L'aura del Campo

Plain cover jacket

Plain cover jacket

Let me write un-noticed
as a shaft of winter wheat
or a cornstalk cut for silage
in the Central Kansas heat.

Let words now sit on pages
unadorned by quotes of praise
from those who do not know me,
their ignorance displayed.

Here let me die forever
forgotten by the few.
For here I'll live forever
in my letters left for you.

[163.604]

Please comment on this one. It's short, but I'm having problems distancing myself from it because it evokes emotions. Unfortunately, it won't evoke the same in others, but still ...
I made it a separate item too: "Plain cover jacket"  along with some other recent poems posted in my blog: "In search of Iris" , "Crow feathers" , "Like water for chocolate," , "Love-lies-bleeding" , and "Spear" .

I wanted to write lyrics about the Montana mountain moose poops and send it to Celia. She's singing in Missoula tonight. Unfortunately, my muse was on vacation elsewhere. Ah, 'twould've b'n fun ... she could've dedicated it to David a.k.a. partyof5dj

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L'aura del campo

DEATH of WINTER: 16 'Ala (17 March) 54º and nice.

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

Not celebrating the Irish, nope.

My foremother, Julie McCarthy, came from Ireland. Unfortunately I wasn't Irish enough for the neighborhood I grew up in (I wasn't German enough either). So, no, I don't celebrate Saint Patrick's Day. I bristle every time someone wants me to be Irish for the day. It triggers the trauma of childhood. I want to ask why ... if I'm not good enough for you on the other 364 days of the year ... would I want to be associating with you for one day?

Now do I like Celtic music? Of course. Do I find the culture interesting? Sure. Do I want to be embroiled in the controversies surrounding the U.S. parades or the Troubles in Northern Ireland? Hell no.

So ... if our are Irish, can you be my friend? Yes, most definitely. But I expect friendship to last 365 days a year.

[Edit on March 18th] Spoke to my mom. She made corned beef and cabbage with red potatoes at my sister's yesterday. She remembered to drain off all the fat and said that it was the best she ever made. She ate a bit of cabbage, which she loves but isn't supposed to eat due to her medications.

When she was little, they had an Irish supper, put "When Irish Eyes are Smiling" and "Danny Boy" on the Victrola. At school she would wear green. Which was odd she said (her grandmother's family was ORANGE ).

So, please understand. I was traumatized by the little hellians I grew up with. Unfortunately, that has continued as an adult. I was careful last night to avoid all the drunken foolishness. I was even wearing green (no orange in my wardrobe at the moment).

Saint Joseph's Day

is celebrated on March 19th. If you know any Sicilians, you must ask them if they are observing the day. Many families and businesses put out a Saint Joseph's Day table with a spread of incredible cookies and goodies. If you get invited to one, go (it would be an insult not to)! Enjoy!

Naw Ruz

is March 21st. An old Zoroastrian day (naw ruz = new day), it is observed throughout Iran and is a Holy Day among the Baha'is marking the new year, 164. If you know Baha'is there will be a celebration, possibly on the evening of the 20th, more likely on the 21st. The way it is celebrated varies from community to community, all over the world.

Me, my friends and my family

We should always remember the quiet peaceful moments. The drama attracts all the attention in my life, and I assume yours too. This moment while I type is nice.

Saw Chris B. Wish I could help him through his d.t.s but each of us must suffer until we can change our habits. All of us are subject to being human. No further word on Chris F., who was beaten up, other than he is alive.

Had a nice session with Susan, figuring out how I handle the traumas when triggered. I also explained that my hyper-sensitivity may also explain my vertigo. I swear, I KNOW when I'm approaching an edge (may be due to change of pressure? wind?)

For those who asked about rosemary-potato rolls. I'm sure they are made with potato flour. I would hazard a guess that it was the rosemary that kept me awake. It's a very strong spice.

Went to see the parade. It lasted over an hour. Took some photos of the classic corvettes that were lined up. Said hello to dogs, a special hello to the yellow lab, Norm.

Had corned beef and cabbage for lunch. Saw Nesta. He always puts a smile on my face.

A prayer for healing

Thy name is my healing, O my God, and remembrance of Thee is my remedy. Nearness to Thee is my hope, and love for Thee is my companion. Thy mercy to me is my healing and my succor in both this world and the world to come. Thou, verily, art the All-Bountiful, the All-Knowing, the All-Wise.

— Bahá’u’lláh

The link: http://reference.bahai.org/en/t/c/BP/bp-76.html

WATT'S GNU!

Some concern for those who make copies on copy machines and think that others can't read what they've copied ... years later: http://tech.yahoo.com/blogs/null/22352

When I inspected restaurants, school cafeterias were a priority, but this is an article stating that in the U.S., some don't even receive a yearly inspection. In my humble experience, I must say that schools I checked on (some in the poorest parts of town) were immaculate and well run. The staff took great pride in what they did. Just like AL does in Sweden.

The link: http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20070316/ap_on_he_me/school_food_safety

This link: http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20070316/ap_on_re_us/hinckley_buzzards has a beautiful photo of the magnificent bird (6 foot wing span) that visits Hinckley, Ohio every Spring. They even have a festival for the buzzard.

IMAGES and RAMBLINGS

Red flowers of the maples; pink promise of the magnolias by Twente Hall; a young woman rummaging for her ringing cell-phone, in vain.

Blue delicate flowers in the lawn; purple hyacinth; anemone in bud; the nodding pale green pink helleborus (lenten rose) in bloom.

Stuffed grape leaves: the taste and smell of minted rice, the olive oil oozing green, burning through the plastic plate.

The taste of a luscious red pear.

"Rearranging the chairs on the deck", a Titanic metaphor from Sheryl Lynn re mental health reform.

At Aimee's: the rear door open to the cooling breeze; brown crumbled leaves, blown in by the wind.

Today: pink flowering almond; rhubarb unwrinkling its leaves; the crush of carmint.

The weather hasn't been as warm, but the sunshine and lack of wind on Friday was wonderful. When it warms up this coming week there could be storms. Today it's 54 and partially sunny here, but snowing 4 hours to the east in Saint Louis and cold at my mom's: 28º .

READING

Sky by Roderick Townley. Poems of B.H. Fairchild: "The Last Day", "The Managers", "Kansas". "Local Knowledge" haunts. "There is constant movement in my head" is a sestina.

BLOGVILLE

Some folks have left WDC or disappeared or cut back severely on blogging due to personal circumstances. I feel a loss. We become community and yes ... it does matter ... and not just to me.

Writers need support; everyone here understands that. Ask for support, if there is an issue you are facing at the moment.

To be read, one must read. I'm trying! Remind me if has been some time since last I visited you. An aging brain thanks you for the reminder. Just re-remind me again tomorrow.

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 Kåre Enga
~ until everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow!
And I let the fish go. ~ Elizabeth Bishop, The Fish