enough To comment only on my poetry You gave me the heavenly kick That anyone could see Now it’s the first poem of yours I happen to read What is poetry? Only you know indeed. I am a simple passer by Wait, not even that None at me shall ever glance There will be with words No romance As words flow out of my mind, I don't damn then care Who thinks what of me? Or my poetry. For I write it as it comes to me I am no critic worth The salt in my bones When I read you again It will be ahs and ayes That I shall always give Neither nays nor don'ts For I am just a passer by Amongst stalwarts over here I do hope some day some one Also remembers me Like you ma'am You’re one of the finest poets On whom I can lay my hands. I am just a smaller Off the cuff poet Do pardon me For words that I shouldn’t have said To and or for thee.

Lunegirl

16 years 4 months ago

Beautiful!! One lovely line

Beautiful!! One lovely line after another and an unassuming comment underneath!! I believe that as we are all made of energy, what ever you are in life will be scattered in waves and passed to other things. this is a truely poetic piece. vicki

Nordic cloud

16 years 4 months ago

Madame Vicky

Thank you for your sympathetic (sympatico) comment, I like the picture you paint here too, yes! Love Ann of Norway

loved

16 years 4 months ago

hello vicki

can u be so very kind to read some of my poems and render ur invaluable advice please .thanks and regards .like i wrote this one for ANNmA'AM Once you were kind enough To comment only on my poetry You gave me the heavenly kick That anyone could see Now it’s the first poem of yours I happen to read What is poetry? Only you know indeed. I am a simple passer by Wait, not even that None at me shall ever glance There will be with words No romance As words flow out of my mind, I don't damn then care Who thinks what of me? Or my poetry. For I write it as it comes to me I am no critic worth The salt in my bones When I read you again It will be ahs and ayes That I shall always give Neither nays nor don'ts For I am just a passer by Amongst stalwarts over here I do hope some day some one Also remembers me Like you ma'am You’re one of the finest poets On whom I can lay my hands. I am just a smaller Off the cuff poet Do pardon me For words that I shouldn’t have said To and or for thee. LOVED

orgami

16 years 4 months ago

astounding account Ann

your poems are always provocative in thought and detail reminding me of the written works I see at the little gallery above the cash a cheque and pizza place downtown artists who write for the viewer to ponder and pictures and sometimes a viewer showing the movie via a USB plug in Maybe I will become more concerned with creating beyond poetry too now that i am older and death could be close your poems makes me appreciate the thoughts of the poet thank you

Nordic cloud

16 years 4 months ago

Steven the King Orgami

There you are with LOVE on your hand, is it? Looking intently at us, me, just now Orgami, and writing delightful comments as aye, with a fullness of insightful innuendoes that spice your every utterance and make us wander behind you picking up the gems, the diamonds of words you spread as you stride, or should I say speed by, you being fond of the fast life? And here you come with a robe of heavy embossed velvet that shines in different colours in different lights and I am so happy to have offered for your glance a little piece of paper with my poem on it, thank you. I wonder what "creating beyond poetry" means, that is a provocative thought? I loved living into this poem as if I were already part of the sound of the nightingale blowing in the gentle night breezes forever. Life is certainly a play in which we act our parts, we have to learn how to act, as all we do is some kind of act, and we get better at it or not, sometimes not paying enough attention to the beauty we could become with just a little thought as to how we would wish to fit into this most beautiful, wonderful, seemingly magic world of ours; walk tall all you poets for you have the threads with which to weave the most lovely gowns in this universe and to dance to the most beautiful music, that of the word with all its inbuilt qualities of sound, of meaning, of shape, so dance, just dance and keep on dancing until you drop. We all continue dancing in our minds anyway, be it a sad dance or a happy one like the seed pods of all nature we dance till we reach the ground. Love to you and a big thankyou Orgami from Ann in the woods.

loved

16 years 4 months ago

Dear Sir

I loved your comments for Ann Ma'am's poetry can you please be kind enough to comment on some of mine too .thanks like this one i wrote for Ann ma'am Once you were kind enough To comment only on my poetry You gave me the heavenly kick That anyone could see Now it’s the first poem of yours I happen to read What is poetry? Only you know indeed. I am a simple passer by Wait, not even that None at me shall ever glance There will be with words No romance As words flow out of my mind, I don't damn then care Who thinks what of me? Or my poetry. For I write it as it comes to me I am no critic worth The salt in my bones When I read you again It will be ahs and ayes That I shall always give Neither nays nor don'ts For I am just a passer by Amongst stalwarts over here I do hope some day some one Also remembers me Like you ma'am You’re one of the finest poets On whom I can lay my hands. I am just a smaller Off the cuff poet Do pardon me For words that I shouldn’t have said To and or for thee. Loved

Seren

16 years 4 months ago

Dearest Ann

I just saw you in evolution with this poem and I had to come and congratulate you on the work you have done on this one ... its really wonderful what you have done with it and you've made it your own ... brilliant write and one of my favourites of yours love and biggest hugs Jayne-Chloe x x x x x

Nordic cloud

16 years 4 months ago

Jayne stretched out her hand for me

A lot thanks to my dear friend Jayne Chloe, she stretched out her hand for me and it became better AND I took out the "favourite words" for Brian, in total agreement with him!! So it was blessed with your touches thank you both. As aye Anskie bird Brian the pixies and goblins, dwarfs and faeries are fitting in their 'environment', with children especially, they are not sacred for me, they are lovely sounding evocative names casting the atmosphere they must all have for us from our own childhood, so full of mystery and adventure that the aura of their magic hangs again in these evocative places. Okay!!Ann

loved

16 years 4 months ago

Dear Ma'am

PLEASE ALSO DO READ AND COMMENT ON SOME OF MY POETRY TOO THANKS LIKE THIS ONE I WROTE FOR Ann MA'AM Once you were kind enough To comment only on my poetry You gave me the heavenly kick That anyone could see Now it’s the first poem of yours I happen to read What is poetry? Only you know indeed. I am a simple passer by Wait, not even that None at me shall ever glance There will be with words No romance As words flow out of my mind, I don't damn then care Who thinks what of me? Or my poetry. For I write it as it comes to me I am no critic worth The salt in my bones When I read you again It will be ahs and ayes That I shall always give Neither nays nor don'ts For I am just a passer by Amongst stalwarts over here I do hope some day some one Also remembers me Like you ma'am You’re one of the finest poets On whom I can lay my hands. I am just a smaller Off the cuff poet Do pardon me For words that I shouldn’t have said To and or for thee. Loved

U K Atiyodi

16 years 4 months ago

Dejected Why?

From time immemorial we think of rebirth. It is not a scientific idea. Resurrection gives an opportunity for fulfilment. It also leaves hope. The concept is rooted in soul. 'The soul will march on' It may be a dream, but it pacifies. Or the universal mind awaits to absorb our soul. Just a relieving for better access. We have a mind that roams and let us roam towards optimism, a life reborn. All the best.

loved

16 years 4 months ago

What is Poetry

Once you were kind enough To comment only on my poetry You gave me the heavenly kick That anyone could see Now it’s the first poem of yours I happen to read What is poetry? Only you know indeed. I am a simple passer by Wait, not even that None at me shall ever glance There will be with words No romance As words flow out of my mind, I don't damn then care Who thinks what of me? Or my poetry. For I write it as it comes to me I am no critic worth The salt in my bones When I read you again It will be ahs and ayes That I shall always give Neither nays nor don'ts For I am just a passer by Amongst stalwarts over here I do hope some day some one Also remembers me Like you ma'am You’re one of the finest poets On whom I can lay my hands. I am just a smaller Off the cuff poet Do pardon me For words that I shouldn’t have said To and or for thee.

Nordic cloud

16 years 4 months ago

"loved"

Now you have filled the page and it reaches so far, are you fishing? I hope you catch what you want, and that it bears fruits of understanding for you and of you. I thank you for judging me of value as a poet, that is so exciting having not done so much for so long, I am goaded up by your comment and others who have helped me in so many ways and I am happy, so happy with this interaction with others all over the world, you are my next-door-neighbours, and I can say hi each day if I feel like it, wonderful wonderful opportunities on this magic machine, something our grandparents could never have even dreamed of, I will drink a toast to the development of this data exchange, and to Neopoets in particular for their- our- part in its expressions. I remember my own grandfather putting on his earphones to listen to the valve radio my father had built with his own inventiveness, and looking up at us in perfect astonishment when he heard some of his favourite music from a concert in London, he had tears in his eyes, he was so moved by the possibility. Rock on "loved" hope that name is the case too! From Ann of Norway with thanks.

RobertKnott

16 years 4 months ago

Ah.......love!-

has't thou knott describeth? What candle holds its self valiant agin' a wind, should wind compare? say you here(of your friends) that they see you not? Readers voice their knowing bowing vows! Long may their voice- your voice; their love; your vows of remembrance through beauty held dear, marry dearly; and carry nearly that which embraces love grown deep through you.

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