Enga mellom fjella

Summer sonnet '66

Weather you be:

At Wunderground.com, a post by usa777:

well 2 days from now is the 4 year anniversary of Katrina. Although I do find these storms fascinating, I would NEVER wishcast

wishful-forecast

even a tropical storm on someone. I lived through Katrina in Bay St Louis Miss. and would love to hear from anyone else from the blog about thier experience. In my wildest dream I would of never thought a storm could turn so many people's lives around. Everytime I see an invest

investigating potential storm

pop up it brings me back to that day. One of these days I would love to write about the things I witnessed for those few days. One of the wierdest memories of that day was a cat I saw clinging to a tree and you could just see how scared it was. Very surreal. I personally cant wait until hurricane season winds down. Hope everyone stays safe from Danny.

Danny is still disorganized, winds 50, 60 maybe, but it isn't far from the Eastern seaboard. The danger is that folks could dismiss it. Worse scenario (not likely, but still possible) is going up the coast and hitting Hatteras and Long Island/Cape Cod. Even if it stays out to sea, Nova Scotia is likely to get hit once it gets moving.

My old poem: "I, Katrina" 

                Summer sonnet '66
         
01           I wanted to know you Johnny, before
02           you became a lawyer, married, abused
03           your first born daughter, spent a year in prison,
04           got out, had seven more, still young, able
05           to get on with life, obviously able
06           to get it on with your wife; I wanted

07           you first, wanted to explore your needs, while
08           picking blueberries, canoeing the slough,
09           sailing a Sunfish; ah .... just me... and you
10           were young and I was but a summer guest:
11           shy, withdrawn, afraid of water, never
12           having courage enough to ask for more.

13           For you were a golden sailor, Johnny;
14           I was merely a stranded wish on shore.

               © Kåre Enga [166.190] 2009-08-26

Maybe I can get this out of my mind now. I know someone here in Montana who brought back memories of the '60s when we both stayed in the same cabin (different weeks or years... doubt we met). We knew the same people. Johnny is a real person. I knew him when he was young, before the troubles. So... some of this is fact, some fiction. He did have lots of kids... after going to prison and I do remember him as being slim and sunny... . The slough, the Sunfish (which I mostly associate with his sister) and the wonderful blueberries in August were real enough. I was too young, withdrawn, naïve.

The poem is "sonnet-like". 14 lines of ~10; there are three parts (breaking on line 6 and 12 instead of line 8 and 12) including a final couplet; there is internal rhyme (but to have end rhymes would contort the syntax and weaken the poem). It may need to be formatted differently as sonnet form does not suit it unless you like enjambment. Even mentioning "sonnet" brings out the nitpickers around here (the same folks who think haikus have 17 syllables because they were taught that in school... ...they technically don't (unless you are a follower of Yasuda). See: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Haiku )

Zeugma. Know the word? End of line 9 is an example.

ME?

Oh... the students are b.a.c.k. Crowded at The Break...

I ate california-roll, sake-maki, rock-and-roll, goma shiro and fish roe. I dipped the rolls in the bright orange fish-beads.

Why do I mention strange food? I was raised with cheap meat, canned vegetables and potato/rice. Basically meat-and-taters. Bland, almost English. My mother was not an adventurous cook. But I am! Even as a teenager I baked a lemon-ginger pear pie because my mother made apple pie (something she did excel in).

So meat? Why not goat, elk or antelope? I've had squirrel. Meat is meat to me. Bottomline: some animal gave up it's life so I could eat.
Vegetables? Why not salsify or rutabagas? Chayote, yuca, and plátanos in an olla de carne.
Rice... love basmati, but any will do. Potatoes also come in blue... if you didn't already know.

Life is boring only if you are bored and not willing to learn each and every day. For me, food provides an opportunity. If I had only bread and water: nature, the landscape and the 6 senses would have to suffice.

Writing

Wondering whether anyone pondered what the article was about that prompted last entry's poem "The leaves had fallen; where was spring"...

It was written by Judy Smith (of Seattle) about her cancer diagnosis, while a long lost lover is dealing with leukemia, and another has brain cancer.

I looked out the window and knew how the trees felt that had lost their leaves. This is what it was like to be old. But I had one thing to look forward to: spring.

She survived; they did not.

Montana: 66° at 11 a.m. in Missoula.

17,312