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Aug 23, 2019
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Wait I'm Coming... [Primal Poetry Workshop]
Pulsating rhythm, chord of chants
Dancing with stars and gods
Who goes there?
Totems built of dreams
Animal spirits in the flames
Snakes in the grass
Ancestors speak of the past
Listen children...
Where have you gone?
Reaching out
Hold the vision
Wait for me
About This Poem
Last Few Words: Third poem and maybe the best?
Style/Type: Free verse
Review Request Direction: What did you think of my title?
Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft
Comments
Geezer
5 years 10 months ago
I had...
a vision of a shaman, sitting with a group of children; telling them the legends of their tribe and the children were giggling and not paying attention. I felt the urge to reach out and tell the shaman to wait, I would listen. That is where that came from. ~ Gee.
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Marthalyn
5 years 9 months ago
I get that
The creed of North American indigenous people has lost too much value after the white face conquerors arrived, stole their children and their language until only a few were left with stories of their ancestors to tell
weirdelf
5 years 10 months ago
[grins] we'll wait, Guy
try it a few more times. You just put on the drums, preferably with a sound system or headphones capable of a good bass sound, sit in a comfy chair, relax all your muscles starting from your toes, breathe deeply and slowly, close your eyes and start looking at the colours and shapes you see in the blackness. Don't try to control them, just watch. As the drumming continues you will start to see them coalescing into images, sometimes even narrative. It can help to imagine you are entering a tunnel that leads to another world.
When the drumming finishes, or when you know it is time, open your eyes and write down what you saw.