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 |
I responded to runningwolf04 but cut and post here instead. I believe your poll
refers to prose. Poets want something else. 1. Did you like it? 2. Can you offer any advice to strengthen it poetically. DO NOT: 3. Correct my grammar/spelling when I'm speaking in dialect. 4. Treat it as if it's a college or grade school essay or report. ADVICE: 5. If you have never written poetry or are tone-deaf and refuse to read it out-loud, do me a favor... don't review it. Send a comment instead. Comments are welcome. 6. If your only experience is English-only-speaking MidAmerica and my writing isn't... and that offends you or confuses you, don't review. But please leave a comment so I know. I appreciate comments/reviews by tight-form experts (oriental, short forms) like Tinker or free-flowing (beatnik) verse experts like Brian K Compton. There are others who are experts in their chosen field. My poetic offerings lose to them all the time. But... if you're a novel-writer don't bother lecturing me on haiku... because I know you don't have a clue. K (as in Cory) |
Clematis, Queen of the Trellis She climbs from year to year, a bud here, a bloom there. It's enough to let her flower, bidding bees enter her bower. But don't be fooled; she's no one's tool. Strangling, frightening, her tendrils tightening. © Copyright 2022 Kåre Enga [179.13] (2.april.2022) For
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Napping is for Napoli... when I get there So little time left to hail hello, to bid good-bye, why waste it here in bed, dazzled from dreams snared by nightmares. They insistently whisper lies. Better to get up, go out, do whatever must be done. It's in the doing, not the don't-ing that keeps a life well-spun. © Copyright 2022 Kåre Enga [179.12] (2.april.2022) 12 lines free verse. For
Prompt: sleep or insomnia |
New beginnings I will ease into this new beginning, my mother gone, my brain soon to follow. The roads lead ever on. Only the dead are left behind. And even them... they haunt fresh memories. I'll search cold skies to find which paths now open. So closed for so long, it will not matter. First flight out, come find me in my seat. I'm going somewhere. © Copyright 2022 Kåre Enga [179.11] (31.mars.2022) 15 lines free verse. For
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Honeybuns There once was a lady named Bunny who lived with her bestest friend Honey; they made cookies and baked fudgy chocolate cheesecake; together each new day dawned sunny. © Copyright 2022 Kåre Enga [178.375c] (1.mars.2022) For:
First verse of "A Big Flashy Fun Rainbow Ball " |
There once was a lady named Bunny who lived with her bestest friend Honey; they made cookies to take with chocolate cheesecake; together each new day dawned sunny. © Copyright 2022 Kåre Enga [178.375c] (1.mars.2022) When Harry met Larry he knew that soon they would have a big crew with Barbie and Bob, Rebecca and Rob, two puppies, five kitties and you! © Copyright 2022 Kåre Enga [179.10a] (31.mars.2022) They all planned a picnic come Fall a big flashy fun rainbow Ball with pastries galore and popcorn and smores. But bunnies and crows ate it all! © Copyright 2022 Kåre Enga [179.10b] (31.mars.2022) |
Ah... David There once was a lady named Alice who lived in a white marble palace with fine art to impress like young David's broad chest; she lamented over his phallus. © Copyright 2022 Kåre Enga [178.375a] (1.mars.2022) And it's companion poem: There once was a valet named Dallas who worked in a white marble palace with fine art to impress like young David's broad chest; he sobbed over David's wee phallus © Copyright 2022 Kåre Enga [178.375b] (1.mars.2022) Size matters? For March 2022
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Cold, but bright, clarity in cobalt light streaming through stained glass. Jump out of bed! Alas... It's Wednesday morning, time for coffee, breakfast, yay! shopping day. © Copyright 2022 Kåre Enga [179.7] (30.mars.2022) Note: 1/2/3/4/5 — 5/4/3/2/1 Perhaps a title in the middle? Anyhoo... I've finished my coffee. |
Emerald treasure Crimson blushes in pink or white florets, plucked for their vernal fragrance as children search through fresh mown grass for four fingers attached to a petiole. How hard to stoop these days, and not fall over, smacked by wet cold ground. Oh, to be able to get up in a single bound, knees stained with wealth and happiness, as nimble fingers twirl in admiration at Fate grasped with one hand. © Copyright 2022 Kåre Enga [179.6] (29.march.2022) 12 lines For
CLOVER taboo words: luck, fortune, promise, green, leaf or any derivatives of these words. |
Fragments at cloudy dawn the lion still sleeps one eye open [179.2a] Behind grey clouds the hidden sun works on spring [179.2b] Do not ask permission to do the right thing for yourself For others — always ask first [179.2c] On the tongue a taste of cinnamon no sight, no sound [179.2d] |