Keith O.J. Hunt Poet Rhyme

The Magician's Hall

The wind is in the west 

   and the moon large and low,

   the tapered horizon aglow

   with the recesses of a withered day;


How symphonic a minstrel display,

   tallied up like gathered notes to eve's call,

   and the swooning lake ----


How the waves chase the eastern fringes of the bay,

   they ask not why they go this way 

   (or that)

   yet merely harken God's call 

   as they persist their way,

   fain without promise.....


And cresting my observations,

   as if in some pantomime-movie play ----

   I mused:


Where is the Projector?

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Arthur Vaso June 21, 2014 at 2:35 PM Yes Keith that's the one, I play guitar but classical, I love the group Uriah Heep! For some reason I was sure you would know this group, cheers.

Arthur Vaso June 20, 2014 at 11:01 PM You are a very creative poet, with the same style you come up with something totally different, this for some reason reminds me a song called "The magicans birthday" Another great write Keith Keith O.J. Hunt June 21, 2014 at 1:13 PM Thanks arthur, 'The Magician's Birthday?' Uriah Heep, right? ....He was the wizard of a thousand kings! Great song, I can play it on guitar Always~~Keith

Justin Bordner June 15, 2014 at 8:38 PM Good question Keith. Perhaps the projector is working from everything in the Univrrse being in motion simultaneously. I admire how you describe the waves, knowing their purpose, trusting their aim. For me that's the import of this poem, the metaphysics freewill, will power, and whete the motion of the greater cosmos is taking us. J.A.B.

Malkavian Raven June 15, 2014 at 8:28 PM Keith, thank you for stopping by and reading 'Calypso'. I will start working my way down through your works and commenting along the way. This is a great piece you've written here. We are all at the mercy of the cosmos, but by whose hand are we moved? Love this, definitely will be bookmarking this. ~ Raven

Paul Callus June 15, 2014 at 1:49 PM Hi Keith; this is another very good write of yours. Forgive my not stopping by frequently, but time is never on my side! Here you project images that capture mind and soul while using rich descriptive material. well done. // paul Keith O.J. Hunt June 15, 2014 at 2:14 PM Thanks Paul, I too am so time stretched --- today is one day I actually have time to surf the soup! Always ~~Keith~~

Robert Lindley June 15, 2014 at 7:11 AM Jake, another wonderful write and as always a truly great pleasure to read.

Anne-Lise Andresen June 13, 2014 at 1:00 PM - A very talented poem, Keith .... truly a pleasure to read - Have a nice weekend! - oxox // Anne-Lise :)

Debbie Guzzi June 12, 2014 at 11:34 AM The projector maybe your brain or your eye? Light & Love

Cherl Dunn June 11, 2014 at 8:57 PM Wow love how your imagination in this poem sweeps the reader away on journey of the mind. I totally was caught up in your words of expression, great job you blew me away with this heart felt work. I will be back to read more tomorrow. cheri

Carolyn Devonshire June 10, 2014 at 6:02 PM Oh dear, you don't have email. There is another site with many published poets and they give excellent, in-depth critiques on the poems there. Wish I could find a way to contact you. Jack Horne, Deb Guzzie and Paul Callus all have my email address. Still, you would have to send a Soup Mail to them to get my address. I was threatened here once via Soup Mail, so I don't have it either. Keith O.J. Hunt June 11, 2014 at 9:52 AM You are so wonderful Carolyn.... I sent you my email address on one of your many old poems; I'm going to get a membership here eventually I hope this helps!

Carolyn Devonshire June 10, 2014 at 5:59 PM Dear Keith, "YOU" are the projector. You create not only images but also feelings in all of your poems. Your description of "recesses of a withered day" are magnificent. I'm sending a Soup Mail to you. This poem (and poet) deserve a wider audience. Bravo! Love, Carolyn