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!
passed away November 12, 2005
Please visit her port to read her poems and her writings.
These pictures rotate.
~ until everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow! And I let the fish go.
~ Elizabeth Bishop,
You may only use the vowels A, E, & I.
You may not use the letters L or D.
Your poem must be at least six lines long.
Each line must have at least 3 words.
Your poem must make sense.
never regret, never repent
Pikes prick his fingers,
his wrist, his heart,
rest where thighs meet,
wetting satin britches
tinging what he screams
with aching anger:
never regret, never repent,
remember the pain.
Man the ramparts!
I ain't Saint Ram.1
We fight this satanic king.
© Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.276.J8] (9.noviembre.2021)
In response to "Sacrificial Lamb"