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! 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 |
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 s*** 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:
And: WDC 48 hour media challenge based on AJR's "Way less sad". |
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) For
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