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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/item_id/982524-Laura-del-Campo/day/4-30-2017
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Rated: 13+ · Book · Personal · #982524
Online journal capturing the moment and the memory of moments. A meadow meditation.
*Smile*          *Bigsmile*          *Wink*

L'aura del campo

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


Higgins Street Bridge, April 25th 2009, Missoula, Montana


L'aura del campo. A breeze in the meadow. So it began the last day of Spring, 2005; on the 16th day of the month of Light of the year 162. This is a supplement to my daily journal written to a friend, my muse; notes I do not share. Here I will share what the breeze has whispered to me.

PLEASE LEAVE COMMENTS! I L*Flower2*V*Flower2* COMMENTS!

On a practical note, in answer to your questions:

Gifts from NOVAcatmando Author Icon kiyasama alfred booth, wanbli ska Author Icon ransomme Iowegian Skye Author Icon

Merit Badge in Reviewing [Click For More Info] For your support and suggestions on my haiku "Lone Poinsettia" which took second place in the contest and will be published. Thanks for helping make it a winning poem! Merit Badge in Nano Winner [Click For More Info] CONGRATULATIONS on your achievement! *^*Bigsmile*^* Merit Badge in Reviewing [Click For More Info] For help finding a title for my first chapbook. We're not there yet, but your ideas are always interesting.
Merit Badge in Funny [Click For More Info] Merit Badge in Friendship [Click For More Info] Thanks for being my friend. Hugz! grannym Merit Badge in Appreciation [Click For More Info] For brightening my day with your delightful offerings ~ Thank you so much! *^*Heart*^*


IN MEMORIUM

VerySara Author Icon

passed away November 12, 2005

Please visit her port to read her poems and her writings.
More suggested links:

Along Route 56 in Southwest Kansas, July 2004.
These pictures rotate.



 Kåre *Leaf5* Enga
~ until everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow! And I let the fish go.
~ Elizabeth Bishop,
The Fish
April 30, 2017 at 5:08pm
April 30, 2017 at 5:08pm
#910172
Life through other's eyes

His life revolved around books,
walls of insulation from the world,
telescopes to peer at it from afar.

A window let in light to read,
in winter cardinals came to the feeder,
in summer it opened to let in a breeze.

Boyhood tales of knights and dragons
morphed into mysteries solved by youth his age,
but so unlike him they seemed quite alive.

Then came comic books, magazines and mangas,
the serious tômes of Albert Camus,
the heavier ones of Dostroyevsky.

He had kept them all, shelves groaning,
his bed hidden behind a closet door,
falling asleep each night with favorite poems.

He would spend a century of reading, if he could,
each day struggling with eternal truth and lies,
never leaving, seeing life through other's eyes.

© Kåre Enga (29.avril.2017) [174.61]

Written while listening to Sayantani Dasgupta read an essay at Shakespeare & Co.
April 30, 2017 at 4:58pm
April 30, 2017 at 4:58pm
#910171
Trash and trash talk

Behind the door: trash talk and trash,
cigarette smoke wafting through thick air,
ash-choke of Idaho, weak grey sun.
It's August in the alley and Paul Simon sings
...die she must. And we wish she would
so we could bury her and clear the air.
In September ...we'd remember,... maybe,
but October's frosty brews would help us forget.
But today, today she's singing out of tune:
Give the blues, give me a Pabst.
I'll put blue ribbons in your hair and dance.
Behind the bar: trash talk and trash,
ribbons of smoke, weaving a trance.

© Kåre Enga (28.avril.2017) [174.58]

Written at Fact and Fiction, inspired by Mark Gibbons, thinking of the back alleys behind Missoula's bars.
80.856
April 30, 2017 at 4:05pm
April 30, 2017 at 4:05pm
#910168
In Oz... In Aus...

Where we were going we had no clue,
we chose new paths; other ways were taxing.
We measured each step expecting a blast.
A party some would not survive.

But those who did had bigger pieces of pie...
of nothingness; it had all gone to Hell.
First it was their fault. Then it was ours.
We were left behind, blaming each other.

When we set out we had no clue,
we followed one who never ceased to fool us;
now we were few and there was no promised peace
as he hid behind the curtain.

© Kåre Enga (28.avril.2017) [174.63]

Aus = Australia, pronounced the same as Oz.


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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/item_id/982524-Laura-del-Campo/day/4-30-2017