Online journal capturing the moment and the memory of moments. A meadow meditation. |
L'aura del campo 'é a lua, é a lua, na quintana dos mortos' ♣ Federico García Lorca ♣ L'aura del campo. A breeze in the meadow. So it began the last day of Spring, 2005; on the 16th day of the month of Light of the year 162. This is a supplement to my daily journal written to a friend, my muse; notes I do not share. Here I will share what the breeze has whispered to me. PLEASE LEAVE COMMENTS! I LV COMMENTS! On a practical note, in answer to your questions: IN MEMORIUM VerySara passed away November 12, 2005 Please visit her port to read her poems and her writings. More suggested links: These pictures rotate. Kåre Enga ~ until everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow! And I let the fish go. ~ Elizabeth Bishop, The Fish |
Cavern of rhythmic sobs Here we peruse rows of titles, black inked pages, colored covers, pats-on-the back from fellow poets: untruths and bald-faced lies. We come here on sticky days when fans stir thick air. We sit on leather or hard backed chairs. Walls echo aimless chatter. We focus on words these poets share. Their bald-faced-lies that pass as truth. Then a kernel of truth becomes a seed of a poem that will change lives. In this cavern of rhythmic sobs we weep over uncovered lies. © Kåre Enga 2015.06.27 Written while Jill Koren read from her book of poems at Shakespeare & Co. |