L'aura del Campo

Writing prompts. Went to the doc.

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███████          L'aura del campo           ███████

AUTUMN: 19 Ilm (3 November)

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

WEATHER

Where I am 45º and clear.
In Seattle 58º and damp.

IMAGES

White grain elevator; white wisps of clouds; white dust; the trucks; the ash colored, tulip-like, dry pods of yucca open to the scatter of their seed.

WRITING AND READING

Prompts and thoughts:

black holes of the outter galactic suburb
meteors - the offspring of asteroids and comets
something electric happens there
velocity of light - universe's speed limit
what crosses the event horizon (does not come back)
gravity, what space is warped, what light distorted
whatever is falling is frozen in space
the chromosphere, the bright red crescent
celestial bodies hang out together

From Marzanna Kielar:

- with its own drop of time
- weightless as lichen crusts on stone
- leaves speak in dreams in the smoke of mist:
"Pick your steps cautiously. Skin of the earth, look, is all made of bodies we used to be."
- nothing separates us from the other side anymore (from Brzeg)
- dark splash of a crow in the floodplain of silence
- I will give you back only for awhile
- snow that protect earth from utter freezing
- a map used by death, precise and georgeous
- hoarfrost gardens on the panes

POETIC SKETCHES

Ice Age

In this cold crisp air
my pulmonary bellows leak and wheeze
I breathe in life and cough up phlegm
the hand's scape of my garden wilts from frost
begins the slow slough off of skin.
Life sinks into its roots.
Come winter's final blast
the deep snow blanket of your icy pith
will keep my core from freezing. [163.417]

MY LIFE

goes on. I have upset a friend and worried others. I know this is a time of change, but I don't know where to turn for succor. I do not wish to bite the hands that feed me but I'm snappy. There is more, always more, beneath my surface; it's more fundamental than I can express. Life goes on even though my lungs wheeze and my shaking doesn't stop. Does the flesh seek more revenge? For what? I do not know. I simply do not know.

Don Huggins made me and Diane Elder laugh last night when he joked, "I've already been buried in three states." He has lost fingers piece by piece due to staph infections.

I went to the doctor and got meds for bronchitis and possible pneumonia. I told Laurie she could yell at me.

BLOGVILLE

dizzyduck: 'we all know how hard it is to get that kind of stain out of genes'. welkerdeb's entries hurt, but in a good way. She visited an area where my family lives. She lives near my other sister and niece.

emmyloo was officially the ten thousandth view of my blog.

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