%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
 |    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 L  V 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 |
| As I tremble A child sits on the edge of a precipice, watches birds weave through blue sky, wonders what it's like to fly. She sits there prim and pink and calm, listening to the siren notes of bird calls as if the sky could catch her should she fall. I avert my eyes and walk away. She has no wings with which to fly. I will not wait to watch her die. K Enga (8.junio.2017) [174.126] /30:8.2/ prompt:  |
prompt:  In Mongolia My camel laughs. I laugh. I laugh. My camel laughs. Flat dry plains stretch past far horizons. Our laughter barely fits. © Kåre Enga (7.junio.2017) [174.125] /30:7.2/ |
| Umbilical forever Wires plugged into walls, earphones plugged into phones, we remain attached to the source, unwilling to be born. When did it start— if not in the womb— when someone forgot to cut the cord; we carry the placenta with us. Hard-wired, we do not wander far; our soft-ware's programmed to self-destruct if we dare unplug. We incubate until we're ready to procreate, eager to be reborn. © Kåre Enga (7.juin.2017) [174.124] /30:7.1/ prompt: |
| Of change I was handsome once: tall, bronzed and hard as rock. I stood out among my kind, those who served without sleep, without a blink of eye. In my time I saw seeds become trees, cities rise, flourish and fall. The winds of change did not concern me, no more than the flutter of blue wings that often passed me by. Through ages the sun warmed my skin but not the heart they never gave me. It was no loss that I was never loved. Then, I was called on less and less, and arms and legs stiffened until I stood abandoned, unable to to move or bend, not even to pick up my fallen head. Now acorns drop on what remains and a mighty oak wraps its roots around me. In its shelter I watch blue wings, beg them to share the news that the winds have brought them. K Enga (6.juni.2017) [174.123] /30:6.2/ Prompt:  81.151 |
| Winter melts between us We stand there in wonder, ready to see with fresh eyes, wrapped in the shroud of winter in this city of wet snow and cold air. We ask each other what this means, this trickle of melt. Can we cross if we jump. Where does it go. Can we go there. Someone snaps a picture before we decide, captures our thoughts in the look on our faces, the way we gaze down at each other's feet. There it lies, a dark river as wide as our short past and the long future before us, the thin line of the present we walk along, each staying on our own side. When we are older will we look back at this moment, frozen in black and white and realize that this was all that ever divided us, a grey trickle of snow melt in this global warming time. © Kåre Enga (5.juin.2017) [174.122] /30:5.2/  81.146 |
| Midnight in the alley, Any Alley, USA You act as if I were a joke, feint this way or that, trying to start something. But beware, my calico cat will claw you and my dog's so hungry and whining for a midnight snack. Out of my way! you'll say and I'll shout back, good riddance, as Precious barks and Fangs hisses. I warn you, my parrot Lou will remove a finger or two if you poke them at him. We travel this way; we protect each other. These streets are mean, mother-f***er. K enga (4.junio.2017) [174.118] |
| Ticked Grass tickles as your hand waves through it where ticks wait to climb aboard the passing food cart, free travel... meal included. And they might be right if you don't look quick and tell them with a flick, bugger off. K Enga (3.june.2017) [174.119] |
| Fleeing from the rain gang Smacked by a drop, I smack back. But its cousins have noticed, gathering around, a wet gang of mobsters, I swear, out-to-get-me. Skies darken with threats, wet pavement, wash cars. Drops try to enter the bakery where I've fled. They boom their frustration, next time! then take off like a mob, eager to soak someone else. © Kåre Enga (4.juni.2017) [174.121] |
| Ex-bananas Spell bound, Alexa carries a tomato box filled with bananas. She groans, "almost there", when a naughty baboon decides a banana would taste 'just fine' and tries to grab one. She thinks quickly and decides 'she won't win this one'. Too strong, too persistent, like a former lover who made her fall in love with the letter X. She tears off a couple and throws them, hoping... but the banana beggar wants the whole bunch. I'm dreaming she thinks, touches the mark on her forehead to summon her powers, closes eyes to candles, inhales the fragrance of clove, let's smoke carry her spell, banishing the baboon to another realm in another timeline. Then a tug brings her back to the present. She screams... because what else are anti-heroines supposed to do? She lets the bloody bold beggar have the bananas, opens the door and drives off in her car, glad she has escaped once more. X's haunt long after packed boxes are emptied of ripe bananas K Enga (4.juin.2017) [174.120] /30:4.1&2/ For "Invalid Item"  I used both prompts in one piece to make what I have called a 'gzaibun': 6/4 witchcraft  6/4 grocery monkey  |
| Curse of the empty sockets Wrap me tight in a thin white shroud to match the blight of my bones. Sew my lips, or I'll shout out loud! And bury my words in tomes. Pluck these eyes so they can not see; conceal my faults in the dark. Bind my hands so they won't be free to blaze your world with a spark. Let me rest and forget my name, unless you beg for a curse. Once you say it, you'll be to blame and return in back of a hearse. K Enga (3.juni.2017) [174.117] For 30 day challenge "Invalid Item" Day 3 prompt 2. (2123802) 81,136 |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
![Merit Badge in Reviewing
[Click For More Info]
For your support and suggestions on my haiku "Lone Poinsettia" which took second place in the contest and will be published. Thanks for helping make it a winning poem!](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/general-Reviewing-2180.gif)
![Merit Badge in Nano Winner
[Click For More Info]
CONGRATULATIONS on your achievement! *^*Bigsmile*^*](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/general-Nano_Winner-2180.gif)
![Merit Badge in Funny
[Click For More Info]](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/general-Funny-200.gif)
![Merit Badge in Friendship
[Click For More Info]
Thanks for being my friend.
Hugz!
grannym](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/general-Friendship-650.gif)
![Merit Badge in Appreciation
[Click For More Info]
For brightening my day with your delightful offerings ~ Thank you so much! *^*Heart*^*](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/general-Appreciation-1985.gif)
). That said, use what the Muse gifts.
