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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 |
| Unhappy endings Two months to relax, dreaming of bitches and beaches, and each tomorrow — you in your bikini — drowning my sorrow. But... there was thick smoke choking the valley's lungs, a slab of bacon burning, tar coating your tongue. I... I tried to breathe under the blast of a/c, sitting by the window, the air-purifier blowing at me. Time seems so precious when green turns to rust when endings loom nigh, you coughing up blood — and dust. I look forward to Tuesday, repacking my books, my paper, my pens, headed back to high-school, relearning how to breathe again. © Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.219] (29.agosto.2021) 24 lines Taboo-boo-boo words SUMMER BREAK: summer holiday vacation family travel or any derivatives of these words For August 2021
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I never did write her/him a poem for July's "Writing 4 Kids Contest "  [ASR] by Cubby  the Children's Contest, but I'm using it here because it inspired me: Ancestralhome บ้านบรรพบุรุษ therewereflowers lotsofflowers มีดอกไม้ ดอกไม้มากมาย andhay sweethay และหญ้าแห้ง หญ้าหวาน wewanderedthroughthemeadowsbymoonlight vanishedamongtheflowersbyday เราเดินผ่านทุ่งหญ้าด้วยแสงจันทร์ หายไปท่ามกลางดอกไม้ในตอนกลางวัน therewereflowers มีดอกไม้ somanysweetflowers ดอกไม้หวานมากมาย youpickedabouquetofgoldensunshine woveawreath placeditonmyheadlikeacrown คุณเลือกช่อแสงแดดสีทอง สานพวงหรีด วางไว้บนศีรษะของฉันเหมือนมงกุฎ iwashappy ฉันมีความสุข but weallgrowup andnowyousayyoucannotseeme แต่ เราทุกคนต่างก็เติบโตขึ้น ตอนนี้คุณบอกว่าคุณไม่เห็นฉัน donotfrown อย่าทำหน้าบึ้ง inyourdreamsyouwillknowmefromafar ในฝันของคุณคุณจะรู้ฉันจากฟาร์ iwanderamongthefallenpetals ฉันเดินเตร่ท่ามกลางกลีบดอกไม้ที่ร่วงหล่น inthemeadowofgoldenstars ในทุ่งหญ้าพันดาว © Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.218] (28.สิงหาคม.2021) The translation is rough. Thai is written with spaces between sentences not words. Posted for PPC#12 in "Promptly Poetry Challenge (2023-2024)" |
| It's 10:55 in Louisiana. Hurricane Ida is about to make landfall. This morning's winds topped out at 150. Grand Isle's wx station lost connection at 136 mph. So, yeah. I'm motivated to write about disasters. They eliminate the numbness. Fury unleashed and unapologetic. So I won't apologize for my musings. Ode to Ida El Caribe is a big tub in which to swim. The sun, the sand, the rain, the wind. Tiny islands poke defiant fingers to the sky, as if to pierce her clouds. There's still a long journey across warm waters ahead. As August leaves to become September a couple cuddles in Louisiana. Jamaicans want to play. They prayed for rain so now she showers their mountains, scrubs their cities, shampoos their beaches. Better than Ivory soap, she floats above them. The Caymans were thirsty. They no longer thirst. As I put on the pot I must remember a baby suckles in Louisiana. Cuba stands in the way. He always does. Defiant as Castro and as prepared. There's no need to linger where there are no souls ripe for harvest. They're hunkered down. One peak rises above her clouds. She bats it down. As the water boils I must remember an old man huddles in Louisiana. The Gulf stretches, flat as a speedway, no bumps in sight. Smooth sailing to whatever port she chooses to visit. She ignores the no vacancy signs. But she expected a warm welcome; her temper flares. As I overfill my cup I must remember someone's crying in Louisiana. Now shores act as if they don't want a cleansing, try to put up a shield to turn her fury aside, to send her east or west or — they fail like they always do. Mud doesn't care how it's stirred nor where it settles. As I drink my coffee I must remember someone's dying in Louisiana. © Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.217] (29.août.2021) ~320 words Posted in "Blogville " 105.618 |
| End of a South Carolina Winter for Kevin One grain of approval was all it took, one heart-filled crumb. One shovel to remove the sand from eyes until there was just one mote, then none, that blind spot that darkened my universe, gently removed, as I shook in disbelief, leaving me speechless, dumb. © Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.216] (27.agosto.2021) posted in "EXPRESS IT IN EIGHT" earlier version One grain of approval was all it took, one heart-filled crumb. One shovel to remove the sand from eyes until there was just one mote, then none, that blind spot small enough to hold my universe as I shook in disbelief, now gently removed, leaving me speechless, dumb. |
Moulin à yeux Beneath ice castles of eternal winter, silence broken by the drip drip drip of a majestic cataract frozen in time. My eyes cannot see through the milky mist. Yet, tomorrow will be colder than cold, the future blind. © Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.214] (26.août.2021) posted in "EXPRESS IT IN EIGHT" |
| Autumn in August The rain came in and washed the smoke brought clouds and cooling breezes. The heat's now gone, the dust now gone and with it daily sneezes. The end of river rafting looms summer's bluebirds southward bound I'd lament for solar heat and burns but I'm not an English hound. © Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.213] (22.august.2021) 8 lines xaxa xbxb Something about dogs and Englishmen basking in the noonday sun? Summer appears to be over here. Posted in "EXPRESS IT IN EIGHT" |
| It's been a decent couple of days. Got some things accomplished. Feel I'm making progress in coming out of my shell. Having second thoughts about the computer I bought though. So why a lament? I can't remember passwords. Can't find where I wrote a couple down. Sounds silly until I remember what year it is. It's not pre-password 1990. I got my first computer in 1994. It's a bit daunting to grow old as the world changes around me. The pace of change makes it difficult as well. I'm a tad overwhelmed. And that depresses me. Maybe I long for the simpler life when I would call a friend or drop in to play cards ... face to face without a screen between us. At least I saw people at market today and chatted at the cafe. In person is so much easier and less stressful. There is a solution. I could just walk away from anything that annoys me. Live out my life oblivious to the whirl of change rotating around me. After-all, I have no obligation to keep up. Lamentations on the way to tomorrow Lately, hours that once lingered pass by quickly as if my life were merely a train schedule, as if arriving late were not allowed. © Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.212] (21.agosto.2021) 8 lines. Poem posted in "EXPRESS IT IN EIGHT" ~220 words Posted in "Blogville " 105.610 |
| Waiting for the #2 Bindweed blooms at the busstop, shy pink bell-blossoms twining among green twigs. They climb over sleepy bushes to greet us, we who wait for a ride having climbed the curb and planted our flag. © Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.211] (20.agosto.2021) posted in "EXPRESS IT IN EIGHT" |
| Ex Note this naked swirl twirling around an empty center, a band of clouds without a chance of rain, the definition of nothing fading to become a ghost that not even radar can be bothered with. I detect your disdain your quick dismissal but once I was a force of nature, once trees bowed before my winds. Now in my nakedness they mock me, offering their shame-covering leaves to others. © Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.210] (18.agosto.2021) |
| Fogged in I'm up there in the tree, caught between two twigs, lost among your thoughts. Forget the leaves. They need not hide what you can't see. See me. © Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.209] (17.agosto.2021) For "EXPRESS IT IN EIGHT" |
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