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Online journal capturing the moment and the memory of moments. A meadow meditation. |
When I was your age I was the garland twirling 'round and 'round, decorating the cut pine tree. Now, I'm dizzy, dazed, eyes glazed, and you are the garland, face ablaze, and I am the old pine tree. © Kåre Enga 2007 [164.202a] 2007-08-23 Tired ... hot ... waiting for the break that is promised tomorrow. You-all will just have to go to my other blogs ... for the rest of the story: Here at WDC: "Hoarfrosts from Hell" ![]() Blogspot: http://engapoet.blogspot.com/ I've been copying and pasting old blog entries into another file and then deleting entry-by-entry. I'm just maxed out. Last entry brought me to 2,048.00 k on the dot (THE ULTIMATE MAX). But, this is a humorous (?) part of an entry from January 12, 2006: Recent thoughts and ideas: Lemming/Lemley. My friend Diane mentioned lemmings and although I love my friend to pieces (sometimes small chewy ones) the concept of people going off cliffs just because everyone else is headed that direction is a strong image. I would hate to lose my friend that way or in any other way. Bleeding like the Virgin Mary. My sister Diane had a hammock come down on her as a child. A small piece of metal punched a hole in her head. Luckily our neighbor Deanna Lentz was visiting and they took her immediately to the doctor. Any head injury is bloody. She was squirting everywhere, 'bleeding like a statue of the Virgin Mary'. Binky II and Brian-the-blowfish. Jeanne brought her fish Binky in last night. Brian was making cracks about me being a blowfish. I write. I know how to get back! (Jeanne New Moon is now deceased.) Underneath this rock: four catclaws unsheathed and ready. In reference to a project of selling painted rocks for gardens. Someone suggested poems. I thought witty sayings. And who hasn't buried a pet at some time or another! Another politically incorrect witicism: 'This stone is lovingly placed to keep Rover from wandering off'. Oddities: Ring Ring - Robert - run run Fan of fundys ~ evo biologist It's not the drinking; it's the drunkenness. It's not the smoking pot; it's the smoking crack. It's not 'I've been in jail'; it's 'I'm going back'. The patch of sunlight crawled away from where we let sleeping dogs lie. It's okay to write 100 sonnets. It's okay to NOT write 101. Pigeons on a line, being picked off one by one. Miners alive for 10 hours (whose going to write that song?) And everyday's the last day. Each moment is a kiss that I let go. Hmmm ... I need to peruse the old entries for ideas! 23,158 |