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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/item_id/982524-Laura-del-Campo
Rated: 18+ · Book · Personal · #982524
Online journal capturing the moment and the memory of moments. A meadow meditation.
*Smile*          *Smirk*          *Wink*

L'aura del campo


'é a lua, é a lua, na quintana dos mortos'
♣ Federico García Lorca ♣


Higgins Street Bridge, April 25th  2009, Missoula, Montana


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*Flower2*V*Flower2* COMMENTS!

On a practical note, in answer to your questions:

Gifts from NOVAcatmando kiyasama alfred booth, wanbli ska ransomme Iowegian Skye

Merit Badge in Reviewing
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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! Merit Badge in Nano Winner
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CONGRATULATIONS on your achievement! *^*Bigsmile*^* Merit Badge in Reviewing
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For help finding a title for my first chapbook.  We're not there yet, but your ideas are always interesting.
Merit Badge in Funny
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Merit Badge in Friendship
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Thanks for being my friend.

Hugz! 

grannym Merit Badge in Appreciation
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For brightening my day with your delightful offerings ~ Thank you so much! *^*Heart*^*


IN MEMORIUM

VerySara

passed away November 12, 2005

Please visit her port to read her poems and her writings.
More suggested links:

Knees of the trees, a fountain, a rainbow, Muscogee, OK in 2004.
These pictures rotate.
 Kåre *Leaf5* Enga
~ until everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow! And I let the fish go.
~ Elizabeth Bishop,
The Fish
Previous ... -1- 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 ... Next
April 11, 2021 at 5:51pm
April 11, 2021 at 5:51pm
#1008347
We saw Chauvin murder Floyd.
Saw it with our own two eyes.
what are we now supposed to deny.

We saw the speeches spewing hate,
saw the hatred ignite the flames
saw the tiki-torches marching.

We watched the silent films
of goose-stepping beardless youth
and wondered how and why.

We read how Hebrews called upon the Heavens
to slaughter their appointed enemies
and we applauded.

We don't look in mirrors,
fearful of what monster resides within,
wearing the mask of our face.

[40]
April 11, 2021 at 5:16pm
April 11, 2021 at 5:16pm
#1008345
So much remains taboo in the post-British-colonial world. The Puritans and Victorians ... left a legacy of joyless rules.

Do I write a poem about sex? Do I write one without limpid rhymes? Is ghastly good enough?

We mixed black and brown and white,
added red and yellow,
painted with our multi-colored palette
to piss over your inhumanity,
your insistence that you were better.

We mangled Shakespeare's plays,
strangled Lord What's-his-face's poems,
as we dared to question
your ignoble history of death,
replaced it with our vibrant colors.

You were never better than we were:
your polluted water made us ill,
your piss perfume hid your fetid odor,
your glee angered us as you killed
anyone who stood in your way.

You stole our language
left us with this bastard tongue
of commerce, pride and treachery.
We want our love back,
our lullabys of bounteous lands and seas.
We beg you go back to where you belong.

You stole our culture,
peace and harmony
and left us fish and chips.

[39]

24 lines ... so far.
April 10, 2021 at 10:16pm
April 10, 2021 at 10:16pm
#1008206
Madonna in my mind

'Cause we are living in a sci-fy world
and I am a sci-fy fan.
Yes, we are living in a dreamlike world
and now you know what I am.


Some bots flatter, some bots not,
but that's okay in the end.
If they don't answer me correctly
I just type "vanish" and send.

I want my clothes and fancy toys,
my dinner delivered on time.
I have no interest in what you offer.
I can watch hot sex on-line.

'Cause we are living in a sci-fy world
and I am a sci-fy fan.
Yes, we are living in a dreamlike world
and now you know what I am.


You're not Kirk and he's not Spock
and neither of you can sing.
But whisper Klingon in my ear,
I'm open to having a fling.

Once I was an avatar
but now I'm just a dream
planted deep inside your brain.
Nothing's what it seems.

'Cause we are living in a sci-fy world
and I am a sci-fy fan.
Yes, we are living in a dreamlike world
and now you know what I am.


© Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.38] (10.april.2021)




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April poem-a-day poetry spot!
#1370829 by Katya the Poet
April 10, 2021 at 9:13pm
April 10, 2021 at 9:13pm
#1008199
A sympathetic roomba

you google sights and sounds
megabytes of artificiality
simulacra of reality
no taste no smell

you sit inside your cubicle
your safely boxed existence
wonder what it's like outside
afraid to step outside your door

your oven cleans itself
room temperatures stay even
automatic billing keeps used coins
from dirtying your fingers

you long to hear a voice
Alexa keeps you company
for hugs a sympathetic roomba
will come and nudge your feet

© Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.37] (10.april.2021)

For
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#1370829 by Katya the Poet
April 10, 2021 at 5:05pm
April 10, 2021 at 5:05pm
#1008188
Napping my world

from the bed to the chair to the bed
to the other chair looking south
to the chair by the window facing north
to the bed to the chair to the bed

as mist blankets snow-covered mountains
as my blanket covers my head
as the world spins without my presence
as I nap in my chair then my bed

© Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.36] (10.april.2021)


For:
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EXPRESS IT IN EIGHT  (18+)
This is a poetry sharing activity for expression and entertainment!
#2232169 by Solace.Bring

105.147
April 8, 2021 at 8:41pm
April 8, 2021 at 8:41pm
#1008063
Gifts of the graves

Abandoned by Spaniards greedy for gold,
jade lay among metates
until the land was sold

to a poor farmer who planted white corn
to grind on stone metates
in the cool of the morn

who, before his wife reduced corn to cornmeal
placed a jade charm 'round her neck as she kneeled.

© Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.35]

for:
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EXPRESS IT IN EIGHT  (18+)
This is a poetry sharing activity for expression and entertainment!
#2232169 by Solace.Bring
April 8, 2021 at 7:23pm
April 8, 2021 at 7:23pm
#1008056
My name is Kåre

You can't spell my name
You can't even pronounce it.
Even after I explain
You say Kari or Kara —

Damn it.

Because names do not matter.
Because I do not matter.

I've visited Gdańsk,*
had a dorm-mate Cudziło.**
No, I didn't complain
I learned how to say them.

I owed'm.

Because their names mattered to them.
Because they mattered to me.

© Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.34] (8.april.2021)

* gdañsk [practice it]
** sujeewa

I deal with my own misspellings, wrong word, misunderstandings daily. But you ask and my mind goes blank.

But then ... you've hit a sore spot.

My name is Kåre. And no, I'm not being 'cute'. It's pronounced a bit like Cory. Can you say C O R Y? Can you repeat that after me?

But no ... many can't. Can't be bothered to look it up. Immediately assume that I can't spell my own name and write back to me: Kara, Kari, Kare [which I do understand as [å] isn't on everyone's keyboard but my tablet has it and copy/paste takes extra effort] ... thinking maybe it's Karen without the 'n'. I am also guilty of typos it seems.

My name is Kåre. It's Scandinavian and been around for awhile. It was most popular in Norway in the 1920s.

If you google the name like I just did it comes up:

Kåre Dæhlen (Norwegian b 1926 d 2020) ambassador
Kåre Hedebrant (Swede b 1995) child actor
Kåre Schultz (Dane b 1962) business exec
Kåre And the Cave Man (Norwegian rock band 1990-2000)
An older spelling still used is Kaare like
Kaare Vedvik (American-Norwegian footballer b 1994)

and a whole slew of other famous folks named Kåre, mostly damn Norwegians. I'm Swede, by-the-way. I'm not on the list. Sorry.

But that doesn't mean that I don't exist.

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#1370829 by Katya the Poet
April 7, 2021 at 8:13pm
April 7, 2021 at 8:13pm
#1007984
When I ran away my problems hitched a ride with me. No... you can't leave them behind. Life doesn't work that way. But one s.o.b. hasn't found me yet; which is okay, because I'd be dead not sad. Yes, I'm sad. All the friends I made. All the memories stuffed into the back closet of my mind. They come out at night to haunt me.

But I should be glad. I had a very good year and then the shit hit the fan. When I finally got back on my feet I moved again. One doesn't leave one's problems behind, but one can get a respite to breathe.

So I breathe. Many years later I still run away but politely say, "I travel".

Don't be mad I'm way less sad

I'm running running I'm running running
I'm running running — I can't stay

running running running, I'm way less sad
running running running, running away

I'm running running I'm running running
I'm running running — don't be mad

running running running, running away
running running running, I'm way less sad

© Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.32]

For:
FORUM
EXPRESS IT IN EIGHT  (18+)
This is a poetry sharing activity for expression and entertainment!
#2232169 by Solace.Bring


And: WDC 48 hour media challenge based on AJR's "Way less sad".

April 7, 2021 at 2:04pm
April 7, 2021 at 2:04pm
#1007962
Kryptid

I write about you in invisible script
worn into rock over thousands of centuries.
I saw your kind born and will be there when they die.
This tale isn't finished.

You call me by a hundred names and a thousand others
long forgotten by relatives who you can't remember,
those myth-makers who handed down warnings
that I still existed.

I've outlived them all. And now you search
for my secret hiding place and for immortality.
They aren't for sharing, but I'll give you the same hints
that I gave long ago.

I'm everywhere around you. I hide where you never look.
Those who depend on eyes to see will never find me. I'm closer
than your life's vein. The script I etch upon your soul's indelible,
my words eternal Truth.

© Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.31] (7.april.2021)

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#1370829 by Katya the Poet
April 6, 2021 at 12:53pm
April 6, 2021 at 12:53pm
#1007886
April commandment

let him go

for someone else to find him
fulfill his needs
his

let him go

it doesn't matter anymore
you loved him love him
still


so, let him go

cut the strings to let him soar
or sink but know that

you don't own him

let him go

© Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.30] (6.april.2021)

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/item_id/982524-Laura-del-Campo