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 |    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 |
| The mist that parts; the ice that melts Winds blew from the south bringing warmth and clouds that couldn't hold onto joy any longer. The sky pimply sissed dark wet sheets. Thirsty plants struggling in cracks rejoiced. Homeless under the bridge huddled wherever they could to keep dry. Deep cracks that had exposed Inner Earth absorbed what they could, as all sides slowly edged closer, as if to touch — or heal. What couldn't be contained flooded the thoughts of anyone who bothered to listen. Most were deaf. Eons of disbelief had ill-prepared them for letting go of sorrow. For generations they had wrapped themselves in despair. It kept them cold and miserable and as far apart from as possible, like mist that never parts or ice that will not melt. Now warm showers threatened to wash it all away. What could they say? Deny the life-giving moisture? Curse the sun! Hurt had kept them alive. Each generation memorized the slightest slights to pass them on. They kept them close to shriveled hearts and repeated them like mantras. Do not trust. Do not believe your own eyes. Never touch. The rain poured down. Behind the clouds the sun smiled patiently. There would be time enough to shine after the cleansing to reward those who chose healing, as they basked in warmth and beauty. Mist parted. Ice melted. Hope resurged — regardless. © Kåre Enga [177.328] (30.januar.2021) For
FRESH START taboo words: new, change, start over, resolution, promise or any derivatives of these words. |
| there comes a softening... to stiff new jeans when worn through seasons of dust and snow — when patched again and again. ...and to old woollen pants that wick away the wet and keep one warm — even as one scratches. © Kåre Enga [177.327] (29.januar.2021) For:
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| Death sits with me Rejoice! Here to take me back, he is! Rejoice! Here to take me back, he says. Melancholy? Not his! © Kåre Enga [177.324] (25.januar.2021) 24 syllable blues: 9/9/6. Prompt: melancholy For
Listened to while writing: Or maybe: Rejoice! Here to take me back, he is! Rejoice! Here to take me back, he says. This sadness isn't his. [324b] Hidden notes: |
| There comes a reckoning... as attraction to Earth's mass* sags breasts and spreads the ass. Wrinkles try so hard to resist — but alas, give up the battle. ...and to sweet dreams that soared in childhood — now sinking to the floor — like paint that peels and falls. © Kåre Enga [177.323.ED] (22.januar.2021) *Weight is a function of gravity and mass. Note: it's not 100% to blame for the spread of my... For:
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| Arms raised to the skies Encase me in ice until the flow of anguish freezes long enough to make time stand still to savor the shimmer of moonlight, these icicles stroked by sunlight dripping, this fragility of life made manifest — and beautiful. Remember me like this arms raised to the skies, cold and pristine, crisp and clean, and sparkling. © Kåre Enga [177.321] (23.januar.2021) Free verse 16 lines For January 2021 "The Bard's Hall Contest"  |
| There comes a reckoning... when chocolate disappears to reappear around one's waist — as childhood dissipates — and fat clogs veins. And to the flesh when roads wend uphill — then level off — as age begins to sag. © Kåre Enga [177.320.ED] (23.januar.2021) For:
Prompts: Big and Small, Uphill, Chocolates I started a group of poems in this style circa 2015. "There comes a softening..." |
| Nine suffices for Neva Behold nine; how it hides no corners, and unlike six, doesn't sit in a box. Four seems deathly and eight... lucky for some... yet, why settle for luck? Ten is just — one too many, as if we must start again. No, as Neva might say, nine suffices. And yes, although there are seven directions, the trickiest one lies within. © Kåre Enga [177.318] (22.januar.21) 8 lines of free verse. When I started writing this I thought of Prosperous Snow celebrating  . Therefore ...  . I used to write poems for and about friends all the time. I should get back into the practice and do so again.
January 22 prompts: DIFFICULT, TEN, SETTLE |
| Bandruí She wears a plain shift in dappled sunlight a waif among the oak-grove orphans as drab as horse dung — they're all the same, yet in the breeze she shimmers and shines. Above the heights of the Cursèd City where slight daughters of royalty reign, their golden finery goes unnoticed for none is more elegant than she. © Kåre Enga [177.317] (21.januar.21) For:
Prompts: elegant, same, above. |
| Gods we do not know Dismissed, he left missives with the secretary. Now we read the papyri — wonder who he was. KE [177.316] (20.januar.2021) 24 syllables: 4 lines 2/10/7/5 For "Invalid Item" |
| On knees if necessary Winter's Insurrection failed. The Sun returns, stronger every day, to strengthen our resolve to crawl towards Spring — on knees if necessary. We inaugurate the return to health as hope beckons, as our shadows lengthen behind us. No need to look back. No need to wallow in the frozen waste we leave behind. We seek — warmer climes and future times where empathy lines rock-strewn paths to tranquil lakes where lips lap love's shore. No matter the horrors that clutch at us. The Sun guides our way and every day frost's grief, once left behind, loses its grip and fades. © Kåre Enga [177.314] (20.januar.2021) 18 lines free verse January Quote by Walt Whitman: "Keep your face always toward the sunshine - and shadows will fall behind you." For January, 2021:
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