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 |   Enga mellom fjella: where from across the meadow, poems sing from mountains and molehills. |
This is a response to Shannon's request "Bonus" for "Follow the Leader"  by mood indigo  For "BONUS": My knees are knocked. Perhaps that's why I never liked riding a horse? My shins are short. I was never tall. I have seldom felt at ease in my own skin (as if another's would fit?). Don't ask about zits or chewed nails or ... Well, just let it be! I literally hated looking into a mirror for years. Sure, I 'looked' into them when I had to. I just never paused and gazed and made friends with the goof looking back. I have a passport picture of when I was 22. Oh, to look like I did back then! So, why did I not accept that I was of medium height and looks. And not exactly scary to other folks (and according to some ...  ).Why not now accept the wrinkles that look back at me? A good reason? There never was or will be. K.E. As Shannon wrote: "Be insensitive. Be un-PC. Tell me something you really hate, but without good reason." But if I wrote "Bone us" (about Iraq, King George, the economy, a friend who visited yesterday ...) it would assuredly exceed even the GC rating of my other blog , so:Bones The mirror cracked the face screamed back: What did I do to you! The zits just spit at crossed-eyed pits. The brows rose up. No clue. The gums now glared as wires gleamed bared; cold froth lay on his cheeks. As he remembered that blush of youth, he wished old bones could speak. © Kåre Enga 2008 [165.5] 2008-03-21 Bones R Us It's in the structure behind the flesh, the blush of youth, the cage of age our deformation from birth to death. These bones are us. Straightened, bent, old or fresh, from royal sequences of DNA, paired with muscles, nerves and flesh, they fill one's own full house at best. Yes, these bones are us. We run with them. We sit on them. We even make love, you see. And soon enough more bones are born. Fresh as flesh can be. © Kåre Enga 2008 [165.6] 2008-03-21 Us Bones Yes we speak! With every ache and every creak, we tell you the same-old-thing: go seize this day! Before we break or fail to speak and that box holds tight your clay. © Kåre Enga 2008 [165.7] 2008-03-21 This is my 11th response for FTL. ** Image ID #1382532 Unavailable ** My previous entries: 1. "Crying children" Circle round in adoration2. "Gone, fishing" Old tin bucket3. "How I behave around different people" In five part disharmony; also in "Friendship and family" 4. "Level 28 Blood Elf Hunter" Letter from Kwn5. "Hobo stew" Sopa6. "She wants to know if I'm lost" Anemones7. "Thirteen ways of looking at a blank page" Counting back from 138. "Sarcasm dripping from most of its wonderful crevices" Me AttitudeX. "And they paved paradise" ... me very own lead entry ...  9. "This time last year" March any year10 "Well whaddya know?" Well whaddya know?So go read about ME in my previous entry. It's all about me Me ME!. 3297 |
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