Review: David Hinton’s “Hunger Mountain”
by Miles Raymer
In mornings dark, days Unborn
Bathed in pools of artificial light
I find myself, trappings all
At the base of Hunger Mountain
David Hinton smiles, ancient sages at his back
All smiling, all mysterious
As if knowing some unknowable
And not sharing
We begin up the Mountain
Sometimes wandering, leaves in watery eddies
Sometimes bounding, deer desperate for high ground
Always moving, never still
We find trees of Sincerity, pulling life from every place, giving it back
Inside is outside
We pass rocks of Friendship, each lonely and self-contained
Yet nestled with others, snug
We are on the Mountain, in the Mountain, of the Mountain
It makes us Empty, and fills us
I’m caught in this Ritual
Every morning rising from my quiet kitchen
Into misty pathways, quiet corridors with boundaries all my own
The Ego Tunnel
Hinton is above, driving, hungry
He is Dragon
Insatiable generation, enfolding and refolding, burning
Blinded by word, as I am
I lose him around the bends, wends in the woods
He empties himself into me, generous
When my head is right, I am Absence
He is Presence
My resistance is my burden
The Gate through which I cannot pass
To meet Hinton at his tranquil summit
I once waited at a near-peak while friends gained ground
Afraid, but safe, I thought
I was not safe
These words are soft, a Dark-Enigma glowing faintly
At the borders
Rich and full of promise, like the soil
My spade slices
Like the mulch
My rake gathers
Like the dew
My boots trample
Like the Sun
My eyes rejoice, and retreat
There is a place, beneath an apple tree
A chair, inherited from a confused grandmother
A table, redwood round sawed flat
A stillness, an opening
Heaven and Earth
Sometimes I get there, forget myself
And play
Hinton is still ahead of me, grinning
He is a trickster demon, but kind
I cannot follow him up every slope
Fearful of forgetting my path
Wrestling with all the contradictions
Of the day, and still knowing
Nature cannot contradict itself
As I can
So empty out these rain barrels
Dash this experience
Send it tumbling into the earth
And Bow to the sticky center
Of the spider’s web
Rating: 7/10
so why only 3 stars? pretty good for a guy who doesn’t write poetry.
7 out of 10 (or three stars) is my normal rating for a book that’s enjoyable and interesting, but not particularly impressive or emotionally affecting. I liked the book, and was happy that it gave me the idea of writing a poem instead of a regular review, but didn’t feel moved to give it a higher rating.