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 |   Enga mellom fjella: where from across the meadow, poems sing from mountains and molehills. |
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Enga mellom Fjella  Sentinel Marked as if you own me I bow before the Bitterroots and just like you my rocky soil, my withered grass lays prey to the empty sky. © Kåre Enga 2007 "Sentinel"   Reader's Choice of Poems: "Zmitri" "Where grows the compost heap" "In search of Iris" "La Bella Vita" "Willowsong" Reader's Choice of blog entries from my old blog "L'aura del Campo" :"Death of Jeannie New Moon" "Winter: 18 Mas'il (December 29)" "Even in chaos ... More hockey poems." "Holy day. Autumn in November. A mole." "Il pleure (poem). We R puddle-luscious, aujourd'hui." FACES     PLACES            Kåre  Enga~ until everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow! And I let the fish go. ~ Elizabeth Bishop The Fish |
4th entry for:
3. That's always an interesting concept when you try to mind your own f***ing business then you end up on face book or twitter. plainsue  Ooooooooooooooooooooooooo. I better not go there!  Yep. It's hilarious trying to explain 'white privilege' to white folk who have the screaming 'what-about-me's. Yeah, I get that you weren't born with a golden spoon up your crack so why-the-h-e-double-hockey-pucks did you vote for someone who was? Did you really expect compassion from someone who mocks disabled people?  Yes, I do understand that life has been tough. Want to live two years in a homeless shelter? Or would you rather get bashed in the head at least three times (that I remember). I'm sure my pain is no greater than thous.Ah ... but this isn't facebook and the people here are intelligent angels  . Sorry ...  I can only hold it in for so long. Howevuh ... most writers are communicators and thinkers  and warm heart-filled people  . Not.So, yeah. I could explain: 1. why climate and weather are not the same. Affirm that climate is changing. 2. that sex and gender are not the same thing. That neither is binary. 3. that privilege due to wealth is real. 4. that that's not what 'white privilege' is all about. It's what doesn't happen... 5. that trauma resides in the body. It's not what happened it's how the body stored it. 6. that not everybody is Christian and that morals, and values differ. 7. that virtues seem to be universal, but not always equally valued nor expressed the same way. 8. that Queen Scarlet ruled that a List of Five is sufficient. 9. that I wish she Scarlett  were reading this.10. that the best part of fish and chips is the mushy peas. And so on and so forth. BUT WOULD ANYONE LISTEN? Still, many writers (here or there) ARE truly nice people, even if most bloggers do not care to create community. But nothing NOTHING compares to the insanity on spacebook. It's shit-flinging time all the time, at any hour on any day. Few want an intelligent conversation. Fewer are intelligent or eloquent or ... Cipherville. That's what spacebook is. A bunch of aliens sowing conspiracy theories or flinging racist comments and fake news and then  "what's your problem" ... when I try to be rational (a stretch I admit) and calmly (a real ssttrreettcchh) explain reality. Or at least share my experience of travel (43 countries) having lived in 3 countries and 5 states, 17 years in an inner-city African-American neighborhood, 40 years of dealing with issues of unity ... I even have a B.A. ... but what the hell do I know!  They have an opinion based on having read ONE book and having lived all their lives in the same town or region surrounded by family and grade-school friends. Gosh-darn, maybe I should never have left home. Only the stupid ones leave, right? So there's my rant. Spacebook is quicksand ... and a slow angry death. So... I'm not always right but at least I don't do twitter. |
3rd entry for:
11. You'll find love when you prepare the ritual correctly. Chibithulu (Alyssa) 12. You'll find love when you give up and shoot cupid. Spring in my Sox  $n&& N gn^! &u*s asg+be N !bp# !sm! ... rmkas ... N mr ^p> !sm! ks>. #sbhm#) >hs m^)$sb n) 42. I bet Davy Kraken  can decipher the above ... If only I could. I'm great at making connections. Have even played Cupid! But close intimate relationships have alluded me. It's a puzzle with missing pieces. I seem to be romantically attracted to rocks and glaciers and those wise enough to know trouble and how to avoid it. I'm passionate and that's too much for some folks... plus annoying, quirky, scattered, depressed, anxious, worried, gloomy... not exactly everyone's favorite slice of pie! We won't talk about sex other to say that it frightened and confused me when I was younger and that's not healthy. Growing up in a box didn't help either. I needed to find someone to squeeze the shit out of me like toothpaste from a tube. Perhaps that's too icky an analogy. It's taken decades of never giving up for me to admit defeat. After-all, I'm a Hufflepuff. I ought to be able to devise something better than a coercive love potion! I mean Scamander was able to calm dragons ... and Hiccup was able to train them. Are humans that impossible? That answer is clearly yes. At least for me. Like a Hufflepuff I'm loyal. If I fall in love I don't fall out of love. I just pine away. I keep people close to my heart. I've tried as I've matured, then gotten older, now decrepit, to at least let them know. But love is tricky. If the potion is polluted in the least it dissolves into lust or longing or ... just doesn't work. Pure Love is best, but I'm too human for that. I'm about ready to shoot Cupid. But Hiccup didn't have to: |
2nd entry for
Prompt #6. Today you are annoying, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is more likely to get sucker punched in the face by me than you. Lenox Did I fail to mention that I don't like pank?  Too bad.I'm annoying. One can argue whether my personality is ENFP or INFP, whether I'm Ron Weasley or Luna Lovegood, or whether I belong in Gryffindor or Ravenclaw (I'm a Hufflepuff). Some people find me inspiring! intelligent! friendly! engaging! Let me tell you like it is ... I'm annoying. I'm geeky like Luna. I really don't fit in. I know a little about a lot of things. I see connections but can't always adequately demonstrate them to others. I've been known to lose myself in dreams. I can be as quiet as a rainbow no one else can taste. I'm scattered like Ron. Somedays ... most days ... I'm easily distracted. And I'm passionate, oft times speaking before I think. Oh, when I travel? I've been known to barge in. But I'm not always certain that I should and sometimes I slink away. Believe me, this is NOT charming. Few people point it out because they are truly nice people who would rather not offend. But at times when I'm chatty I can read what's unspoken: GO AWAY! STFU! I don't know that I've been sucker-punched, but I've been bashed. At least three times that come to mind. I do try to tone myself down. It just doesn't always work out that way. And I'm not about to change. |
First entry for June's
Journalistic Intentions #7: The only reason I would take up jogging is so that I could fit back into my Wonder Woman costume. Whiskerfaceschoolsout!  I'm Wonder Woman! Yeah, me and Donald both. Back in the day he wore it better. For some reasons the sequins drew attention and ... he was ALL about grabbing the most attention! At least I knew when to exit. Donnie John would get up on stage and forget when and how to get off. Fell flat on his face more than once. Never fazed him. Me? I tried to focus on what needed to be done. I figured it wasn't all about me me me ... like some folks. Also, the quicker I finished the easier on my crotch. Those costumes suck&bind and are never fitted properly. Ah ... but that was way-back-when, before Donnie went on to be a big star-in-his-own-mind. Heard he ended up with a couple trophy wives ... and now lives in a big white house. No word whether his three sons do drag like their father did though. Heard they don't have the guts. Just as well. Word is that Don-boy still likes his makeup and costumes.  I gave them up. Decided to get a life. Plus, after the disco days my body plumped. It's been a stuggle ever since. Ah ... but to wear that old costume and save the world! It still hangs in a closet mocking me. I never throw anything out. Maybe if I jogged? Yeah, right. Do I really look like I need a heart attack? I should begin by walking down those stairs, going out the door and just keep walking. If I go far enough I might even find ABBA and 1982, fit in those star-spangled jeans and dance like a Queen! I wonder whether Donald ever invites royalty over. I should call. Thanks to Elisa the Bunny Stik  and Robert Waltz  for encouraging me to write this ... well ... not this! but to write. 56.919 |
| First two (13+ rated) verses of a longer work. Bleeding Kansas When my doberman growls grrrr, all the frankincense and myrrh will not settle down the cur nor the loves that never were. [62a] She quotes, "You had your chances prowling that leafy campus!" As if! "Bejesus, Janice, I left my heart in Kansas." [62b] KE (may 2020) |
| Here you come again ... to burn my skin, cast terrifying shadows, blot out nuances, all shades of grey. I rue the day you return to make me start all over again. Like a river rinsing away the splotches of thoughts, or wind scattering them to where I can't follow. How can I gather them? Dry them out? or ... And here you come again with the promise that this time you'll be gentle, not seek to fry my brains, reduce me to dust, suck all wisdom out. But in the end it's always the same blank page. Clean! That's what YOU say, as I mourn my life's wrinkles, now denied hurts and pains, those 'insignificant' trinkets that evoke memories, what I can no longer remember. KE [177.69] (8 mai 2020) (23 lines) for
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| This is 4 linked tanagas followed by a verse that sums it up. Bleeding Kansas When my doberman growls grrrr, all the frankincense and myrrh will not settle down the cur nor the loves that never were. [62a] She quotes, "You had your chances prowling that leafy campus!" As if! "Bejesus, Janice, I left my heart in Kansas." [62b] Searching high and very low Alpha, Beta and Xi Rho. "Better yet, buy some dildos," cackled ravens to the crows. [62c] "Don't try to be so clever, satisfied with whomever's great for f***ing; however, become your lover? Never!" [62d] Hark, now-ancient Raven crowed, "you settled for whatever. All those loves that never were you left to bleed in Kansas." [62e] KE [177.62] (2.mai.2020) Notes: Deconstructing. I started with the phrases: "all the loves that never were", "I left my heart in Kansas" "searching high and very low" "settling for what can't be reached" "unhappy with whatever" and worked back from there. I then looked up rhymes or in the case of Kansas near rhymes. For "were": burr, cur, blur, fir, fleur, fur, grrrr, her, myrrh, Nur, per, purr, sir, slur, spur, stir, we're For "Kansas": angus, anxious, atlas, bandit, cactus, campus, candace, candice, canthus, canvas, canvass, chances, dances, frances, francis, janice, landis, mantis, pandas, planless, prances, spanish, stanzas, trances, transit, vanish, xanthous, advances, arkansan, atlantis, bananas, romances, strophanthus There were far too many for "low": beau, blow, bro, crow, doe, dough, flo, floe, flow, foe, fro, glo, glow, go, grow, ho, hoe, know, lo, mo, mow, no, o, o' oh, owe, pro, quo, rho, row, schmo, sew, show, sloe, slow, snow, so, sough, ginkgo, dildo ... and many more. Fewer for whatever: clever, ever, lever, never, sever, Trevor, endeavor, forever, however, whenever, wherever, whichever, whoever, whomever, whatsoever, whomsoever, whosoever Notes: "The Tanaga is a Filipino verse form that was originally composed in Tagolog, which to my ear is one of the more musical of languages. (Kumusta ka? Mabuti salam at) The form dates back to the 16th century and has an oral tradition. This old folk form had a resurgence of popularity in the 20th century, died down and resurfaced again mid 21st century. The poems are not titled. Originally it was a compact poem, contained in 4 lines, each is emotionally charged and asks a question that begs an answer." "The elements of the Tanaga are: 1. a tetrastich, a poem in 4 lines. However, modern poets have modified it to longer works in a stanzaic pattern of any number of quatrains. 2. syllabic, 7-7-7-7 syllables per line. 3. rhymed, originally monorhymed aaaa. Modern Tanagas also use aaaa bbbb etc., or aabb ccdd etc or abba cddc etc or any combination rhyme can be used. 4. asks a question seeking an answer 5. composed with the liberal use of metaphor 6. untitled. But in this poetic world we kind of have to title our poems for identity's sake. |
| ** Image ID #2220035 Unavailable ** Too bright! You gaze at me with a grimace. Bronzed, you aim your sunniness at my pale white skin. Yours has blisters that burst in flares, bold enough to torch me. I don't seek your scorch. I hide in shadows, wait till dark to bask in starlight. Your distant cousins respect the distance we keep between us. But You? Not you. You try to draw me in, bake me into oblivion, reduce my feelings to ash. KE [177.60] (1.mayo.2020) 13 lines for:
56,857 |
| April evenings When twilight falls like curtains hiding us from the day, when witches weave magic with willow branches, you'll find me waiting by the empty kitchen table, cup in one hand reading about romances, wondering whether you will come home before midnight, strange fragrance on wet lips, your demeanor tame. I'll smile, stir sugar and arsenic into your tea, add my spit, never asking the witch's name. KE [177.54] (27.abril.2020) Note: The elements of the Doha are: stanzaic, written in any number of couplets; syllabic, each line is made up of 24 syllables and is paused by caesura at the end of the 13th syllable, making the line two phrases of 13 and 11 syllables. The couplet can be arranged as a quatrain breaking the line at the caesura. rhymed, aa bb cc. Commonly used for proverbs and/or for longer narratives or didactic poetry |
| I have learned patience I have learned patience in life's garden, love: how each crop marches to its own rhythm for when it must be sown when ripened reaped; how bones feel pain and hands that once lusted for melting mud look forward to sunset's respite at the end of every day. No, there is no hurry, love, this warming soil will wait. I'll just rest here patiently until you find the beans. KE [177.42] (19.abril.2020) ** Image ID #2219311 Unavailable ** For:
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